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It’s well-known that a guardian creature’s settled form reflects their human’s personality. But romantics and gossiping aunties will tell you that the environment a guardian creature is suited for reflects a person’s true home. Shang Qinghua has always kind of liked the notion, being something of a romantic himself. It’s true that guardian creatures meant for life in the water tended to belong to fishermen and great explorers. Guardian creatures suited to life in the mountains generally belonged to mountain climbers and those who lived secluded lives on a mountain peak. There were some exceptions, of course, like Shen Qingqiu’s caracal, who certainly stands out in the bamboo gardens of Qing Jing Peak. But as a general rule, the principle that a guardian creature’s form predicted their human’s place in the world seemed to hold true most of the time, which is good enough for Shang Qinghua.

In the world he had come from, there were no guardian creatures at all. Thankfully, he hadn’t inherited the guardian creature of the previous Shang Qinghua, but his own Zhiyi, a reflection of his soul. So Shang Qinghua was pretty excited to see what his guardian creature might settle as. She experimented a lot when they were growing up. Zhiyi trying on forms and Shang Qinghua rating them became a little game between them.

Except, one day, otherwise ordinary, Zhiyi became an arctic hare and never took another form again. This came as a big surprise. Truly, what kind of mismatch was this? Shang Qinghua was not meant for a life of bitterly cold wind and sleet! He was a man meant to laze about and eat noodles and daydream about his latest novel! 

However, a guardian creature couldn’t choose their form, so of course Shang Qinghua couldn’t blame Zhiyi. It was a lovely form, much better than the beetle of the original Shang Qinghua. Zhiyi’s white fur was pleasant and soft to touch and her big ears meant that she could warn him in advance if something unpleasant was approaching. It was a form that wasn’t meant for combat, but what else could be expected of the guardian creature of Shang Qinghua, lowly An Ding Peak disciple? He was the type of coward who ran from battle with absolutely no regrets! 

Shang Qinghua hadn’t really considered the significance of his guardian creature’s form being suited for bitterly cold conditions until he was face-to-face with a young, but still incredibly handsome, Mobei-Jun. Was he truly fated to become the traitor of the original novel and be killed by Mobei-Jun? If that was the case, then Zhiyi’s form made sense. He was born to die in the North, so of course his guardian creature would try to adapt herself to those conditions, in a desperate attempt to keep him alive! All Shang Qinghua could think to do to save his hide for now was to cling desperately to Mobei-Jun’s thighs.

Shang Qinghua fell to one knee and declared, “My king, please let me follow you for the rest of my life!” 

Zhiyi, in turn, made herself as small as possible before Mobei-Jun’s guardian creature, a snow leopard called Wenying. “Great queen of the northern realms,” Zhiyi murmurs, “I was meant to serve you.” 

Mobei-Jun only tries to kick Shang Qinghua off, but Wenying’s blue eyes sharpen with interest. She strides forward, staring intently at Zhiyi. No doubt she’s thinking what an excellent snack Zhiyi would make. But Shang Qinghua can’t release Mobei-Jun’s thighs for anything, so can only watch with horror as his little hare trembles before the powerful snow leopard. 

“Curious,” Wenying rumbles, her eyes still fixed upon Zhiyi. 

Mobei-Jun pauses in his efforts to kick Shang Qinghua off long enough to kill the other An Ding Peak disciples, so Shang Qinghua hurries to add, “My king, please accept me. I’m very useful!” 

“Oh? What use are you?” says Mobei-Jun, shifting to look at Shang Qinghua. 

Wenying opens her mouth wide in a yawn, displaying her sharp fangs. Shang Qinghua gulps. 

“I can serve tea, carry water, wash clothes, fold blankets… no.” Shang Qinghua can’t just be an ordinary servant! Mobei-Jun must have thousands of those! He’s got to make himself stand out, to make himself indispensable, and there’s really only one way he can do so. He might be making the biggest mistake of his life, but maybe this is just his fate. “You see, my king, I can serve you as an undercover agent in Cang Qiong Mountain Sect! I can pass on intelligence and help the Demon Race accomplish the magnificent feat of conquering the Human Realm.”

Mobei-Jun laughed, his face full of cruel amusement. “An outer disciple, and an An Ding Peak outer disciple at that. With you as a spy, how long would it take to accomplish?”

“Don’t discriminate by peak, that isn’t very nice!” Shang Qinghua replies, pouting. Sure, An Ding Peak wasn’t so impressive on paper, but they were the reason the sect didn’t collapse! 

“My queen?” says Zhiyi, sounding alarmed. Shang Qinghua whips his head towards his guardian creature, expecting to see his sweet Zhiyi in Wenying’s jaws, only to find her frantically trying to serve as a brace for Wenying, who is sagging to one side. The next moment, Mobei-Jun collapses. 

“Get out of there!” Shang Qinghua cries to his guardian creature, “If she falls on you, you’ll be stuck!” 

Zhiyi grunts with effort, but remains firmly in place. “How could I let her collapse?! She’s the queen of the northern desert! She doesn’t fall for anything!” 

‘Zhiyi!’ Shang Qinghua thinks desperately, ‘This is not the time to be getting sentimental about our novel! This is real life!’

“Foolish,” Wenying murmurs, weakly, “Move, or you will not be able to serve me.”

“Hurry, fetch her the cart!” Zhiyi says, and Shang Qinghua springs to obey, shoving the supplies off the cart with impunity. If Wenying fully collapses, there’s no way Zhiyi could lift her, and Shang Qinghua really would have a death wish if he laid a hand on her.

Somehow, Wenying manages to make it onto the cart. The snow leopard closes her eyes, and then, both the king of the north and his guardian creature are passed out. Shang Qinghua is amazed that Wenying managed to hold out that long. Normally, when a human or demon is weak enough to pass out, their guardian creature can’t last more than a few seconds before being tugged under too. But then, this was Mobei-Jun’s guardian creature, after all. 

“Oh fuck, Mobei-Jun!”

Shang Qinghua scurries over to Mobei-Jun, who is still lying passed out on the ground. He must be terribly injured to have collapsed like that. Sure enough, Shang Qinghua discovers Huan Hua Palace’s Ling Hua dart. Meaning that Mobei-Jun is not only badly hurt, he’s also under anesthesia from the dart too. It’s….a perfect opportunity? This is the most vulnerable it’s possible for Mobei-Jun to be. If Shang Qinghua wants to escape his fate, truly, this moment is a gift from the heavens! 

Shang Qinghua looked around for a moment, before spying a rock half the size of his head and lugging it over to where Mobei-Jun passed out. 

“What are you doing?” Zhiyi calls. She had jumped up onto the cart and started nosing through Wenying’s fur, no doubt looking for any injuries to match Mobei-Jun’s wound. Through their bond, she sent him feelings of confusion and concern. He sent back elation and excitement. 

“This is it! This is how we escape the fate of Shang Qinghua!” He lifts the rock, holding it above Mobei-Jun’s head. “The System hasn’t given me any warnings at all!” 

“Wait!” Zhiyi gasps, “Are you really going to kill him? But he’s--it’s Mobei-Jun!”

“Would you rather he kills me?” Shang Qinghua asks, hefting the stone a little higher in preparation. 

“Of course not!” Zhiyi cries. “But-”

Too late, Shang Qinghua is already saying, “My king ah, my king, this is the will of Heaven, don’t blame me.” He giggles a little to himself with sheer relief and brings the rock down. Except, at the last moment, he just can’t bring himself to do it. 

He studies Mobei-Jun’s long dark eyelashes, his perfect straight nose, the curve of his lips, the way his brow has unfurrowed in sleep. He’s really too handsome! Truly, Mobei-Jun is perhaps the closest thing in this world to what Shang Qinghua had originally written. For many other things, he’d left gaps and hadn’t described things too much, so the System had to fill these things in. But Mobei-Jun had always been Shang Qinghua’s favorite creation, so he had the clearest picture in his mind of what this ideal man, this strong and handsome king, would look like. It was truly incredible to see him in the flesh! 

Shang Qinghua whimpered. Why was fate so cruel? He really didn’t want to have to kill his favorite character! Well, maybe if he just doesn’t look at Mobei-Jun’s face, he’ll manage to do it. Seeing that glorious face, of course he had hesitated! But if he looks away, it will be easier, right?

Zhiyi murmurs, “Is this really the only way? I don’t want us to kill anyone! Especially not him!”

“There’s not going to be another chance like this!” Shang Qinghua says, miserably, “What else can we do?” 

But in the end, even with his head turned away, and his eyes squeezed shut, Shang Qinghua couldn’t manage it. 

“Agh, I can’t do it!” Shang Qinghua cries, throwing away the rock and flopping onto Mobei-Jun’s chest. “Zhiyi, he’s just too handsome!” 

“I know what you mean,” says Zhiyi, staring at Mobei-Jun’s other half. Wenying was a reflection of all of Mobei-Jun’s attractive qualities. She was powerful, effortlessly beautiful, a born queen! And like this, with all the fury and pride drained out of her by sleep, she was terribly cute! 

“Damn it!” Shang Qinghua cries, “Okay, change of plans! We’re taking them to an inn.” He starts to haul Mobei-Jun over to the cart, which is easier said than done. Despite his youth, Mobei-Jun was already full of firm muscle, and he was a complete dead weight in Shang Qinghua’s arms. Finally, he manages it, carefully avoiding touching Wenying as he puts Mobei-Jun face down on the cart. 

Sweating and panting from the effort, Shang Qinghua gives himself a moment to breathe. Has he made a mistake? No, he can’t regret it now. He can only move forward and hope he didn’t just waste a golden opportunity to save his hide.  

“It’ll be alright,” says Zhiyi, comfortingly, hopping over to his side. Shang Qinghua scoops her up so he can cuddle her in his arms. “What better way to prove our devotion? He surely won’t kill us after this!” 

Buoyed by the thought, Shang Qinghua is able to work up enough energy to push the cart towards the city. 

---

Shang Qinghua came to regret not killing Mobei-Jun almost immediately. Some days, Mobei-Jun really got on his nerves. He was written to be Shang Qinghua’s perfect man, so why does Shang Qinghua fantasize about drop kicking him off An Ding Peak within days of meeting him? 

He’s just so...so...obnoxious! He’s imperious and rude and spoiled. He shows up in Shang Qinghua’s room unannounced and makes Shang Qinghua sleep on the floor so he can have the bed. He’s a slavedriver, completely unsympathetic to the fact that Shang Qinghua can’t just drop his duties to An Ding Peak if the goal is for him to rise through the ranks to be a better spy. 

When Shang Qinghua takes up residence at the Northern Palace and Mobei-Jun starts giving him more and more duties, Shang Qinghua is naive enough to think that the beatings will stop entirely. They do slow, but Mobei-Jun’s temper is fiery on the best of days, so Shang Qinghua is a human punching bag way more often than he’d like.

Perhaps the most frustrating part is that Shang Qinghua’s Zhiyi, the other half of his soul, can’t say a bad word about Wenying. While Mobei-Jun is busy beating up Shang Qinghua, Wenying will just look at Zhiyi, tail flicking lazily. She’s never once tried to bite her or claw her. Wenying could never be described as talkative. But unlike Mobei-Jun, who takes great pleasure in ridiculing Cang Qiong Mountain and Shang Qinghua, Wenying rarely reprimands Zhiyi. Her only complaints seem to revolve around recklessness. 

At An Ding Peak, these concerns mostly boiled down to overwork, never mind that Mobei-Jun is directly responsible for that. But now that they’re living full time in the Northern Palace, Shang Qinghua and Zhiyi are under much more direct threats. 

Shang Qinghua is always present at council meetings as a record keeper. He had taken up the position after an over-eager young demon from one of the Northern Tundra clans managed to completely wipe out an entire clan loyal to Mobei-Jun, rather than just the rebel faction he had been assigned to deal with. Mobei-Jun had been furious, particularly since the Tundra demon insisted he had been following Mobei-Jun’s instructions. Thus, Shang Qinghua, in the interest of Mobei-Jun not having to kill off all of his underlings for being incompetent, suggested that he keep records at all meetings of the council, to ensure there were no similar misunderstandings. 

Occasionally, Shang Qinghua’s knowledge of this world comes in handy and he can whisper ideas to Mobei-Jun. Mobei-Jun almost never accepts Shang Qinghua’s suggestions, perhaps to spite him, but Shang Qinghua thinks the success of the ideas he voiced that did get put into practice will eventually be enough to earn him more favor. However, not everyone likes the fact that he attends these meetings.

Shang Qinghua and the council members arrive for today’s meeting on the hour, as instructed, but Mobei-Jun is nowhere to be found. Of course, he was the king, so he was on time and everyone else was just early. Shang Qinghua rolls his eyes. Honestly, if Mobei-Jun was so particular about punctuality, he should really practice what he preaches! In this lowly servant’s opinion, of course.

In the interim, the arctic fox guardian creature of Mobei-Jun’s third cousin twice removed  thought it would be funny to chase and nip at Zhiyi while they waited, as entertainment. 

“Bet I can catch this little morsel in time to present it as a snack to our Queen,” the arctic fox chortles and pounces. 

Zhiyi is smart enough to have evaded; why do D-list villain types like this always monologue about what they’re going to do before they do it? Although Zhiyi doesn’t have much in the way of defenses, she’s fast. She can run twice as fast as Shang Qinghua, which admittedly isn’t saying much. She ducks and weaves around the tables and chairs, managing to stay just out of reach of the predator tailing her. Shang Qinghua flinches everytime he hears the snap of the arctic fox’s teeth, sometimes just inches from Zhiyi’s back legs.

None of the other demons’ guardian creatures intervene. Why would they? Shang Qinghua was only a servant, and a human at that. Earning his favor wouldn’t help them any, so they couldn’t care less what happened to him. 

Shang Qinghua glares as mightily as he can manage at Mobei-Jun’s stupid distant cousin, but the demon only smirks. Shang Qinghua has an iron grip on the table to keep from doing something incredibly stupid like yelling or fighting this asshole. He knows better than to evoke Mobei-Jun; the demons assembled here are in Mobei-Jun’s inner circle, so how could Shang Qinghua hope to argue Mobei-Jun would be upset with them if they harmed him? Yet, Mobei-Jun is the only defense he has! My king, please come defend your pitiful servant! 

When Mobei-Jun sweeps into the council chamber, it takes everything in Shang Qinghua not to fall to his knees and beg his king for his protection immediately. Thankfully, it seems Mobei-Jun is in one of his famous tempers. He always likes things just so, and council meetings were no exception; no doubt the frivolity of his cousin’s guardian creature is a major irritation to him. 

As soon as Mobei-Jun catches sight of the arctic fox guardian creature nipping at Zhiyi’s heels, the temperature drops sharply and his default imperious expression turns thunderous. Wenying growls, stalking forward with teeth bared. The arctic fox freezes, ears pressed back against her skull. 

Zhiyi also skids to a stop, ducking her head respectfully to Wenying. “My queen,” she murmurs. 

“You dare!” Wenying snarls, tail lashing, staring down the arctic fox.

The arctic fox cowers and scrapes before Wenying. Not that it does any good. The arctic fox explodes into a shower of dust as Mobei-Jun skewers his wayward relation without even a shred of remorse. 

There’s a drop of blood running down one of Mobei-Jun’s defined cheekbones. Shang Qinghua, shamefully, imagines licking it off, which is objectively, the weirdest possible intrusive thought he could have had. What the hell?

Mobei-Jun takes his usual seat at the head of the meeting table and the rest of the council members follow suit cautiously, obviously on edge after witnessing Mobei-Jun summarily execute one of their ranks. Ordinarily, Wenying would follow Mobei-Jun like a shadow and sit in her designated space on his right. Instead, Wenying stalks over to Zhiyi, and she still looks furious. 

“Come,” Wenying says, her voice a deep rumble, and then abruptly picks Zhiyi up by the scruff of her neck and carries her off like a disobedient kitten. Shang Qinghua can only gape as Wenying disappears under the table with Zhiyi in her jaws. The other guardian creatures watch with undisguised interest, but none of them dare join them under the table. Shang Qinghua despairs and wonders if his guardian creature is about to be eaten alive. 

But after the meeting, Zhiyi emerges looking bright eyed and bushy tailed. Shang Qinghua burns with curiosity, but he manages to wait until they’re safely in Shang Qinghua’s room with the door closed to ask her what happened. He scoops Zhiyi up and holds her close to his chest, relishing the feeling of her soft fur and her comfortingly quick heartbeat. 

“What happened? What did Wenying say to you back there?” 

“‘My queen was worried about me!” Zhiyi says, practically preening. “She checked me all over for bites, even though I told her I was fine!”

Shang Qinghua rolls his eyes. “She just checked because if you’re badly hurt then I’m out of commission, and if I’m not well enough to serve my king, he has no one to bully.” 

“That’s not true!” Zhiyi says, “You didn’t see her! Her tail was all poofed up and her eyes were so big. I’ve never seen her so freaked out.” She snuggles further into Shang Qinghua’s arms. “She was mad at Mobei-Jun for killing that demon so quickly. She said she would have bitten that fox’s muzzle off. It was kind of hot, in a morbid sort of way.”

“Not you too!” Shang Qinghua groans. Ugh, so both sides of his soul are into some weird kinks, apparently. “Anyway, are you really okay? Or were you just saying that?”

“I’m really okay. That jerk didn’t manage to catch me.” She shivers. “But I could feel this rush of air when she snapped her teeth right behind my leg. Ugh! I think she was just trying to spook me. I really wish I had some claws or horns or something.”

“No you don’t,” says Shang Qinghua, laughing, “Then you’d actually have to fight!”

Zhiyi giggles. “Yeah. That’s true. Good thing Mobei-Jun and my queen showed up when they did.” 

“Yeah,” says Shang Qinghua, “Good thing.”

---

“Shang Qinghua.” 

Shang Qinghua looks up from his work to see Mobei-Jun lingering in the doorway. 

Zhiyi, who had been curled up next to Shang Qinghua’s pile of paperwork, bounds off the desk so she can incline her head towards Wenying. “My queen,” she murmurs, respectfully. 

Shang Qinghua says, “Oh, my king! I’m just putting the finishing touches on the treaty. Of course it’s more favorable to you, my king, but I’m sure they’ll agree to it if-”

“Very well. Finish it and have it delivered,” says Mobei-Jun dismissively. He’s been doing this a lot lately, not just delegating to Shang Qinghua, but actively letting Shang Qinghua make important decisions with an appalling lack of oversight. It makes Shang Qinghua feel warm to know his king trusts him, but he really hopes he’s not like this with other servants, or his king is surely getting robbed blind! 

“Yes, my king,” Shang Qinghua replies, bowing his head. “What can this servant do for you?” 

“Do humans choose the forms of their guardian creatures?” Mobei-Jun asks, demandingly. 

“Um!” blurts Shang Qinghua, surprised, “No, my king! It works the same way it works for demons. A guardian creature can change between forms at will when their human is a child, but when the human grows up, the guardian creature takes on its permanent form and can’t change again. The settled form isn’t one chosen by either the human or the guardian creature, but by the heavens.”

Shang Qinghua, feeling a little nostalgic and wholly incapable of stopping himself from rambling unless forced, adds, “When we were kids, Zhiyi tried out all kinds of different forms! She liked to be a hamster a lot. Lots of rodents, actually. And she liked to be a bird sometimes so she could fly. But she was never a hare until we settled that way. It came as a complete surprise!” 

“Hmm,” says Mobei-Jun, sounding pleased.

Wenying prowls up to Zhiyi and brushes close enough that her legs and tail brush against Zhiyi’s side. She circles Zhiyi completely, tail flicking, then returns to Mobei-Jun’s side. 

“W-Was that all, my king?” Shang Qinghua blurts. Zhiyi is completely frozen, lost for words. It’s usually a sign of affection for guardian creatures to casually touch each other. For the famously cold and distant Wenying to initiate a touch, completely out of the blue, is confounding.

There’s a pause. “I expect you to attend the hunt this afternoon. Do not be late,” Mobei-Jun says, and sweeps away.

As soon as Mobei-Jun and Wenying are gone, Shang Qinghua turns to look at his guardian creature. “That was weird, right?” 

“Really weird,” says Zhiyi, nodding her head, enthusiastically. “My queen touched me! Like, purposefully! And not because we were in danger or something! Are we asleep? Did that really just happen?” 

Shang Qinghua pinches himself just in case. “No, we’re awake. It’s so strange. Sure, my king has been trusting us more of late, and I can’t really remember the last time he hit me and it actually hurt a lot, but that was-” He doesn’t know how to finish. Unusual? Remarkable? Fantastic? Bizarre? 

Zhiyi leaps back up to the desk, careful to avoid landing on the treaty Shang Qinghua has been drafting. She’s gotten ink on her white fur too many times to count at this point. “Say, Qinghua,” says Zhiyi, sounding thoughtful, “Have you noticed anyone at the northern palace who doesn’t have a guardian creature that’s adapted for snow?”

Shang Qinghua thinks for a moment. There are a lot of wolves and arctic foxes that belong to the more powerful demon lords. Linguang-Jun’s daemon, Weimou, is a snowy owl, whose piercing yellow eyes and sharp talons give Zhiyi the creeps. Shang Qinghua doesn’t know the entire household staff yet, mostly because there are always new ones to replace traitors, spies, and anyone who displeases Mobei-Jun in any way, but of the ones he does know, he can’t think of a single guardian creature that wouldn’t thrive in snowy conditions. Ermines, caribou, ptarmigans...Even the servants who have dog guardian creatures have malamutes. Huh. 

“No, I guess not. Did we write it like that?” Shang Qinghua wonders, “I don’t remember.” 

“I don’t think so,” Zhiyi replies, “We obviously specified guardian creatures for our king and his uncle, but there’s no way we would have written about guardian creatures for the servants at the Northern Palace. Heck, I don’t think we even bothered to figure out what type of guardian creature some of the more minor peak lords had.” 

“Well, it makes sense anyway. If you’re a northern ice demon, of course your guardian creature is going to reflect that.” He giggles. “Oh man, I just pictured a poor ice demon with a camel guardian creature. Can you imagine?” 

Zhiyi laughs. “Oh no, that would be so sad! He’d probably have to flee the north in shame!” 

Shang Qinghua laughs for a while, imagining that, but once his mirth has faded, his mind returns to the problem at hand. “But why was my king so interested in your form all of a sudden?”

Zhiyi’s nose twitches. “Well, actually, my queen has asked me about it before.” 

“She has?” Shang Qinghua asks, surprised. 

Zhiyi nods, hopping over to sit next to Shang Qinghua’s hand. He absently begins to pet her as she says, “She asked me why I thought I had taken this form, and I told her I didn’t know. I mentioned that you tend to get cold easily, so maybe that was why, and she seemed to think it was funny.” 

“Funny?” Shang Qinghua replies, boggling at his guardian creature. “Zhiyi, this is Wenying we’re talking about here. She’s meant to be cold and aloof! An imperious queen!” 

Zhiyi sniffs. “Well, she didn’t laugh or anything. But she got that look, you know, when she thinks something is amusing, and her whiskers twitch?” 

“No? I have no idea what you’re talking about! When did you even have this conversation? Where was I?”

“It was when Mobei-Jun showed up at An Ding Peak after our ascension ceremony.” 

“What? That was ages ago!”

“I didn’t think it was important!” Zhiyi says, indignantly, “And you were too busy freaking out about Mobei-Jun being there to notice.”

“So. So, okay, Wenying was curious about your form back then. But why would my king ask about it now?”

“No clue,” Zhiyi says, settling into a little ball of white fur. “Maybe my queen brought up our conversation from back then for some reason, and Mobei-Jun was curious.”

“Maybe,” Shang Qinghua replies, doubtfully. Then he shrugs, and returns to make the finishing touches to the treaty.

---

Mobei-Jun doesn’t have a main character halo. Shang Qinghua is acutely aware of this; yet as Luo Binghe’s right hand, Mobei-Jun has an important canonical role, which has to count for something. Plus, Mobei-Jun is strong, second only to the OP protagonist. So Shang Qinghua worries, when Mobei-Jun is in dangerous situations, but he’s always comforted himself with the logic that Mobei-Jun still has a role to play, that he’s strong and virtually undefeatable. Except, then he falls off Maigu Ridge, and Shang Qinghua panics. 

When he’d written Mobei-Jun originally, he’d already given him his OP teleportation abilities, justified by their usefulness in serving Luo Binghe. So, to give him the ability of swordflight too seemed like too much. He didn’t want to overshadow the protagonist, after all! Shang Qinghua could kick himself. 

Wenying roars, a mixture of pain and rage, when Mobei-Jun is launched by Xuan Su’s overwhelming spiritual energy. It’s the worst sound in the world. Wenying takes off running towards the edge where Mobei-Jun had fallen, but it’s not like she can fly either. Zhiyi, who had been tucked carefully inside his robes against Shang Qinghua’s chest, wriggles free. 

“My queen!” She shouts, as frantic as Shang Qinghua has ever heard her, and dashes after Wenying. “Hold on, I’m coming!”

Shang Qinghua snatches up a disregarded sword and begins to follow Zhiyi, but Shen Qingqiu grabs his arm. 

“What are you doing!?” 

Shang Qinghua had to admit; his friend was right to be concerned. Shang Qinghua is a Peak Lord, so his cultivation isn’t awful, but he’s always relied on his strategic mind and his knowledge of PIDW to get him through difficult situations. That and hugging thighs and playing dead. This is wholly unlike him. But that doesn’t matter. 

“Fuck, he can’t fly!” Shang Qinghua cries, and wrenches out of Shen Qingqiu’s grip. He doesn’t think, just takes a running leap off the edge after Mobei-Jun. 

“My king!” Shang Qinghua howls against the rushing wind. His mind is just one phrase on a loop over and over. ‘He can’t die, not him!’ If he loses Mobei-Jun now, what has all of this been for? What is this world, without Mobei-Jun in it? Worthless! This world has taken on a life of its own, spun off into a wild alternate universe. Little remains of the PIDW that netizens loved to hate. In some ways, that’s a very good thing. PIDW was dogshit. He was proud of his ability to churn out words and vindictively pleased by the thousands of outraged forum threads, but he knew the novel he’d produced wasn’t what he’d wanted to write. But Mobei-Jun was the shining gem in the coal of PIDW. 

Mobei-Jun had been written as Shang Qinghua’s perfect man, but he’s more than that. Shang Qinghua finds his entitled smugness irritating. His tendency to say little but assume Shang Qinghua could read his mind was infuriating. But there was so much more to him than the cold, imperious attitude that Shang Qinghua had once thought so dreamy. Mobei-Jun listened to Shang Qinghua’s dumb ideas and actually used some of them! He paid attention to Shang Qinghua’s off-hand comments about things he’d like to have, and casually provided them to him, like it was no big deal. He’d make snide little side comments during council meetings and petitions that would have Shang Qinghua in stitches and Mobei-Jun would look at him in bemusement, as if to say ‘It wasn’t that funny.’

Every second counts now. The farther Mobei-Jun falls, the more distance he puts between him and Wenying. They have a pretty large range from what Shang Qinghua has observed, but it’s not infinite. A guardian creature can only go so far from their human or demon until they reach their limit. When that happens, it will be excruciatingly painful for both sides of the bond and the pain will continue to get worse the more the distance continues to increase until….Well, Shang Qinghua isn’t going to let it get to that point.

Shang Qinghua tilts forward on the sword, rocketing towards the ground at a break-neck pace. As he nears Mobei-Jun, he shouts, “My king! Take my hand!” He stretches out his arm as far as it will go, even as it makes the sword beneath him wobble dangerously with the change in his balance.

Shang Qinghua will never forget Mobei-Jun’s expression at that moment. He looked shocked, which was to be expected. Honestly, Shang Qinghua can’t even believe he’s doing this either. But there’s also wonder in his face, like Shang Qinghua’s outstretched hand is a precious gift he didn’t expect to receive.

Their fingers brush. Once, twice. 

Shang Qinghua strains, and the third time, their fingers clasp and hold. Shang Qinghua cries out as his shoulder wrenches trying to arrest Mobei-Jun’s movement, but somehow he manages to get the sword beneath the two of them and wrap his arms tightly around Mobei-Jun. “Hang on!” he cries, “I’ve got you, my king!” 

He strains, calling on what little spiritual power he has to fight against gravity and bring the sword back up. 

“Are you okay?” Shang Qinghua murmurs, “Does it hurt? I’ll get you back up there as soon as I can.” 

“No need,” says Mobei-Jun, “Don’t exhaust yourself.” 

“What do you mean, no need?” Shang Qinghua demands, still urging the sword upward, “Wenying’s still up there isn’t she?” 

For the first time, Shang Qinghua looks up and registers that Wenying isn’t visible on the edge of the ridge. His heart drops to his throat and he tugs desperately on his bond with Zhiyi, sending feelings of worry and confusion. 

“Over here!” Zhiyi’s voice snaps Shang Qinghua’s head in their direction, still above him, but lower than she should be. Zhiyi and Wenying are perilously positioned on the side of the side ridge, apparently climbing down towards them. Wenying’s entire pelt is fluffed with alarm, but she’s following behind Zhiyi, who's been hopping slowly but steadily down the cliff face. 

There’s no room for Wenying on the sword and Shang Qinghua wouldn’t be able to handle much more weight anyway. He could absolutely carry Zhiyi, but she stubbornly refuses to leave Wenying behind, so Shang Qinghua is forced to land without the guardian creatures and watch, biting his nails nervously, as they make their slow, steady way down the cliff face. 

As soon as the two of them touch down, Shang Qinghua runs over to scoop Zhiyi into his arms, pressing her firmly against his chest. “Are you okay? Why did you come down? You could have fallen!”

“Of course we came down! You were getting further and further away,” Zhiyi shudders all over, and Shang Qinghua realizes with sudden clarity that Mobei-Jun’s bond with Wenying wasn’t the only one in danger of the agony of separating too far. 

Shang Qinghua buries his face in her fur. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t think! I just saw my king fall and--”

“I know,” she whispers, “I know. And I couldn’t let my queen suffer either, so we had to risk climbing down.” 

“Qinghua,” Mobei-Jun calls and Shang Qinghua lifts his head. Mobei-Jun, true to form, looks regal and handsome and not at all like he had a near death experience just now. The only sign of his unease is the way Wenying is pressed against his left side, her fluffy tail wrapped around one of Mobei-Jun’s legs. “We’re leaving.” 

“Leaving?” Shang Qinghua replies, squinting up towards where the battle is no doubt still raging. Not that he has any qualms about fleeing a fight; that would be hypocritical of him. But this was the final boss and Shang Qinghua was kind of curious how this would turn out. And, okay, he was slightly concerned about Cucumber-Bro. 

“Come here,” says Mobei-Jun, gesturing to his right side, so Shang Qinghua goes, Zhiyi still clutched in his arms. Mobei-Jun presses a broad palm against his back, and the next moment, they’ve portaled to the Northern Kingdom. Specifically, to Mobei-Jun’s chambers. Shang Qinghua sways a bit, dizzy, but Mobei-Jun’s palm keeps him upright. 

As soon as Shang Qinghua has his bearings, Mobei-Jun asks, “Are you hurt? Do not lie.” 

Shang Qinghua leans into Mobei-Jun’s touch. Mobei-Jun is being so obliging, so why shouldn’t he milk this for all it’s worth? Nevertheless, Mobei-Jun ordered him not to lie, and he doesn’t intend to do so. “No, my king. I’m alright. I’ve expended a lot of energy, but I’ll just take a short rest and be good as new, don’t worry!”

“Good,” says Mobei-Jun, and sends him a steady stream of his qi, which Shang Qinghua’s parched meridians gobble up greedily. 

“Ah, my king! No need, no need! Please don’t waste your qi!” Shang Qinghua cries, but can’t bring himself to end the transfer. That would require pulling away from Mobei-Jun’s touch. Mobei-Jun, obstinate and headstrong in all things, pretends not to have heard, forcing Shang Qinghua to work up the will to step away. 

He turns to face Mobei-Jun and bows his head. “This humble servant is very thankful for your generosity,” Shang Qinghua blurts, “but my king’s qi is precious and shouldn’t be shared easily. This servant is not worthy of it.”

Mobei-Jun frowns. “My qi is mine to bestow on whomever I see fit. Set Zhiyi down.” Zhiyi bites his thumb, as if to say, ‘Now you’ve done it!’

Shang Qinghua bends and deposits Zhiyi on the floor. Immediately, Wenying leaves Mobei-Jun’s side to scoop Zhiyi up in her mouth, gripping her by the nape of her neck. Zhiyi goes limp, her legs flopping with every step Wenying takes. 

Wenying walks back to Mobei-Jun’s side and sits, tail flicking. Zhiyi seems perfectly content to remain in her jaws. Shang Qinghua has seen them do this enough by now that he doesn’t panic anymore at the sight, but it’s still disconcerting. Zhiyi is helpless like this, completely at Wenying’s mercy. Yet, the feelings Shang Qinghua gets from their bond are ones of contentment. 

“My king?” Shang Qinghua asks, realizing there’s been an awkward pause between them. Shang Qinghua obviously isn’t dismissed, because Wenying hasn’t let go of Zhiyi.

“Qinghua,” Mobei-Jun says, “If matters resolve themselves, and there is a truce between the human and demon realms, then if they accept you, you may return to Cang Qiong Mountain, if you wish.”

Shang Qinghua startles. “What? My king, are you...are you telling me to leave?”

“No!” says Mobei-Jun, so vehemently that Shang Qinghua jumps. Mobei-Jun takes a deep breath. “You misunderstand me,” Mobei-Jun continues, frustration still bleeding into his tone, “You will retain your residence here in the Northern Palace. But you are also a Peak Lord of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. If that Yue Qingyuan--” he snarls his name, clearly not having forgotten who it was who sent him flying earlier, “--has any sense, he’ll ask you to return. I will permit this, so long as you do not neglect your duties here.” 

“Oh!” Shang Qinghua says, pleasantly surprised. “Well, thank you, my king. I’ll be sure to keep up with my duties here regardless.”

Mobei-Jun looks pleased. It’s a subtle thing, but Shang Qinghua is getting good at the art of reading Mobei-Jun, and his lips have definitely turned up at the corners, just slightly! “Qinghua must be tired. Leave any work until tomorrow.” 

Shang Qinghua smiles. “Thank you, my king. But I’m fine now. There are some time sensitive things that I really should--”

Wenying growls, which sounds a little funny, given that it’s muffled by Zhiyi, who is still being held in the snow leopard’s mouth. Wenying sets Zhiyi down, carefully, then adds, as if the growl wasn’t clear enough, “Do not overwork yourself. You will be no use to us if you collapse.”

“We’ll rest, don’t worry, don’t worry,” Zhiyi says, rubbing up against Wenying’s leg. “You too, okay? You went through a lot today, my queen.” 

Wenying dips her head to touch her muzzle between Zhiyi’s ears. There’s a flash of pink--Was that Wenying’s tongue?!--and Zhiyi giggles, “My queen, I’m ticklish there!” 

“Go on,” says Wenying, sounding distinctly fond, “Rest. Call for us if there is any trouble.” 

Shang Qinghua forces himself to look away from the guardian creatures. His stomach is doing this weird swooping thing. Since when had they gotten so close? Did Wenying really just lick Zhiyi? Why was it that Wenying and Zhiyi were so affectionate with each other when Shang Qinghua would probably be beaten to death if he referred to Mobei-Jun as a friend?

Shang Qinghua can’t help but sneak a look at Mobei-Jun, and startles to find him looking back. Mobei-Jun’s blue eyes are intense, the way they get when he’s concentrating hard. Shang Qinghua, the coward that he is, blinks and looks away. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling too warm all of a sudden. Maybe he has a fever? 

“Ah, well, I better get going then, my king. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Mobei-Jun only nods. Shang Qinghua takes that as a dismissal and hightails it out of Mobei-Jun’s chambers, Zhiyi hopping at his heels. 

--

When Shang Qinghua took up the mantle of An Ding Peak Lord again, he didn’t expect it to be so boring. Sure, there was a good amount of logistical stuff to handle initially, but he’s worked through all that now. An Ding Peak is like a well-oiled machine these days. He’s given his head disciple authority to handle just about everything without him, given that he still spends a lot of time in the Northern Palace, and his disciples never trouble him with any menial work, so in the absence of major problems, Shang Qinghua just ends up sitting around eating melon seeds.  

“Hey, I haven’t heard anything from the System for a while. I’m going to poke it and see if there’s any bonus content or rewards for completing the main plot or something.” Shang Qinghua tells Zhiyi. 

Zhiyi looks up from her usual spot on the corner of Shang Qinghua’s desk. The light from the window makes her white fur shimmer. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if it makes us do something weird?” 

“But I’m bored,” Shang Qinghua whines, kicking his feet. “Screw it, I’m going to poke it.” 

【Objective accomplished. Downloading return home function.】

“What?!” Shang Qinghua yelps, nearly choking on a melon seed. “Zhiyi, did you hear that?” 

“We can go home?” Zhiyi asks, breathlessly, “Poke it again! Ask it to say more!”

【Basic accomplishment of《Proud Immortal Demon Way》’s original outline, slight deviation of romance plot, objective accomplished. Function to return to original world download complete. Activate return home sequence?】

“Holy shit,” Shang Qinghua breathes. Tears spring to his eyes. He can go home. He can finish his novel, try that new instant noodle flavor he’d been looking forward to, and get to experience the joys of the PIDW forums again. 

Zhiyi hops into his lap, pressing herself against his stomach. “What do we do?” she whispers.

“Of course, we--” Shang Qinghua stops, because he can’t answer. In the end, who is waiting for him in the world he came from? Both of his parents likely won’t have missed him and his half-siblings definitely wouldn’t have even noticed he was gone. Cucumber-Bro won’t be lighting up the PIDW forums anymore. He didn’t really have any friends in that world, unlike in this world, where he has Cucumber-Bro and Mobei-Jun. Wait, when did he start thinking of Mobei-Jun that way? 

“Never mind,” says Zhiyi, “Let’s forget it and go to sleep for now. We have time to think about it.”

“Right!” Shang Qinghua says, stuffing the rest of his seeds in his mouth, and proceeds to do just that. 

When Shang Qinghua wakes up, he’s freezing. He opens his eyes and it becomes obvious why. Mobei-Jun has portaled him out into the snow somewhere. Since Mobei-Jun couldn’t touch Zhiyi, who had been snuggled against Shang Qinghua’s side, he’d apparently resorted to dragging Shang Qinghua’s blankets to move them both here. 

Shang Qinghua’s tongue has turned into an icicle in his mouth, so it’s Zhiyi who asks, “My queen?”

“Come,” Wenying says. “We have need of you.” 

Shang Qinghua could only follow after Mobei-Jun and Wenying, clinging to what little warmth his now snow-sodden blankets provided. 

Their destination is an ice house, which appears deceptively small from the outside. Once they enter, Shang Qinghua tramps down a long set of stairs behind Mobei-Jun until they come to a bed chamber. 

Mobei-Jun seems at ease, but Shang Qinghua is cold and a little grumpy to have been woken up so abruptly. Just because you’re so handsome doesn’t mean you can get away with anything, my king! 

“Um, my king, how long will we be staying here?” Shang Qinghua asks. There are supplies here, Shang Qinghua notes, food and other necessities, so it’s probably not going to be the short trip Shang Qinghua had hoped for.

“Seven days.” 

Seriously?! This is too much! Shang Qinghua supposed Mobei-Jun wasn’t required to give him a warning about things like this, but it sure would be nice! Oh well, seven days wasn’t so long. It would give him time to think about ways to say goodbye and to appreciate being by Mobei-Jun's side as much as he could before he returned to his own world. 

He shivers, so violently his teeth chatter. He starts jumping, trying to warm himself, and Mobei-Jun’s mouth curls up at the corner, the way it does when he thinks something is very amusing. 

Mobei-Jun reaches over and takes one of Shang Qinghua’s fingers, pinching it lightly. “Stop making a disturbance,” he says, but Shang Qinghua can hear the amusement in his voice, so he knows Mobei-Jun isn’t truly bothered. 

Shang Qinghua feels warm all over, radiating out from Mobei-Jun’s touch. Could he really leave Mobei-Jun behind? Mobei-Jun has a lot of flaws and sometimes he makes Shang Qinghua so irritated, but he’s been kind to Shang Qinghua in his own way. He’s made Shang Qinghua feel safe in the Northern Palace—the lords and servants know the only person who can beat up Shang Qinghua is Mobei-Jun, and he doesn’t even do that so much anymore. Actually, now that Shang Qinghua is thinking about it, he can’t really remember the last time Mobei-Jun has caused him any pain. Being beat up every once in a great while like this really wasn’t so bad!

What is he thinking?! He really shouldn’t be getting beat up at all! But, if he returned home, and Mobei-Jun couldn’t beat him up anymore…Shang Qinghua imagined him beating some other servant, his replacement, and felt strangely jealous. Ah, Shang Qinghua really couldn’t understand his own feelings anymore! Hadn’t he wanted to return more than anything else when he’d first arrived in this world?

“A-Hua, what are you saying?” Zhiyi hisses, shoving her body hard against the side of his leg. 

Suddenly, the cold rushes back into his body, as strong and as sudden as a slap. 

Mobei-Jun looks pissed, as mad as Shang Qinghua had ever seen him. “Return where?”

Oh no. Had he…had he said that out loud? 

Mobei-Jun’s grip on his finger increases until Shang Qinghua thinks he is going to break it. Wenying’s tail lashes, and she growls low and deep in counterpoint to Mobei-Jun demanding, “You’re saying you want to leave now?”

“No, no, not right now!” Shang Qinghua blurts, desperate for Mobei-Jun to release his finger. 

“Not right now implies you intend to leave at a later time. Are you going back on your word?” Wenying says, fiercely.

I will follow my king for the rest of my life. He had said those words over and over, swearing his allegiance. Before, he really had no reason to believe those words were a lie. Had he not poked the system, he really might have followed Mobei-Jun forever! 

“And you?” Wenying says, turning to Zhiyi, who is cowering against Shang Qinghua’s side. “Would you also abandon me? Would you tell me that you did not mean it, when you said you were made to serve me?” 

“My queen,” Zhiyi whimpers, “I—” She’s shaking like a leaf against Shang Qinghua’s leg. “Things are complicated, if we could just explain—”

“What is there to explain?” Wenying snaps, flashing her teeth. Zhiyi flinches hard. 

Silence falls between them. Mobei-Jun grinds his teeth, and Shang Qinghua expects him to start beating him, but Mobei-Jun releases a harsh breath through his teeth, and then says, “If you want to leave, then leave right now. You don’t need to wait seven days.”

Shang Qinghua, who had braced for a blow that never came, says timidly, “My king ah, if I really leave, we will never see each other again from now on.”

The imperious gaze Mobei-Jun shoots him is worse than being struck. Truly, he hasn’t seen Mobei-Jun look at him this way in so long, he had forgotten what it was like. He feels small and insignificant. He feels like crying. 

“What makes you think I would care about that?” Mobei-Jun says.

“Please,” Zhiyi whimpers, “Please.” 

“Get out.” Mobei-Jun snaps. 

Wenying lunges forward and grips the back of Zhiyi’s neck. She’s held her there so many times, and never once has it hurt. But her teeth dig in, and she tosses her head hard. Zhiyi goes flying from her jaws and hits the ice wall behind them, hard. She slumps against the wall and doesn’t move. 

Shang Qinghua cries out at the shock of second hand pain that hits him as Zhiyi collides with the wall. Their bond is a circuit loop of pain, but Zhiyi sends him feelings of reassurance, so Shang Qinghua doesn’t freak out entirely.

Shang Qinghua rushes to Zhiyi and scoops her up in his arms. There’s some blood on her snow white fur where Wenying’s sharp teeth had broken the skin. He turns and glares at Wenying, but both she and Mobei-Jun aren’t even glancing over. Like they don’t even care that Zhiyi could have been seriously hurt. 

Shang Qinghua is furious on Zhiyi’s behalf but more than that he’s bewildered. Sure, Mobei-Jun has beaten him before, but Wenying has never used force against Zhiyi. She’s always worried over Zhiyi after altercations with other guardian creatures or monsters. 

Shang Qinghua opens his mouth to say something, he’s not even sure what, but before he can Mobei-Jun yells impatiently, “Get out of here!”

Shang Qinghua doesn’t hesitate again. He rushes out of the room, cradling Zhiyi to his chest. He bites his lip hard, to keep from crying. He hadn’t wanted this. Saying goodbye to Mobei-Jun was going to be hard, he’d known that. But he’d never imagined he’d be leaving like this, with Mobei-Jun and Wenying hating him. He thinks about how he’d thought of Mobei-Jun as his friend yesterday. He’s so, so stupid. He scrubs hard at his eyes, which are not wet at all, nope! 

At just that moment, Zhiyi tenses in his arms. Shang Qinghua hurries up the rest of the stairs, frantically trying to figure out how he’s going to get Zhiyi some medical attention without Mobei-Jun’s teleportation abilities. Sure, he could use his qi to help heal her, but if he taxes it too much, then he might not have enough left to ride his sword out of here. He’s gotten spoiled; he hasn’t actually had to ride his sword over long distances for ages, not since he started working closely with Mobei-Jun. Ugh, this is all such a mess.

“Wait,” Zhiyi says, the first thing she’s said since she was hurt, and Shang Qinghua skids to a stop. 

“What is it?” Shang Qinghua asks, peering down at his guardian creature. “Are you alright? I can’t believe Wenying hurt you like that!” 

“We need to go back!” Zhiyi cries, “Mobei-Jun and my queen are in danger!” 

“What?!” Shang Qinghua exclaims, “What are you talking about?” 

“It’s Linguang-Jun! I saw him going down the stairs. You know what this means, right? It’s that plot point! We didn’t pass a single servant on the way back here, so Mobei-Jun will be all alone with his uncle.” 

Shang Qinghua turns around, even as he says, “It would be so stupid of us to go back.” 

“We have to! Luo Binghe and Yejian aren’t here to help keep Mobei-Jun and my queen safe. They brought us instead. Us!” 

“Yeah,” murmurs Shang Qinghua, and starts down the stairs. “God, why did we make them so stupid? They could have had Bing-ge here and instead they chose us?”

Zhiyi says, “Heck, if he wasn’t going to bring Luo Binghe, Mobei-Jun could have at least brought an army with him!” 

Shang Qinghua resolves to berate Mobei-Jun about this obvious oversight as soon as he makes sure his king survives this. 

--

Shang Qinghua bides his time, formulating a strategy and a plan. There’s not much he can do but he does have some advantages. The element of surprise will give him a temporary edge and he can use that to buy Mobei-Jun enough time to absorb the power of his bloodline. With the plan in place, he waits until the most critical moment. The second Linguang-Jun moves to attack Mobei-Jun, Shang Qinghua shoots out from his hiding place, coming to stand between the two demon lords. Zhiyi is clutched in his arms, but she wriggles free so she can stand by Shang Qinghua’s side. 

A mocking smile curls at the corner of Linguang-Jun’s lips. “Well, well, a servant has come crawling back. Why return now? Are you here to devotedly protect your master?” 

Weimou, Linguang-Jun’s guardian creature, is perched on his shoulder. He lets out a mocking hoot, his yellow eyes fixed on Zhiyi.

Shang Qinghua took a deep breath. “Who said I came back to protect him? And who told you he was my master?” 

“You’re in my way,” Linguang-Jun says, “Why, if not to protect him?” 

“Actually,” Shang Qinghua says, hiding his shaking hands behind his back, “A-Actually, I’m here because his guardian creature hurt mine. I could tolerate him beating me every day, but now it’s really gone too far! Your nephew and his guardian creature have terrible tempers!” He gestures to Zhiyi, who is, in actuality, in much better shape than he’s trying to pretend thanks to infusions of his qi. But her fur is still stained dark and matted with blood, which helps sell the illusion. 

Behind him, Wenying growls and Shang Qinghua feels Zhiyi flinch. 

“Yes, I really can’t stand it anymore. I’ve served him faithfully all this time, but what have I gotten in return? Pain and punishment, bruises and broken bones! Who the fuck could be devoted to a demon that treats you that way?” 

The temperature plummets. Shang Qinghua can feel Mobei-Jun’s icy glare on his back. There’s absolutely no way he can turn around. 

Linguang-Jun laughs. “Ah, Mobei-Jun, what sort of a king are you? Sold out and betrayed by your most treasured servant. How can we let you take over the Mobei Clan? It will fall to ruin in your hands. Listen to your uncle. Just relax and let me handle the important matters, yes?” 

Shang Qinghua grits his teeth.The absolute gall. Not many dare to insult Mobei-Jun. Only someone very stupid or very powerful would have the audacity. The first is easily dispatched. The second group, too, is no problem, because Mobei-Jun is second only to Luo Binghe in terms of power. The problem is, Linguang-Jun is not just powerful. He’s crafty. He’s been biding his time, waiting for the opportunity to strike. 

Fortunately for Shang Qinghua, Linguang-Jun is also arrogant and he has thoroughly underestimated Shang Qinghua. So, instead of just attacking Mobei-Jun himself, Linguang-Jun turns to Shang Qinghua, grinning, and says, “Please, go ahead. Finish your business with my nephew.”

Shang Qinghua can’t help but laugh gleefully as he sends a fireball directly behind him. As he predicted, Linguang-Jun reacts to the heat of the flame and backs away, shielding his face. Weimou lets out a shriek of alarm and takes flight.

Shang Qinghua grins to himself from within the circle of flames. It worked! He turns to face Mobei-Jun at last, and finds him on one knee, his complexion sickly. Mobei-Jun doesn’t even glance up at him, staring determinedly down at the ground. Shang Qinghua is pretty sure if Wenying wasn’t there at his side he would have collapsed completely.

“My king, I’ve bought us a little time,” Shang Qinghua says, “But I can’t help you with this. Can you bear it?” 

Wenying, still supporting Mobei-Jun, looks up at him, her blue eyes wide, “You came back,” she murmurs. 

“We’re going to talk later, my queen,” Zhiyi says, voice hard and determined, “Right now, it only matters that we get through this.” 

Linguang-Jun scoffs. Shang Qinghua turns his head, and finds the demon lord pacing outside of the circle, sneering at him. Linguang-Jun’s guardian creature has returned to his shoulder; although Weimou can fly, and could feasibly make it over the flames, Wenying is still very much a threat. Linguang-Jun won’t risk sending Weimou into the circle alone. 

“I misspoke earlier; you are far more than devoted. You’re willing to throw away your life for this disappointing nephew of mine! But tell me, this circle of yours, how long can it last?” 

Not long. Shang Qinghua had used up all the tinder he had in a hail mary move out of sheer desperation. If the flames die out, Shang Qinghua has no idea how he’ll keep Mobei-Jun safe. He kneels next to Mobei-Jun, “Please, my king. Your uncle will kill me if you don’t hurry. I really don’t know how long I can keep this circle going. You have to finish this quickly!”

The ground trembles, fragments of ice and dust falling away from the ceiling. Shang Qinghua very nearly topples into Mobei-Jun, but manages to brace himself in time. Fuck, Linguang-Jun is too smart. Shang Qinghua really shouldn’t have made him so smart! Linguang-Jun has attacked an ice pillar, sending big cracks through it. It can’t take another hit before tumbling down, and those pillars are what’s keeping the ice fortress from collapsing. Linguang-Jun’s going to force them out of the circle by bringing the ceiling down on them! 

“You thought that if you don’t come out, I’d have no way to get to you?” Linguang-Jun sneers. 

Shang Qinghua said hurriedly, “I’m coming, I’m coming right now!”

“No!” Wenying cries, “Qinghua, don’t do this!”

Zhiyi presses against Wenying’s leg, whispering, “It’s okay, my queen. We’ll figure it out. I’ll stay right here with you.” 

Shang Qingua hops out of the circle alone. He won’t be able to get back in, now, but that’s okay. As long as he buys enough time for Mobei-Jun to absorb his clan’s powers. Of course, now he’s completely vulnerable to attack by a pissed off demon lord. At least Zhiyi is safe where she’s at, pressed against Wenying.

Linguang-Jun’s face glows with malice in the firelight. He stalks over to Shang Qinghua and grabs him, claws digging into his neck. “Fool, what’s the use of you coming out alone? Withdraw the flames.” 

“I only know how to set fires, not put them out,” Shang Qinghua says, as defiantly as he can while feeling Linguang-Jun’s claws prick into his skin. Blood trickles down his neck. He swallows, throat bobbing. 

Linguang-Jun hums and releases his hand. Shang Qinghua has a second to be confused about that before Linguang-Jun has pressed his hand against his solar plexus. “Then say, if your heart were to start freezing over, would he have a sudden impulse and come out?” 

“You dare!” Wenying cries from inside the circle. Weimou, still circling the ring of fire, lets out a mocking laugh, clicking his beak. 

Shang Qinghua groans. My king, what are you thinking?! That sort of thing is just going to encourage Linguang-Jun!

“Mobei, ah, your uncle really didn’t expect that you would have a dog who refuses to betray you, even in these circumstances. A good dog like this, wouldn’t it be a pity if it were gone?” Linguang-Jun starts chanting an ice spell, without waiting even a moment for Shang Qinghua to try and distract him. The cold rushes in. 

Shang Qinghua has dealt with cold a lot since coming to the Northern Palace. Yet, he’s gotten a bit spoiled. Mobei-Jun always noticed when he was shivering, because he got annoyed by the sound of Shang Qinghua’s teeth chattering away. So whenever Shang Qinghua was really cold, Mobei-Jun would warm him up. Mobei-Jun had also had thick fur cloaks commissioned for him, so that even when Mobei-Jun was away, Shang Qinghua could burrow into the warm fur. Otherwise, Shang Qinghua might be too cold to be able to fulfill his duties properly and Mobei-Jun certainly couldn’t allow that!

There was no chance of a reprieve this time. Shang Qinghua’s brain began to race, trying to think of his next move. Except, his brain is halfway frozen over, because the first thing he thinks to do is to raise his hand for permission to speak, like an obedient disciple. “J-Junshang?” he adds, knowing the title will flatter Linguang-Jun. 

“Speak,” says Linguang-Jun. He cocks his head, his expression amused. He’ll humor Shang Qinghua, confident in his superiority. 

Shang Qinghua says earnestly, through chattering teeth, “If you’re going to… f-f-freeze my heart like this, I-I-I can’t scream aloud, it doesn’t s-s-sound miserable enough, will your n-nephew really c-come out? I advise… advise you to hit me instead. I promise I’ll do my best to scream, scream very miserably.”

Linguang-Jun hums contemplatively. “Oh. But, I’m very heavy-handed, if I can’t control myself and beat you to death, what then?”

“I-i-it’s no problem, I can bear it. I’m used to it, I always s-s-suffer your nephew’s-” Before he even finished speaking, Linguang-Jun slammed his hand into him. There was no demonic power behind the blow, only physical strength, but that was enough to decimate Shang Qinghua’s weak human body. He collapses to the ground, wheezing in pain. 

Distantly, he can hear Wenying crying out, with alarm or anger Shang Qinghua can’t tell. 

It had been a long time since Mobei-Jun had hurt him, not including Wenying’s attack on Zhiyi. Compared to this, Mobei-Jun’s beatings were like a mother cat swatting a naughty kitten. Shang Qinghua had complained bitterly to Zhiyi after Mobei-Jun’s beatings back then, but hadn’t he always been able to recover quickly? 

Linguang-Jun snarls, stepping on Shang Qinghua’s back and hauling up one of his arms. Shang Qinghua abruptly realizes he’d taken the blow silently. “Didn’t you promise you would scream very miserably?”

Shang Qinghua spits out the blood in his mouth in a hurry. He screams, loud and long. He doesn’t really need to play it up; this really hurts, darn it! He can hear Zhiyi crying out in counterpoint to his own pain. 

Linguang-Jun said, “En, not bad. It’s a pity, it’s still not miserable enough. I’ll help you out.”

Linguang-Jun wrenches his shoulder back. Shang Qinghua opens his mouth to scream again, but his voice has abandoned him. Yet, before the pain has lingered too long, Linguang-Jun suddenly lets go, and Shang Qinghua hears Weimou give a hoot of alarm.

He knows what must have happened, even before Mobei-Jun’s midnight blue robe appeared in front of his eyes. 

“My king,” he murmurs, dazed by a combination of pain and relief. 

“Stay down,” Wenying growls, from Mobei-Jun’s side. 

Mobei-Jun shoves a palm into Linguang-Jun’s solar plexus, and Shang Qinghua breathes a sigh of relief. Mobei-Jun’s strike is practically oozing power. Shang Qinghua puts his head down and rests, knowing Mobei-Jun has things handled. 

Shang Qinghua lays there for some time, only lifting his head just enough to be sure Linguang-Jun and Weimou are gone, because Mobei-Jun and Wenying hadn’t said to get up. But then he hears a thud, and Zhiyi cries, “My queen! Oh, I told you it was too risky!” 

Shang Qinghua struggles to turn over and finds Mobei-Jun lying near him. Wenying has also collapsed and Zhiyi is hovering over her, trembling with anxiety. Mobei-Jun’s ice blue eyes are locked onto Shang Qinghua, staring at him intently, but it seems neither he or Wenying have the energy for speech. 

“Ah, my king. Don’t struggle! Just lie down, rest, and focus on finishing digesting the power.”

Mobei-Jun remains silent but he keeps staring at Shang Qinghua. His gaze is always intense, but something about the fact that Mobei-Jun is staring like that and not saying a word sets Shang Qinghua on edge. He pulls himself to his feet, trembling all over with pain and adrenaline. “Actually, my king. I really wanted to talk to you before, and you didn’t let me, so we’ll talk now. Why didn’t you tell me why we came here? I would have never left you at such an important time had I known! What were you thinking?” 

Mobei-Jun still doesn’t say a word, but his lip curls imperiously. 

“And why did you bring me in the first place? I’m of no use to you in this sort of situation. My king, you surely know how useless this one is on the battlefield by now! I couldn’t hope to challenge your uncle, only buy enough time for you to strike back at him.” Shang Qinghua smiles, “But I think you’ve hurt him badly enough to scare him away, and he won’t have the face to come challenge you again. You’ve nearly absorbed your family’s power, so this one will take his leave now.” 

Shang Qinghua hadn’t realized Mobei-Jun had relaxed, but he must have, because the instant those words leave Shang Qinghua’s lips, Mobei-Jun tenses up, a fierce scowl overtaking his face. “Still leaving?! You dare!”

“You sent us away!” Zhiyi cries, “Of course we’re going!” 

“Only because you intended to leave!” Wenying snaps back, and oh, is that hurt in her voice? Oh shit. 

“Wait wait, please don’t misunderstand!” Shang Qinghua cries, “We didn’t—I wasn’t—” He swallows. “I don’t think I could have left, my king. I’d like to see my home, because there are a few things I miss, but not if it means never seeing you again.” 

A curious expression comes over Mobei-Jun’s face. “Your home.” 

“Yes, where I was born. It’s very far from here, my king, in another world you might say, haha. But if I went there, then I probably couldn’t return here.” 

Shang Qinghua waits for questions, but Mobei-Jun seems to be processing his words. At last, Wenying lifts her head, and says, “Have you made your choice for good? Or will you choose differently sometime in the future and leave again?” 

Shang Qinghua hesitates. He doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t keep, not when Mobei-Jun and Wenying are so vulnerable. But doesn’t his heart already know what the right choice is? 

“Not much is waiting there for us,” says Zhiyi, startling Shang Qinghua out of his musing. “Our parents probably don’t miss us and we never really had any friends. There are things we miss, but it’s not worth it to go there when we’d lose you forever.” 

Zhiyi presses her cheek against Wenying’s, something she could never manage when Wenying is standing. “My queen, it’s just that the possibility of returning was never available to us and then suddenly appeared. That’s why we considered it. But we never would have left your side unless you sent us away.” 

Wenying purrs, weakly. “Good.” 

“But you owe me for hurting Zhiyi,” Shang Qinghua demands, “I won’t let that slide.” 

“I understand,” Wenying replies. “I never meant-“ She closes her eyes. “I acted foolishly. Zhiyi, I am sorry. Ask anything of me and I will do it.” 

Zhiyi blinks. “M-My queen?” 

Anything?! Wenying, the powerful queen of the north is just offering anything?! Shang Qinghua’s mouth is hanging open for a solid ten seconds before he blurts out, “You’ll have to…have to make me noodles!” 

Zhiyi snorts. “That’s what I’m worth to you? Noodles?” 

“Shut up!” Shang Qinghua replies, face flaming. 

“As soon as we are recovered, you will have your noodles,” says Wenying, dead serious. 

“Great! And uh, one more thing! This is for all the times you beat me before, my king!” Shang Qinghua pinches Mobei-Jun’s cheek and tugs, showing off Mobei-Jun’s fangs. The sharpness of them vacillates in Shang Qinghua’s mind between hot and terrifying on a normal day. Right now, his fangs just make the weird positions Shang Qinghua contorts Mobei-Jun’s mouth into all the more hilarious. 

Shang Qinghua laughs until he cries. Mobei-Jun is glaring at him, but he takes the abuse without a word, and Shang Qinghua thinks that he made the right choice after all. 

It takes some time before Mobei-Jun is recovered enough to portal them to the Northern Palace. Shang Qinghua offers to fly and get help, but only half-heartedly. He doesn’t love the idea of leaving Mobei-Jun and Wenying alone when they’re still so vulnerable, and he’s pretty sure Mobei-Jun doesn’t want to involve anyone else. 

Sure enough, Mobei-Jun replies, “No. Remain here until we can use the shadows.” 

So Shang Qinghua stays seated next to Mobei-Jun, twiddles his thumbs, and tries to wait as patiently as he can. Zhiyi, apparently not at all afraid of the powerful snow leopard that threw her body against the wall not too long ago, hops over and curls up in the circle of Wenying’s body. Wenying’s eyes go wide with surprise, but she begins purring anyway. 

“I am sorry,” Wenying murmurs. “I have never wanted to hurt you. I was angry.” 

“I know, honey,” Zhiyi replies. “If you really wanted to hurt me, I would have been a lot worse off. But being angry isn’t an excuse to hurt me.” 

Honey?! Shang Qinghua shoots his guardian creature a look. Since when does she have a cutesy nickname for Wenying? Hasn’t it always been my queen? But Zhiyi is too busy making eye contact with Wenying to even spare Shang Qinghua a glance. 

“I will never hurt you again,” says Wenying, firmly. “I swear it.” 

“That’s okay then,” says Zhiyi, sleepily, snuggling into Wenying’s fluffy tail. “Next time you’re angry, just talk to me, okay?” 

“Yes,” says Wenying. She cranes her neck so she can lick the top of Zhiyi’s head. “As long as you promise you will be here to talk to.” 

Shang Qinghua, face flaming, turns away from the two guardian creatures. This is really…too much! But it’s not like he’s going to say anything! That would just make it even more awkward!

But if he’s ignoring the guardian creatures, there’s really only one interesting thing to look at. Or rather, one interesting someone. 

Mobei-Jun’s icy blue eyes have been fixed on Shang Qinghua since Mobei-Jun collapsed. Shang Qinghua has developed a hyper awareness of his king’s gaze, like a spidey sense but way less cool. It comes in handy when Mobei-Jun materializes on An Ding Peak or straight into Shang Qinghua’s office at the Northern Palace. The first few times he just appeared all of a sudden, Shang Qinghua was scared out of his wits. So he’s gotten better at recognizing when he’s being stared at, especially when it’s Mobei-Jun doing the staring.

When Shang Qinghua looks back at Mobei-Jun, Mobei-Jun meets his eyes. Slowly, Mobei-Jun sits up. 

“My king, is there anything you need?” Shang Qinghua asks.

“Come here,” says Mobei-Jun, with the cadence of an order. 

Shang Qinghua obediently scoots closer, until they’re shoulder to shoulder. “Are you recovered them, my king?” 

Mobei-Jun doesn’t reply, instead reaching over and taking Shang Qinghua’s hand. 

“M-My king?!” Shang Qinghua cries, “Are you alright? Do you need a qi transfer? I don’t have much but I’ll give you as much as I can. Just let me—“

“Qinghua,” Mobei-Jun squeezes Shang Qinghua’s hand. Shang Qinghua immediately stops talking. “I am fine. To travel by shadows together, we must be in physical contact.” 

Shang Qinghua’s shoulder is still pressed against Mobei-Jun’s, but maybe Mobei-Jun doesn’t notice? “Oh! Aha, are you feeling well enough then, my king? Okay, go ahead!” 

There’s a pause, long enough that Shang Qinghua starts to get worried his king is having trouble and won’t be able to portal them after all. But as soon as he opens his mouth to ask if Mobei-Jun is really okay, Mobei-Jun’s powers activate and they’re transported to Mobei-Jun’s chambers. 

Specifically, they’re transported directly to Mobei-Jun’s giant bed. Shang Qinghua has never been sitting down when traveling via Mobei-Jun’s portals before. It’s incredibly disorienting. He pretty much immediately flops over. 

“My king?!” Shang Qinghua squeaks, when the world stops spinning. He somehow ended up with his head in Mobei-Jun’s lap. They’re still holding hands. 

“I’m tired,” Mobei-Jun announces. “Sleep.” 

“Oh! Of course you’re tired! Today was a really long day for you! I’ll just head back to my room then and let you sleep,” Shang Qinghua says, springing up from Mobei-Jun’s lap and gently working his hand free. “Sleep well, my king.” 

But as soon as Shang Qinghua starts to scramble off the bed, Mobei-Jun snatches his hand again. “Stay.” 

Shang Qinghua stares at him, incredulously. “My king, I really couldn’t possibly—“ 

“Stay,” Mobei-Jun growls, and pats forcefully on the bed with his free hand. 

Shang Qinghua glances around for Zhiyi, and finds her curled up with Wenying again on a cushion beside the bed. 

“Okay, this is happening,” Shang Qinghua mutters. Fuck it, he’s exhausted too, he really doesn’t feel like walking to his room right now. 

He settles in next to Mobei-Jun and is dead asleep within minutes. 

—

It turns out Mobei-Jun is absolutely horrible at making noodles. Shang Qinghua can’t say he’s surprised. Mobei-Jun has some rudimentary cooking skills but demons usually don’t cook most of their food and noodles are a decidedly human dish. But Mobei-Jun is determined not to accept any help from the palace cooks. 

Shang Qinghua carefully explains every step, but it still takes several batches before Mobei-Jun produces something edible. The trash is full of smoking black noodles. The smell is foul enough to chase both their guardian creatures out of the kitchen. Mobei-Jun has a cute little scowl on his face the entire time he’s cooking, his movements almost painfully slow and careful, so Shang Qinghua doesn’t really mind. 

Mobei-Jun insists on trying the noodles. They commandeer the kitchen servants’ wobbly wooden table, since the entire kitchen staff has already been scared away by Mobei-Jun. Wenying sits in her usual position to the right of Mobei-Jun, and Zhiyi bounds from the floor to the wooden bench and then on to the table. 

Zhiyi sniffs the bowl of noodles, her little nose twitching. “They smell pretty good,” she declares. Given Zhiyi’s keen sense of smell, Shang Qinghua is inclined to believe her. 

Shang Qinghua digs into his bowl just as soon as Mobei-Jun is seated. Mobei-Jun watches him intently as Shang Qinghua slurps away. The noodles are…well, they’re laughably far away from the quality of Luo Binghe’s cuisine, but they’re not bad. Shang Qinghua has absolutely eaten worse. And considering the fact that he hasn’t had decent noodles in years, Shang Qinghua is more than satisfied.

“Well?” Mobei-Jun asks, impatiently. 

“They’re good, my king!” Shang Qinghua says enthusiastically around a mouthful of noodles. “Try them!” 

Mobei-Jun looks dubiously down at his own bowl, but picks up his chopsticks and guides a few noodles into his mouth. Mobei-Jun’s face twists. 

“Don’t spit them out, my king! Swallow!” Shang Qinghua yelps, because he’s sitting right across the table from Mobei-Jun, completely in the splash zone. 

Mobei-Jun’s face remains screwed up, but he obediently swallows. “They are unpalatable,” Mobei-Jun pronounces gravely. “Give me your bowl. I will throw them out.” 

Mobei-Jun reaches across the table, but Shang Qinghua wraps his arm around his bowl and pulls it closer to himself. “No! I’ll finish them, my king! They’re really not bad!” 

Mobei-Jun growls. “Qinghua, give it to me.” 

Shang Qinghua is too busy shoveling noodles into his mouth to reply. If he’s actively eating, maybe Mobei-Jun won’t snatch the bowl away. 

“They’re really fine,” Zhiyi says, “A-Hua wouldn’t eat them otherwise. Believe me, my king, they’re really not bad!” 

Mobei-Jun snaps, “Fine is not good enough!” 

Shang Qinghua glances at Wenying. She’s a good gauge of the severity of Mobei-Jun’s emotions. She’s typically slower to anger than Mobei-Jun is, and her body language tends to indicate if it’s anger-anger or anger disguising another, softer emotion. Wenying looks upset. She’s curled into herself, not her usual proud straight backed posture. This is really distressing them. But why? 

“My king,” Shang Qinghua murmurs, setting down his chopsticks. “Why is it not okay if the noodles are fine?” 

Mobei-Jun grits his teeth. Wenying stands and circles the table so she’s standing a few feet from Shang Qinghua. “You asked for noodles in return for forgiveness for hurting Zhiyi,” she says. “This is a ridiculously small price for us to pay when you could have asked for anything. So the noodles must be perfect.” 

Shang Qinghua looks back at Mobei-Jun. His hands are clenched into fists, but he doesn’t contradict Wenying. “Oh. My king,” Shang Qinghua replies, gently, “Don’t you know I’ve already forgiven you? You can make me more noodles anytime, I really wouldn’t mind that! But they don’t have to be perfect. The fact that I’m here with you, and you’re cooking for me...I’m really happy, my king!” 

“Qinghua,” Mobei-Jun says, as quietly as Shang Qinghua has ever heard him speak. The next moment, Wenying is sidestepping to allow Mobei-Jun room to stand and round the table so he can sit next to Shang Qinghua. 

“My king?” Shang Qinghua asks, confused by the intense look on Mobei-Jun’s face. The next moment, he is being kissed. 

Shang Qinghua has written a lot of kisses. He knows all the cliché lines like lips locked in a passionate embrace and tongues battling for dominance. He knows how kisses are supposed to feel, like electricity, like sparks. This kiss is simultaneously the best and worst kiss Shang Qinghua has ever had. Mostly because it’s the only time he’s been kissed. 

Shang Qinghua is pretty sure it’s Mobei-Jun’s first kiss too. Mobei-Jun is his ideal man. These two facts mostly make up for the fact that Mobei-Jun is a terrible kisser. 

Shang Qinghua has to turn his head because their noses immediately smash together. Mobei-Jun is all teeth and desperation; Shang Qinghua is pretty sure his lip is bleeding in several places. Not to say that Shang Qinghua is any better at this. He’s making this awful high-pitched noise into Mobei-Jun’s mouth. He tries to give Mobei-Jun’s hair a light sexy tug, but Mobei-Jun grunts in response, a decidedly annoyed sort of sound. 

When they break apart so Shang Qinghua can breathe, Mobei-Jun is glaring at him. “You’re terrible at this,” he says. 

“Like you’re any better!” Shang Qinghua cries, patting his stinging lips with his index finger and then, seeing it come away with spots of blood, brandishes it at Mobei-Jun. “Look at this! Do I look like food to you!?” Mobei-Jun contemplates this seriously, and Shang Qinghua’s face burns. “Don’t answer that!” he snaps. 

Mobei-Jun just smirks. God, he’s so handsome. Shang Qinghua isn’t sure whether he wants to clobber him or kiss him again. 

“We will practice,” says Mobei-Jun. “Is that agreeable to you, Qinghua?” 

Shang Qinghua subconsciously licks his lips and feels his cheeks heat when Mobei-Jun’s gaze follows the motion. “That would be---um, yes. Yes, my king, we can practice.”

—

Shang Qinghua has never been more content at the Northern Palace. Mobei-Jun has been showering him with noodles and kisses, both of which have improved with time. Wenying, if possible, has become even more affectionate with Zhiyi. Zhiyi has been encouraging her to play more, behind closed doors of course so as to preserve her reputation. Wenying takes immense satisfaction in finding Zhiyi during rounds of hide and seek and carrying her around triumphantly like a warprize as a result. 

Wenying’s even been sticking close to Shang Qinghua! Not touching him, of course, but it’s not uncommon now for her to sit by Shang Qinghua’s side instead of Mobei-Jun’s during council meetings. That had caused quite a stir at first, but after Mobei-Jun summarily killed the loudest naysayer, the rest of the council fell in line. It’s kind of fun to hear her snorts of derision or little growls of displeasure in reaction to the council’s suggestions. She even purrs on occasion, usually when Shang Qinghua pipes up with advice that the council is forced to acknowledge is sound.

All in all, Shang Qinghua is extremely pleased with how things have turned out. If he died tomorrow, he’d die a very happy man! He’d never imagined that he might one day be dating his king, a man that he’d come to know and love in a way he’d never experienced before. Shang Qinghua is more than satisfied with that outcome, but Mobei-Jun and Wenying apparently have other ideas.

One morning, Shang Qinghua wakes up with his head resting against Mobei-Jun’s chest. He keeps his eyes closed for a moment, listening to Mobei-Jun’s heartbeat and feeling the comforting rise and fall of Mobei-Jun’s chest. He presses a little kiss to the middle of Mobei-Jun’s sternum, and mumbles, “Good morning, my king.” 

“Good morning,” says Mobei-Jun, his voice deeper and rumbly the way it is when he’s just woken. Shang Qinghua thrills a little every time, at the pleasure of getting to hear his king’s sleepy morning voice. 

“I have to go to An Ding today,” says Shang Qinghua, sighing. “I’ll try to be back tonight.” 

“Fine,” Mobei-Jun grumbles sullenly. “Return as quickly as you can. We have a council meeting tomorrow.” 

“I’ll come back as quick as I can manage, my king,” says Shang Qinghua, kissing his chest again. “Is there anything that I should take care of before I go?”

“Nothing I cannot handle,” Mobei-Jun replies. “Do not trouble yourself with it.” 

Shang Qinghua smiles. Although Shang Qinghua is something of a work-a-holic and thus has taken over a lot of the logistics of running the Northern Kingdom, Mobei-Jun is perfectly capable of running things without any help. Mobei-Jun is much more interested in the affairs of his kingdom than most demons give him credit for. It’s just that he also is a spoiled king, who is happy to pawn off work on Shang Qinghua, someone he knows is loyal and will do the job well. 

“Okay, my king. I’ll leave after breakfast then,” Shang Qinghua says. 

That decided, Shang Qinghua resolves to stay in bed a little longer, in no rush to leave Mobei-Jun, and snuggles his cheek against Mobei-Jun’s chest. 

Out of nowhere, Mobei-Jun says, “Qinghua, you  should touch Wenying.” 

“What?!” Shang Qinghua cries, jolting in Mobei-Jun’s arms and ramming the top of his head against Mobei-Jun’s chin. “Oww, shit, sorry my king! You startled me!” 

Shang Qinghua rubs at his head, wincing. At least his hair will hide the no-doubt nasty bruise he’s going to have on the top of his head. Mobei-Jun’s sharp jawline and square chin are devastatingly attractive, but they also hurt like hell coming into contact with his head.

“Stop moving around.” Mobei-Jun demands, but in the same breath, curls his arm tighter around Shang Qinghua’s waist. 

Their two guardian creatures are on their usual cushion at the foot of the bed. Wenying uncurls from around Zhiyi and pads over to the side of the bed so she can meet Shang Qinghua’s eyes. “Well?” she says. Her voice is calm and even as ever but her lashing tail betrays her emotion. 

Shang Qinghua looks at her, helplessly. “Are you really sure about this? Like 100% certain? Because there’s still time to back out and once we--you know--I mean, that’s it, no take backs, so are you really, really sure--” 

“Qinghua,” Wenying interjects, more patiently than Shang Qinghua probably deserves. “I am certain. All will be well. I am not worried, so why are you?”

“Yeah, see, that’s the part I don’t get! Why aren’t you worried about this? You are way too calm. I could hurt you, really hurt you!”

“Ridiculous,” says Mobei-Jun, and Shang Qinghua can’t see his face but he’s almost positive he just rolled his eyes, the asshole. “Either touch her or don’t, stop wasting time.”

Shang Qinghua looks helplessly at Zhiyi. She sighs, hopping forward to press against Wenying’s side. Wenying turns to her and dips her head, so they can look at each other face to face. 

“We would hate ourselves if we hurt you,” Zhiyi murmurs, “We couldn’t bear it if we caused you any pain.” 

“You foolish little creature,” Wenying purrs, sounding amused and fond and soft. “As if you could ever harm me.” 

“But we have,” Zhiyi murmurs back, “We thought about leaving you, that time with Linguang-Jun…” she trails off, miserably. 

“Do you intend to leave?” Mobei-Jun asks, sharply. His arms are like a vice grip around Shang Qinghua now. Shang Qinghua winces. This is still a sore spot between them, even now. Mobei-Jun has been abandoned by everyone else all his life, so Shang Qinghua can’t say he doesn’t understand.

Shang Qinghua shakes his head, rubbing his cheek against Mobei-Jun’s chest. “No, my king!” 

At the same time, Zhiyi says to Wenying, “I would never leave you my queen!”

“Then there is no issue,” Mobei-Jun says dismissively, his grip on Shang Qinghua relaxing again, and Wenying dips her head in agreement. 

“I—I need to think about this,” Shang Qinghua murmurs, sitting up. “My king, is it ok if I give you an answer later? I’ll be at An Ding most of the day, anyway.” 

Mobei-Jun looks like he sucked on a lemon, but Wenying replies, “Very well. But do not overthink this. We would not offer this if we did not trust you.” 

“Right, thank you a-Ying!” Shang Qinghua squeaks, flustered. Wenying chuffs, whiskers twitching, and Shang Qinghua squeals a little bit, internally of course, about how cute his boyfriend’s guardian creature is.

For advice on understanding the ways of your demon partner with a tragic backstory, there is really only one person to turn to. Once Shang Qinghua is dressed and eaten, he heads to his office and hastily writes his bro an SOS. 

Mobei-Jun portals them to An Ding Peak and Shang Qinghua gives him a grateful kiss goodbye. His disciples, who are desensitized to Mobei-Jun now, come running over, shouting “Shizun! You’re back!” Mobei-Jun shoots them a glare, but the disciples don’t even heed him, instead tackling Shang Qinghua the moment Mobei-Jun steps away and disappears back to the Northern Palace. Shang Qinghua, laughing with delight, greets his disciples warmly. He never thought they’d be okay with his relationship with Mobei-Jun, but maybe seeing Luo Binghe around sometimes had smoothed things over? 

Shang Qinghua hands one of his younger disciples the letter and sends her running off to Qing Jing peak with strict instructions to deliver the letter to Shen Qingqiu as quickly as possible. Then, he busies himself making sure none of the administration of the sect has collapsed in his absence. 

He’s pleased to find that his disciples have held down the fort well since he’s been away from the peak and he quickly completes the few tasks important enough that they’ve been left for him to manage. His disciples do seem distressed that he’s not staying longer, though, so maybe they’re not as happy with their workload as he’d thought. Shang Qinghua makes a mental note to reconsider the division of labor for the peak one more time. 

When Shang Qinghua arrives at Shen Qingqiu’s bamboo house, he finds Shen Qingqiu seated at the table, tea and sesame balls arranged in front of him. Luo Binghe’s work, no doubt. Qingzhi, his caracal guardian creature, pricks up her ears upon their approach, and pads over to touch noses with Zhiyi in greeting. 

Qingzhi wriggles, an invitation to play, and Zhiyi darts off, Qingzhi tearing at her heels. Qingzhi almost always wins these little games of chase, but neither of them seem to ever get tired of it. Shang Qinghua watches them tear around the house with bemusement.

“What have you gotten yourself into this time, Airplane?” Shen Qingqiu asks, raising an eyebrow, which means that Luo Binghe must have already left the vicinity. 

“Ahaha, hi Cucumber Bro. Good to see you,” says Shang Qinghua, settling at the table and helping himself to a sesame ball. Luo Binghe’s delightfully good cooking bursts across his tongue. Shang Qinghua shakes his head. Not for the first time, he regrets not giving Mobei-Jun superior cooking skills too. It’s really not fair that Shen Qingqiu gets gourmet cooking like this for every meal!

Shen Qingqiu gives him a flat look. “Out with it. What have you done?” 

“Who says I did anything?” Shang Qinghua complains, “Why can’t you just be happy to see me?”

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. “Hi, Airplane. I’m happy to see you. Now, will you tell me why you sent me a frantic letter saying we needed to meet right away if you aren’t in any trouble?”

Shang Qinghua deflates. “Well, it’s...it’s about my king.” 

Shen Qingqiu frowns, leaning closer. “Okay, I’m going to need a little more than that. What about him? Did you two have a fight or something?” 

“Not exactly,” Shang Qinghua sighs. “He wants me to touch Wenying.” 

“That...sounds like the opposite of a problem,” Shen Qingqiu says, slowly. “Why, exactly, are you telling me about this?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Shang Qinghua moans, “It’s such a big deal! I didn’t expect him to actually want to try it. I mean, even Luo Binghe hasn’t touched anyone else’s guardian creature!” 

“Don’t be so sure of that,” Qingzhi purrs, from the corner of the room, where she has Zhiyi pinned under her paw. 

Zhiyi wriggles free easily, because Qingzhi had barely put any pressure on her to begin with. “No way!”

“You--wait really?” Shang Qinghua blurts, whipping his head back to Shen Qingqiu, feeling like his eyes are about to pop out of his head like some American cartoon character. 

Shen Qingqiu flushes and darts behind his fan. “Why are you so surprised?” he demands. 

“But--But Bing-ge never once touches any of his wives’ guardian creatures! Wait, have you touched Yejian?” Shen Qingqiu’s answering flush is all the confirmation Shang Qinghua needs. “Bro! How’d you manage that? Never feeling safe enough to open up to others that way was like a huge theme of theirs in the novel!” 

Shen Qingqiu flicks open his fan. “I’m aware of that. But unlike in your shitty novel, Airplane, this world’s Binghe has someone who cares about him for who he is, and not for his power and good looks.” 

“Uh, bro, if you’re saying you don’t care about Luo Binghe’s good looks, then that’s a flat out lie.”

“They liked him only for his power and good looks,” Shen Qingqiu snaps, hiding his reddening face behind his fan.

Shang Qinghua snickers, which earns him a thwack over the head with Shen Qingqiu’s fan. “Sorry, sorry!” 

His embarrassment now having been expelled in violence, Shen Qingqiu returns nonchalantly to their conversation. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. The first time I touched Yejian I thought I was losing Luo Binghe and I was doing everything I could think of to bring him back to me.” Shang Qinghua gags dramatically, earning him another wallop over the head with Shen Qingqiu’s fan. 

“Anyway,” Shen Qingqiu says, glaring at Shang Qinghua, “It wasn’t like we sat down and had a conversation about it. Either time, actually. Binghe didn’t even mean to touch Qingzhi the first time.” For some reason he turns his irritated look in the direction of Qingzhi when he says that.  

“Seriously?” Shang Qinghua groans, “Ugh! I really don’t even know why my king wants to do this in the first place. I mean, it would be one thing if he wanted to touch Zhiyi, because he still kind of has a fear of me leaving him, and doing that would assure him of my feelings. But he wants me to touch Wenying! I really don’t get it!” He very sadly regards one of Luo Binghe’s little sesame balls before he pops it into his mouth. 

Shen Qingqiu just rolls his eyes. “Why does Mobei-Jun do anything? He’s obsessed with you!”

Shang Qinghua flushes. “I really wish you would stop saying that. My king only stopped regularly beating me up after I saved his life. The first time, I mean.” 

Shen Qingqiu just shoots him a look. 

Shang Qinghua laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, “Anyway, you gotta help me bro! I have no idea how to handle this!”

Shen Qingqiu pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’m guessing you haven’t seriously thought about this at all yet. Do you want to touch Wenying? Because it sounds like Mobei-Jun and Wenying are more than willing to let you.”

“I don’t know!” Shang Qinghua wails, “Of course I’ve never thought about it! Why would I think my king would ever let me touch her? I wrote them to be cold and aloof! Letting a human touch their soul is like, completely OOC!”

“Not if the human is you,” says Shen Qingqiu. “Like I said. Obsessed.” 

Shang Qinghua wants to scream. Instead, he flops forward and bangs his forehead against the table. “Brooooo,” he whines, “I don’t know what to do!”

Shen Qingqiu sighs dramatically. “Airplane, I can’t tell you what to do. This is a big decision, so you should actually use that useless brain of yours for something other than writing shitty smut scenes. Take the time to think about your feelings. If you trust him, really trust him, and he trusts you, that’s a good start. But you need to be all in. This is his soul we’re talking about here.”

“Yeah,” Shang Qinghua murmurs, lifting his head. “I know. That’s why I don’t want to mess it up. What if I hurt him?”

“I can’t promise you won’t,” Shen Qingqiu says, “There’s always that possibility. But love is like that too. You can hurt someone, badly, out of love.” Shen Qingqiu swallows hard, his eyes distant. “But you have to take that risk to love them anyway. Because if you don’t....then you might miss out on something wonderful.” 

Shang Qinghua stares. “That was....unexpectedly profound of you, bro.”

Shen Qingqiu whips his fan out, but the bright-red tips of his ears give his blush away. “Yes, well. Is that all? Binghe will be back soon.”

“What...does it feel like?” Shang Qinghua asks. “Like obviously it feels good or you wouldn’t do it, but…” he trails off, embarrassed. 

Shen Qingqiu tilts his head behind his fan, his quintessential thinking pose. “It’s hard to describe. It’s warm. And powerful, but not in a bad way.”

“Huh.” 

“Anything else?” Shang Qinghua raises an eyebrow, impatient.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m leaving,” says Shang Qinghua. “Come on, Zhiyi.” Zhiyi obediently wriggles out from where Qingzhi had pinned her again and touches noses with her in a friendly goodbye. 

“Good luck,” says Shen Qingqiu, as they step outside. Then he mutters, just loud enough for Shang Qinghua to hear, “You’ll need it.”

“Rude!” Shang Qinghua shouts over his shoulder, and stomps away.

As Shang Qinghua and Zhiyi walk away from the bamboo house, Luo Binghe materializes from out of nowhere and goes rushing in, not sparing Shang Qinghua a single glance. Yejian, Luo Binghe’s gigantic wolf dog guardian creature, is practically tripping over her paws to get inside. Sheesh, those two. Around Shen Qingqiu, they barely resemble the fearsome demon lord and vicious wolf dog of Proud Immortal Demon Way. 

Normally, Shang Qinghua would call for Mobei-Jun, now that his business is concluded. Traveling by shadows is incredibly convenient, so Shang Qinghua rarely travels by sword these days. Yet, Shen Qingqiu has a point. He really does need to think about this, and calling Mobei-Jun now won’t give him that time. So, Shang Qinghua decides he’ll head back to the North the long way. If he comes to a decision along the way, he can always call Mobei-Jun so he doesn’t have to make the whole journey. 

Having made up his mind, he carefully bundles Zhiyi up in his robes and takes to the sky.

Does he want to touch Wenying? He’s really not sure. He imagines touching her and feeling the sort of warm dramatic feeling Shen Qingqiu described. That doesn’t sound so bad. But what if he doesn’t feel that? What if he feels the sensation people usually feel when they touch each other’s guardian creatures? Every kid learns from the time they’re babies that touching another person’s guardian creature without consent is the worst sin a person can commit. It causes excruciating pain and a feeling of violation. Without an intense love and trust between the people involved, that kind of result is guaranteed. Can he really say he’s worthy of touching Mobei-Jun’s soul? Can Wenying really trust him so much?

He’s brought violently out of his thoughts by a thunderclap. Uh oh. The next moment, he’s being pelted with rain. He veers sharply downward, hoping the shelter of the tree’s below him will protect him from at least some of the downpour. He doesn’t really recognize this area, but he’s made it far enough from the mountains that he’s probably around the edge of the Northern territory by now. 

Soaked to the bone, teeth chattering, and feeling just as confused and miserable as before, Shang Qinghua starts trudging forward on foot. He’ll have to find some better shelter like a cave or something. He’ll build a fire, dry off, and think a little longer. This way, he’ll be able to talk to Zhiyi. Between the two of them, they’ll figure something out. Then he’ll call for Mobei-Jun and go home. 

As he steps into the cave, he gently removes Zhiyi from his robes and sets her down. Except, the moment she sees what’s ahead of them, she freezes, her body a stiff line of tension. Shang Qinghua looks up and comes face to face with the very last person he wants to see. 

Linguang-Jun grins. “Well, well, it seems it’s my lucky day.”

“I-I was just leaving,” Shang Qinghua blurts out, “Sorry to disturb you, Junshang, haha!” He backs up a step. He just needs to call for Mobei-Jun, but indecision stops his tongue. He still hasn’t figured out whether or not he should really touch Wenying! 

Linguang-Jun’s grin turns wolffish. “Oh, I think not.” 

With a screech, Weimou, Linguang-Jun’s snowy owl guardian creature, dives from Linguang-Jun’s shoulder and snatches Zhiyi by the scruff of her neck. 

Shang Qinghua yells, in mirrored pain and horror. “Zhiyi! Let her go! Don’t hurt her!” 

Weimou cages Zhiyi with his claws, pinning her to the cave floor. 

“As long as you behave, I won’t harm her,” says Linguang-Jun, pleasantly. “Don’t get any bright ideas about calling for help. I wouldn’t want anyone else intruding on our conversation. Or else, Weimou’s talons might just…slip.” 

Weimou’s talons flex and dig into Zhiyi’s side, pinpricks of sharp pain. 

Fuck, Shang Qinghua should have called for Mobei-Jun immediately. What was he thinking?! “Fine,” says Shang Qinghua, “What did, uh, what did Junshang want to talk about?” 

“There have been certain rumors flying around about you and my nephew. That the two of you are courting.” 

Shang Qinghua’s throat bobs. 

“So they’re true then.” Linguang-Jun scoffs. “Well then, tell me, why would my nephew stoop to court a weak little human? A servant, no less!” 

“I-I suppose it’s my good looks?” Shang Qinghua answers, weakly.

“Don’t play coy with me boy!” Linguang-Jun snaps. Weimou’s talons curl, and Zhiyi whimpers in pain. “You have some value, or Mobei-Jun would have killed you long ago. And you must have great value to be even considered for the position of consort. What is it?” 

“I-I know many things Junshang! Many things about the North, and the various tribes, and of the natural resources of this world. He values my advice, my counsel.” 

“Hmm. More convincing, but why not keep you as a simple advisor then?” 

“That’s because. Because my king trusts me, Junshang,” Shang Qinghua says. ““I have proven my loyalty to him, more than once. No one else in his life has stayed by his side. They have all made promises and broken them. But I’ll never leave him. I’ll serve my king forever!”  As Shang Qinghua says ‘my king’, he thinks, ‘Please oh please let this work. My king, hear me and come quickly!’ 

He’s never called for Mobei-Jun so ambiguously before. Shang Qinghua has always made a point to call very obviously, because otherwise Mobei-Jun would have to check every time Shang Qinghua mentioned him when he was talking to Shen Qingqiu or the servants at the northern palace. But this is the only way Shang Qinghua can think of to call without really calling and earning Linguang-Jun’s ire. 

If Mobei-Jun and Wenying were here, Shang Qinghua would touch her. He’d drop to his knees and bury his face in her fur. And she’d purr with delight and he’d feel the vibrations against his cheek. Because Mobei-Jun trusts him and loves him. Shang Qinghua was stupid for doubting that. 

“Qinghua!”  

Shang Qinghua is half convinced he’s hallucinating Mobei-Jun’s voice until Linguang-Jun snarls. “I told you not to call for anyone.” 

Shang Qinghua opens his mouth to greet Mobei-Jun but a scream tears its way out instead as Weimou digs his claws into Zhiyi’s sides. He can hear Zhiyi screaming too, high-pitched and wild with pain. He staggers backward, until he’s caught by strong arms and a broad chest. 

“Don’t you touch her!” Wenying yowls, and springs forward, wrenching Weimou off of Zhiyi. The shock of relief as Weimou’s claws come free has Shang Qinghua sagging in Mobei-Jun’s arms. 

Shang Qinghua murmurs, “Ah, my king. You really came. I wasn’t sure if it would work, to call you that way.” 

“I will always hear your call,” Mobei-Jun says, low and soft. “It is the intent that matters.” 

“Oh,” Shang Qinghua echoes, stupidly. 

It takes him a moment to come out of his daze and realize he’s still very much in the thick of things. Linguang-Jun is snarling with rage and pain as Wenying and Weimou go tumbling across the cave floor, claws and talons tearing and fur and feathers flying. Zhiyi is still laying where she was pinned, panting. Shang Qinghua reaches out to her through their bond. She’s hurt badly, that much is obvious, but even still Shang Qinghua can sense relief in her. Now that Mobei-Jun and Wenying are here, the situation has improved drastically. Except, Linguang-Jun’s ice-cold eyes turn to Zhiyi’s form. 

Shang Qinghua’s heart drops as the demon lord stalks forward, towards Zhiyi, badly hurt and unable to move. He can’t intend to—no, even for a villain like Linguang-Jun, this is too much! He had penned many villains, most stupid and easily dispatched and some conniving and prideful, but only the cruelest of villains would even think to touch another person’s guardian creature without their consent. But then, hadn’t Linguang-Jun abandoned a young Mobei-Jun to be killed by humans as a young child? Hadn’t he tried to murder him during his ascention ceremony? What wouldn’t someone like Linguang-Jun do to feel superiority over his nephew, who Linguang-Jun had always been inferior to in every way?

“Zhiyi!” Shang Qinghua cries, alarmed. “Come over here! Quickly!” Alarm zips through their bond, and Zhiyi struggles to rise, but even though she manages to stand, every hop towards Shang Qinghua is excruciating. She’ll never make it in time. 

Wenying can’t come to her rescue either; she’s still locked in a fierce conflict with Weimou. Although Wenying is a larger and fiercer predator, Weimou uses his speed to his advantage, swooping low to strike with his talons and then flying out of range when Wenying tries to retaliate. Wenying will win this fight, but Weimou will do as much damage as he can first. 

Shang Qinghua can feel Mobei-Jun’s grip on him tighten when he realizes his uncle’s intent. He lets go of Shang Qinghua only long enough to thrust him behind his back, then steps closer, ready to intercept his uncle. “Stay away from her,” he growls, “You are unworthy to be in her presence.” 

Linguang-Jun scoffs, still strolling ever closer to Zhiyi. He stops, only a foot away, and stares down at her with a contemptuous sneer. “A hare? Really, nephew, is this the level to which you’ll stoop? A prey animal, so easily dispatched by any predator of the north?”

Mobei-Jun generates an ice sword, poised to strike if Linguang-Jun makes a move. “Not just a hare. An arctic hare,” Mobei-Jun replies, “She belongs to the North. She belongs to me.” 

Shang Qinghua trembles. ‘Yes,’ crows his heart, ‘yes, yes!’

Linguang-Jun stares down at Zhiyi like one might examine a bug trapped in a jar. “Tell me, nephew, have you touched her? No, I can tell from your reaction earlier you haven’t. Wouldn’t it be a shame, if I was to taint her? So that no matter what, you would never be the first?”

“It wouldn’t matter,” Shang Qinghua says, voice trembling with both fear and passion. “Because my king will be the first to touch her in every way that matters. I will always trust my king, no matter what you do or say.”

“That’s right,” says Zhiyi, her voice tight with pain, “You’re just jealous.” 

In a flash, Mobei-Jun rushes over and scoops Zhiyi up in his arms, whisking her away from Linguang-Jun and under the outer layer of his robes. The touch is brief, but Shang Qinghua very nearly swoons like a waifish maiden. 

Mobei-Jun’s touch is bright and bursts into him like a lightning strike. But it doesn’t hurt. It feels like the exhilaration of a sudden rush of inspiration and the comfort of a thick winter coat during a winter storm. It’s a real struggle not to throw himself into Mobei-Jun’s arms and kiss him all over, Linguang-Jun be damned. 

His legs might really have given out if it wasn’t for the fact that he stumbles backward and leans against the cave wall for support. But in doing so, the back of Shang Qinghua’s left arm comes into contact with a sharp jutting piece of rock and he lets out a yelp.

“Oh nephew,” Linguang-Jun says, shaking his head mournfully, “Yet another mistake. You’ve touched your precious one’s soul and he’s cried out in pain. Oh dear, what a shame. Clearly all his pretty words are just that.” 

Mobei-Jun’s entire body goes rigid. He turns his head to look at Shang Qinghua and the look on his face is…Shang Qinghua can hardly recognize him. His proud, noble king looks like an empty balloon, utterly dejected. 

“Qinghua?” he says, like a question, but one he already knows the awful answer to. 

“My king—” Shang Qinghua starts to say, determined to wipe that awful expression off Mobei-Jun’s face. But out of the corner of his eye, he sees movement. It’s Linguang-Jun, crafting a ball of ice magic while Mobei-Jun’s focus is entirely on Shang Qinghua. Mobei-Jun won’t turn around in time to parry the strike. 

“Stop!” Shang Qinghua screams, fury and fear rushing through him. Shang Qinghua summons a fireball; it’s not nearly as powerful as the one he had used during Mobei-Jun’s ascension, but Linguang-Jun doesn’t know that. It flares, bright and hot in his hand, as he rushes to his king’s side.  

“Back off,” Shang Qinghua says. He hardly recognizes his voice. It’s steady and fierce, so unlike him. “If you hurt my king, I’m not afraid to do worse to you.” 

For once, Linguang-Jun doesn’t seem to have anything to stay. He backs away from Mobei-Jun, his eyes never leaving the flame cracking and popping in Shang Qinghua’s palm. 

“Leave. And don’t ever come back. If I see your face again, I will kill you,” Shang Qinghua says, brandishing the flame. 

Linguang-Jun’s eyes flick to Mobei-Jun. “No matter,” he says, “I’ve accomplished my aim, for the moment.” Then with a rushing sound, he and Weimou are gone. 

Immediately, the flame in Shang Qinghua’s palm sputters and dies. Shang Qinghua rushes to Mobei-Jun’s side. “My king, are you hurt?”

“Take her,” Mobei-Jun murmurs and Shang Qinghua realizes that Zhiyi is still pressed tightly against Mobei-Jun’s chest, between the layers of his robes. 

Shang Qinghua moves slowly, carefully, trying not to jostle Zhiyi’s injuries. He takes her into his arms, feeling with relief the quick beat of her heart. 

“I’m fine,” Zhiyi says, sounding exhausted, “A little worse for wear, but at least Linguang-Jun didn’t manage to touch me.” 

Shang Qinghua strokes a hand down Zhiyi’s back, carefully dodging injuries as he goes, and starts an infusion of qi. Then he returns his attention to Mobei-Jun. “My king, let’s go home. I don’t want to linger here, in case Linguang-Jun comes back.” 

“I’m sorry,” says Mobei-Jun, and Shang Qinghua actually double-takes. If Mobei-Jun is apologizing out of the blue like this, he must be delirious with secondhand pain. This is bad! He scans the cave, looking for Wenying. He finds her, limping towards them, her coat a mess of lacerations. The blood is starkly visible against her white coat. 

“A-Ying,” Shang Qinghua cries, “A-Ying, how bad is it? Should I go and get help? I’m sure my king can give you some qi and I have some medicinal plants in my bag, but it’ll be better if we can get home.” 

“As if I could be bested by Weimou,” Wenying sniffs, but there’s no denying the exhaustion in her voice, “Do not fret about us, Qinghua. We are strong enough to return to the palace.” 

“My king, let’s go quickly,” says Shang Qinghua. He gently shifts Zhiyi so he can cradle her to his chest with one hand. With the other, he reaches out for Mobei-Jun’s hand. 

Mobei-Jun flinches away. 

“My king?” Shang Qinghua asks, bewildered. “Are you okay? Do you not think you can get us home after all?” 

“I touched her,” says Mobei-Jun, bleakly, “I did not ask. I am no better than Linguang-Jun.” 

Shang Qinghua laughs. He really shouldn’t have, but it just kind of comes out! Mobei-Jun scowls at him, his ‘I’m hurting but I’m going to hide it behind anger’ scowl. Shang Qinghua stops laughing instantly, in the face of that look. 

“My king, oh my king. I love you, but you’re really so easy to manipulate. You should know by now that everything your uncle says to you is a lie. You never hurt me, not a bit! Actually, I just sort of fell backward and into a rock.” 

“You—what?!” Mobei-Jun cries. 

Shang Qinghua shakes his head. “Well, my legs nearly gave out, my king! In a good way, it felt really good! But uh, I needed to brace myself on something, but there was this jagged piece of rock that I backed up into-” 

“Not that!” Mobei-Jun demands. “What did you mean by—what you said first!” 

“What do you think we meant?” says Zhiyi, softly, from Shang Qinghua’s arms. “My king, please do touch me again, when I’m not a walking bruise. It was amazing as it was, but it’ll be much nicer when I can appreciate it properly!!” 

“You love me?” Mobei-Jun murmurs.

“Have I never said? What, did you think I was kissing you and going on dates with you and doing…other things with you just for fun?” Shang Qinghua smiles. “My king, I’ve loved you longer than I’ve loved anyone else in this world.” 

“Truly?” Wenying’s voice is timid, almost child-like. When Shang Qinghua turns to look at her, her shoulders are hunched and her tail is tucked close to her body. It’s the most vulnerable Shang Qinghua has ever seen her. 

“Honey, of course,” Zhiyi says. “Why would we lie to you?” 

“The last person who said they loved us…betrayed our trust completely,” murmurs Wenying. 

“Well fuck him! He’s an asshole and I wish I really had thrown that fireball in his face!” Shang Qinghua blurts. 

Wenying’s whiskers twitch and then she laughs, bright and loud. Both Shang Qinghua and Zhiyi stare at her in shock. 

“M-My queen?” Zhiyi gasps, “You just laughed!” 

“You amuse me,” says Wenying, a smile evident in her voice. “It’s one of the reasons we cannot bear to be without you.” 

Mobei-Jun takes Shang Qinghua’s face in his hands. “Qinghua. Have you thought about my question?” 

Shang Qinghua nods, between Mobei-Jun’s palms. “Yes my king, I have.” He takes a deep breath. “My king, I want to. I really want to!” 

In the next breath, Mobei-Jun is kissing him passionately, though Mobei-Jun is still careful about keeping his chest from brushing Zhiyi in Shang Qinghua’s arms. Shang Qinghua kisses back of course, unconsciously swaying forward. 

“Let’s return to the palace,” says Mobei-Jun, when he breaks the kiss. “I will have the physician called. We can continue this once Zhiyi is treated.” 

Shang Qinghua looks down at Zhiyi in his arms. Zhiyi wriggles, a wordless request to be set down. Shang Qinghua stoops, lets her hop free, and immediately throws his arms around Wenying’s neck. 

Wenying’s blue eyes widen and her whole body tenses, but she doesn’t pull away. In fact, Shang Qinghua can feel her relaxing as he touches her. Mobei-Jun gasps a sharp inhale. Shang Qinghua’s never heard him make a sound like that before. 

“Qinghua,” Wenying murmurs, sounding dazed. 

“Sorry,” says Shang Qinghua, “I really couldn’t wait.” 

Mobei-Jun sinks to his knees. “Qinghua.” His voice is the most tremulous Shang Qinghua has ever heard it. When Shang Qinghua looks at him, his blue eyes are bright with tears. “You truly were made for me. My Qinghua.” 

“My king,” Shang Qinghua echoes, feeling the burn of tears in the back of his throat. 

“Qinghua is mine. And I am his.” Mobei-Jun says. Zhiyi practically flings herself into Mobei-Jun’s arms. 

Needless to say, it takes them a while to let go of each other after that.

--

“So,” says Shen Qingqiu, raising an eyebrow. “I see you’ve figured things out with Mobei-Jun.” He looks pointedly at Wenying, who is seated on Shang Qinghua’s right.

The two of them are sitting together in the palace courtyard, drinking tea and catching up. Across the courtyard, Mobei-Jun and Luo Binghe are ostensibly discussing recent trade negotiations, but from what Shang Qinghua can tell, it’s devolved into one of their usual sparring matches. Zhiyi is on the table, sniffing at the snacks Luo Binghe had provided, while Qingzhi and Wenying have a staring contest from their positions next to Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua respectively. 

“Pot, meet kettle.” Shang Qinghua says, raising an eyebrow back. Luo Binghe’s Yejian has her giant head in Shen Qingqiu’s lap, her tongue lolling from her mouth in sheer bliss. Shen Qingqiu pauses in rubbing Yejian’s ears and stroking the top of her head to scowl at Shang Qinghua and then immediately picks up again in the face of Yejian’s puppy eyes. 

“Obviously it’s better to keep the guardian creatures out of the spar, to prevent real injury,” says Shen Qingqiu, imperiously, as if Shang Qinghua didn’t know that’s why Yejian and Wenying had come over in the first place. But that doesn’t justify why Yejian had darted over, tail wagging, and immediately plopped her head in Shen Qingqiu’s lap, with no lead-up whatsoever! 

“Uh huh,” says Shang Qinghua. “So I guess you don’t mind if I…” he trails off, but reaches out a hand towards Wenying, who sits up straighter with interest. 

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes. “Sure, go ahead. But you realize Mobei-Jun’s going to lose immediately if you touch Wenying.” 

“Go ahead,” says Wenying, “It is not a fair contest as it is, since Peak Lord Shen is touching Yejian.”

Shang Qinghua smiles at her, and buries his fingers into the thick fur on the side of her neck. Immediately, there’s a loud thump from the direction of the battling demon lords. Shang Qinghua can’t help but snicker. 

“So,” says Shen Qingqiu, taking a sip of tea. “Have you set a date yet?” 

“A date?” Shang Qinghua asks, “For what?” 

“The wedding, obviously,” says Shen Qingqiu. “If you want Binghe and I to be there, you’ve got to send us an invitation soon, or we’ll have already made plans, and cancelling meetings is always a headache.” 

“R-Right!” Shang Qinghua wheezes, feeling faint. “Yes, we’ll, uh, get those out soon. Just as soon as, umm, we pick an auspicious date and all….”

“We will consider the matter. You will have a response from us quickly,” Wenying replies, cool as you please. Shang Qinghua gapes at her. But---no one’s even proposed yet?!

Shen Qingqiu shoots Shang Qinghua an incredibly smug look. “Good. I’ll look forward to hearing from you soon then.” 

Shang Qinghua very nearly strangles his best friend then and there. But well, he does end up with a very amorous Mobei-Jun and a stunning engagement ring that evening, so he supposes he’ll be merciful this time.