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The dragon that came to terrorize Cang Qiong Mountain was one of the most magnificent things Yue Qingyuan had ever seen.
Large and grand, with scales the color of the finest jade, his stark-white mane and whiskers flowing regally even in the absence of a breeze. Horns of a darker green, like the tea leaves for which the dragon was named, branched out from his head. As he towered over Yue Qingyuan, his long, serpentine body coiling into the sky, he glared down at him in a way that felt strangely familiar.
Shaking off the feeling, Yue Qingyuan projected his voice. “Wulong-Jun, I presume.”
Steam poured out of the dragon’s nostrils as he made an odd chuffing sound akin to an exasperated sigh. “That is what this lord is called, yes.”
His voice was loud and deep, rumbling through the air to surround Yue Qingyuan without the dragon even moving his mouth. And—yes, that was definitely exasperation in his tone. Did the demon not like his title? It seemed fitting, if a bit literal; he was indeed a great, dark dragon.1
“And may this master inquire as to Wulong-Jun’s purpose in approaching Cang Qiong Mountain Sect?”
The dragon bared its teeth—long, pearly-white, sharp enough to pierce through Yue Qingyuan’s ribs without a thought—in something akin to a sneer. “What purpose does a boot have in stepping on an ant in its path? The better question would be what Cang Qiong’s purpose is in sending one measly cultivator to try and stop me.”
“This master is the sect leader,” Yue Qingyuan said. “My name—”
“I know who you are, Yue Qingyuan.” Wulong-Jun’s sneer grew, and he moved, forgoing his massive height advantage to instead dip down and circle his long body around the field where Yue Qingyuan stood, effectively trapping him in. Yue Qingyuan looked on calmly, tracking the dragon’s head as best he could without turning on the spot. “You think just because you are a sect leader, because you hold the Xuan Su Sword, that you are any match for this lord?”
“This master had hoped to settle things peacefully. In recent years, human-demon relations have been—”
Wulong-Jun chuffed again—a derisive laugh this time. “What do I care for relations between lesser creatures? I want one thing and one thing only, Yue Qingyuan,” he spat his name like it was an insult. “I want the least of what is owed.”
The dragon was currently behind him, so Yue Qingyuan’s frown went unseen. He had never heard of Wulong-Jun until recently, when Mobei-Jun sensed his activity near the sect and reported it to Luo Binghe, who told Shen Qingqiu, who reported it to him. Afterwards, Yue Qingyuan did his research and learned about how the dragon demon had taken a mountain in the Demon Realm for his stronghold and terrorized a number of nearby clans in recent years. Said mountain was part of a range far enough west that it remained outside Luo Binghe’s still-growing sphere of influence.
And yet, despite never having heard of Wulong-Jun until recently, Yue Qingyuan couldn’t shake the feeling that something about him was familiar.
“If a slight was committed against Wulong-Jun,” he said, “this master confesses he is unsure what it was. If you are willing to explain so that I may give a proper apology and—”
“Useless apologies?” Wulong-Jun’s massive head was suddenly hovering directly in front of Yue Qingyuan, whose breath hitched. “You think a mere sorry should satisfy me? What soft-hearted demons you must have been dealing with until now.”
Yue Qingyuan’s throat worked for a moment before he said, “Perhaps another way to make it up to you, then, so this may be resolved peacefully—”
“Peacefully,” Wulong-Jun mocked. “That’s all you care about, isn’t it? Is that why you let two of your own subordinates sell themselves to demons? Is that why you’re poking your nose into my business? For peace?” He rose up, glaring down at him in that familiar way again. “You meddle too much, Yue Qingyuan.”
Yue Qingyuan’s lungs briefly failed him. He stared up in awe at the dragon towering above him, his mind warring with itself over what was logical and what wasn’t.
“And what if this lord’s demands are too steep?” Wulong-Jun started circling him again, and it was harder to resist the urge to turn in order to track him. Yue Qingyuan wanted to keep his eyes on him, wanted to examine him, wanted to make sure— “What if this lord demanded something you would never willingly give?”
Yue Qingyuan managed to find his voice. “Such as?”
That massive head suddenly appeared right in front of him again, smoke billowing from his nostrils and curling to surround Yue Qingyuan. “You.”
Before Yue Qingyuan could react—or even process that single word—large, jade-like talons closed completely around his body and scooped him up, and the two of them surged up high into the air much faster than taking off on a sword would allow. Yue Qingyuan’s own sword was still strapped to his back, within grasp if he just maneuvered a bit.
He made no move to do so.
Shen Jiu waited and waited, tense with anticipation, but Yue Qingyuan failed to make any move against him during the entire flight. He didn’t reach for his sword, didn’t try to blast him with qi, didn’t even struggle in his hold. He just sat there, curled in Shen Jiu’s talons as though he was perfectly content.
What nonsense. It was obviously a ruse—perhaps he wanted to catch sight of the demon’s lair so that he would know where exactly to return with an army once he fought his way free. Well, Shen Jiu wouldn’t allow him to escape. He was powerful now, much more so than he ever could have become in his weak human body.
According to the demoness clans who also resided in his mountain range, Shen Jiu popped into existence fully-formed atop the peak that was now his home. One moment, nothing. The next, a massive green dragon coiled around the mountain top. The harpies, who were able to fly up and investigate quickest, said that he was unresponsive at first—only rising to consciousness after shrinking down into a more humanoid form, and then immediately demanding some tea for his dry throat. The hyena demonesses, having just arrived on the scene, promptly fell over with laughter and declared this strange new demon should be called Wulong-Jun.
Shen Jiu disdained the cheap name, but it stuck. He hardly even remembered that initial encounter with the coalition of demoness clans who would later have the gall to declare him their bodyguard—claiming that since he spawned on their mountain range, it was his duty. What he did remember, though, was his previous life before his…reincarnation, if it could be called that.
Most especially, he remembered Yue Qingyuan.
Yue Qingyuan who was still alive, still sect leader. Who had accepted an imposter into Shen Jiu’s body and allowed him to completely ruin his reputation. Yes, Shen Jiu had heard the ballads and read the books—and then promptly burned them. He knew well how thoroughly that beast and the imposter had defiled his former body, and he wanted nothing more to do with it. Not the body, nor the name ‘Shen Qingqiu.’ Wulong-Jun was much more preferable, insipid though it may be.
Angry as he was, at first Shen Jiu did nothing about it. He had a new life now, after all, and a new form that properly fit his monstrous heart. He was determined to wash his hands of his past and of human affairs altogether, preferring instead to stick close to his mountain and to the demonesses towards whom he grew reluctantly fond. The harpies were irritating, the hyena demonesses were absurd, the lioness clan was constantly falling into territory disputes with the others, and the flower spirits—well, they were fine, actually. A few of them reminded him of the women at the Warm Red Pavilion, in fact.
They were all ridiculous, but they relied on Shen Jiu and looked up to him. They seemed to like him, even, in all his scathing words and his habit of literally kicking them out of his den when he decided a visit had concluded. And in this form, he was powerful enough that it was child’s play to keep unwanted intruders away from their shared mountain range. With human nonsense pushed far from his attention, Shen Jiu managed a few years of calm in this new life of his. He hesitated to call it happy, but it was calm. Peaceful.
And then word trickled through the grapevine about Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun’s marriage.
The beast and the imposter were one thing—clearly, they were both insane. But this? Shen Jiu had never been fond of that squirrelly former-shidi of his, but he didn’t realize Shang Qinghua was so depraved. And what was Mobei-Jun thinking? Since the Beast Emperor had married the second-ranked peak lord, naturally his subordinate couldn’t dare marry higher, but the leader of the Mobei Clan ought to do better than An Ding. Even one of the lower peaks would have been a more fitting match.
Was this what the world had come to? Were cultivators and demons going to start forming bastardized unions all over the place now?
Was Yue Qingyuan planning to form one of his own?
The mere thought sent Shen Jiu into a frenzy that resulted in him accidentally decimating the group of bull demons that were harassing the flower spirits. Not that he particularly minded. Good riddance.
Afterwards, he set out for Cang Qiong Mountain, disguising his form to look fully human so he could sneak around and properly investigate. He didn’t bother hiding his demonic qi—there were apparently demons crawling all over the mountain now, so what was one more? Through his efforts he discovered that, luckily, it seemed there were no such arranged marriage alliances in store for Sect Leader Yue.
Yet.
It seemed only a matter of time, with Yue Qingyuan as high of a commodity as he must be. However, the two most prominent and well-known members of the demon race were already spoken for and were uninterested in further spouses. Who would he even marry? Some lesser lord? The disgraced Tianlang-Jun?
Shen Jiu would sooner raze the mountain to the ground than see that happen.
He was circling a secluded valley near Cang Qiong, debating whether or not to do just that, when he sensed a nearby presence: Yue Qingyuan, the idiot, approaching a powerful dragon demon alone.
And then, well, Shen Jiu remembered he had another option at his disposal.
Bridenapping was something he had long known about due to his studies on demons back when he was a human. There were too few prominent dragon demons to determine whether the practice was common among them, but it wasn’t unheard of. Were he still a human, Shen Jiu might balk in disgust at the idea of such a tradition.
But Shen Jiu wasn’t a human anymore.
They arrived at the mountain that housed his den. Shen Jiu ignored the greetings from the harpies he flew past, talons curling further around Yue Qingyuan to hide him from their sight. Everyone knew better than to saunter into his den without permission, so he breathed a bit easier once safe inside his wards.
Now, surely, Yue Qingyuan would make his move and try to free himself from the demon’s clutches. Curious to see what he might try, Shen Jiu dropped him in the middle of his den and encircled the wide space with his body.
Yue Qingyuan, who had landed in a heap, carefully picked himself up and dusted off his robes before turning to take in the space around him. Obviously, Shen Jiu’s den was large enough to house his full dragon form, but like this he was inadvertently blocking most of his decor and the pieces of furniture he used in his humanoid form, hiding them all from Yue Qingyuan’s sight. For all he knew, they were in a more or less simple cave.
Still, Yue Qingyuan faced Shen Jiu again and dipped his head. “Wulong-Jun has a lovely home.”
Shen Jiu chuffed derisively. Then waited. Yue Qingyuan just stood there, smiling placidly, occasionally breaking eye contact to look around again.
Was he broken? Why wasn’t he taking the chance to escape?
Perhaps, Shen Jiu thought, Yue Qingyuan knew he was no match for a great dragon demon and was afraid to try. The thought simultaneously pleased and irritated him. Even if there was no chance, shouldn’t Yue Qingyuan still try?
“Well?” Shen Jiu pressed.
A blink. “Well what?”
“Yue Qingyuan, you have been bridenapped.”
Yue Qingyuan’s smile seemed to grow, oddly enough. “Yes.”
Shen Jiu’s whiskers twitched irritably. Did he have to spell it out for him? “In a bridenapping, the bride is traditionally supposed to try and escape.”
“Ah.” Yue Qingyuan thought for a moment. “Such is a tradition for those who wish to fight against the bridenapping, or for demons with the instinctive desire to show their strength through escape attempts. Seeing as this master is not a demon, he has no such instinct.”
“Don’t you wish to fight against the bridenapping?”
If he didn’t know better, Shen Jiu would think Yue Qingyuan’s smile softened. “Not particularly.”
“Idiot.” Shen Jiu dipped down to his eye-level. “You would just let a demon disgrace you like this? You won’t even try to fight back?” He circled around him so he could move his head over Yue Qingyuan’s shoulder from behind, noting how he tensed at the proximity. “Would you toothlessly submit and let this lord do whatever he wished?”
Yue Qingyuan’s breath hitched. “Would it…please Wulong-Jun more if this master were to fight back?”
For a moment, Shen Jiu was speechless.
And then he snapped.
He snatched Yue Qingyuan up again, surging through his den to toss him onto the bed of soft furs and cushions. Yue Qingyuan landed face-down with a grunt, automatically moving to push himself up before Shen Jiu held him down with a single claw. With another foot, he plucked Xuan Su off of his back and tossed it away, sending it skittering across the stone floor—still close enough that Yue Qingyuan could command it using qi, in case he came to his senses and decided to try to put up a fight. Shen Jiu would enjoy smacking him down if he did.
Yue Qingyuan’s head snapped around to track the location of his sword, but he made no move to do anything more, instead relaxing once it came to a stop across the room.
With Yue Qingyuan face-down and unable to see him, Shen Jiu took the opportunity to shift into his humanoid form. With a lot of work, he was capable of passing as fully human, but he usually didn’t bother, instead settling into something in between. His horns stayed, though they shrunk to fit his form, and a smattering of small, jade green scales speckled his cheeks and other parts of his body not unlike freckles. His hair stayed white, his teeth pointed in fangs, his eyes were an off-putting green, his fingers ended in dark claws. Even in a more human form, Shen Jiu’s monstrosity was obvious.
He looked nothing like the starving and beaten Xiao-Jiu, nor the immortal master Shen Qingqiu. Even his robes were more in line with demon sensibilities. Any human outside of Huan Hua Palace would probably call them gaudy, but Shen Jiu found that he liked the excessive detailing in the embroidery and beading and—surprisingly—the fact that they were nowhere near as modest as the Qing Jing Peak Lord robes.
Shen Jiu leaned close, his lips right near Yue Qingyuan’s ear. “Would it please me more? Is this what has become of the great Sect Leader Yue? I always knew you were a sycophant, but this is absurd.”
Yue Qingyuan pressed his forehead into the furs beneath him, taking a breath. “This one meant no offense towards his…captor.”
Shen Jiu bared his teeth in a sneer. “That’ll be husband by the time the night is up.”
A gasp. Shen Jiu flipped Yue Qingyuan onto his back so that he could properly see his disgust, but the look in Yue Qingyuan’s dark eyes as they fixed on him was…not that.
He took in Shen Jiu’s form almost ravenously, scanning his face and his figure like he was a man in the desert and Shen Jiu’s visage was the only source of water. His gaze lingered on his horns, his claws, the spot where Shen Jiu’s robes didn’t fully cover his chest, before darting away. Clearly, he was off-put by the sight of him, but still made no move to resist.
Was Yue Qingyuan perhaps…?
“Oh, is that it?” Shen Jiu’s voice was silky as he climbed atop him and pinned his wrists on either side of his head. “A powerful man who likes to be made powerless. I had no idea Sect Leader Yue had such perversions. You’ll soon realize how you’ve dug yourself too deep, but by then it will be too late.” He leaned in close, watching Yue Qingyuan’s pupils dilate as he moved. “You’re mine now, Yue Qingyuan. Body, heart, and soul. I will drink my fill of you and discard you if I wish, or keep you as a pet to satiate my needs.”
Yue Qingyuan’s eyes widened. Shen Jiu sat back to look down his nose at him. “Do you understand, Yue Qingyuan? Don’t you wish to try and escape now?”
For a few moments, Yue Qingyuan just stared up at him, throat working ineffectively. Then, “If it’s you…then I could never wish to be parted.”
Shen Jiu didn’t know what to make of that. He snarled and dug his claws into the skin of Yue Qingyuan’s wrists. “Even if you did try to fight back, your little toothpick can hardly do much here, in my domain. It’s just as well you’re too impotent to try.”
A shift to reposition himself, and then Shen Jiu felt something beneath him. He glanced down. “Not so impotent, it would seem.”
Yue Qingyuan’s gaze skirted away with a blush.
“You really are depraved,” Shen Jiu mused, tracing a claw along the lapels of Yue Qingyuan’s robes. “Who would have imagined that the esteemed sect leader of Cang Qiong was so obscene? Have you been secretly fantasizing about this, about some terrible, powerful monster whisking you off to have his wicked way with you?”
Gaze still averted, Yue Qingyuan wet his lips but said nothing.
“Look at me. Answer.”
He immediately obeyed both commands, eyes snapping to Shen Jiu’s. “Not…Not exactly.”
“Not exactly,” Shen Jiu echoed. His claw hooked under all the layers of Yue Qingyuan’s robes before dragging down, slicing clean through them like a knife through tofu. He pushed them apart to expose Yue Qingyuan’s ample chest, staring down with some confusion at the litany of faded scars. They marred his torso and likely spanned his limbs as well, though those were still clothed.
Shen Jiu had been dead for around a decade—who knew what ridiculous battles Yue Qingyuan got himself caught up in during that time. Still, the sight scraped at his demonic instincts. How dare Yue Qingyuan bear marks that had nothing to do with him? Didn’t Shen Jiu just say that his entire body belonged to him, and yet he had the gall to present it in this state?
No matter. That could be corrected.
“These,” Shen Jiu placed his claws over a few scars and applied pressure, drawing blood, “will be done away with.”
Yue Qingyuan, who hadn’t so much as twitched in pain, startled. “They’re—”
“I don’t care where they came from.” Shen Jiu leaned in again, nearly nose-to-nose to trap his gaze. “Whatever fool reason you had for gaining these scars should be discarded from your mind. You’re mine now, so the only marks you bear from now on will be the ones I give you. Understand?”
Yue Qingyuan’s breath shuddered harshly. “Yes. Yours.”
Shen Jiu kissed him.
It was a harsh, biting thing, half-motivated by Shen Jiu’s desire to see him bleed even here. Yue Qingyuan met him willingly, gasping into his mouth and kissing back with clumsy enthusiasm. Even though Shen Jiu was no longer pinning them down, his hands stayed obediently by his head, occasionally flexing or closing into fists as Shen Jiu defiled his mouth.
Shen Jiu pulled back, noting with a surge of possessive pride how bruised-red Yue Qingyuan’s lips were, a spot of blood welling from one corner. He dipped down to lave his tongue over that spot, and Yue Qingyuan shuddered underneath him with a stifled noise.
Did he…?
Shen Jiu sat up and glanced back, but—no, Yue Qingyuan’s pants were still tented, and the fluid staining them was…not excessive. Still, it made Shen Jiu curious to test just how far Yue Qingyuan’s depravity went. He leaned in again, taking Yue Qingyuan’s bottom lip between his teeth and biting down. Yue Qingyuan groaned, hands tightening into white-knuckled fists, and Shen Jiu felt the urge to bite him elsewhere as well.
He did just that, moving lower down to take as much of Yue Qingyuan’s chest between his teeth as he could, biting down hard enough to pierce the skin over his heart and fill his mouth with the taste of blood. Mine, he thought, as Yue Qingyuan spasmed beneath him with a pathetic noise. This time, when he looked back, the tent in Yue Qingyuan’s pants—which were now very stained—was shrinking.
Shen Jiu sneered. “Did you come from that?”
Still catching his breath, Yue Qingyuan said, “My apologies.”
“You really are depraved.” Shen Jiu dismounted and yanked off Yue Qingyuan’s pants, tossing the filth away from his nest. Even soft, Yue Qingyuan was rather large for a human. Shen Jiu might have balked at it back in the day, but considering the intricacies of his current body…there really was no comparison.
Shen Jiu stared down at the man beneath him. He looked so pliant right now, flushed and dazed from orgasm and staring up at Shen Jiu with unfocused, pupil-blown eyes.
There was just so much he could do, so many ways he could ruin him. Shen Jiu went ahead and shredded Yue Qingyuan’s robes—both to get them out of the way without having to move Yue Qingyuan’s arms, and because he was getting sick of seeing Cang Qiong robes. Yue Qingyuan made no protest to his nice robes being unceremoniously shredded, nor did he seem uncomfortable with being completely bare before Shen Jiu. A bit bashful, if anything.
Shen Jiu’s gaze lingered on where he’d bitten Yue Qingyuan’s chest, the wound still bleeding despite the fact that it should have closed up by now. The sight of it, the memory of the taste of his blood, gave Shen Jiu an idea.
“Sit up,” he commanded, reaching over to a bedside table where an extravagant tea set rested—one that Yue Qingyuan had gifted him back when he was a human, in fact, though there were so many gifts that Yue Qingyuan surely didn’t remember any specific one. Shen Jiu had relieved Qing Jing of a few of them during a…reconnaissance trip.
Yue Qingyuan obediently sat up, eyes widening as Shen Jiu pressed one of the gold-rimmed cups under his wound and squeezed at his chest with his other hand to encourage the blood flow. It wasn’t the ideal spot to do this, messy as it was, not to mention that the way Shen Jiu squeezed his chest almost looked like…
In any case, he only needed a bit of blood, so it was fine. Shen Jiu set the cup back down and picked up another one, this time lifting his own arm to his mouth and biting down. Yue Qingyuan startled and lifted a hand as though to stop him, but was quelled with a glare. Shen Jiu easily sealed his own wound and shoved the cup into Yue Qingyuan’s hands, then picked up the first one. Yue Qingyuan just stared uncomprehendingly until Shen Jiu huffed and crossed their arms, and then he went rigid.
“What?” Shen Jiu snapped. “I told you, this is a bridenapping. Or did you think I was bluffing?”
“No, I—” Yue Qingyuan looked like a fish with how his mouth opened and closed. He took a breath to steady himself, then lifted the cup to his lips and paused, watching Shen Jiu. His hand trembled.
Satisfaction bloomed in Shen Jiu’s stomach. It seemed Yue Qingyuan was finally starting to understand the situation, how thoroughly Shen Jiu would own him by the time the sun rose tomorrow. Yet he still didn’t fight. He just watched, waiting for Shen Jiu’s cue. Did he truly think Shen Jiu was bluffing, or…?
Gritting his teeth, Shen Jiu lifted his own cup and drank Yue Qingyuan’s blood without letting himself think further. When he lowered it, he was greeted by the sight of Yue Qingyuan with his cup tilted far back, as though he was trying to drain every last drop of Shen Jiu’s blood.
…Perhaps there really was something wrong with his head.
Shen Jiu snatched the cup from him. “Stop that, you’ve had enough.”
Yue Qingyuan looked dazed as he licked his lips. “I thought I needed to drink all of it.”
“It’s a ritual, not medicine.”
“Ah.” Yue Qingyuan nodded. “Wulong-Jun is correct.”
Something in Shen Jiu’s stomach jolted in realization; after what they just did, there was something else he could demand Yue Qingyuan call him. “That’s husband, now.”
Yue Qingyuan’s eyes widened almost comically, and Shen Jiu once again expected protest. Instead, he swallowed thickly and let out a pitiful, blushing, “Husband.”
Shen Jiu sucked in a breath, then tackled him down onto the bed again, kissing him harshly. He could taste his own blood in Yue Qingyuan’s mouth as he licked into him, and that only made him more ravenous. He pinned Yue Qingyuan’s hands above his head in a silent command to keep them there, and then his claws dug into Yue Qingyuan’s scalp, shoulders, ribs as they roamed his body. He pulled back to nip at his neck in various spots, watching bruises and tiny dots of red bloom.
“Say it again.”
Yue Qingyuan’s breath shuddered. “Husband.”
Shen Jiu bit him again, this time on the collarbone. Then again, and again, each time in a different place, and each time eliciting a noise from Yue Qingyuan that didn’t sound at all like pain and suffering.
Once he’d had his fill for now, Shen Jiu sat back to observe his handiwork. As he’d suspected, those old, faded scars did indeed spread to Yue Qingyuan’s arms and legs, and the way they muddled Shen Jiu’s own marks irked him. He wanted them gone now, wanted Yue Qingyuan’s body wiped clean so he could redecorate it in his own image.
Well, that made it easy to decide what to do next.
Shen Jiu shoved at Yue Qingyuan’s legs until they were properly bent and spread so he could get between them. He considered not preparing Yue Qingyuan at all, wondering if maybe that would break him out of this pliancy, but the flower spirits had once gifted him a vial that was definitely full of lubricant, tittering behind their hands all the while, and he figured he may as well put it to use.
Yue Qingyuan’s gaze stayed fixed on his face while Shen Jiu pulled out the vial and slicked up his fingers, not even noticing what Shen Jiu was doing until one of those fingers pressed against him, and he jolted.
“Stay still,” Shen Jiu said.
Yue Qingyuan opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it and finally averted his gaze. Shen Jiu had been irritated by the staring, but now he was irritated that Yue Qingyuan stopped. He bared his teeth. “Reconsidering your earlier words now that you understand what’s going to happen? Do you wish to try and draw your sword against me now?”
“No,” came Yue Qingyuan’s too-quick answer. “No, I— Never.”
“Never?” Shen Jiu arched a brow. “You should know better than to make promises you can’t keep.”
Yue Qingyuan’s eyes widened, and Shen Jiu chose that moment to shove his finger inside him. His body was warm, but far too tight; it probably wouldn’t have been pleasant at all to try and do this with no preparation. Yue Qingyuan stiffened, sucking air through his teeth at the feeling, but his hands stayed where they were. For a moment, Shen Jiu wondered if perhaps there really was no limit to what Yue Qingyuan would allow.
Then again, they had only just gotten started.
Shen Jiu worked his finger in and out, snapping at him to relax. And Yue Qingyuan did—surprisingly quickly, in fact. In no time at all, Shen Jiu was able to fit in a second finger, and he frowned. He shouldn’t complain about the process not being dragged out, but this seemed…odd.
Then, he felt something even more strange. Like he could sense what was going on in Yue Qingyuan’s body. Not in a direct way—he couldn’t feel what Yue Qingyuan felt—but on some level he could just tell that there was something odd about this lubricant. It was affecting Yue Qingyuan, relaxing his muscles.
Pausing his movements, Shen Jiu closed his eyes and focused. When Yue Qingyuan made a questioning noise, he told him to shut up. He tried to follow that sense-knowledge, to pinpoint its source. Eventually, he found himself in the coursing veins of Yue Qingyuan’s body.
It was his own blood, running alongside Yue Qingyuan’s and spreading throughout every inch of him.
Shen Jiu opened his eyes with more questions than answers. Only one type of demon should have that ability, after all. He set that aside for now, though, much more interested in what this meant for the current moment.
He had claimed Yue Qingyuan even more than he’d realized by making him drink his blood. More than that, he could use this; heal those damn scars in this way, make Yue Qingyuan experience pain, pleasure, anything. Possibly control him, even, once Shen Jiu figured that out. He silently cursed the fact that he hadn’t known about this ability before and therefore didn’t have any skill with it, but no matter. Shen Jiu would learn, and there was no time like the present.
He sent the blood in Yue Qingyuan’s body south, concentrating it in the area around his fingers as he moved them again. Yue Qingyuan jolted at the feeling of it warming his muscles and relaxing them further, and he squirmed. “What—”
“Stay still,” Shen Jiu snapped.
“Mm, I don’t—” Yue Qingyuan tried to obey, but his hips kept twitching. “It feels…”
Shen Jiu waited for the end of that sentence. Bad? Strange? Horrifying?
“Good,” Yue Qingyuan gasped. “It—feels good. I-I can’t—”
Belatedly, Shen Jiu realized that Yue Qingyuan was fully hard again and leaking, and irritation swept over him. Did really he have the gall to come a second time before Shen Jiu could take him?
An idea occurred to him, and he focused on his blood again. Soon enough, he watched with rapt fascination as Yue Qingyuan’s erection wilted and softened. Yue Qingyuan made a pitiful noise, hips bucking instinctively, but his cock laid unresponsive even after a few more testing thrusts of Shen Jiu’s fingers.
Shen Jiu sneered down at him. “Did you think we were here for your pleasure?” He pulled out his fingers and wiped them off on the shreds of Yue Qingyuan’s robes. “From now on, you’ll only be allowed to come if I will it. Now roll over.”
Eyes wide, Yue Qingyuan hastened to obey, flipping over onto his stomach before propping himself up on his knees and elbows. Shen Jiu took a breath, then started disrobing. He made quick work of his robes without shredding them like he did Yue Qingyuan’s, casting aside his pants before taking his cock in hand—one of his cocks, that is. As was apparently normal for dragon demons, Shen Jiu had two of them, and each was easily as big as Yue Qingyuan’s. That had taken some getting used to.
Shen Jiu lined up his upper cock and pushed in, consciously easing the way by relaxing Yue Qingyuan’s body with his blood. He was warm and slick inside, and Shen Jiu’s jaw gradually lowered as that feeling surrounded him. His lower cock slid below, rubbing against where Yue Qingyuan was still soft, and Yue Qingyuan twitched at the feeling. For a moment, it seemed like he would turn to look back, so Shen Jiu gripped his hips tight enough to pierce them with his claws and shoved himself the rest of the way in.
Yue Qingyuan cried out, hands gripping the furs above his head. But when he moved, it was to rock his hips back against Shen Jiu in a silent plea for more.
Enthralled by the heat around him and by Yue Qingyuan’s eagerness, Shen Jiu could do nothing but deliver, thrusting into him again and again. He had kidnapped Yue Qingyuan, stolen the great sect leader from his home, married him in the demonic fashion and filled him with his blood. He had utterly ruined the man below him in a way that would have once disgusted Shen Jiu, but now there was nothing but pride and possessiveness coursing through him. He chased that feeling, chased the warmth of Yue Qingyuan’s body over and over.
Yue Qingyuan writhed beneath him, clumsily trying to fuck himself back on Shen Jiu in a way that didn’t match his rhythm. Small noises escaped him, little whimpers of please and Husband that made Shen Jiu’s body burn.
His. Yue Qingyuan was his, and no one else’s. Shen Jiu had already claimed him from the inside out, and yet he craved more. He wanted to mark Yue Qingyuan as his in every way possible, to remake him in his image.
In fact, he could very well do that.
They were only a step away from dual cultivation, so it was easy for Shen Jiu to send his qi through Yue Qingyuan’s body. What he found surprised him; Yue Qingyuan’s spiritual veins weren’t snarled and tangled, but there was something wrong with them all the same. His qi burned hot and blazed through him, running so rampant that it was a shock he was conscious, much less capable of taking action the way he was right now.
It was like he was undergoing a constant, barely-controlled qi deviation.
At first, Shen Jiu wondered if this was the reason why Yue Qingyuan had been acting so oddly all day, but the more he probed, the more it became obvious that it was a long-established thing. Yue Qingyuan’s cultivation was practically built around it.
This idiot. Yue Qingyuan had always been impulsive, so it was no surprise that he must have made some bullheaded decision early on in his training so that he ended up like this. And then kept it hidden, too, even from him when he’d been Shen Qingqiu.
All for what? Pride?
Shen Jiu would rip every last bit of pride away from him.
With the claws of one hand still digging into Yue Qingyuan’s hip, Shen Jiu reached around with the other to grasp him by the throat and haul him up, his back pressed to Shen Jiu’s chest as he kept fucking into him. Yue Qingyuan only tilted his head back to bare his throat further, welcoming the harsh grip. Given his lack of practice in using his blood, Shen Jiu had lost his grip on it, so Yue Qingyuan was once again hard against him as their cocks rubbed together.
Shen Jiu leaned in close to his ear. “You call yourself an immortal master, with cultivation like this?”
Yue Qingyuan’s eyes snapped open.
“The mighty Xuan Su Sword,” Shen Jiu said. “Hiding the disgrace of his failures. Were you embarrassed? Ashamed?”
“I—” Yue Qingyuan blinked rapidly. “Yes.”
“Worried what everyone would think?”
“N-No, I just—” Yue Qingyuan gasped and squeezed his eyes shut, and a single tear ran down his cheek. “I’m sorry.”
Shen Jiu’s pace slowed. Did Yue Qingyuan really love the sound of his own apologies so much that he’d even say them now? Like this?
He shoved Yue Qingyuan back down, curling over his body and sinking his fangs into his shoulder before pulling back to say, “If I ever hear one more worthless apology from you, I’ll kill you on the spot,” he said. “Understand?”
Yue Qingyuan let out a vaguely affirmative whine.
“You should consider yourself lucky.” Shen Jiu bit his other shoulder. “Your new husband would never allow himself to be associated with such shoddy cultivation, so he’ll be correcting your mistakes.”
Yue Qingyuan gasped, head turning to the side as he tried to catch a glimpse of Shen Jiu out of the corner of his eye. “You’re going to—?”
“Dual cultivation with a demon can have many benefits.” Shen Jiu snapped his hips particularly hard, then pulled out entirely so he could flip Yue Qingyuan onto his back. He wanted to see the look on his face when his cultivation was rewritten by a demon. “Especially one like me.”
Yue Qingyuan stared up at him in something that could almost be described as awe. His lashes flickered as Shen Jiu slid back in; in this position, he had to swap which cock went in him, which was just as well. Shen Jiu tucked one hand in the crook of Yue Qingyuan’s knee to bend him as much as he could, bringing up the other to curl around where both of their cocks were sliding together.
“Everything you are belongs to me now,” Shen Jiu said. “From now on, everything you accomplish, every feat of cultivation, every bit of ingratiating praise some rat gives you will be because of me. You’re mine, wholly and irreversibly.”
“Yes.” Yue Qingyuan’s dark gaze was trained on him. “Yes, yours— Ah—”
His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut and mouth open on a silent cry as he came, spilling onto Shen Jiu’s hand and cock. Shen Jiu gritted his teeth around a curse as he followed him, his qi surging through Yue Qingyuan along with his seed to join his blood, so much of him filling this man who had once seemed so out of his reach.
His forehead was resting against Yue Qingyuan’s chest when he came back to himself, and Shen Jiu took a few moments to steady his breathing. With the countless ways they were now connected, it was easy to do a quick check of Yue Qingyuan’s qi. His cultivation wasn’t completely reworked, not yet; it would have been quite a feat to accomplish such a thing in only one session. When he pulled back, it was to find Yue Qingyuan’s skin smooth and unblemished. It seemed he’d accidentally healed his marks along with those old scars.
No matter. Both of these things only gave him all the more reason to grab the half-asleep Yue Qingyuan by the jaw and force him back to wakefulness to say, “Did you think I’d be done with you so quickly?”
Yue Qingyuan gave him a dazed, soft smile. “This one is here to serve his husband as many times as he wishes.”
Yue Qingyuan woke up surrounded by soft, buttery scales, warm as they cradled him. He felt better than he had since…ever, actually. In his entire life, he had never felt like this. His scars didn’t smart, his qi didn’t burn, his heart didn’t ache. Certain other parts did ache, but it was the pleasant sort. A reminder that everything that happened was real. But everything else was…fixed, to put it simply. He was hale and healthy in a way he didn’t think he had ever once been. True to his word, Shen Jiu had thoroughly remade Yue Qingyuan, filling his heart along with it.
How this dragon demon could be Shen Jiu, he had no idea. But Yue Qingyuan knew in his very bones that this was the same soul, just like he now understood why something had always felt off about Shen Qingqiu ever since his ‘memory loss.’ There were going to be many difficult conversations in the near future, but for now Yue Qingyuan was content to continue resting in Shen Jiu’s embrace. In his husband’s embrace. The mere thought of what they now were to each other, of how thoroughly Shen Jiu had laid his claim on him, made Yue Qingyuan feel silly and giddy the way he’d witnessed many a teenage disciple act regarding a crush.
After their fifth round, even Shen Jiu had been tired, and apparently his massive dragon form was easier to maintain when low on energy, so he’d shifted back and promptly wound himself around Yue Qingyuan before falling asleep. Yue Qingyuan, for his part, was perfectly happy to be surrounded by him like this. To have the immediate reminder after waking up that Shen Jiu was here.
Just as he was about to drift off again, Yue Qingyuan sensed a powerful, familiar presence approaching the den. At the same time, Shen Jiu’s massive head lifted, smoke pouring from his nostrils as he chuffed in irritation.
It seemed at least one difficult conversation would be happening sooner than preferred.
“Ah.” Yue Qingyuan regretfully peeled himself out of the mass of scales surrounding him. “Husband, please allow this one to handle this. Husband shouldn’t have to go through the trouble.”
That same silly thrill ran through him every time he got to say husband.
Shen Jiu eyed him, then lazily lifted the tip of his tail to flick it towards a wardrobe across the way. “Borrow something from there. No one else gets to see you in such a state.”
Yue Qingyuan bowed politely. “Thank you, Husband,” he said, before turning towards the wardrobe.
The contents surprised him.
Even in this new life, Shen Jiu clearly still preferred green. The coloring of his dragon form aside, every layer of the robes he’d worn yesterday had been some shade of green, as were a vast majority of the ones in the wardrobe.
However, a few were black.
They were set aside from the other robes, distinct. The style, as well, was nothing like the…immodest one that Shen Jiu now seemed to prefer. In many ways, they were a near replica of Yue Qingyuan’s official robes. However, the fabric was a higher quality than even a sect leader’s robes, the black darker and richer, the silver embroidery brighter.
The most distinct difference, of course, was the fact that the silver embroidery was also threaded with green, and the pattern depicted mighty dragons along the hems and lapels.
Yue Qingyuan’s breath caught. These couldn’t be for him, could they? But at the same time, what other explanation was there, after last night’s events?
He had so many questions, but they would have to wait. The longer he delayed, the more likely that the person outside would try to break past Shen Jiu’s wards, and that would be a whole mess. Best to cut things off at the pass.
Yue Qingyuan dressed as quickly as he could and smoothed down his hair on the way to the den’s entrance, feeling Shen Jiu’s faux-lazy gaze on him the entire time. After a few turns down the cave’s natural hallway, he was no longer in Shen Jiu’s line of sight, though he could surely still hear.
He found Luo Binghe pacing in front of the cave’s entrance with a thoughtful frown on his face. When he sensed him, Luo Binghe stopped. “Sect Leader Yue,” he said, forgoing the ‘Zhangmen-shibo’ he only ever used in front of Shen Qingqiu. “Shizun sent me to—”
He stopped. Scanned over Yue Qingyuan’s form. His nostrils flared as if scenting the air, and then he cleared his throat. “…to see if you required any…assistance.”
Yue Qingyuan kept his expression calm. Now that he knew the truth, his feelings regarding ‘Shen Qingqiu’ were…more complicated, to say the least. He probably needed time to process, and definitely needed to thoroughly interrogate him sometime soon. But for now, he put on a polite smile. “This master is doing quite well, and requires no assistance.”
Luo Binghe nodded stiffly, gaze flicking to the cave’s entrance.
Something flared in Yue Qingyuan’s chest, and his smile took on a few too many teeth as words spilled out of his mouth without any forethought, “Lord Luo would do well to bear in mind that if he so much as looks at Xiao-Jiu wrong, I’ll kill both you and my imposter shidi.”
Luo Binghe stiffened, looking for a moment like he might give a retort, so Yue Qingyuan flared his qi for good measure. Before, it was difficult to say which of the two of them was stronger, but now that Shen Jiu had so assiduously repaired Yue Qingyuan’s cultivation…
He was quite sure he could give Luo Binghe much more of a fight than the latter was prepared for.
Luo Binghe’s expression shifted a few times before landing on something like cold respect. He dipped his head. “As Sect Leader Yue says. Seeing as this lord’s aid is not needed, he’ll be taking his leave.”
He did just that, turning and heading off. Yue Qingyuan watched as he stepped on his sword and took off, waiting until he was no longer even a speck in the distance before turning around to head back inside.
He found Shen Jiu in his human form, fully dressed and standing by the bed with his arms crossed, expression dubious.
Yue Qingyuan faltered. Had he done something wrong? Perhaps he shouldn’t have stepped in to stop Shen Jiu from defending his own territory, but Shen Jiu also could have said no.
His mouth automatically opened on an apology before remembering himself. For lack of anything else, he said, “Things should be fine for the time being, but, ah, if Husband is amenable, it would be best if I show my face at the sect within a week so everyone knows I’m perfectly well.”
Shen Jiu’s expression spasmed before settling on a scowl. “What was that?”
Ah. So he had done something wrong. “Cang Qiong has an alliance with Emperor Luo. I thought it would be more prudent if I were to handle—”
“Not that.” Shen Jiu strode right up to him and caught his jaw in a harsh grip. They were standing face-to-face for the first time, and Yue Qingyuan took a moment to appreciate that like this, they were of a height with each other. Shen Jiu might even be a bit taller. That grip tightened, and Shen Jiu bared his fangs. “What did you call me?”
Yue Qingyuan’s stomach dropped. “I didn’t— I didn’t realize, it—slipped out. You don’t like to be called that, I know, I’m s—” He bit down on the apology.
Shen Jiu’s eyes were wild as they scanned his face. “You knew?”
Haltingly, since his jaw was being held, Yue Qingyuan nodded.
“The whole time?”
Another nod.
Shen Jiu released him, taking a step back. He looked almost…horrified. “You knew, and you still…” He shook his head. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Yue Qingyuan didn’t consider himself a particularly bold man. Perhaps once, back when said boldness was accompanied by an impulsivity that cost him everything, but he had strangled down any such behavior since then. Despite this, the events of last night emboldened him to reach out and take Shen Jiu’s hand, to stop him from putting any more distance between them. He couldn’t bear letting that happen again; they had already wasted so much time.
“I already told you,” he said. “If it’s you…then I could never wish to be parted.”
For a moment, Shen Jiu just stared at him. Then, his grip on Yue Qingyuan tightened, and he flung him onto the bed.
Yue Qingyuan went willingly.