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Chapter Text

It was funny how quickly things could change in such a short amount of time. Not very long ago at all, he'd been so sure that his king was only waiting for him to outlive his usefulness, doing his best to push that date further and further back. Even after his bro had eloped with his protagonist son and fucked off into the sunset on their seemingly everlasting honeymoon, things had stayed so rough between Mobei-Jun and himself. Especially after the ascension ceremony.

But then his king's uncle had tried to kill him, and his king had actually come to save him. Even after saying he never wanted to see him again. He'd saved him, let him hit back (not that he'd been able to bring himself to!), asked what he wanted in order to stay. Mobei-Jun wanted him to stay. Enough that he'd promised to cook for him and pulled him in an old broken-down cart all the way to an inn to rest.

So, after all that change, all that fuss about Shang Qinghua leaving him, he wanted to know one thing.

Where the hell was his king?!

Once they'd gotten settled at the inn and the local doctor (a very nervous old man, though that could have been because of the glaring demon in the room) had seen to his leg, Mobei had insisted that he get some sleep to heal faster. Turned out, it was so he could slip away as soon as the author closed his eyes, because by the time he woke up, he was alone in the room.

"You throw a huge fit about me running off, and then you do the same thing as soon as I look away?" he blurted to the empty room. "What the hell?"

Why did his king have to be such an utter brat?!

He could hear footsteps in the hallway outside his room, so he bit his cheek to stay silent as he swung his legs out from under the blanket. If Mobei was just going to leave without warning, then why shouldn't he? It wasn't as if the demon wouldn't be able to find him again, considering the spell he'd scratched into one of his wrist guards. Not technically a tracking spell, but it did make for a beacon that he could find him with. Even if he didn't call out for him. Shang Qinghua had been a little reluctant about the idea, but maybe it could be worth it just for the way that his king's shoulders had relaxed a fraction.

And that still didn't make up for just up and leaving him there!

So, leg in agony as he slowly put weight on it, Shang Qinghua began to push himself up onto his feet. Just in time for the door to his room to slide open with a snap.

"Shang-shixiong, get back on that bed immediately."

Erk-! So familiar with that tone, he was back on the bed with the blanket drawn up even before he realized just who the voice belonged to. And, by extension, who was standing in the doorway.

Mu Qingfang stared at him flatly, that expression of mild disappointment he used whenever someone was being foolish with their health right in front of him fixed on his face. Honestly, it was an expression that he used quite often when it came to his most troublesome martial siblings, the list of which very much including one Shang Qingfang who'd needed dragging to Qian Cao Peak more than a few times amid protests that he was fine no matter what condition he was actually in.

"Mu-shidi... am I hallucinating or are you really here?" Shang Qinghua asked slowly, staring at the sect's head doctor and the master of their medical peak.

"Why you think you might be seeing things, we'll address later, after I've examined you and we've returned to the sect," Mu Qingfang said slowly. He stepped fully into the room and closed the door securely behind himself, activating a silencing ward on the door. "Along with some other points I'd like to address with you."

"This isn't about the whole demon thing, is it?" the author asked nervously. "Because Yue-shixiong cleared me of those charges when he let me rejoin the sect, though I'm still not sure if I want to be in a room alone with Liu-shidi because he probably hasn't forgiven me yet. Which is unfair because I know he'd never hold it against Shen-shixiong who has an absolutely unfair amount of luck."

Mu Qingfang waited until he took a moment to breathe before speaking up to answer him. "It would seem that demons are, once again, involved, but no. It's not about the 'demon thing,'" he said dryly. "It's about the fact that I've heard one of my martial brothers had managed to get himself injured yet again."

Right, that made sense. Injury, doctor. And it wouldn't be the first time Mu Qingfang had made a house-call to come see him. Only, it was usually when he was actually on the mountain. "That's very nice of you, Mu-shidi, but I've already had a doctor look at it."

It was pretty clear from Mu Qingfang’s face what he thought about the skills of some local village doctor as he leveled a stare at Shang Qinghua before using a hand to push him back down onto the bed. “Roll your pant leg up.” He raised an eyebrow when the author went to the cleaner of his pant legs. “The injured one, Shixiong.”

“Ah, right,” Shang Qinghua said, sheepish at his not all that clever ruse being so quickly called out. “It’s really nothing all that serious. It’s been all patched up already, and I’ll be healed up in no time!”

Mu Qingfang hummed noncommittally as he knelt down and grabbed hold of the other man’s leg carefully, removing the bandages so he could get a better look at the wound. It didn’t look all that bad, the area around it pale instead of red with infection. The area around the other side of the leg wasn’t quite as pretty, but exit wounds never were. “And what caused this?”

“Um, an ice bullet?” Shang Qinghua said, trying not to squirm.

The doctor’s eyes sharpened in response, looking up at him. “Your demon?”

Shang Qinghua frantically waved his hands in denial. “No, no, no! It wasn’t my king! It was his uncle. I kind of pissed him off a bit ago and he came hunting after me. My king saved me! He even brought me here!”

Mu Qingfang eyeballed him for a while longer, trying to figure out if the nervous man was trying to cover up for the ice demon he’d been sneaking into the sect for decades before deciding that it would be a matter settled later. Right now, he had a patient to take care of.

“The doctor who did these bandages did an acceptable job, for what he’s capable of,” he said at last, covering the wound with fresh bandages. “But for proper care, I want to take you back to Qian Cao. Anything you need to settle can be taken care of later.” Mu Qingfang looked around the room. “Where is your sword?”

“Ah… about that.” Shang Qinghua rubbed the back of his neck after letting down his pant leg again. “I’m not actually entirely sure. I kind of lost it when I was…” Running for his life because he was so sure that Mobei-Jun would be coming after him to kill him. “Traveling. Yep, when I was traveling. Before Mobei-Jun’s uncle found me too, which was super inconvenient. It would have been a lot easier to get away from him if I’d been able to just fly away.”

The sigh that Mu Qingfang let out may not have been words, but it was just as easy to tell that it translated to something like ‘I don’t get paid enough.’ “I’m sure it can be tracked down later as well. And I suppose you wouldn’t be able to fly right now anyway, so it’s good that I sent for a carriage to take you back up the mountain.”

“A- oh no, I can make it up there myself, really!” he insisted. Well, tried to insist. Because he hadn’t even decided for sure that he wanted to go back. Going back would mean going back to work, being easy to find, and facing all the disappointed stares of his fellow peak lords, Yue Qingyuan’s pardon or no pardon. “You said the doc did a good enough job, right? I’ll just hang around here until it heals up.”

“I said an adequate job for his abilities,” the doctor corrected. “He was clearly no cultivator, and if you just allow your leg to heal naturally, you could come up against complications. You are coming with me or I will sedate you and you will come along regardless. Do I need to do so?”

Shang Qinghua sighed. So cruel to your dear father. Mu-shidi, you are at risk of losing your position as favorite child! And considering the number of times he’d seen him do exactly that to Liu Qingge, he didn’t have much doubt that he would carry out his threat either. “No, Mu-shidi.”

Mu Qingfang nodded in satisfaction. “Good. Stay in bed until my assistants arrive with the carriage. I’ll get you some water to sip in the meantime. Unfortunately, I was sent without enough warning to prepare for tea.”

“Sent?” the author asked, blinking. That brought up a big question, actually. How had Mu Qingfang known he was there, or that he could be in need of a doctor? He certainly hadn’t sent any messages. Maybe the village doctor had, if he thought he couldn’t do enough? Not that Shang Qinghua was particularly dressed as one of the sect members at the moment…

“The Sect Leader told me where to find you,” Mu Qingfang said with a nod, pressing a cup of water into his hand. “I’m certain he’ll have more things to talk to you about when we return.”

Shang Qinghua shrank inwardly at the idea, sure that he had plenty to be told off for. Even if he was invited back into the sect, that didn’t mean he was going to be trusted, or be particularly welcome. They probably just wanted to make sure that the paperwork could still get done, and Liu-shidi sure wasn’t going to do it! His bro was still off honeymooning, so there was another dead end, no matter how hard Ming Fan tried to keep things going in his absence. (His once canon fodder bully character had grown up so much, it made him proud.) But Yue Qingyuan had also grown, really filling out that big brother and powerful sect leader role he’d been created for.

“Sure you can’t say I was already gone by the time you got here?” he asked with a grimace, sipping the water as he hid himself behind the cup. “I could give you the list of locations where we get all those special herbs you like to keep in stock. You know, the ones you’ve tried to follow my disciples to discover?”

“Tempting, but no,” Mu Qingfang said, shaking his head. “You’ll just have to keep sending your disciples out to harvest them for me. After you return to your duties in the sect.”

“You are a cruel, cruel man.” Handing the cup back, he laid back on the bed, allowing the other cultivator to guide his legs up into a proper position as well.

“Yes, forcing my martial family to take care of themselves instead of letting them work and hack themselves to death. Cruelty of the worst degree,” the other man agreed dryly. He held out a hand, waiting until Shang Qinghua gave him his with another sigh so he could start feeding him a trickle of qi to help speed up the healing process. More would need to wait until he was satisfied with the state of the wound.

“See, he admits it.”

“Rest, Shixiong. I will wake you when it’s time to transport you to the carriage.”

Shang Qinghua threw an arm over his eyes, hiding from the light as much as the unpleasant consequences that were surely headed his way. He did have to wonder, however.

How had Yue Qingyuan found out that he was there?

-

If Shang Qinghua had one thing to say about the disciples of Qian Cao peak, it was that they had all the professionalism of modern doctors and infinitely more style. Mu Qingfang directed them to carry him out of the inn on a stretcher to the waiting carriage. Cucumber might complain about them using carriages so much when there were flying swords, but there were plenty of times when carts and carriages made so much more sense! Like transporting inventory and injured peak lords! Plus it allowed for steamy little scenes while people traveled without having to stop and get an inn every time. Too many inns made things boring! And he could only write about the difficulty of sex while flying on a sword so many times before people caught on that he was just copying the same scene again.

On the way out, he finally got a look at the village his king had brought him to, trying to place why it looked so familiar. It’d been dark when they’d gotten there the night before, so he couldn’t really see. It was only when he spotted the one particular restaurant beside the inn that he put it together. It was the same village that he'd brought Mobei to when they'd first met.

As if he needed more flutters in his stomach to add to the worry.

"Lift him in gently," Mu Qingfang said, seeing the way that Shang Qinghua tried to hide his grimace as he was moved from the stretcher into the carriage.

"Shidi, you really don't have to do all this," the author tried to protest, no matter that the rest of his protests so far had been pretty well ignored or dismissed.

The doctor gave him a flat look and Shang Qinghua shut up again, letting himself be settled inside the carriage with a blanket wrapped around him before Mu Qingfang climbed in to join him. The disciples stayed outside, taking control of the carriage as it started into motion.

If it were anyone else, Shang Qinghua would have had to seriously worry that they might be planning to take him up to a cliff and kick him out and over the edge. But he liked to think that he and Mu-shidi were at least kind of friends? They certainly had more in common in workload than a lot of their martial siblings, overworked, under-rested, and essential to the survival of the sect on a day-to-day basis. Shang Qinghua was just fortunate that the doctor couldn't hold his drink nearly as much as he could, or he was sure that the man would have discovered all his secrets so much earlier. And he might not have invented such an effective hangover cure.

Still, tentative friendship or no, Shang Qinghua spent the entire trip fretting, his fingers clenched in the blanket as he tried not to stare at the doctor as he read through a book he'd pulled from his sleeves.

"Is there something on your mind, Shixiong?" Mu Qingfang asked after a while. They were already heading uphill, the flashes of scenery visible out the window familiar as the path up to Cang Qiong Mountain. They were already almost there.

"Ah, don't worry, don't worry, I'm only dreading the paperwork that must be waiting for me back on the peak," Shang Qinghua said quickly. "It's been a while since I've been back home after all. And while I'm sure my disciples did their best while I was gone, there's just some things that you need a peak lord to do, right?"

Mu Qingfang looked doubtful as he studied him. "You will need time to rest once we return, Shixiong. Aside from your leg, I can tell how much you've depleted your energy."

"Sure, sure. I can do the paperwork at home just as well as at my office."

The other man sighed. "That is not what I meant."

"Sitting and writing isn't strenuous," the author argued with a put-upon cheer. "I promise to have the kids do all the running around."

Shaking his head at his stubborn colleague and his use of odd slang, Mu Qingfang lifted up his book again. "As you say."

Clearly, he would need to have some words with the aforementioned disciples about making sure they intercepted some of their shizun's paperwork. He took too much of it upon himself in the best of circumstances as it was.

The carriage continued on through the front gates, their jade charms letting them through the wards without fuss as they continued on towards Qian Cao Peak, finally stopping on the road closest to the sect hospital. Mu Qingfang kept a close eye on Shang Qinghua as he was transferred back onto the stretcher and carried inside. If he was going to try and run, it would be then. Thankfully, their logistics master decided to be a good patient, for now, and just pouted as he was carried inside into a care room, the door shut for privacy.

A closer examination showed the tell-tale signs of frostbite along the 'bullet' wound, as Shang Qinghua had called the weapon used. Nothing too severe, but nevertheless added to his notes. The bruising on his other leg was concerning, but the cause obviously hadn't broken any bones. The same 'uncle' as before?

(Having seen Shang Qinghua more than a few times over the years, he had questions he wanted to ask if he got the chance to pin the ice demon king in a room to demand answers. Questions that lent doubts at the moment.)

"Other than the physical wounds, which will take time to heal, you're very qi depleted, as I noted to you on the way here," Mu Qingfang said as he finished up his examination, the hole in Shang Qinghua's leg now packed with medicinal herbs to encourage the regrowth of tissue and prevent infection. He pressed a little box of tea into his troublesome shixiong's hands. "Brew this as a tea, three times a day until your levels are back to normal. I will come to check on you tomorrow to make sure you're following instructions."

"Mu-shidi, you really don't have to babysit me," Shang Qingfang complained, sulking. Even dry and unbrewed, he could smell the tea in his hands and ugh. How long would it take to get that smell out of his house?

The doctor gave him another one of his infamous looks. Press F to doubt, seriously. "Expect me in the afternoon. I'll bring another box of your calming tea then as well. It seems the last batch got some moisture in it, so my disciples are in the process of making more. You need to lower your stress."

He opened his mouth, raising a finger to argue before pausing and lowering it. "Yeah, okay, you've got me on that one. Just know that my place was a bit of a mess when I left, so don't expect a nice reception room when you visit. My disciples aren't allowed in when I'm not there."

"Neither, it seems, are fellow peak lords."

Shang Qinghua jumped at the new voice, quickly scrambling to pull his pant legs back down to cover his legs.

Mu Qingfang bowed as their sect leader stepped into the room. "Yue-Zhangmen. Are you here to welcome back Shang-shixiong?"

"I thought I would escort him home safely, in case there are any persons who still harbor unkind feelings," Yue Qingyuan said, his ultimate big brother smile pasted neatly on his face. The one that said he was asking, but if you didn't agree he wouldn't be asking anymore. "Assuming he is ready to leave your immediate care, that is."

"He should be, yes. But he mustn't be made to walk all the way to An Ding," Mu Qingfang said with a nod as he set aside the last of his supplies to be put away.

"It's not that big of a deal," Shang Qinghua muttered, looking down away from that look. He may have made the man, but feeling like he'd disappointed Yue Qingyuan always made him feel a bit like shit. Even if he wasn't being called on anything at the moment.

"It's no trouble. You've been away from home for some time," Yue Qingyuan said, offering a hand to help the author up off of the examination table, visually noting the way that Shang Qinghua kept his weight off of one leg. "There are some things I would like to ask you about. May as well combine the tasks. And, as our Mu-shidi pointed out, you shouldn't be made to walk. I can fly us there."

Defeated, Shang Qinghua sighed and accepted the strong arm around his waist, even if it made his ears burn. Their sect leader was no Mobei-Jun, but he was still a handsome man, okay! And it was embarrassing to need someone to help him stand. Still, better than being thrown over his shoulder like a certain demon had tried to do not long ago.

"I'm glad to see you safely back home," the taller man said as he brought Shang Qinghua outside again, tidily pretending not to notice the stray sets of eyes watching them from other rooms as they passed. Outside, he drew his secondary sword, stepping up onto it while still holding onto the author. "Balance on your good leg. I will make sure you don't fall."

"Thanking you, sect leader," Shang Qinghua said softly. He waited until he was up in the air to risk asking. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"It can wait until we arrive," Yue Qingyuan said. "Perhaps over tea. I would also like to take a look at the wards you have on your leisure house at some point. They're quite impressive. Though I can perhaps understand why you felt they were needed, considering."

"Yue-Zhangmen..."

"We're almost there," the sect leader said, once again firmly putting explanations off until they were no longer in flight.

Then again, that could have been in part because the moment they flew near An Ding, the disciples took notice. And far from being angry at their shizun, it made his heart warm to see the way they waved, the younger ones dropping their current tasks to follow along with the pair flying in on the sword. Aw, his ducklings had missed him.

The moment they touched down in front of the leisure house, the children swarmed, one of them grabbing onto his sleeves even, with cries of "We thought you'd been killed!" and "Don't you leave again!" plus "You missed the annual inventory!" Aw, all the important things.

"Excuse me," Yue Qingyuan said with a cough, catching their attention immediately. No few looked sheepish in front of the sect leader. "This master understands that you have missed your beloved teacher, but your Shang-shizun and I have things to discuss."

They parted like a blue and yellow sea, making a path to Shang Qinghua's door and allowing the sect leader to help him up to the porch where he pressed a hand to the spot where he knew the door wards were carved into the wood on the other side. As the spell relaxed, they were able to open the door and step inside, closing the disciples out.

As expected, it was an absolute mess of scrolls and paperwork. Just like he'd left it. Though the dust was new. Hm, he should have one of the disciples come in and clean that up if he was supposed to just be sitting and relaxing.

"Sorry about the mess," Shang Qinghua said as he was lowered down into his usual seat at the desk. "I was kind of in the middle of things when I left."

"Hm." Yue Qingyuan didn't respond, looking around for a kettle.

Shang Qinghua mentally braced himself for it. While their sect leader had many talents, tea making was not one of them. Meaning he was never so grateful as when there was a polite knock on the door before it opened and his head disciple stood there with a tray.

"Pardon the intrusion, Shizun," the teenager said, bowing as best as he could with his hands full. "But I brought tea for you and the sect leader. Since what you have has likely gone stale while you were away."

Oh, good son. Almost as favorited as Mu-shidi. Save him from bad tea!

“Thank you, that was very thoughtful, Shi Wuyou,” Shang Qinghua said with a bright smile. “Let your shidi and shimei know that I’ve returned, will you? I’m sure they have reports for me.”

“That they can deliver after tomorrow,” Yue Qingyuan said with gentle firmness, dismissing the disciple without saying it, taking a seat in the larger of the two chairs in the room. Mobei’s favored chair, actually. Shang Qinghua had lost one to the demon’s heavier weight rather quickly. Purchasing a sturdier, larger one that just so happened to look a bit nicer had been a defense mechanism. Once they were alone, the sect leader picked up the cup that had been poured for him, taking a moment to appreciate it before taking a sip and looking at him over the cup. “I understand you ran afoul of some demon politics recently.”

Shang Qinghua jumped, staring at the other man with wide eyes. “How did you know-”

“Your Mobei-Jun sent a message early this morning asking to speak with me. He was quite insistent that we send you proper medical care,” the sect leader said calmly.

“My king did...?” Shang Qinghua said, his voice suddenly going very quiet. Mobei had asked to see the sect leader? For him?

“He was quite civil, from what I understand of his usual behavior,” Yue Qingyuan said, giving him a nod. “I am not certain if he fully trusts your pardon from the sect, for he seemed ready to offer payment for services rendered. Clearly, he values you.”

Did he suddenly have a fever? Because Qinghua’s face suddenly felt very warm. And his seat was obviously itchy, with the way that he felt the need to squirm in it as he could see the demanding (desperate) way his king had demanded to know what would make him stay.

“Ah, I suppose? I mean, I’ve been handling a lot of the Northern Palace finances the last few years, so things would probably be a mess for a while if I suddenly kicked the bucket, plus the local treaties and trade deals I’ve been working on,” he blurted out, trying to push that memory from his mind. He wasn’t in any shape to deal with it at the moment. “He probably overestimated the extent of my injuries just to get you to act faster. Northern demons are good at recognizing strength, and they all know you defeated Tianlang-Jun so he’s gotta be polite, right?”

The sect leader examined him. “Is that all it is, shidi?”

“Of course! What else could it be?” Shang Qinghua asked, rushing on ahead. “It’s not like we’re really friends. I’m honestly just lucky that he found me valuable enough to keep alive until he got used to me being around. He can be a little possessive of people he considers his, that’s all.”

“I would hope that he properly values our dear martial brother considering he’s taken up a fair amount of your time over the years,” Yue Qingyuan said pointedly. What he was pointing at, Shang Qinghua wasn’t quite sure. Because ‘dear martial brother?’ Ha! Half of their sect siblings barely tolerated him coming around to chase after reports and budget plans, much less actually willingly spending time with him. Then again, maybe Yue Qingyuan just meant it in the way that Mobei was using sect resources without sect leader permission. Yes, that had to be it.

“He’s actually helped me on sect missions on more than one occasion,” he said with a forced laugh. “I don’t think I’d have survived to become peak lord if he hadn’t sent demons to wipe out some of the monsters and bandits that we’ve run into.”

Yue Qingyuan raised an eyebrow. “So he’s protected you?”

“More than a few times,” Shang Qinghua said, happy to praise his king to the sect leader now that he could actually do it without worrying about revealing himself as a spy. “Even when Lord Luo came to fight him fresh out of the Abyss. Of course, protecting me was grabbing me by the scruff of my neck and throwing me out of the throne room, but it still meant that Binghe couldn’t just kill me right away for associating with the demon who broke his seal, ha ha.”

“I wasn’t aware that the demon emperor had any such plans on your life,” Yue Qingyuan said, his voice dipping lower. Dangerously low.

“He never said anything like that either! It was just a big worry of mine, you know? And like I said, my king is possessive! He didn’t like the idea of anyone else beating me up, especially not this upstart who’d been living entirely as a human until just a few years before and was barely an adult.” And the fact that said upstart had managed to defeat him rather readily in combat must have stung, with the way that Mobei had banished him back to the human realm so quickly after the fight.

The sect leader’s eyes narrowed further. “He beats you?”

“Not anymore?” Shang Qinghua squeaked helpfully, realizing that admitting such a thing probably wasn’t going to win Mobei points of favor. Or him, for that matter, letting himself be smacked around by a demon. “He promised! We had a big fight about it and he said he wouldn’t anymore. So don’t even worry about it!”

“Shang-shidi…”

“You know what, I think this tea could be improved with something a little stronger,” Shang Qinghua said in quick deflection, twisting around in his seat (and only wincing a little for his efforts) to grab a bottle of wine he kept nearby for some of those more headachy days. The outside was dusty, sure, but that didn’t mean that the wine inside wouldn’t be good. He poured a healthy dose into his half-finished tea, going to give some to the sect leader until the other man covered his cup with a hand. More for him then. “It obviously wasn’t so bad, or you’d have noticed a long time ago, right?”

Knocking back his spiked tea, he missed the brief expression of guilt washing over the sect leader’s face before it could be covered up.

“I’ll take our weird not-partnership over whatever weird thing Binghe and Shen-shixiong have going on,” he said with a huff, refilling his teacup, and not with tea. “It’s been hard work, but it’s not without its perks either. Where do you think Mu-shidi got half the herbs in his apothecary? I’m certainly not sending disciples to trade for them in the borderlands.”

“You’ve traded for them in the demon realm while serving the Northern king?” Yue Qingyuan suggested, studying him.

“Demons aren’t so good at creating talismans,” Shang Qinghua said with a nod. “Simple ones like stasis charms for food, basic wards to keep pest types out of your village, nothing too powerful. Though sometimes my king just gives me the things I’m trying to trade for. Has bruised a few merchant egos, let me tell you.”

“I imagine so.”

“Reward for services rendered, I guess, because I sure don’t get paid money for the work I put in for it. And I’d know if I was supposed to, because I’m the one doing up the budget.”

“Hm, perhaps we ought to speak to him about that,” Yue Qingyuan said thoughtfully. “A good steward should be compensated for his time.”

“Right? But how do you go up to a king and demand money after you’ve been working for him since you were both teens?” he asked, going to take another sip of ‘tea’ only to find the cup empty again. Rude. “Just seems to turn the whole situation more awkward than it needs to be.”

“That does remind me to ask, how is it that you came into his service so early? Were you being sent on missions into the borderlands as an outer disciple?” Yue Qingyuan asked mildly, as though asking how a couple had met in casual conversation.

“An Ding wouldn’t have any outer disciples left if we’d been doing that! Either they’d have all packed up and left or been eaten on the way. We… well, we ran into each other on the road. I did a favor for my king, and in return he didn’t kill me.” If saving someone’s life could be considered a favor. If it was, it wasn’t one that he wanted to chance the sect leader being able to throw into Mobei’s face later. It was probably a super embarrassing memory for his king. “And I guess I could have killed him too, but you know? He was just too damn pretty.”

Whoops, had he said that out loud? Forgetting that immediately, thanks. Qinghua filled up his cup again and swallowed half of it in one go.

Something settled in Yue Qingyuan’s expression as he watched his shidi drown his embarrassment in wine. So that was how it was. So it was two now, with a potential one or two more among the disciples. Demons could truly be dangerous.

“Mobei-Jun’s face is… pleasant to look upon,” the sect leader agreed diplomatically. Objectively, it was true. Thinking on the cool expressions and pale features, he could consider them attractive. If he were to consider a demon in that way.

And he was night and day away from a certain former disciple, which perhaps earned him points in a deep, secret place in his mind. Along with a similarity to one other face he held dear.

“Has he had you doing more than accounting and contract writing?” Yue Qingyuan asked curiously, allowing his mind to wander away from wistful thoughts that couldn’t be.

“Well, I suppose I watch over a few other things. The demons working in the palace really had to be whipped into shape. Sleeping in corners on the job, nibbling on their smaller coworkers, and half of them couldn’t even read! The courtiers can of course, but the cooks? The housekeeping staff? How can you manage a palace when your employees can’t read your instructions? And don’t get me started how many bad marriage plots I’ve had to deal with for my king. Marriage contracts tucked in between trade agreements like he was going to put his name to them without anyone even looking.”

And if you think the amount of aphrodisiac plants in the human realm is bad, it barely compares to what grows in the demon realm. Thankfully most of them can’t stand the climate in the Northern Desert, but people keep sending them! I am not going to let my king get trapped into a fuck or die situation with some random minor lord’s daughter, or another’s widowed dowager, so they can come and demand to be taken as a consort for taking their ‘honor.’ Ha!”

Shang Qinghua covered a yawn as exhaustion seemed to take him over all at once as he finished off another glass. No, it would be rude to kick out the sect leader just so he could take a nap.

Thankfully, Yue Qingyuan said and took care of the matter for him, setting down his cup and rising to his feet. “Ah, I should allow my shidi to rest. This conversation has been most informative.” He moved around the table to help the other man up without asking, half carrying him into the attached bedroom. Shang Qinghua was asleep before they’d finished taking off his boots and outermost robe. He might have left it on his shidi for modesty, if it weren’t for the travel grime and blood still staining it. The pants, he would allow the other peak lord to handle on his own.

The sect leader pulled a blanket over his drunken martial brother before heading for the door, only pausing to look back at him. Resting peacefully in what he understood to be a rarity for the nervous man. Clearly, he had some things to consider, and some tentative plans to draft. Without Mobei-Jun’s date and time of birth, a day couldn’t be chosen yet, but… he had a feeling that would come.

Chapter Text

The last thing that Shang Qinghua wanted as he was waking up to a hangover was the blue light of a System window shining in his face. Shouldn't there be rules against that or something? No System alerts until he was fully awake, washed, fed, and ready for the day? Which would have worked perfectly for him because he was never ready for the day.

Cracking his eyelids open, he squinted up at the annoying computer window. "What do you want?" he asked, scowling at it. "You said I finished everything."

[Host is being granted an optional quest line for completing the plot! Since the quest is optional, there is no penalty for not completing it, but it must be carried through once begun. Do you wish to proceed?]

He made a face, burying his head in the pillow (and thank goodness for getting a soft one. Porcelain pillows and his skull just did not get along well), and tried to ignore it.

[Host must make a decision. Quest line: "Small Matters" is optional but must be carried through once begun. Do you wish to proceed?]

"Can you at least tell me what it involves?" he asked. Fuck, it was too early to deal with the system. No system outside his working hours, please! He doesn't get paid overtime!

[Host must make a decision. Quest line: "Small Matters" is optional but must be carried through once begun. Do you wish to proceed?]

Great, it was being stubborn and evasive on top of everything. Not like that was new.

"Mute notifications until I turn them back on or whatever. Go away." He waved a hand at it and saw the window blink out from the corner of his eye. Had it finally gotten the hint? Probably not, but he was going to take advantage of the quiet for a while.

Throwing an arm over his face, he ran the previous day through his head, hoping that he hadn’t completely made a fool of himself. Right, got dragged back up to the sect, poked at by Mu Qingfang, then questioned by Yue Qingyuan, with the probably bad idea of adding booze to his tea. But at least he hadn’t started talking about other worlds and shit.

Then again, the system probably would have knocked him stone cold sober if he’d started doing that. And that was if it was feeling friendly.

Sitting up slowly, he grimaced as the sunlight not only hurt his eyes, but pointed out how much of a mess it was in there. Bad enough for the sect leader to have seen it. He didn’t need Mu-shidi to see it and start lecturing him about the place too!

As he stumbled to his feet (well, mostly foot. The other leg still hurt like hell), he grabbed the first stick-like object to use as a crutch so he could hobble into the front room and at least try to make it presentable. Not for the first time, he wished it’d been safe to let his disciples come in and clean for him like most peak lords, but no. He had to have a royal brat with a fond habit of teleporting in and making himself comfortable on his bed at any and all hours.

"Not that that’s much of a secret anymore," he muttered, moving last night’s tea cups to a basin to wash later and hiding the suspiciously empty bottle of wine well out of sight. "Could just put up a sign on the door. ‘Warning, may contain a demon king. Open at own risk.’ It’d be like inviting Liu Qingge to smash down my door each and every day just for a chance at a good fight."

By the time he gave it up as a lost cause (mainly because his leg felt like it was about to fall off), there were at least two surfaces free of papers and scrolls and he'd wiped the dust off of most of the furniture and things. Which put it from 'abandoned wreck' to 'hopeless mess.' Good enough for him. Shang Qinghua sank down into his chair with a groan moments before there came a knock at the door.

"Come in," he called, not about to stand up again.

To his surprise and maybe a little bit of irritation, it wasn't Mu Qingfang that stood at the door, but rather his head disciple, who bowed politely before stepping inside. "My shizun sends his apologies for not coming personally, but he was delayed by some urgent matters."

"Bai Zhan or Wan Jian?" Shang Qinghua asked tiredly. Both were equal contenders, but Bai Zhan was more likely to involve property damage that An Ding would have to deal with.

"Wan Jian," the younger man said with a sigh. "A matter of the forge, I believe. But Peak Lord Mu sent me to make sure you got your new batch of calming tea."

"God knows I need it," the author muttered, waving towards a bare spot near his miniature stove and the kettle he kept on top of it. "Pass on my thanks. I'll be sure to make some soon."

The Qian Cao disciple hesitated. "Shizun also told me to make sure you take some of each medicine before I return. I can brew you some without you needing to get up."

Curse him. Mu Qingfang maybe knew him a little too well. But it was fine as long as he didn't have to get up. Sighing, he pointed to the shelf where he stored his cups, keeping a few spares so he didn't have to wash them so often. "Fine, fine."

Permission given, the disciple started the stove and refilled the kettle, preparing two cups to prepare both medicines at the same time. To be fair, the calming tea was one that he drank on a regular basis because his life was anything but calm and it helped him keep from qi deviating from the stress alone. And as much as the other one smelled nasty, it'd be nice to get his healing back up to snuff so his leg would mend.

And since he didn't have to brew them, he could get started on his actual paperwork. Which stared menacingly at him from every part of the room, save those he'd deliberately cleared off.

Once the two cups were set down in front of him, carefully not on the page he'd started working on because unlike some peaks, Qian Cao taught their disciples how to be civilized human beings, he set aside his brush and picked up the qi replenishment tea first. He downed the hot liquid as fast as he could before chasing it with a healthy swallow of the calming tea. Frowning, he eyeballed the cup.

"Did Mu-shidi adjust the recipe to the calming tea?" he asked the disciple.

"I do not believe so, no."

"Huh." Shrugging, he took another sip before setting it down. "Must be an aftertaste from the first one."

The disciple nodded, closing up the two boxes of medicine before putting them tidily away by the cooling kettle. "Shizun will come to see you once he is free." And with a polite bow, he saw himself out.

Already focused on tackling his backlog, Shang Qinghua barely noticed him leaving, sipping away at the much more pleasant calming tea. There was a little bit of a mint flavor to it that he wasn't used to, but it wasn't unpleasant. Aftertaste, like he'd first assumed, or a minor ingredient swap because he hadn't been around to arrange the supply deliveries. Who knew? But if it did the job, he didn't care.

As he worked, he found that what he did care about was the way his sleeves were being particularly unruly today, and kept trying to slide over his hands as he wrote, getting ink on the silk and smudging the words whenever he looked away. What he wouldn't give for a safety pin! Clearly, he was going to have to invent one. It didn't seem like it would be too hard, right. Just a bit of bent wire and the safety cap. And it would save him from so much annoyance.

The kind of annoyance that only grew when his own disciples decided he'd had enough time to himself and began knocking on his door to bring in new issues and ask after forms like he was in his office. Obviously, he knew that with his home warded off while he was gone, that meant that the paperwork was just accumulating in his office. Paperwork that he was being brought now. That didn't mean he had to be happy to see it!

And his sleeves would just NOT stay shoved up out of the way, even slipping free from the ribbon he tied them with to keep them out of the way. Frankly, these robes were probably going to be a lost cause anyway considering they were the same ones he'd worn for about a week, during multiple fights, and slept in last night. The ink stains on them weren't important. The smudged ink on the paperwork, however!

"If you set that there before the ink dries, I am lending you to Bai Zhan for a month," he growled, making one disciple about to put down a newly delivered pile on top of the page he'd just finished writing on freeze in place, face stricken with horror at the idea of the punishment.

"You might be a good fit yourself, Shixiong," Mu Qingfang said, letting himself in following yet another disciple ducking out of the sitting room turned office. "Since you are about as bad at Liu-shixiong when it comes to following doctor’s orders." He looked over the group of An Ding disciples with disapproval. "Out, please. Your shizun needs rest to recover properly."

"Make sure you check that the ink is dry before you put anything down!" Shang Qinghua said quickly as they hurried to put down their loads, snatching up completed forms and scurrying out like a bunch of startled ducklings. "They listen to you better than they do me."

"They may be the only ones on this mountain other than my own disciples," the doctor said with a raised eyebrow. He stared at Shang Qinghua pointedly until he rinsed out his brush and put it down. "When I said rest, I didn't mean immediately throw yourself back into work, Shang-shixiong."

"This IS resting," the author protested, trying not to sulk when his writing supplies were gathered up and put out of reach, paperwork likewise cleared off of his desk. Though with more care than certain someones would have used when they wanted the table. A few minutes later, another cup of tea was set in front of him. "I'm sitting down and everything."

"I have seen you sit down and fill out forms for three days straight before passing out face first into a repair request form," Mu Qingfang pointed out dryly, waiting for his colleague to start drinking the tea. He clearly needed something to calm him down if he was ever going to be able to get any actual rest. "So forgive this master if I am a little skeptical over your claims."

"Okay, fair. But I'm just trying to get a little caught up, that's all. Before anyone comes down on me breathing fire because I was here for two whole days and they haven't gotten everything they ordered ahead of the rest of the sect." Which wasn't that unlikely with Qi Qingqi, come to think of it. He was kind of surprised she wasn't already there demanding a new shipment of silks for her disciples' clothes. Maybe word hadn't gotten out all the way that he was back yet.

"I am sure that it can all wait until you've had at least a few days to recover," Mu Qingfang scolded. He waited for Shang Qinghua to finish his tea before bending down and hoisting the other peak lord up into his arms, ignoring the surprised squawk the other man made. Despite sputtered protests, he carried him into his bedroom and sat the author down on the bed, picking up a set of sleeping robes that'd been left strewn across the bed and shaking them out. "Change and rest."

"Mu-shidi, it's not even dark out yet!" Shang Qinghua protested, trying to get back up so he could return to work, but was blocked by the solid wall that was their stubborn chief healer. "And I haven't eaten yet! You always say not to practice inedia while recovering from a wound!"

"I'll tell one of your students to bring something in a few hours," Mu Qingfang said smoothly, turning his back to let Shang Qinghua change with some modesty. "Until then, I don't want you doing anything more strenuous than reading a book if you're unable to nap."

"Alright, I'm covered," the author said with a huff, reluctantly allowing himself to be tucked into the bed, his leg arranged for him so he didn't have to move it too much. "I'm just going to have more work piling up the longer you keep me out of commission. It's not good for my stress, you know."

"You'll survive." Mu Qingfang closed up his shutters most of the way, blocking the direct sunlight from entering the room while still allowing fresh air in. "Now, rest. And I would recommend not drinking while you're taking the qi replenishment tea, but send me a message if you need any painkillers."

"Yes, mother," Shang Qinghua muttered as he closed his eyes, getting a snort in response. Ha. "I'll send one of the ducklings over if I need help."

"See that you do."

"You're putting your position of favorite shidi at risk, just so you know," he pointed out dryly. "Maybe I'll give it to Liu Qingge. He never gives me nasty teas before sending me to bed."

"No, he just drags you physically to my door and drops you there," Mu Qingfang answered with a smirk that the author could just hear in his voice. "Rest well, Shang-shixiong."

Shang Qinghua laid there for a few minutes, listening to the doctor's footsteps retreating and the closing of his door, staying put a little longer for good measure. It wouldn't be the first time that Mu Qingfang had doubled back to make sure he was following orders. But this time, he appeared to be willing to trust him to obey and take the much-needed nap.

Which just went to show that his favorite shidi was far too trusting.

As soon as he was sure that he was alone, and would remain so, he (painfully) rolled back out of bed and crept into his front room. There was enough light coming in from the shutters to start working without lighting a candle, which was what he did, taking his seat back at his desk and dragging another stack of forms over to work on. Without his disciples coming in, he could at least work on the backlog they'd already brought.

What did he need sleep for anyway?

-

Shang Qinghua grumbled as he woke up, his back sore. Had he fallen asleep at his desk again? Damn, he hoped he hadn't knocked over his ink this time. He'd done that before and not only ruined a stack of graded papers, but also stained his face with it for a week. Without opening his eyes, he reached out to push himself up, only to tangle his hand in fabric. Huh? Had he crawled off to bed after all?

He tried to pull the blanket down from where it was drawn up over his head. And pulled. And pulled. His eyes snapped open, confused. His blankets weren't that big! A little more struggling finally brought the edge of the blanket down to face level so he could look out, and then he froze.

His front room may have been larger than his entire apartment from his first life, but it had never been this big. The rooms that Mobei had stuck him in at the Northern Palace had never been this big. He stared with wide eyes at the desk in front of him, three times the height it should have been, his favorite brush hanging off the edge likewise. In fact, everything looked about triple its normal size.

"Dreaming. I'm dreaming. Yeah, that's gotta be it," he said slowly, looking around as he clutched the blanket with tight fingers. "Because I'm in bed and my bed isn't next to my desk. See, this is my blanket..." Shang Qinghua looked down to prove it to himself. But it wasn't his blanket he was clutching. It was the collar of his sleeping robe. Three times too big for him. Meaning he was functionally naked. "Huh. Well, that explains why I couldn't find the top. Everything got bigger except me."

Because the only other explanation was that he'd shrunk, and that just wasn't possible. Binghe or Cucumber, sure, because he'd heard that they were still getting hit with the occasional wife plots. But he was just a cannon fodder side character. Wife plots didn't happen to him. Nope.

Swallowing, he tried to desperately cling to the numb confidence that he was unimportant enough to bother, but the more he stared up at the edge of his desk, seeing all the little scratches in the wood from when he'd nervously picked at it over the years, the less and less likely the idea of not being child sized in a big world seemed to fit. Shang Qinghua looked down at his hands, taking inventory of his body. Nope, still adult shaped. So not a qi deviation like Binghe'd had. Not animal shaped, which was a plus. Just... miniature.

Fuck.

"Who did I piss off this time?" he asked the empty room. He didn't remember writing any characters with shrinking abilities in Proud Immortal Demon Way! And he'd have noticed if some demon had snuck in while he was sleeping, wouldn't he? He wasn't exactly a deep sleeper! Couldn't be, considering how many of his assistants in the Northern Desert would probably happily eat him if they thought they could get away with it!

But what if something had, and it was still around?

"Shit, shit, shit..." Feeling himself begin to panic, he jumped to his feet, looking for something to defend himself with. Even if he'd had his sword, it would probably also be too big right now, right? Where was that knife his king had given him? It'd be better than nothing!

He didn't notice the fact that his leg supported him without screaming.

He did notice the sound of footsteps and voices approaching his door.

"Are you sure we should be bringing Shizun more work? Mu-shishu said he needed to rest after his injury."

"Our shizun's instructions come before our martial uncles' do. And do you want to try and explain why we ran out of talisman papers because the order went out late?"

There were embarrassing things that Shang Qinghua had done and was willing to do since being reborn in this world he'd created. He'd begged on his knees, surrendered, cried, and faked dead in the name of survival. But one thing he wasn't going to do was let his disciples walk in on him completely naked!

He dove for his fallen clothes, wrapping himself in them and trying to drag them under the desk before the door could open, but the fabric was heavy and slow to move. From underneath, he could see the morning light spill in from the door, a trio of young inner students stepping inside, arms no doubt laden with work for him. And from his hiding spot, crouched under his desk, they looked huge.

"Did he leave again?" one of them asked, voice confused.

"Mu-shishu is going to be really mad if he did..."

"Will you stop talking about Mu-shishu already? Shizun must have just stepped out. We'll leave these for him on the desk."

Shit.

Shang Qinghua tried to yank his sleeping robes out of sight, but he was too slow. And the sight of not only his abandoned robes, but robes that were moving, caught the trio's eyes as fast as a waving flag would have. And the disciple who grabbed hold of the other end to pull on it was a lot stronger than he was.

"Stop it!" he shouted before the robe could be pulled completely from his grasp.

Thankfully, the shout was enough to startle the disciple into letting go with a gasp, giving him just enough time to wrap up in the hem before they'd knelt down and wide eyes were staring at him with astonishment. "Shizun?!"

"Shidi, what are you talking about? Shizun couldn't fit under-" the second disciple stopped as she dropped down to see what'd caught the other's attention, spotting him immediately as well. "...there."

"What are you two looking at?" the third asked. There wasn't enough room for him to join them, so he awkwardly leaned over the desk from the other side to see. "What are Shizun's robes doing there?"

"Would the three of you move back and give me some space?" Shang Qinghua said, trying to put on his most authoritative instructor voice, which was hard when his hands were shaking.

His students were huge. Maybe not in full giant fee-fi-foe-fum territory, but where he remembered this particular trio being just a little shorter than him, they now towered over the author, big enough to easily break him in half. If they called him on his bluff of being in charge, there was nothing he could do about it. What if one of them felt a grudge against him? He barely felt like he was in control of things sometimes when he was his full size and decked out in all the trappings of a peak lord. Right now, miniature and practically naked? He did not feel in charge!

As he looked up at him, their eyes just seemed to grow larger until the one girl of the group let out an ungodly squeal. "Shizun, you're so cute!"

"Wait, what- eep!"

As one, they seemed to surge forward, wrapping the robe around him more (thankfully) before pulling him out from his shelter to lift him up onto the desk. And holy fuck did being hoisted up that easily by children make his stomach lurch, sputtering protests. He got his cheek poked by a large finger before the older of the three swatted the younger's hand away, only to get another part of his robe wrapped around him until he was more like a burrito than a peak lord!

"Shizun, are you alright? Is this part of Mu-shishu's treatment? Did a demon do this to you? Or a funny plant? Are you really secretly a fairy?"

He struggled to free one of his arms from the fabric wrapping him up, waving it at them to get a word in edgewise. "I'm fine! I'm not sure what this is, but I am in no way a fairy or anything otherwise! Now calm down!"

The youngest pouted, having been the one to toss out that possibility. Sorry, kiddo, no fairy godmothers here. Fixed with a look from the oldest, he settled down to sulk.

"What happened to you, Shizun?' the oldest asked once they were sure that the youngest wasn't going to start poking again. "You're... not as tall as you normally are."

"I've shrunk to the size of a rodent, is what you meant to say," Shang Qinghua said dryly, looking up at him.

"You're not that small! Maybe... two chi?*

As if that made him feel all that much better. He was shorter than their youngest of disciples, and probably weighed less than a newborn!

But he had good students, and when they saw the way their shizun's shoulders drooped, the oldest sent the other two to make up a pot of tea, with the quieter instruction to see if they could spot something small to use for a cup. Even if it made him flinch, it warmed his cold dead heart a little to hear them worrying about him so much.

"Should we call for Mu-shishu?" the oldest asked, kneeling down next to the desk. He was still taller than the author in that position, but at least he wasn't towering over him anymore.

"No!"

The disciple jerked at the immediate response, blinking. "...are you sure?"

"Absolutely sure. In fact, I don't want any of you so much as breathing a word about this to anyone," Shang Qinghua instructed, drawing himself up. He could at least make himself look a little respectable. Because that no was really a hell no. If Mu Qingfang got his hands on him like this, he'd be locked away on Qian Cao until he was all fixed in a heartbeat, and probably longer considering the man's generally dim view of how he took care of himself. "Not your Mu-shishu, not the sect leader, not Shen-shixiong if he shows up." Because while Cucumber might have an idea of what plot this was from, he also would never, ever, let him live it down. "No one."

"But what if it gets worse?" the youngest asked, bringing over a cup of tea the size of a serving bowl, not having found anything smaller that was suitable. (Because he kept his wine cups hidden better than that.) At least they'd only filled it halfway, with what he could clearly smell was his calming tea.

Shang Qinghua sighed, waiting for it to cool a little if he was going to have to be hugging it order to drink. "Fine, if I shrink to less than one chi, you can get someone else to help. But not until then! And I'm hoping this will just wear off on its own before then."

The three of them stared at him with worry, clearly picturing the eventuality in their heads. They were a good bunch of ducklings, but way to have confidence in your shizun, children! He shook his head and picked up the cup, carefully tipping it enough to drink. They'd made it far too strong, probably the doing of the youngest, but frankly, he could use all the calming he could get.

"If we can't get a healer, then can we get you anything else?" the middle one asked, tugging at her hair ribbons in worry as she tried not to look directly at him more than she had to. "I don't think any of the girls in my dorm have dolls your size. Their clothes would be too small."

Well, at least he was still too big for something. Even if that did remind him that he was basically naked, only the wrapping of his sleeping robe keeping his modesty in front of the disciples.

"We'll have to get creative then. There should be a pair of scissors in the drawer over there. We'll sacrifice some of this robe to make a new one," he said, pointing. He hadn't included scissors in Proud Immortal Demon Way. It probably would have been another thing for Cucumber to blast him for if he had. But the concept was simple, if it hadn't taken long to reinvent them. And he was glad he had. This would have been harder with just a knife. "Cut about as much as I'm tall off, all the way around the bottom, and then bring it up here."

Once they had it laid out and chopped to the right length, he showed them where to make a hole for his head, careful to keep his fingers far away from the moving blades. With his hair ribbon, which he assumed had fallen out when he'd shrunk, for a belt, he waited for them to turn their backs before wiggling out of the rest of the robe and pulling the makeshift one over his head. It was more Christmas play Roman than anything he'd worn in this life, but it covered him and he could actually move in it. Win!

"Alright, you can look, but don't laugh," he said once he was sure that nothing was going to be slipping and showing more than it was supposed to. Of course, the moment they laid eyes on him, they muffled what suspiciously sounded like giggles behind hands. "What did I just say?"

"Sorry, Shizun," they said together, not looking particularly sorry at all.

He let out a huff at them, pacing on the top of his desk. So, he had clothes sorted. He could just have one of them bring him food too. It wouldn't be the first time he had dinner delivered right to where he was working, so nothing that was going to draw attention. Mu Qingfang had already made his visit, as had Yue Qingyuan, so he was probably safe from anyone barging in to talk to him for a bit. He still wanted to find his knife in case something got in. Knowing his luck, his bro's pet monster would get tired of chewing bamboo and wander over just in time to catch him by surprise.

"I'm going to need some ink ground, and a piece of blank paper so I can make a list of tasks for the three of you," he said, picking up his brush from the desk. It was big in his hands, but not impossible. He was kind of reminded of the inflatable swords you could win at carnivals back in his old life, honestly. "After you get those done, I know you have lessons this afternoon. You're not going to skip them to hang around here. Now get to it."

Chapter Text

By the time he managed to finally shoo the trio away to their classes, Shang Qinghua thought he was decently equipped for spending some time in mini land. An extra-large cup of each of his medicines brewed so he could drink them cold as needed, a bag of his favored melon seeds on hand and open, his knife in reach, and some books in reach (no yellow books, not when it was the kids grabbing them for him!). He was lucky that he'd only shrunk this much, meaning that he could still manage most things by himself, even if his disciples had wanted to set up the room like a proverbial hamster cage with everything at hand. If anything tried to actually put him in one, he'd punch them in the knees.

However, managing the scrolls and stacks of forms and papers still proved to be unwieldy and difficult. With his desk just below eye level, that meant working on the floor or climbing up onto it and, essentially, working on the slightly nicer floor. Which was not great for this old man's back. And that didn't even factor in the annoyance of writing with such a big brush. So, whether he wanted to or not, that meant putting aside the paperwork for later. It made the idea of having the three tell one of his older disciples anyway sound even more enticing, just so he could dictate to someone.

Of course, considering the ages of the three... he was pretty sure that the entire peak knew by the time dinner rolled around. They were, at least, mostly keeping their distance. A few inner disciples had come by with flimsy excuses to get a look at him, and his head disciple had bullied his way in to bring him lunch. He made a point of staying seated while they were there, unwilling to drive in the idea of being so much smaller than them. (When he'd had to get up to grab a new book, he pointedly ignored the struggle it was to get back up. Did the damn thing get taller?) But at least while his strongest wards were kept in stasis while he was home, there were some that were meant to keep out non-peak members without invitation.

But the trouble with wards attached to doors came when said door was kicked in off of its hinges.

Alone for the moment and sitting on his desk reading one of the books that'd be put out for him with a freshly drained cup of tea beside him, Shang Qinghua yelped in fear as his door came crashing down, the top landing far too close for comfort. Not that comfort was a thing to be had when it came to his door being kicked in in any way! Especially not when it meant Liu fucking Qingge was immediately free to stroll inside like he owned the place and had never heard of knocking once in his life. Staring up at his (very, very strong and currently particularly scary) shidi, Shang Qinghua felt frozen in his seat.

Right up until the moment the man's eyes locked onto him.

He might have been normally very fast when it came to running away, but even without tripping on the edge of his makeshift robes, he was no match for the other cultivator's speed at going for a target, and Shang Qinghua had only just made it to the edge of the desk before a hand grasped hold of the back of his clothes, hoisting him up into the air.

"What are you?" Liu Qingge asked, staring at him with narrowed eyes. "If those demons think we're going to mistake a poor imitation-"

"N-no, it's really me!" Shang Qinghua pleaded, trying to hold his robes together as he struggled against his shidi's hold. "I'm not a demon trick, I promise! Please put me down!"

The other peak lord glared at him as if offended that something was even trying to trick him. "Shang is small, but not this small. You did a pathetic job with your research. Now, what did you plan to do here?"

"Nothing! Just my paperwork because I'm not a demon! You can confirm with my disciples. They've got to be coming back any time now because I only just sent them on a short errand. Just put me down before the fabric rips," Shang Qinghua babbled, his heart pounding.

From the way that Liu Qingge's free hand moved to his sword, he wasn't convincing him fast enough. Come on, shidi, what demon would pretend to be him of all people?!

Shang Qinghua squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for a quick swing of the sword. How unfair was it, to survive Linguang-Jun coming for his head only to die in his own leisure house?

His rescue came in the form of the Sun Fu, youngest of the trio who'd first found him, returning from his errand and stepping in past the broken door. "Shizun, what happened to your- Shizun!"

"Stay back," Liu Qingge said without even looking away from his captive. "I'll handle this poor imposter."

His little duckling, bless him, ignored the order to run up and grab hold of the war god's arm, trying to pull it away from the sword. "Liu-shishu, that's our Shizun! You can't hurt him!"

"Let go," he growled, trying to shake the boy off and shaking poor Shang Qinghua in his grip in the process. Liu Qingge raised his sword arm, lifting the disciple up with it. "Off!"

The young boy lost his hold and landed on his butt, scrambling to his feet to shoot out the door. "Help! Bai Zhan is attacking Shizun!"

It wasn't clear who was more surprised, Liu Qingge or Shang Qinghua, when half a dozen other children flooded into the room, latching onto the war god and trying to bring him down. But the surprise wasn't enough to break his grip on the back of Shang Qinghua's improvised clothes as he swung dangerously. He tried to twist enough to grab onto the other man's arm, but the effort made his stomach threaten to rebel.

He didn’t want to think of the number of crashes he heard as Liu Qingge swung him around while trying to avoid the grabbing hands of the disciples. One of the taller ones managed to grab hold of Shang Qinghua’s kicking feet, tugging on them to pull him from the other peak lord’s grasp. He wasn’t a toy! Be careful!

And all that bewildering and scary chaos was what the sect leader walked in on, stopping in the doorway to look in on them with astonishment.

"Liu-shidi, put your shixiong down," he said firmly, shaking himself out of it. "Gently, please!"

"Sect leader, you don’t really believe this is Shang Qinghua," Liu Qingge asked incredulously, withstanding that big brother stare a little longer before relinquishing his hold and letting the disciple pull their shizun down. They held onto him tightly, scrambling back from the war god.

"Actually, I do," Yue Qingyuan said with a sigh. He moved a sleeve aside, exposing Sun Fu, who was hiding behind him. "This little one came looking for me for help and was quite convinced."

"Only Shizun knows how to find the files in his home office," the little boy said, fixing a glare at Liu Qingge from the safety of the sect leader. "Even a rock-head from Bai Zhan should know that."

"Shizhi, manners," the sect leader admonished gently, giving him a pat on the head regardless. "However, I do admit he has a point. But if you would like further tests for verification?"

Before Shang Qinghua could ask just what kind of tests Yue Qingyuan was suggesting, another figure came up to peek around the sect leader's shoulder. A tall figure dressed in pale green robes with a fan hiding the lower half of his face. But it didn’t hide the widening of eyes or the way that amusement quickly took over.

Fuck.

He squirmed his way out of his disciple’s arms, fixing his make-shift clothes. No matter that the quickly adjusted bit of silk couldn’t even hope to look anything but shabby next to the other three, especially dragging on the ground as it was..

"Thank you, sect leader," he said, feeling self-conscious. Barefoot, hair down and messy, and oh yeah, knee height.

"Perhaps I could verify our shidi’s identity?" Shen Qingqiu suggested, stepping around Yue Qingyuan. "There are some things that only he and I know that I could confirm with him. In privacy, of course."

"An excellent suggestion," Yue Qingyuan said before turning to the disciples who’d come to Shang Qinghua’s rescue to usher them out. "Well done. We’ll handle things from here. I assure you that your shizun will be looked after."

Reluctantly, they filed out, glancing back at Shang Qinghua over their shoulders as if they were worried he’d vanish if they looked away. Which, fair. Still, he couldn’t help but smile at the way they’d come to his defense.

Then his field of vision was flooded with green silk and he felt that smile vanish as he looked up at his fellow transmigrator towering high above him. Who he just knew was secretly laughing at him in his head.

"Shixiong, if you want me to whisper secrets into your ear, I'm going to need a boost," Shang Qinghua said with a sigh. "I'm not going to try jumping."

"Of course not," came the scoff.

Before the shrunken man could guess what to expect, he was swept up in long sleeves and lifted high from the ground. Gripping the silk tightly, he stared at the mini-giant who'd grabbed him and was now giving him an expectant look.

"Well?" Shen Qingqiu prompted, leaning his head towards him. "Confirm what you know, Xiao-Hua."

Oh, he was going to get him for that one. Soon as he was too big to stuff into a box for revenge. Without feeling at all sorry for it, he grabbed a bit of hair for balance as he straightened up, pretending not to notice the other man's hiss so he could cup his hands around his mouth, speaking directly to Shen Qingqiu's ear. "Fuck you too, Cucumber."

The consequences were immediate. Grabbing him by the back of his clothes (why was that the favorite, really?!), he held him out towards their more violent shidi. "Well, this master isn't sure. We'll try your method, shidi."

"Wha- You bastard traitor!" Shang Qinghua squawked, flailing in midair. Bro, not cool!

"Shen-shidi," Yue Qingyuan said, his voice... well, not scolding because he never scolded his precious shidi, but perhaps a little disapproving. Just a little though.

Shen Qingqiu huffed, turning his captive back towards him to pretend to study him before setting him back down on the table he'd sat on originally. "Hm, very well. It's him. Smaller, but obviously no less loud."

"As if there was any doubt," Yue Qingyuan said cheerfully, all signs of any reproach gone like they'd never been there. He took a moment to sit down in Mobei-Jun's chair once more, Liu Qingge leaning against a bookcase nearby. "Shang-shidi, are you alright?"

"Just a little shaken, sect leader," Shang Qinghua said as he fixed his clothes, trying to prevent them from dragging on the 'floor' so obviously. Behind him, he could hear the rustle of silk that told him that Cucumber had taken his usual chair, leaving him somewhat boxed in from three sides. "But no harm done, right Liu-shidi?"

The war god glanced down at him, ears tinged pink at having his mistake pointed out. "No, sect leader. My apologies."

"Good, then that part is settled," Yue Qingyuan said before fixing the shrunken man with a curious, concerned stare. "However, I was told by one of your students that you were keeping this a secret. Fortunately, he thought the situation warranted breaking it. What happened since I saw you last, shidi? Other than your leg mending itself, it seems."

Shang Qinghua grimaced, shrinking under the disappointed older brother gaze. He hadn't even noticed his leg, but right then? It really didn't seem like much of a consolation prize! "Right, leg. Yes. But the rest I don't know! I was being good and staying home, only my disciples coming in and out, and then I woke up at my desk like this!"

"You didn't take anything weird, did you? No gifted plants from your... exotic trade partners?" Shen Qingqiu asked. As if everyone in the room didn't know by now that he meant his demon trade partners.

"I haven't even been in contact with any of my network since a few months ago," he said with a sigh, shaking his head. Kind of hard to be when he'd been on the run from his king under the impression that Mobei-Jun wanted him dead. "The only thing I've taken has been prescribed by Mu-shidi, and I don't think you're suggesting he did this."

A bamboo fan was flicked at him in response, as clearly calling him an idiot as a flick of a cat's ear. "Of course not. Something you brought in on your clothes then? Or a qi deviation?"

Shang Qinghua started to pace again. "Hope not. I already handed them off to get washed." Stumbling slightly, he pulled up the edge of his 'clothes' to keep from tripping over them. "Don't know if they're really salvageable, but I wanted to at least get the blood out of them. And I've never been prone to qi deviations." Unlike all three in present company. Running a hand through his hair and turning around to start pacing another circle, he had to stop abruptly because there was a hand in front of him. Startled, he looked up at Shen Qingqiu staring down at him. "What is it?"

"Your... robe," the other man said, narrowing his eyes. "It's too long."

He blinked again. That was what his bro was choosing to focus on out of everything? His fashion choices? "I... apologize? I haven't exactly been to a tailor since this happened. I had the kids help me to make this so I didn't have to drag around a full sized one or go flashing anyone."

Green eyes narrowed. "Was it too long when they made it?"

Blanching, Shang Qinghua looked down at the makeshift robes and quickly tried to re-adjust them again, folding the excess fabric over the belt without answering. No, it hadn't been too long. It'd been just the right height because his ducklings had fussed over it multiple times to be sure. It could not be too long now!

Unfortunately, Liu Qingge had reached the same conclusion as his former rival, speaking up. "He's still shrinking."

Nothing else was said for a moment as the fact finally sunk in as indisputable, Shang Qinghua dropping down to sit on his ass, dignity be damned, because his legs weren't going to support him any longer. Shit, was he just going to keep getting smaller until he shrank out of existence? He'd read horror stories like that when he'd actually had time to read. What would happen to him then? Probably get crushed to death by a piece of paper being dropped onto him because no one could see him and-

A hand on his back brought his thoughts to a stop. A hand that covered at least half his back. Swallowing, he looked up at his concerned sect leader, who'd noticed his spiral into panic. He gave him a nod of wordless thanks. Best kind of big brother type, that was sure.

"Sect leader, I think it's clear that Shang Qinghua shouldn't be staying on his own until a solution to this is found," Shen Qingqiu said, looking down at his fellow transmigrator.

The older man nodded. "I agree. Shang-shidi, perhaps it would be best to return you to Qian Cao."

"No, I don't want to trouble Mu-shidi like that," Shang Qinghua said quickly, pictures of bug collection pins and science experiments dancing in his head. Realistic, probably not, but tell that to his nerves.

"Very well. In that case, I would be happy to host-"

"He will stay with me," Shen Qingqiu said, interrupting. "No offense, sect leader, but I have seen the state of your plants. And with the new treaties, I'm sure you'll be busy."

Surprised, Yue Qingyuan nevertheless nodded his head. "Very well. I wasn't aware that the two of you were so close."

"We have some things in common, that's all." Fan coming up to cover his face, Shen Qingqiu glanced over it. "And I'm sure the quiet will aid in his recovery."

"Don't I get any say in this?" Shang Qinghua muttered under his breath, only to get a look shot his way over the painted bamboo. "I mean, that's very kind of you, Shixiong."

The sect leader rose gracefully to his feet, stepping back politely to keep from completely towering over Shang Qinghua. Just mostly. "That will be that then. Shang-shidi, I hope this resolves quickly and well. And I trust that you will notify Mu-shidi of what's happened." The 'or I will' went unsaid but was heard clearly despite that. "I also trust that you will leave the work to your disciples until you're better, since this is somewhat more serious than your previous condition."

"Don't worry, Yue-shixiong, we won't be bringing any An Ding forms to my house," Shen Qingqiu said with a nod. "Shang-shidi, is there anything you do want to bring? Other than a change of clothes, in case this resolves itself."

Oh, good thinking Cucumber. He could just picture suddenly growing out of the scrap of silk he was wearing now, and getting immediately vaporized by the heat of Binghe's jealousy for daring to be naked near his husband.

Which brought him right up against a fresh worry. "Just Mu-shidi's medicines. But um... Shixiong, are you staying at your house alone right now?"

"Binghe had to go attend to some matters in the demon realm," Shen Qingqiu said, answering the real question. "He'll be busy for a few days, so I asked to come back here instead of being left in the palace."

"Ah. That was... probably a good idea." And it was a very good thing that he wasn't going to be playing unwanted and unwelcome third wheel to their honeymoon date. It'd been pretty clear when he'd run into them before that Binghe was jealous of his husband's time (even if he still had dreams about the food). And Shang Qinghua very, very much not blind to the fact that he was kind of small and easier to break right now. "Hopefully he'll recognize me quicker if I'm still like this when he gets back."

"I'll be sure to warn him," Shen Qingqiu said. Meaning he'd be sure to warn Shang Qinghua before he walked into a death sentence.

Having gathered up the teas, Yue Qingyuan helpfully bundled them up with a set of silks Shang Qinghua just had to assume were clothes he'd grabbed while he was distracted worrying about death by vinegar, and offered them to Shen Qingqiu. "If you need any assistance, do let me know."

"I'm certain we'll be fine." Waiting for the other two to lead the way, Shen Qingqiu went to follow before glancing down at his new charge. "Come on."

"I'm coming, hang on." Climbing through the damaged door frame, he sighed. "Someone make sure to have my head disciple get that fixed? There are things in there that really can't be left to the elements. And I don't want the littles running in without supervision."

"I'll see to it before I return home," Yue Qingyuan said with a nod. "Perhaps later you can show me how the wards you use on it work."

"Not well enough to keep certain unnamed hotheads from breaking it down, but sure, we'll have tea," Shang Qinghua said, giving Liu Qingge a look that was ignored. What did that man have against doors anyway? He didn't have time to ask, however, because he had to hurry to catch up to his apparent babysitter, holding his 'robe' to keep it from dragging on the ground and tripping him. "Shen-shixiong, slow down!"

"Try to keep up," Shen Qingqiu told him, tucking the supplies tidily into his sleeves.

"Bro, easy for you to say. My legs are a chi at the most long and I'm barefoot!" he protested, unable to get close enough to swat him without risking getting caught up in the other's robes. "And these clothes aren't exactly layered! Do you want me flashing my legs at every- ack!"

Stopping mid stride, Shen Qingqiu had turned and scooped him up without a word (again!), tucking the author into his arms before continuing on his way without a word.

"A little warning..." Shang Qinghua gasped, catching his breath.

The other transmigrator snorted. "Would you rather walk? Stop complaining."

"No, no, this is fine," he said quickly. Fuck, he'd better not get any smaller. Being picked up so easily like this was not good for his heart. Even easier than usual! He was just glad that it'd happened after he and Mobei had cleared up the whole beatings issue or he'd be dead! Shang Qinghua stayed quiet for a bit, holding still to try and avoid attracting attention. He wasn't particularly hidden as he was carried across the rainbow bridge from his peak to Qing Jing Peak, and Cucumber drew eyes all on his own.

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?" he asked after a while of silence. "Guess I should be glad that cameras haven't been invented yet."

"It could be worse. At least you look like an adult still," Shen Qingqiu said, glancing down at him. "Well, mostly like an adult. You might have a worse time with being mistaken for a disciple like this. Or their doll..."

"Not even funny, bro." And far too on the nose. Shang Qinghua still had people thinking he was a disciple unless he was dressed up in full regalia. Not his ducklings, for the most part, but new disciples, merchants who didn't know him personally, visiting instructors... It didn't even get him out of work because they saw an An Ding uniform and were ready to give him more labor to do!

"It is a little."

"Ass."

"Hack."

He stomped on the powerful urge to reach up and poke the other man right in that big hicky just peeking out of the collar of his robes. He didn't want dropped and made to walk the rest of the way. No matter how embarrassing being carried was. At least Shen Qingqiu took the slightly longer route around the training yard, avoiding the bulk of his disciples, who would have had a hard time not noticing the miniature peak lord he was carrying.

Only once they were safely on the familiar and thankfully isolated path to the Bamboo House did the Qing Jing peak lord speak up again, his voice low so it wouldn't carry. "Has it said anything about this?"

Between the two of them, they didn't need to clarify what it meant. The System. That thing that'd been the bane of their existences since arriving in this world.

Shang Qinghua searched through his recent memories. "It came up with an optional mission the other day. Didn't say what it was, just that I'd have to see it through if I started it."

Shen Qingqiu stared down at him. "You didn't agree, did you?"

"Of course not! I waved the window away and it didn't try to bring it up again," the author said with a snort. "After all that shit it put me through, you think I'd willingly put up with a mission again? I was hungover on top of it, and no one needs to deal with that thing and a hangover."

"I still don't trust it, end of story or not. You're sure this wasn't a wife plot of some kind? Maybe one from the drafts that didn't make it in?"

"Bro, I've told you I don't remember every plot I wrote," Shang Qinghua said. "The world-building, sure. Critical character backstories? Fuck yes. But the stuff that the readers were demanding? After you've written a hundred bouncing sets of tits, they run together."

"Which is why your writing turned from an interesting premise to utter drivel," Shen Qingqiu scolded, opening his door and carrying Shang Qinghua inside. He set the bundle down on the table before holding the other up to stare at.

Fighting the urge to squirm his way free when he was being dangled (dangled!) up in the air, the author stared back, feeling the sweat roll down his back with nerves. Fuck, Cucumber hadn't been putting on a face so he could finally get his revenge on him, had he? "Bro?"

"We need to get a baseline for your current height," he said, abruptly setting Shang Qinghua down on the floor and sweeping over to a cabinet, digging through a drawer.

The logistics master let out a secret breath. Right, he wasn't going to kill him when two other peak lords knew he was there. Or at all, really! They were kind of friends by now, after all, right? And friends helped out friends when they were in weird freaky situations instead of plotting to off them when they were alone.

Finding what he'd been searching for, Shen Qingqiu returned and knelt down next to the author, stretching out a measuring string alongside him.

"I'm not sure I want to ask," Shang Qinghua said, staring at the string and counting the knots regardless.

"Fifteen cun," Shen Qingqiu said, finishing his own count out loud. "How big were you when you first noticed you'd shrunk?"

Swallowing, the author couldn't pull his eyes away from the damning string until his fellow transmigrator rolled it into his fingers and out of sight. Only then did he pay attention to the fact that he was waiting for an answer. "Oh. Uh, about two chi? I didn't measure, but I was just a bit taller than my desk."

"So you've shrunk by a quarter of what you were then." For being his biggest anti-fan, Shen Qingqiu actually looked worried as he stared down at him, up until his usual fan came up to hide any such expressions. "What the hell did you get yourself into, Airplane?"

"Bro, I was being good! Just sitting in my house, minding my own business," he protested, shaking that idea of Cucumber worried about him right on out of his mind. Nope, not going there. "Sure, I snuck out to my desk after Mu-shidi practically tucked me into bed and left, but if staying up late to get some work done was going to shrink me, I'd have shrunk down out of existence a long time ago!"

Shen Qingqiu flinched, his fan twitching dangerously in his hand in a way that had Shang Qinghua ducking with pure, trained instinct. But the usually deadly weapon didn't strike down, no matter how the knuckles gripping it turned white. "Don't suggest that. Just... don't."

"Right, sorry," Shang Qinghua said, taking a step back to get out of fan reach anyway, just in case. Not that anywhere was really out of reach. Those things could easily cross a room with deadly precision, and had more than once come for his head. He just hoped that his bro remembered he was smaller right now, and that thing was looking more and more like a wall coming at him.

"Take me through everything that's gone on for the last few days, step by step," Shen Qingqiu said, reclaiming his composure as if he'd never lost it. "There must be something that you did. An herb you were exposed to, something that could have triggered a qi deviation. It's a stretch, but after seeing Binghe's, I'm willing to keep it as a possibility."

"Qi deviations don't tend to keep running like this," the author pointed out, worrying at the fabric of his 'robes.' At least that was one thing he was pretty mostly sure of. "When they have weird effects, they usually hit, linger, and fade away. Assuming they don't kill you or drive you into a murderous rage of course. Which, obviously, hasn't happened."

Sighing, the other transmigrator nodded. "That would match Binghe's. Too bad. It would have been such an easy explanation."

"You know me, I don't do easy," Shang Qinghua said, his smile weak as he sat down on the floor. "Fuck, this is a mess. Okay, last few days. I nearly got killed dealing with Mobei's relatives, he saved me and got Mu-shidi for me. Which, really nice of him. My favorite shidi and his students brought me up to Qian Cao, patched me up, and the sect leader took me back to my house. Which is where I stayed until Liu-shidi broke in. And what was that about anyway? I do not remember writing about him having a personal vendetta against every door he meets. Anyway, my beloved disciples came to my rescue and one went running for the sect leader, who you apparently followed up to An Ding to see me. You saw the rest."

"And where in that series of events did you start shrinking?" Shen Qingqiu asked, watching him with a close eye. Which was not doing much help for his already bad anxiety.

"Sometime between falling asleep at my desk after Mu Qingfang’s visit and waking up in the morning," he said. "I slept like a log so I couldn’t tell you when with more detail than that."

The other transmigrator thought it over for a moment. "That does sound a bit like how Binghe’s qi deviation went. Normal when he went to sleep, a child when he woke up."

"Yeah, but he got older again as time went on, not younger! And I’m still getting smaller! Stupid golden halo." Shang Qinghua pulled on his hair at the unfairness of it all. He’d created this world! It shouldn’t be so against him all the time!

They were interrupted from talking further by a quiet knock on the door and a voice calling out. "Shizun, may I come in?"

Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders relaxed, a small smile forming automatically as he rose up to his feet to get the door. "Ning Yingying. Come in."

The young woman bowed before stepping inside. "Thank you, Shizun. I’m sorry to disturb you but I wanted to personally welcome you- oh!" The gasp came when she finally glanced away from her teacher and spotted the other peak lord in the room. The very small peak lord. "Shang-shishu?!"

"Ning-shizhi," Shang Qinghua greeted faintly, not rising from his spot. It would have been polite, but he figured he could be forgiven considering the circumstances.

Looking back and forth between the two, she seemed to struggle to decide on who to actually look at. "Is it… is it a qi deviation? Like Luo Binghe’s?"

"We’re still trying to figure that part out," Shen Qingqiu said. "Actually, you came at the perfect time. Would you send for Mu-shidi? I think his care is going to be essential in this."

Shang Qinghua jerked, staring at him with betrayal. "What-"

"You told the Sect Leader that you would speak to him. And now seems like a particularly good time," Shen Qingqiu said firmly, obviously not planning to listen to any argument. He looked to his student, giving her a gentle smile. "Do you mind? This master would go, but we agreed that your shishu should not be left unsupervised for the moment."

Ning Yingying shook her head quickly. "Not at all. I will go fetch him right away." And she was out of the door.

"Bro…" Shang Qinghua whined, gripping the fabric of his robes tightly in both hands.

"I don’t want to hear it. He should have been the first person you reached out to when you woke up like this."

Shang Qinghua stared up at him. "Are you… actually worried about me?"

The fan immediately came up to hide the other man’s face. "Of course not."

"You are!"

"Don’t be ridiculous."

"You’re worried about me." Shang Qinghua didn’t know why that made him grin so much, climbing to his feet and hiking his robe up so he could walk towards his towering fellow transmigrator. "That means you actually care. Which means you actually like me."

"Who likes you? Do I look like one of your incel fanboys? I don’t think so," Shen Qingqiu scoffed, turning away to walk back to his seat. "I’m just making sure you stay alive because Binghe would lose a powerful ally if you kicked it and Mobei went nuts."

"You keep telling yourself that, bro," Shang Qinghua said, snickering. Cucumber had to be the most tsundere person he’d ever met in real life. Mostly real life. He marched over to the spare seat at the table, trying to hoist himself up onto it.

The fact that it was harder the second time he tried went a long ways in taking the smile back off his face.

"Um, bro…"

Shen Qingqiu looked down at him from across the table, raising an eyebrow. "What now?"

"I think it’s speeding up," he said, his stomach sinking.

That got Shen Qingqiu’s attention. He jerked upright, his gaze sharp. "Come here. I’ll measure you again."

No longer caring one bit about the chair, Shang Qinghua scurried around the table towards his bro until he was snatched up by a pair of hands and lifted onto the table. He swayed as he caught his breath, feet back under him. Pretending that he hadn’t noticed those hands being larger than last time.

Pulling out the measuring string again, Shen Qingqiu’s face was grim as he straightened it out.

"Twelve cun. You’ve lost three since we got here."

"Fuck." Shang Qinghua started to pace a tight circle. He’d been joking about the idea of shrinking out of existence earlier, but that possibility sounded like it was getting bigger and bigger. "Fuck!"

"You should try to calm down. Whether or not it’s a qi deviation, you don’t want to stress yourself into one," Shen Qingqiu said. "By now, Mu-shidi is probably already on his way. He’ll be able to figure something out."

He stared up at him. "Bro, the fact that I’m not running into walls screaming means that I’m about as calm as I’m gonna get right now!"

"Maybe some of that tea will help. Stay put, I’ll make some while we’re waiting for him." Leaving the shrinking man on the table, Shen Qingqiu ducked into the kitchen, leaving the door open to maintain as much of a line of sight as he could. Just in case.

Without a familiar face to focus on, Shang Qinghua continued his pacing before dropping down to sit on the table, palms pressed to his eyes. How was this fair? He’d just barely managed to survive two major fights with a very scary demon, just got back to the sect that somehow allowed him back, and just maybe settled things with Mobei. And now he wasn’t going to even get to enjoy it for very long!

By the time the water boiled and the tea was brewed, Shang Qinghua knew he’d gotten smaller still. There was a small imperfection on the table, and it’d grown larger as he stared at it. Shen Qingqiu had just set the pot down on the table when there was another knock on the door. He didn’t dally in answering it, quickly ushering Mu Qingfang inside.

"Shang-shixiong, what happened to you?" he asked, spotting his troubling patient immediately. The doctor knelt down by the table, putting out a hand.

Shang Qinghua tried not to hesitate putting his hand in it, and then tried not to think about the growing size difference. The shiver of qi running through him from their connected hands as he was examined was a welcome distraction. "I don’t know. I woke up like this the morning after we last spoke. Well, not this small, but I haven’t stopped shrinking."

"Is it a qi deviation?" Shen Qingqiu asked. "After the one Binghe had, it doesn’t seem that strange."

Mu Qingfang shook his head. "He doesn’t show the signs of one. I think this is more likely to be an external cause."

"A curse?" Feeling his own surge of stress at the idea of someone running around casting shrinking curses, Shen Qingqiu poured two cups of the calming tea. He doubted it would do him any harm to keep a cool head in this situation.

"Not likely. They tend to leave-" Mu Qingfang stopped, catching a whiff of the tea. "What is that?"

"It’s just the calming tea you sent me," Shang Qinghua said, reaching for the tiny dish that his bro must have found in the kitchen for him. He jumped with a little yelp when the doctor’s hand shot out and snatched it away from him.

"Calming tea is one of the most common medicines asked for from my peak," Mu Qingfang said, carefully sniffing the cup before his eyes widened in alarm. "And it does not smell like this. Something is wrong with it. Where is the box?"

Shen Qingqiu eyeballed the tea he’d been about to take a sip of as well before setting the cup far from himself and standing up. "In the kitchen. This master will fetch it." He practically ran the short distance, for once not worrying overly much about his graceful immortal facade. Box in hand, he put it down in front of the doctor. "Here."

Without letting go of Shang Qinghua’s hand, Mu Qingfang used his other to open the box, using the handle of one of Shen Qingqiu’s nearby writing brushes to sort through the bits of dried herbs and flowers until he found what he was looking for. Which turned out to be a tiny flower that’d escaped being crushed in the processing.

"This doesn’t belong here," he said with a deepening frown. "It looks similar to one of the ingredients, but the shape of the petals is wrong. I regret to say that this may have been caused by my peak."

"What is it?" Shen Qingqiu asked, leaning in to get a closer look at the flower. It didn’t match the description of any of the papapa flowers he’d read about, or even the tamer sorts that were written in to make Binghe more OP, or explain a maiden’s delicate condition.

"I would have to send it to my students to find the precise herb, but at the moment it’s more important to get any that Shang-shixiong has ingested," Mu Qingfang said, looking down at his patient. Noting that he’d lost more height. So, they’d been correct in the idea that he was still growing smaller. It meant this was more urgent. "My best recommendation is to burn it out of your system, Shixiong. It may not be comfortable, but it should at least give us more time to investigate the guilty flower, and see about reversing the effects."

"You’re the expert," Shang Qinghua said, his face growing pale. The phrase ‘burning it out of you’ was never one that sounded very pleasant. But it was better than ‘shrink out of existence,’ so! "Do what you have to."

Mu Qingfang nodded. "Very well. Please take a deep breath and relax as best you can. This will work easier if your energy doesn’t fight mine. Shen-shixiong, please stay nearby. I may need your assistance."

Shang Qinghua barely heard Shen Qingqiu’s murmured agreement because he was immediately distracted by a flood of qi through his body, shocking a gasp out of him. He squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth, trying to focus all of his tension there instead of inward. It felt hot, so different than the usual cool sensation of the doctor’s examinations.

"You’re doing good," Mu Qingfang whispered. "Tell me if you need something to bite down on."

Almost as soon as he’d nodded, a bundle of soft silk ribbon was presented in front of his face, and he locked his teeth around it.

It should have been warning enough for what was to come, but Shang Qinghua still let out a muffled cry when the heat began to burn, making his head spin as he slumped against Mu Qingfang's hold on his hand. Someone helped him to lay down on the table without breaking the contact, and he vaguely heard words pass over him that he didn't care to make out. At one point, his other hand was taken between fingers that were too large, a line of cooler qi running over him like a cold towel on his forehead.

How long they worked on him, he had no idea. Because Shang Qinghua passed out before much longer, going limp.

"Mu-shidi," Shen Qingqiu said, alarmed.

"Keep feeding your qi," the doctor said with deliberate, forced calm. He couldn't afford to get stressed and distracted when he was chasing the bits of herb that Shang Qinghua had ingested. Because he'd trusted his doctor's care. "This will make it easier on him."

Shen Qingqiu nodded, taking a deep breath. He could see how small Shang Qinghua had gotten, feeling the hand between his fingertips. Maybe he'd denied it earlier, but Airplane was the only other person from the world they'd been from, and maybe, maybe he did think of him as a friend. So of course he was worried.

Ning Yingying and Ming Fan stopped by at one point, bringing them water before hovering out of the way for a while, hoping for something they could help with, before slipping out again. It didn't change the fact that the first rays of sunlight were creeping in through the window before Mu Qingfang straightened up with a sigh of relief, touching Shen Qingqiu's hand lightly.

"That's enough, Shixiong," he said. "The last traces of it are gone."

Shen Qingqiu's fingers were stiff as they released Shang Qinghua's hand, letting it fall onto the table. The hand that was still small as ever. "But he's still small."

"Removing the herb merely stopped the effects from worsening," Mu Qingfang explained. "He will still need to recover, but he shouldn't shrink any more."

"How long will that take?" Shen Qingqiu asked, tearing his eyes away from his friend’s tiny body. He couldn’t be much longer than his hand, if that.

"Until I pin down the herb that got into his tea, it’s hard to say, but other than his size, he should be fine once he wakes up," the doctor said, rising slowly to his feet. "I’ll take it with me to examine. It should be safe to still give him the other one, but keep an eye on him when you do just in case." He pulled a talisman from his robes, one that was more than familiar to the transmigrator. "Summon me if anything happens."

"Of course."

Bowing his head, Mu Qingfang took one more look at his patient before sweeping out the door with the box of tea in hand and no plan to sleep until he figured out where his medicine had gone wrong in harming one of his shixiong.

Looking down at the other transmigrator, Shen Qingqiu felt exhaustion begin to take over. On one side, he didn't know how well he'd be able to rest with the stress of worry hanging over him. And he wanted to be there when Airplane woke up, because he knew he was going to panic. But while Binghe'd cured his Without a Cure (thoroughly), he still wasn't used to spending a whole night feeding qi into someone. That was Mu Qingfang's experience, not his own.

With a sigh, he carefully lifted Shang Qinghua into his hand, cupping both around him to be absolutely sure there was no way that he could fall. He, for one, was not going to sleep in the sitting room when there was a perfectly good bed just a room away, and he could sacrifice a pillow for a friend.

Still, the idea of having Airplane actually on the bed with him was a bit too weird and cozy, so he placed the pillow on the floor beside it, completely ignoring any similarities it had to a pet bed. Nope, not going there. But it was soft enough, and the robe that Shang Qinghua had been wearing was now plenty large enough to be a blanket.

They could address the clothing issue tomorrow.

They could address a lot of issues tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua sighed contently as he stirred awake, rolling over on what had to be the softest bed he'd ever slept in in his life. Seriously, like laying on a mound of pillow top mattresses cross bred with fluffy clouds. Was this heaven? It felt like heaven.

It was tempting to just roll back over and return to sleep, but since when did he have the time to do that? Paperwork waited, and his disciples would be knocking on his door any moment now. So he reluctantly sat up, rubbing his eyes with the back of a hand, the other covering a yawn.

When he opened his eyes, he immediately regretted not taking the go back to sleep option.

For one, he was reminded very firmly about what'd happened to him, the room looming high around him. For the other, he was made very, very aware of the fact that he'd reached an all-time record of smallest cultivator. The bed was a pillow, and he could see a real one standing higher than his head, with a giant sleeping on top of it, long black braid spilling off over the edge.

No matter how unfamiliar the room was, the soft green of the blanket told him whose it was. Meaning that the giant... was his best friend and biggest anti-fan. Literally biggest.

He wasn't sure when he began to hyperventilate, head spinning as he tried to suck in enough air, his eyes wide and the blood draining out of his face. It'd been bad enough before, when he'd woken up at knee height. Now... could he even reach someone's knee?! No one knew better than him how dangerous it was in this world than its creator, and that went tenfold when you were small and bite sized to even regular animals!

"Shit, shit, shit," he started to babble, not sure if he should dive under the silk 'blanket' over him, run for cover someplace, or just freeze in place and not move in case something was watching for easy prey to pounce on and devour. The fact that he was inside wasn't all that much of an encouragement. He knew that little monster that Liu Qingge had gifted Shen Qingqiu was never that far away. What if it got inside? What did it even eat? Did it eat meat? Did it really want to eat human meat but figured regular humans were too big to go after and wanted something smaller? Or did it just not eat humans dressed in green? What if something else got in? What if-

"Airplane, breathe."

Shang Qinghua jumped, staring up at the face leaning over the edge of the bed. It took his mind a moment to catch up enough to recognize Cucumber's face looking down at him, waiting for him to calm down. He tried to catch his breath, idly noticing that his hands were shaking before he shoved them under the blanket to hide them.

"You okay?" Cucumber asked after a minute.

"I'm... still deciding that," he said slowly, feeling numb with the wake of the panic. "I got smaller."

The other man grimaced, but nodded. "Yeah. But you've stopped shrinking. Mu-shidi says he burnt all of the herb out of you, and he's figuring out what happened. It just might take a while to recover."

That wasn't exactly good news, taking time to recover. He'd have much rather woken up big and back to normal so he could have relegated this whole thing as a weird but forgettable experience. But it was better than 'sorry, you're tiny forever so we built a hamster cage for you to live in as the An Ding class pet.'

"So what does that mean for what comes next?" Shang Qinghua risked asking. Looking down, he noted (with some horror) the fact that his 'blanket' turned out to be the 'robe' he'd been trying to wear, which was far too big for him now. Also meaning that he wasn't wearing a shirt. He quickly grabbed the edge, pulling it up for modesty. "Other than hopefully getting me something to wear."

Shen Qingqiu snorted softly. At least someone found it funny. "Yeah, that will probably be the first priority. And then breakfast. You probably shouldn't try to practice inedia when you're like this."

"Never been too fond of it anyway," the author agreed. Between his lousy cultivation and high stress jobs, not being able to eat was a miserable damn experience.

"In that case, stay put and I'll find something we can cut up for you," Shen Qingqiu said with a nod. He moved back from the edge of the bed before sitting up and swinging his legs over so he could stand up. Shang Qinghua looked away from the confirmation that while sitting he probably didn't even reach the other man's ankles.

Shen Qingqiu dug through a basket on the other side of the room for a moment, snatching something out and taking it to the main room. While he was gone, Shang Qinghua flopped back on the pillow again, staring up at the distant ceiling. What else could he do like this? He couldn't do any of his paperwork, meaning it was just going to get more backed up. Maybe he could delegate more to his disciples, if he was there to keep an eye on them. It wasn't as if everyone on the peak didn't know already. Hell, he'd been carried here out in the open. He wouldn't be surprised if everyone on the mountain knew.

At least... at least his king didn't know. He was completely useless to him right now. He couldn't spy anymore, not when the sect knew about his dealings with the demons now. Sure, he still knew plenty of useful things about Mobei's rivals in court and tons of merchants and demon clans, but the idea of going to the demon realm this small... sent an icy chill down his spine that had nothing to do with his king's powers. He'd get sniffed out and snuffed out in a heartbeat. Most of his assistants only liked him half the time, and that was when he had half a chance at defending himself. They'd probably outright eat him given half a shot now.

When Shen Qingqiu returned to the bedroom, he had his outer robes on, but hadn't done up his hair yet. He also had a bit of green silk in his hands that he offered down to Shang Qinghua. "Sorry it's the wrong color, but it's what I had on hand."

Shang Qinghua spread it out, blinking at it in surprise. He recognized the fine bamboo patterned silk as from one of the other transmigrator's favored robes. Hard not to, when Shen Qingqiu had had him track the material down in bulk at one point. Which hadn't been easy. And it wasn't just a cut wrap like the one he'd put together. There were actually stitches down the side. They weren't the most even, speaking of hurried work with an inexperienced needle, but it was sewn. And there was even a matching length of ribbon for a belt.

"Bro, you actually sewed this for me?" he asked, looking up at him. When Shen Qingqiu made a point of looking away, he finally felt a grin returning to his face. "Knew you cared about me."

"Oh hush. Just put it on so I don't have to stare at you looking like some tiny flasher rushing around my house," Shen Qingqiu said with a huff, standing up again. "I'll warm something up for breakfast. Just come out when you're dressed."

"The more you protest, the more I know you're full of shit," Shang Qinghua called after his retreating back. He waited until he was alone to push off his blanket, standing shakily on the soft pillow. Which, by the way? Only good part about this whole thing. The robe was a little wonky as he pulled it around himself, but it covered everything and had enough overlap that his legs didn't flash out when he walked. Good enough!

He combed his fingers through his hair as he made the long trek across the floor, walking quickly. Somehow, the idea of following Mu Qingfang's instructs to stay with someone most of the time didn't seem like a very bad idea. As long as Cucumber remembered not to smack him with that fan of his, it'd be safe with him. At least in theory. Once Binghe came back, that might become a different story. But he wasn't there now, so for now he was safe!

Shen Qingqiu was setting a gentle steaming bowl of food on the table along with a cup of tea by the time Shang Qinghua got there. He served a small portion from each to set aside before hesitantly offering a hand down to the author.

"This is so weird," Shang Qinghua said, swallowing as he stepped up onto the hand, quickly sitting down when it started to move.

"You're telling me." Bringing him up to the table, Shen Qingqiu held still until the other had had a chance to scramble back out of his hand, shaking it out to get rid of the weird sensation. "Eat before it gets cold."

"It's not going to poison me, is it?" Shang Qinghua asked, keeping a close eye on the fan that twitched his way on reflex.

He couldn't smack Airplane right now, Shen Qingqiu reminded himself firmly, moving the fan out of his hand and out of casual reach. "Don't be stupid. Binghe cooked it before he left."

"Bro!" No one had to tell him that twice! Shang Qinghua dove into the meal, awkwardly using a pair of pins as chopsticks. Like he was ever going to turn down getting to eat his son's cooking. Shoving it into his mouth, he felt tears come to his eyes. So good!

Chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth, Shen Qingqiu looked at him before snickering. "You look like a chipmunk."

Shang Qinghua's hands were too busy eating to make the rude gesture he was thinking about, so he just stuck out his tongue in the brief moment between swallowing one mouthful and shoving in the next. Cucumber got to eat like this all the time. He probably didn't even realize how special it was, spoiled brat.

Snorting, the other man went back to eating the rest of the bowl. "At least you're happy about something. I don't cook much, so Binghe left me a couple dishes under stasis spells for while he was gone."

Peering into the little dish that had, somehow, become disappointingly empty, Shang Qinghua glanced up at his friend with a raised eyebrow. "Just how many is a 'couple?'" Shen Qingqiu's nonresponse of clearing his throat and distracting him with another serving was answer enough. There was probably a near banquet worth waiting in the kitchen. In case the peak lord got peckish. "You really are spoiled, bro."

"You've tasted the food they serve on this peak," Shen Qingqiu said with a huff. "It's so bland that I might as well live on plain rice. Depending on Binghe's food is a defense mechanism. And considering what I went through to get to this, it's well earned."

"Please, you were dining like a king before Binghe's black lotus stage too," Shang Qinghua said, rolling his eyes. "I'm still waiting for my king to cook for me. He promised to, you know."

It was Shen Qingqiu's turn to do the eyeballing. "Mobei-Jun promised to cook for you?"

Nodding, the shrunken man cleared his mouth again to speak. "Yep. Just before I got brought back here. We had a big fight and I made it one of my employment conditions. Was feeling extra bold, you know?"

"An employment condition..." Shen Qingqiu said slowly, doubt all over his tone. "Right."

"What?" Shang Qinghua frowned, looking at him. "What's so weird about it?"

He shook his head, crossing his hands in front of himself. "Nope, I'm not going to say anything. You can figure it out yourself."

"You're being weird, bro."

"Kettle, pot, Airplane. Drink your tea. Once you're done, Mu-shidi wanted you to keep taking your qi replenishment tea too."

Shang Qinghua paused, unable to ignore the feeling of worry that settled in. "He’s sure it's not going to start things over again?" Because he did not want to get any smaller. This was bad enough as it was.

"He said to keep a close eye on you with the first dose, but that it shouldn't do anything," Shen Qingqiu admitted. He waited until the small dish was empty again before gathering them both up and standing. "I'll get it ready. Do... do you want to stay here or come with me?"

"Don't think I want to try running after you right after eating, bro," Shang Qinghua said with a snicker, leaning back. Oof, he'd probably eaten too much for that early in the day, but it'd been so good. "I'll be good here."

The Qing Jing peak lord snorted. "That's not what I meant. I'd carry you. But sure, stay put. I'll be right back."

Shang Qinghua just waved him off. Nope, he wasn't quite ready to be carried around just yet. The long-practiced practical side of his brain knew that it would come soon, but could anyone blame him for putting it off as long as possible?

True to Mu Qingfang's theory, nothing happened when he drank the qi replenishment tea, and nothing continued to happen for the hour after, during while Shen Qingqiu read through a stack of reports that had been above Ming Fan's authority to handle while he was gone. Shang Qinghua didn't shrink any further, he didn't have any other side effects except for the expected little energy boost. Disappointingly, he also didn't grow any taller, but neither of them had expected him to. The medicine wasn't any kind of poison antidote, after all.

The only issue that came up, really, was that he was getting really bored. Like, really, really bored. He started fidgeting in the spot he'd claimed as his to sit on, out of the way of Cucumber's papers, leaning up against the warm pot of tea that his bro had brought in.

Which was when a humongous ink stick was shoved at him.

"Um, bro?" he asked, looking past the stick to Shen Qingqiu.

"If you're going to keep wiggling around, you can put some work in," Shen Qingqiu said, likewise pushing the ink stone over to him. "Try not to make a mess."

"Do I look like a professional ink grinder?" he asked dryly, still staring at the ink stick.

"You look like a desk fidget toy, except you're doing the fidgeting yourself," the other said with a snort. "I stayed up all night for you. You can put in a little work to pay it back."

"I'll have you know, this is abuse of scale," Shang Qinghua complained, taking the stick. "It's gonna stain these robes all over."

"That's fine. I can't exactly sew it back on, and Binghe destroyed the original robe anyway."

Binghe destroyed- Wait. He coughed, picking at the fabric. "Dude, tell me you washed it after." Because there were some things he did not want exposed to when it came to his son and friend, thank you very much!

"Don't be a pervert!"

Shang Qinghua casually flipped him off. "I'm not the one giving my friends recycled robes, torn off by my horny husband."

"Who said you were my friend?!"

-

True to warning, Shang Qinghua's sleeves were hopelessly stained with black ink within the hour, along with his hands and, somehow, a stripe down his cheek. Shen Qingqiu had to keep from snickering when he glanced over his way, marking his way through a stack of papers with the helpfully fresh ground ink. Yes, he could have done it himself, but it was honestly funny to see the other peak lord doing it. A little payback for all the shit he'd had to deal with because of Airplane's shitty writing. And it wasn't like it hurt the other man to do it either, so he felt no guilt.

Setting the last of the sheets to dry, he looked him over. "You're a mess, Airplane."

"And whose fault is that?" Shang Qinghua accused with a huff, putting the stick down and very deliberately wiping his hands on the edge of a sheet of paper left close enough to him to reach. Cucumber could just deal with the handprints. "I'm gonna need a bath."

"Do you expect me to draw it for you?" Shen Qingqiu asked, poking him with the back end of his brush.

"I can’t exactly do it myself, bro," Shang Qinghua countered, rolling his eyes. "And if I don’t get to wash up soon, I’m gonna start smelling. And I’m covered in ink because I was helping you anyhow."

"Hmph. You’re lucky I’m feeling nice while you’re so helpless right now," he said with an exaggerated sigh. He rinsed out his brush, setting it aside before rising to his feet. "The kettle might not be all the way cold yet."

"Yes, yes, you’re the ultimate tsundere, I know," Shang Qinghua said, rolling his eyes, then again when the ‘dignified immortal master’ flipped him off over his shoulder.

Shen Qingqiu emerged with a bowl, taking it through to the bedroom before coming back around to the table and holding out his hand again. "Come on, it’ll be faster if I just carry you."

"Do you know how weird that is?" the author asked, making a face. For one thing, it just rubbed in that he was fucking tiny. "Just give me a ride down. I’ll walk."

"You’re going to have to get used to it," Shen Qingqiu pointed out, holding his hand out to him. "Unless you think you’ll be cured by this afternoon, I have a class to teach. And I’m not comfortable leaving you here."

Shang Qinghua hesitated, holding back a grimace. "You can’t have someone else do it?"

"I haven’t been home to teach for too long. Don’t worry, I’ll keep the disciples from getting too close to you." Shen Qingqiu smirked behind his fan. "You could be the class mascot."

"Or I could stay completely out of sight so no one knows I’m there. I’m good at that," Shang Qinghua suggested. "Do it all the time when I’m in the Northern Desert. Great for not dying."

"You’re not going to die sitting in on a music lesson," Shen Qingqiu said with a huff before he ran out of patience and snatched up the other transmigrator, long fingers wrapping around him.

Shang Qinghua hadn’t been expecting that, letting out a yelp as he instinctively tried to pry the fingers open to escape. Oh no, not doing that! "Put me down!"

"Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you," Shen Qingqiu said, carrying him across the room and into the bedroom. He set the tiny man down on the vanity where he’d put the bowl. "See, you’re fine. Now give me a yell when you’re done. I’m not going to sit here and watch you bathe."

"Cucumber, you can be such an asshole," he said, panting as he found his feet again. "I find out what that herb was and I am so sneaking it into your pantry."

"Go ahead and try it. Binghe would hunt you down for the attempt," Shen Qingqiu said sweetly, patting his head with the tip of a finger before Shang Qinghua could slap it away. "I’ll help you do something with that hair when you’re clean."

Shang Qinghua sulked as he was left alone, making sure that the other transmigrator was out of sight before he stripped down and climbed into the ‘tub.’ Taking a bath in a bowl. That had to be a new low. But he hadn’t gotten to wash up since he’d woken up small, so he wasn’t going to suddenly refuse out of spite. No matter how tempting it was.

At least Cucumber had given him some soap. He scrubbed up quickly, the ink coming off of his skin and dying the water black. As much as a soak sounded like it would be a good idea, he didn’t want to be dyed gray all over from it.

Of course, as he climbed back out, he was faced with a new issue. While he’d been given soap, he hadn’t been given a drying cloth. And climbing down to find one was out of the question. Shang Qinghua sighed, squeezing as much water out of his hair before pulling on the same, ink stained robe. At least it didn’t smell of anything else, and he was used to smelling like ink.

"All clean, bro," he called out, trying to scrunch up the fabric where the dried ink had made it stiff. Somehow, that had never been an obvious problem when he’d been bigger. Because who noticed a stiff spot on your sleeve?

Shen Qingqiu took his time coming in, looking down at him? "Why'd you put that back on? It's dirty."

"Because you didn't give me anything else to wear," Shang Qinghua reminded him, pointing out the obvious. "I can't exactly grab something from your closet, you know."

"Hm, I could make another one. There’s still plenty of fabric," Shen Qingqiu said, tapping his fan on his chin. As he pondered, someone knocked lightly on the front door. "Stay here."

"Not like I can do anything else," he said with a shrug, sitting down on a jewelry box. Probably filled with things from Binghe, knowing his son. They may not have been together long, but the half-breed was clearly making up for lost time.

Soon he could hear the door open, and soft voices drifted in from the front room. Curious, he leaned over to try and get a peek, but the angle was all wrong. Not that he had long to wait, because Shen Qingqiu returned after a short minute, trailing Ning Yingying behind.

"Good morning, Shang-shishu," the young woman said cheerfully, stopping a respectful distance from the vanity and bowing. "I hope you’re feeling better from yesterday."

"A bit. Thank you," Shang Qinghua said. He glanced past her to her shizun, trying to communicate his confusion to the other man without her catching it. But Shen Qingqiu was no help, merely reaching around him to pick up the bowl. "Was there something this master could help you with?"

"Actually, I have something to help you," Ning Yingying said. She dipped her hand into her sleeve, pulling out a handful of cloth bundles which she held out in front of him. "I may need to adjust the fit a little bit, but I thought you might be able to use these while Mu-shishu works on a cure."

Standing up, he carefully inspected the offering, blinking in surprise. "You made me clothes?"

"Hm!"

Indeed, she’d sewn together two full sets of robes, each with a white inner layer. They were still a bit rough, speaking of a quick night of sewing, but the stitches were much smaller and tidier than the one he was wearing now, and even if they were still in Qing Jing colors. Likely what she could find on short notice. And as he picked them up, he spotted the sewn socks and pants underneath.

He hoped being small would keep her from seeing if he got a little misty-eyed. "These look really nice. I hope you didn’t stay up all night just to make them."

"Mingyuan helped me, so it didn’t take long at all," the woman said with a nod, shaking her head. "I can adjust them if they’re still too big if you try them on."

"Sure thing," Shang Qinghua said, giving her a smile. Ning Yingying beamed at him before following Shen Qingqiu out of the room, making sure the door was shut this time. It was one thing if his bro accidentally caught a glimpse of something. It was something entirely different if a proper young lady did!

Of course, the casual way she’d referred to a certain veiled lady cultivator made him wonder just what those girls were getting up to now that they weren’t rivals for love in a harem. Well, good for them.

He quickly yanked off the rough and stained robe, dropping it onto the vanity (and making sure none of the ink had transferred back onto him from it) before reaching for one of the robe sets to pull on. Sure, he’d appreciated his bro making him something to wear, but the two were night and day. And it hadn’t exactly looked like Shen Qingqiu minded either with the way he’d brought her right in. And he’d gotten so used to wearing multiple layers that just the one had felt all but naked. And socks!

There were reasons that she was one of his favorite daughters, even if she didn’t know it. See, Binghe, this is how you show respect to your father!

After a few minutes, the door cracked open again, Cucumber looking in to see if he was decent. Shang Qinghua waved from the vanity. "I’m dressed!"

"Good. There are some things I don’t want to see," Shen Qingqiu teased before straightening up to speak over his shoulder, pushing the door open wider. "You can come back in."

"Oh, it does fit!" Ning Yingying said, slipping back in. She looked like she was only barely stopping herself from coming over and tugging at the clothing to double check her work, walking from side to side in front of the vanity to get multiple angles. "Is it comfortable?"

"It feels great, Ning-shizhi," Shang Qinghua said. "If you ever decided to give up the cultivator life, you would make an excellent tailor."

She covered a laugh, shaking her head. "I don’t think there is much chance of that, but thank you. I could… Would you like some help with your hair too?"

Somehow, he kind of got the idea that he was being given the doll treatment, but when it came to his advantage, how could he refuse? He bowed slightly. "It would be my privilege."

"Don’t spoil him too much," Shen Qingqiu said, watching them.

"Shizun, don’t you have a disciple help you with your hair nearly every day?" Ning Yingying asked, with very deliberate sweetness. She smiled and turned her attention back to her tiny martial uncle when Shen Qingqiu’s fan came up to cover his face instead of responding. "I wasn’t able to make a proper crown, but I brought some of my smallest ribbons. A peak lord should look put together."

Raising his hands in defense, Shen Qingqiu stepped out of the room to leave them to it, keeping the door open for propriety. And hopefully to keep them from conspiring against him.

Producing what had to be the smallest comb Shang Qinghua had ever seen, the disciple carefully worked through his hair, raiding her shizun’s hair oils (just the smallest amount) to help make it smooth and stay in place.

"Do you want your usual bun?" Ning Yingying asked, watching him in the mirror. Proper silver backed glass, because of course Cucumber had the best.

"Probably the easiest, right? They usually stay in place the best," Shang Qinghua said, holding still as she went to work on it. "Ning-shizhi must have had nice dolls as a child."

She laughed softly. "You caught me, Shang-shishu. Shizun brought me one with fine hair when I was little. He doesn’t remember it, I think, but I do. I hope you don’t mind."

"Ah, well, that’s the important part," he said. Yeah, that wouldn’t have been something he included in the book. Not when readers wanted their paper cut-out of a scum villain. Buying dolls for little girls went against that idea. Meaning Cucumber never would have known about it either. "I don’t mind at all. Your shizun is a clever man, but I don’t think this is really his area of expertise. And I didn’t have the tools to do much more than finger comb."

"Then I’ll leave the comb for you, so you can take care of it yourself tomorrow morning," the woman said, carefully tying one of the ribbons around the bun. "There, that ought to do. What do you think?"

Shang Qinghua took a look at himself in the mirror, shaking his head to check the set of the bun. Knowing his luck, he’d be bounced around and tumbled enough that a messy one would fail. He turned around to face her. "It’s perfect. Makes me almost look normal. Aside from the tiny thing at least."

"I’m sure that Mu-shishu will find a cure for you in no time," Ning Yingying said with a confident nod. "There was something more... Oh! I almost forgot. It's not a sword, but I thought you might feel more dressed with something for now too." Digging into her sleeve, she pulled out a slip of pointed metal, a hair pin, and offered it to him, jeweled tip first. "Just in case any of the other disciples give you trouble."

Shang Qinghua held back a snicker as he took the pin, firmly reminded of some books he'd read as a kid. He slipped the pin into the belt, making sure the point didn't snag in his robes. "Perfect, shizhi. I'll give it back once I'm back to normal."

Ning Yingying smiled, nodding her head before she offered a hand. "May I help you to the front room?"

Again, Shang Qinghua hesitated. In the back of his mind, he knew he would have to get used to this until he was back to normal, but something in him still revolted at the idea of being carried in someone’s hand. Their hand. But this time, he swallowed and steeled himself, stepping forward and climbing up into the offered hand. "Thank you."

To her credit, she didn’t grasp him the way that Cucumber had, instead keeping her hand level with its mate hovering nearby like she was protecting a candle from the wind. Or, as was the case this time, protecting a very small and breakable peak lord from falling. Best daughter.

"We’re all done, Shizun," she said cheerfully, holding him up as if presenting him to the other man. When Shen Qingqiu indulgently gave her a nod of approval, Shang Qinghua was brought down to once again sit on the table. "Please send for me if you need anything else made for you, Shang-shishu."

"How could I say no to my favorite shizhi?" Was he above buttering her up for his benefit? Absolutely not. "This master will let you know."

Behind him, Shen Qingqiu was trying so hard to resist the urge to roll his eyes. He could let the other man soak up the attention for a while. For one thing, he knew how much his disciple still loved small and cute things. And while he wasn’t going to call Airplane cute even under the pain of torture, he was certainly small. And small, non-hack-author things were cute.

"Well, I have to go get the younger ones together to practice before class," Ning Yingying said, reluctantly moving away from her living dress up doll. "Will we be seeing you come in with Shizun, Shang-Shishu?"

"Eh… I’m still deciding on that one," Shang Qinghua admitted, chewing on his lip. The bath had rescued him from the subject earlier, but now there were a pair of big eyes making puppy eyes at him. "But since you asked, I suppose I could attend. Just to observe."

She smiled brightly, giving them each a bow. "I’ll talk to the disciples ahead of time then, so they don’t disrupt the class with questions. Until then. Shizun. Shishu."

"You have absolutely no spine for a pair of big eyes, do you?" Shen Qingqiu asked once she was gone.

Shang Qinghua made a face. "As if you have room to talk. Be careful. That girl could weaponize those things at you at any moment and you’d be helpless."

"As if she doesn’t already. I think Binghe learned it from her," Shen Qingqiu said with a sigh. He glanced sideways at the tiny man. "But she did my job convincing you rather tidily. Looks like you won’t be hiding after all."

"No, but if you think I’m going to move so much as a foot away from wherever you’re sitting, you’re absolutely dreaming," Shang Qinghua said. He was still nervous as fuck about it, but between having a guard close by and Ning Yingying impressing on the disciples the dos and don’ts of music lessons with a tiny visiting peak lord in the room, he’d be fine. And he was going to keep reminding himself that he would be fine until they were safely back here and he could hide under the blanket.

Snorting, Shen Qingqiu gathered up his lesson supplies, tucking everything away in his sleeves before once again showing the other man his palm. "Okay, let’s get going."

"You’re not going to grab me again, are you?" Shang Qinghua asked, eyeballing him as he slowly stepped into his hand. It was still weird. It’d been weird with Ning Yingying, but it was even weirder with his bro. He knew where that hand had been!

"Only if you start being a little shit," Shen Qingqiu said, lifting him up. "So… do you want me to carry you in my hand, or on a shoulder or something?"

"Do I look like a parrot?" the author asked. "Actually, wait, don’t answer that. And you know what? Sure, why the fuck not. But if I start to fall, I’m going to be grabbing your hair to save myself."

Shen Qingqiu did roll his eyes this time, bringing his fellow transmigrator up to his shoulder and waiting for him to make the transfer. "I have hair ornaments heavier than you. I don’t think that will be the problem you think it is."

"Just warning you."

Turned out, a shoulder was not the easiest surface to stand on, and Shang Qinghua quickly took a seat up near the other man’s neck for balance and the best shot of not being knocked off by the very hair he planned to grab in that eventuality. For now though, he just grabbed hold of Cucumber’s collar, holding on as he stepped out of the house and began to walk towards the classrooms. And for once, he was super glad for the easy gracefulness the original Shen Qingqiu had left behind in his body for his replacement to pick up. He’d have hated to ride his own shoulder because he was always dodging and weaving and hurrying when he left his peak. Life of a baby-faced logistics master.

The big downside of being carried via peak lord shoulder as he meandered his way to class was that it made Shang Qinghua a lot more visible than he liked. Disciples stopped to stare as they passed, and for once it wasn’t just because Cucumber was waltzing his pretty self by. He wasn’t used to that much attention on him and it already made him antsy. Class was going to be uncomfortable as hell.

Shen Qingqiu swept into the classroom, taking his seat at the front with casual flare before offering Shang Qinghua a hand down from his shoulder.

"Your Shang-shishu is a guest in our classroom today," he said without preamble, well aware that there was no one in the room who hadn't spotted his passenger. "He is to be respected as you respect me, and unbothered. Now, I understand you've been learning a new piece. Each of you will play it in turn when I call on you."

Shang Qinghua felt a little bad for the students, who were forced to present to their (once) fearsome teacher with the distraction of the century sitting there on his desk. Though he supposed it could be worse. Binghe sitting there and watching would have been even more distracting, he'd bet. If only because the man drank a gallon of vinegar every time his husband paid someone else a compliment.

Still, while the amount of staring the kids did whenever their shizun was distracted made Shang Qinghua want to squirm, they never so much as stepped towards him, and even snuck little waves his way. It was cute. And come to think of it, so far it’d been the adults doing most of the grabbing so far! So he didn’t resist the temptation to return the shy waves, pretending like he’d done nothing of the sort should Cucumber’s eye stray over to him. Distracting? Him? Never.

"Stop being a pest," Shen Qingqiu muttered under his breath, his hand twitching. It was obvious that he really, really wanted to give him a fan swat.

"You’re the one who told me to come," Shang Qinghua whispered back, using his hand to hide a tongue sticking out.

"Very mature. Aren’t you supposed to be, what, fifty?"

"Shhh, the kiddies are still playing."

Under the cover of reaching for a fresh sheet of paper, his sleeve blocking their view, Shen Qingqiu poked the other transmigrator in the side. This was his classroom. His students. Airplane was not going to get away with trying to use them against him. The other man swatted at his fingertip, but it didn’t even sting.

By the end of class, once Shang Qinghua ran out of things to do he was very bored. That had to be the unspoken downside of shrinking. You couldn’t do anything! Even he wasn’t exactly sure what he’d do if he could climb down from the desk, so there wasn’t even much point of that. And considering that he was in view, he couldn’t even lay down and take a nap to pass the time.

Annoying.

Chapter Text

It’d been several days since Mobei-Jun had left his servant at the inn and arranged for his sect’s healer to go tend to him. A caring gesture to show Qinghua that he was willing to change his behavior. Clearly, his past methods of handling the small cultivator were lacking cultural understanding.

Therefore, he would change his tactics.

He gave him time to heal, safe with his fellow humans who’d had the wisdom to forgive his transgressions in the service of his king. Wise, but perhaps a little annoying. (Had they not, he would have Qinghua at his palace all the time, but he also knew the human would miss the children in his care and be unhappy. A loss, in the long run.)

Likewise, Mobei-Jun used his time away from his human to begin the process of settling things in court after his ascension. A bit late, perhaps, but he had been busy before. Somehow, he’d known that if he waited to find Qinghua until everything was settled, he never would have. His uncle would have gotten to him, or the human would have, truly, gone someplace he was never going to be able to find him.

And that was unacceptable. He would show Qinghua that he thought well of him.

With a collection of baked sweets that he knew his servant enjoyed held under a stasis spell to protect from the chill of Mobei’s own power as he stepped out from the shadows into Qinghua’s bedroom. It was a practice they’d started on the chance that the peak lord had company in his home when the demon arrived, and he saw no reason to change the practice now that his fellows knew they were in contact.

There was no one in the bedroom, the blankets tossed carelessly to the side and Qinghua’s usual sleeping robe missing from where he tended to dump it after dressing. The silence of the room beyond, however, was telling. Had he fallen asleep at his desk again?

Sliding the door open, Mobei-Jun frowned. One that someone who could read his face may be able to read as concerned. Because not only was Qinghua missing from this room too, but it was in a state of disarray. Not merely the usual mess of paperwork and trinkets.

There had been a fight here.

Piles were tipped over, carpets shoved out of place, tea cups shattered on the floor. Mobei-Jun bent down, picking up the missing sleeping robe, which now had a swath of material torn from the bottom of it. Raising it to his nose, he closed his eyes. Qinghua had worn it recently, the scent of blood only faint, and tinged with that of medical herbs. From his injury before, not fresh. That was promising. And as telling as the fragments of wood on the floor that matched a hastily repaired front door.

Someone had smashed their way in. There had been a fight. His Qinghua was possibly taken, possibly rescued.

He needed more information.

A year ago, he’d had to hide his presence on the peak for Qinghua’s protection and his own peace. But Emperor Luo claimed the right to come and go as he pleased now. And he was very aware that Sha Hualing slipped in and out as well. If they could get used to them, they could get used to one more.

Over the years, Mobei-Jun had glimpsed the peak in its normal operations, a dizzying hive of activity sometimes even late into the night. Today was likely no exception. As he made his way down the path leading from the covered porch out to the main zone areas of the peak, his eyes scanned for the first disciple that might come close enough to grab without too much of a fuss. Thus, when a child ducked under the shade of a tree to rest for a moment, he reached out to snatch her up by the back of her robes, turning her around in the air to stare at.

"Where is Qinghua?" he demanded, looking her in the eye.

In hindsight, that may not have been the best approach. Instead of speaking and giving him the information he needed, the child took one look at him and began to wail, eyes wide and flooding with tears. Mobei grimaced. He was... not experienced with human children. Demon children, you could be rough with to shut them up. Attempting the same with a human child, he understood, risked doing more lasting harm. So, what had he learned that Qinghua preferred?

Slowly, he set the girl back down on the ground, holding onto her shoulder so she would not immediately run. "You will be quiet."

The direct approach didn't work. The child continued to cry, now yanking at his hand to free herself. Frowning, he used his free hand to very deliberately pat her head. Three times.

That, at least, did the job of quieting her, startled confusion pushing through tears as she stared up at him. With a sigh, he gave her a little nudge towards the path once again. Clearly, she wasn't going to be of much use. Too young, perhaps.

His next attempt was met with some better success, even if this boy, a few years older, looked just as surprised and confused when he patted his head. But he was still able to speak, even if the trouble in this instance came in the fact that he simply didn't have the information. He knew that Qinghua had come back to the mountain, but something had happened. The third knew that the Bai Zhan peak lord, whom Mobei-Jun remembered from his fights against the Emperor, had come and broken into his servant's home. But his growl at the fact spooked the boy enough that he dashed away with surprising speed.

The fourth disciple didn't wait to be pulled into the shadows, but rather came and found Mobei-Jun directly.

"Lord Demon, how may this disciple assist you?" the teenager asked, giving him a bow.

Mobei-Jun narrowed his eyes as he studied his face. It was unremarkable but familiar. He didn't make a habit of learning Qinghua's disciples’ faces, but there were some that he saw around the cultivator's house often enough. It took him a moment before he placed this one as Qinghua's head disciple. Good, then he'd likely found the most useful human on the peak that was not Qinghua.

"Where is Shang Qinghua?" he asked, watching him. "He was not in his home."

"Shizun is staying with Shen-shishu on his peak," the human boy said, looking him directly in the eye. He was bold. Good. "May I send a message to him for you?"

Shen Qingqiu. Somehow, it seemed annoyingly fitting for him to be involved. The one peak lord that he couldn't simply portal into the territory of to steal back his servant. Physically, he knew his abilities would not fail him, but Luo Binghe had made it very clear that any demon showing the peak lord disrespect would be signing their own death warrant. It had the opportunity to make this... difficult.

Mobei nodded slowly, turning his back to walk back towards the Leisure House. "Follow this king."

The An Ding disciple followed behind Mobei, stopping before he could cross over the threshold and waiting there. The demon glanced at him before deciding that if he wanted to stay outside, there was no reason for him to care.

It did not take long for him to find writing supplies, not in Qinghua's den. The only challenge was the letter itself. The instinct was to demand his servant's return. That was not an option, unfortunately. But diplomatic, flowery messages to convince someone of your way of thinking was the human's skill, not his. Scowling, he kept the message short and to the point, rising up from the low desk to thrust it towards the waiting disciple.

"Deliver it immediately. This king will wait here for a response."

Taking it, the boy waved the paper slightly to make sure it was dry before tucking it away and delivering another bow. "Very well. Respectfully, please refrain from terrorizing any more disciples until this disciple returns," the boy said with very careful politeness despite the request. "It will be easier to keep the other peak lords from becoming aware of your visit."

"Hmph."

Bowing again, the head disciple turned and moved off of the porch before drawing and mounting his sword. Not bothering to watch him leave, Mobei-Jun resumed his seat and settled to wait.

-

By the end of the music lessons, Shang Qinghua was trying so very hard to keep awake and still. The senior students played last, so the music displayed was more soothing the longer they went. Maybe he did close his eyes at one point, but only to meditate!

It just so happened that it was during that ‘meditation’ session that his head disciple made a quiet delivery of a message to him and Shen Qingqiu. Meaning he had no chance for input when his bro wrote out a response and sent it back with the boy. With the suggestion to take the long route back. Mobei-Jun could learn some patience.

The sudden commotion of the students getting up and putting away their instruments at the end of the lesson was what brought Shang Qinghua back to alertness. He held back a yawn, trying to be subtle about rubbing his eyes. Which could have worked better had he not been oh so slightly drooling for the last ten minutes.

"Dream anything good?" Shen Qingqiu asked with a smirk just barely hidden behind his fan.

"I wasn’t sleeping. I was awake the whole time," Shang Qinghua argued with a huff. Which was promptly interrupted by another yawn. "I was just meditating."

The (much, much) taller man rolled his eyes. "Uh huh. Well, don’t let me interrupt you then, master cultivator. But you should know that your head disciple came by with a message."

Shang Qinghua straightened up immediately. "Shi Wuyou brought a message? From who?"

"Whom. And see for yourself." He laid the message down on the desk. "I already sent a reply."

"You- What did you say?!" the tiny man squeaked, staring up at him. Was Cucumber trying to get him killed?

Shen Qingqiu fanned himself without care, gathering his papers together. "I said that you were recovering under my care and that he was welcome to come collect you… once Binghe returns in a few days."

"Cucumber, my brother in System fuckery, do you really want me dead that much?" he asked, clutching his chest. "Because there are less painful ways to off me, I gotta tell you."

"Don’t be so dramatic, and don’t call me that outside," Shen Qingqiu hissed, looking around quickly to make sure that none of the disciples had swung back around to listen in on them. "I didn’t tell your king what happened, and considering what Mu-shidi said about your state when you arrived, it’s reasonable to assume you’re still healing from your injuries." He huffed softly. "And I don’t want to invite Liu-shidi back to do more damage to my garden because I invited yet another demon onto my peak. He’s bad enough when Binghe’s here."

"I’m pretty sure that has less to do with Binghe’s being a demon and more to do with being jeal- you know what? Never mind. My king hates having to wait, and he’s not going to be happy," Shang Qinghua said with a groan. Mobei promised not to hurt him. He promised. Shang Qinghua was just going to have to keep reminding himself of that. Again. "Shouldn’t I have some say in that anyway?"

"No."

Shang Qinghua scowled at the other Millennial, pointing a finger up at him. "You and I are going to have a discussion when we get back to your place."

"That's fine. I'm sure your disciple will be able to find us there when he brings back the response," Shen Qingqiu said with a little shrug, holding out his hand to be climbed into again. "If your king sends one."

It was very tempting to be stubborn out of spite and refuse, but Shang Qinghua had an idea that either the other transmigrator would make him walk in that case, or simply grab him again. Still, he took a moment to flip him off properly before getting into the hand. Smart? Probably not. But he hadn't survived this long only doing what actually sounded like a good idea.

In fact, he waited to be transported up to Shen Qingqiu's shoulder before leaning in towards his ear to deliver, "You're an asshole."

"Noted. Now hold still so you don't fall."

Shang Qinghua had to firmly stomp down the temptation to jump just to be difficult. But he didn't have his sword, and also didn't particularly want to break every bone in his body. It tended to ruin a man's day, and would make Mu-shidi mad at him. And honestly, he thought that he might prefer to have Mobei angry with him over the doctor. Mobei would beat someone up. Mu Qingfang got creative.

Also, he hated the fact that Shen Qingqiu turned out to be right. They hadn't even reached the bamboo house before a familiar figure in An Ding robes flew down, a fresh note in his hand.

"Shizun, Shen-shishu, the demon sent one more message before he vanished," Shi Wuyou said, looking a little disturbed by that but nevertheless holding out the letter. "I'm not sure how he teleported through the wards."

"Long story for later," Shang Qinghua said. "What does the message say, Shen-shixiong?"

"Hm, we'll take a look at it once we're inside," Shen Qingqiu said. He nodded to the An Ding disciple, dismissing him to return to the skies and his own peak. He huffed once the teenager was out of reach. "If my head disciple found a demon in my house, he'd run to Bai Zhan faster than you can yell. Why did you get the one who actually has an idea of secrets?"

"Hey, don't discount Ming Fan. He's a little eager, but he's not a bad kid. These days," Shang Qinghua said, feeling the need to defend him. Just a little. "He's gotten better. And I got lucky. Picked the kid for the peak because he looked strong. Which, true. Could probably bench press me when he was twelve. But he's also freaky smart, so I'm keeping him until I have enough of a back-up plan to go hide in a pit someplace and he can take over."

"Just how many back-up plans do you think you need?"

"A few dozen?" Shang Qinghua was pulling the number out of his ass, but that didn't mean he didn't have plenty of them.

"You really are a paranoid little hamster aren’t you?" Shen Qingqiu said with a roll of his eyes. He reached up to snatch the other man down off of his shoulder, fingers wrapped around him as he slid the door open and ducked inside. "I feel like I should get you a wheel to wear you out with."

"Bro, you’re so mean to me," he huffed, straightening his robes once he was set down on the table. Shang Qinghua flashed a hand sign that had very little to do with cultivation, getting a poke to the side for his trouble. "Come on, show me the message already."

"Be patient." Shen Qingqiu swept away from the table, taking his sweet time to make a pot of tea along with a dose of the medicinal tea for the tiny author. "Drink your medicine first."

Shang Qinghua sulked. He was so absolutely being treated like a child, and he knew for a fact that he was more than twice Cucumber’s age! Just because he was small didn’t mean he was a child. Downing the tea as quickly as he could without burning himself, he held his hand out.

The paper was dropped in front of him on the table, arranged so they could both see it. It was about as short as the first one, very to the point again.

‘This king will follow Emperor Luo Binghe’s return. Tell Shang Qinghua to rest.’

Shang Qinghua pinked at the instructions. Maybe his king was willing to be a little patient after all.

"Somehow, I don’t think you’re going to need to worry about him coming to kill you," Shen Qingqiu said as he read over his shoulder. "Good. Then I won’t have to set Binghe on him."

"Bro!" the author yelped, scandalized. "You can’t set Binghe on my king! He’s his right hand man!"

The other cultivator shrugged his shoulder, picking up his tea to cradle in his hands. "I’m aware. But he would do it if I asked." He glanced at him. "I have an interest in keeping my fellow peak lords safe. So, do I need to ask?"

"No, no, absolutely not!" Shang Qinghua flailed his hands, his eyes wide. "You are going to do absolutely nothing to get my king killed, okay? Not a damn thing!"

Shen Qingqiu sipped silently for a moment, calm as his namesake. "I’ll leave him alone for now. But if I see you come back bruised again, I may reconsider."

"Oh no, no conditions. You set Binghe on my king and I’ll- I’ll tell your husband about every mpreg plant I ever wrote into this world!" the tiny man said, scrambling for something to use against his fellow transmigrator.

Green eyes sharpened, glaring. "You wouldn’t dare."

Shang Qinghua glared right back at him. "Want to fucking bet?"

They stared at each other in a wordless standoff, which would have painted a hilarious picture if there was anyone to see considering the size difference between them.

Shen Qingqiu was the first to break the staring contest, snorting as he brought his fan up again. "Gods, you’re as much an M as Binghe is. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you really were his father. Fine. Have it your way."

"Knew you’d see the light." He jumped when he got another poke in the side. "Hey!"

"I’m still going to have to have a talk with your king," Shen Qingqiu said archly. "You’re a pain in the ass, but you’re the only one who gets the jokes and I’d rather not see him accidentally kill you someday. And you’re especially breakable right now, in case you forgot."

"Always glad to be the Empress’s jester," Shang Qinghua said dryly, dodging another finger. "I’m just gonna hope that your stunt will buy me enough time to get back to normal. Mobei promised to cut with the hitting, but that was before I kinda turned useless to him."

Shen Qingqiu tipped his head to the side. "He did? When?"

"Right, I suppose I didn’t get a chance to catch you up on everything." Shang Qinghua rubbed the back of his neck with a hand. "His shitty uncle kind of found me sometime after I ran into you and Binghe playing house and, well, wasn’t exactly happy about me keeping him from killing my king during his ascension ceremony. He tried to kill me, my king rescued me, we fought, and… I kind of threatened to leave for good?"

"And what, he apologized, offered you a raise, and promised to be nice to you from then on?" Cucumber asked, skepticism dripping from his voice.

Shang Qinghua laughed nervously. "Ha ha, not exactly? But he told me I could hit back, took me to an inn, and said he’d make me hand pulled noodles. Which, actually, he hasn’t done yet but we’ve been kind of busy and I’m not sure if he actually even knows how to… Anyway! He took me to an inn and we had a bit of a chat. Well, I mostly did the talking, but that’s beside the point. I told him that I couldn’t take the hitting anymore, especially with him stronger now, and he agreed. So! No need to worry about it anymore."

Shen Qingqiu looked at him for a while longer before shaking his head. "You’re such an idiot."

"Oi, don’t say that to your father-in-law," Shang Qinghua said with a pout, ducking quickly when the other man’s hand went to his fan. "No hitting from you either!"

"You are not my father-in-law, you hack author!"

-

As the time for dinner neared, Shen Qingqiu was prepared to go fetch another of Binghe’s preserved meals when there was yet another knock on the door. The poor thing had gotten more attention than ever before, it seemed! But when it opened, he was faced with not his own disciples or martial siblings, but a small swarm of An Ding disciples all carrying small packages of food.

"Yes?" he asked, looking down at them as he waited for them to explain what they wanted. It was rather late for them to be there to finish the repairs from Liu-shidi and Binghe’s fight, and their burdens didn’t look like building supplies. "What may this master do for his shizhi?"

"Master Shen-shibo, we wanted to see our shizun," one of the older ones, who couldn’t have been more than fourteen, said politely. "We brought dinner for him."

"Is that so? Well, this master supposes he can allow a brief visit," Shen Qingqiu said, hiding a smirk behind his fan. It looked like he wouldn’t need to share Binghe’s cooking this time after all. Not that Airplane ate particularly much at the moment. He stepped aside to allow them entrance. "He’s at the table."

When the first disciple spotted Shang Qinghua and realized that ‘at’ meant ‘on,’ she let out a squeal and rushed forward, quickly followed by the others.

"Shizun, you’ve gotten so small!"

"Has Shen-shibo been taking care of you?"

"Are you ever going to get back to normal? How will you teach us if you don’t?!"

The shrunken cultivator, of course, found himself immediately surrounded by excitable children, some of them tearing up at the sight of him, others looking like they were just barely keeping themselves from reaching out and grabbing him. He sputtered, turning around in a circle to see them all.

"It’s fine, I’m fine, I’ll get back to normal soon," Shang Qinghua said quickly, even if he had no idea if that was going to end up being true or not. He couldn't handle making his ducklings sad! "What are you all doing here?"

"Qing Jing food is bland, and our Shizun deserves better," one bold girl said, depositing her package on the table and opening it up. "We brought you some so you wouldn’t feel homesick when you’re here."

Behind them, Shen Qingqiu frowned at the small insult to his peak, but he couldn’t particularly deny it. He didn’t even eat the typical food served on his own peak. And the aroma of spices as the package was opened smelled delicious.

The girl wasn’t the only one bringing food either. One by one, they put their offerings down on the table until Shang Qinghua found himself having to edge around the dishes crowding the surface. But he couldn’t deny the embarrassed smile creeping onto his face. Damn, he loved his little flock of ducklings.

"I don’t think I’ll be able to eat all this," he admitted, looking up at them. "But I’m sure your Shen-shibo can help me make a good dent in it. Thank you."

"Make sure you get enough. You need to eat to grow again," the bold girl said. Some of the other little ones nodded their agreement. The older disciples rolled their eyes a bit, but didn’t bother contradicting her. She eyeballed Shen Qingqiu. "Shen-shibo is already tall enough."

"Be polite to your shibo," Shang Qinghua scolded lightly, still unable to take the smile from his face. "I’ll eat until I’m full, alright? Promise. But you lot have to head back to An Ding before the hall masters come looking for you."

A few lips quivered, but enough of the older ones stepped in to help that they were all herded towards the door without Shen Qingqiu having to step in and actively kick them out of his home. Once the door was once again shut, he smothered a little snicker.

"I can see why you call them ducklings," Shen Qingqiu said, returning to his seat after a detour into the kitchen for dishes. He looked over the healthy spread of food. "Though I suppose that makes you the mother duck, which is terrifying by itself. Who let you raise kids?"

"Bro, I raised some of the best kids," Shang Qinghua said, lifting his chin up in rare pride. "Better look out for when they grow up because they’re not gonna be your usual An Ding punching bags. And! They cook better than anyone on your peak other than my son."

Unable to argue that last point going just by scent and sulking about it, just a little, Shen Qingqiu opened up another of the packages to find more food. A dessert this time. "That’s just because the cooks here haven’t heard of spices. Which, I see, yours have."

"Advantage of being the one to organize all the trade deals," Shang Qinghua said, leaning over the dish. He reached in to grab a bit with his hands before Shen Qingqiu could stop him, stuffing it into his mouth. "Hmmm."

"Keep your hands out of it if you’re going to share," Shen Qingqiu scolded. He quickly served them up a bit of each. Literally a bit in Airplane’s case. At the first bite, he froze with wide eyes. It was delicious! (Maybe not Binghe delicious, but better than just about anything he’d had since transmigrating that his husband hadn’t cooked!) "Just who taught them how to cook?"

"I’ll have you know that was me." And it’d been his best choice ever, as far as he was concerned.

Shen Qingqiu eyeballed him. "Since when do you know how to cook?"

"Since forever, bro," Shang Qinghua said with a huff. "I didn’t die to ramen noodles because that’s all I know how to make, you know. I make some pretty mean dishes when I’m big enough to use the stove."

"Does anyone else know about this?" Shen Qingqiu asked. Maybe he could convince the other transmigrator to come cook for him whenever his husband was away.

"I mean, I’ve had Mu-shidi over for dinner now and then, and Wei-shixiong a few times," Shang Qinghua said, thinking it over as he savored the home cooking. What could he say, he liked having a good warm meal, and when it was actually made for you, it was twice as special. "Why?"

"Just curious why I’ve never heard about it." Hm, at least two others. Well, if it was only time to time then he wouldn’t need to worry about Airplane being too social and busy. Good.

"Ha, best kept secret of the peak. If everyone knew, then we’d probably have to add chef to our already long list of peak jobs that everyone else shoves on us," Shang Qinghua said, snickering. "So don’t go telling people. Especially Binghe, or he’ll get jealous. Which is silly because he’s better than me, but that boy survives on vinegar."

Shen Qingqiu felt the need to defend his beloved black lotus, even if Airplane had a point. "He’s not that bad."

"Bro, I literally created him. I know exactly how bad he gets with jealousy."

That was a very difficult-to-argue-against point, as much as Shen Qingqiu wanted to deny it. So he didn’t say anything, taking another bite to give himself the excuse for silence. Even if he was still having a little trouble wrapping his head around the idea of Shang Qinghua, hack author who dreamed of instant noodles, knowing how to cook.

"Anyway, I have an errand to do in town tomorrow," Shen Qingqiu said, changing the subject. "Obviously, you’ll have to come with me unless you want to stay with Mu-shidi, but you’ll have to do it out of sight."

Shang Qinghua grimaced at the idea of staying with the doctor. No, no thank you. "Why can’t I stay with the kids? I’m sure they’d keep a fine eye on me."

"The younger ones don’t have swords yet, and your older disciples are doing their best to keep the sect running while you’re out of commission," the Qing Jing peak lord said. "And I would feel better if I knew you were with someone who could actually do something if you suddenly got worse."

"…point." Not a point that he liked to think about, but a valid point nonetheless. "Fine. So how are you planning to carry me then? Because I don’t think the parrot carry is going to cut it if we’re doing the out of sight deal. Which, I’m all for. It’s weird enough getting stared at by the other members of the sect. At least they recognize me. Mostly. Regular villagers? Eh… I’m gonna say no to that."

"I was thinking a sleeve would work best," Shen Qingqiu said after a moment. That or between layers of robe, but that seemed like it’d be a little too personal to him. And what if he forgot he was in there and leaned against something, or his belts loosened and he fell?! Even if the fall didn’t kill him, being on the ground in a packed market would! "It wouldn’t be hard to stitch a little pocket into one, so you don’t sink all the way into the bottom."

Shang Qinghua put his palm to his face. "Fuck, that sounds weird when you say it. But you know what? Sure. Maybe we can pick up a few things for me too. I’ll make up a list so people don’t have to see you talking into your sleeves to ask me questions."

"Airplane, this whole thing is weird," he said dryly. "You’re standing on my table and tonight you’re going to be sleeping on a pillow."

"That’s been the best part about this whole thing, actually." Shang Qinghua snickered. "Softest bed I’ve ever seen. Ten out of ten. The rest of this? Sucks balls. But I might have to commission a giant pillow to replace my bed when this is all over. So glad you don’t put up with the porcelain pillows."

"They’re pretty, but I am never going to sleep on one," Shen Qingqiu agreed with a snort. If there was one part of the world that he really didn’t mind not being historically accurate, it was the pillows. And some of the furniture. He still wished, after the fact, that Airplane had gone ahead and put in chocolate. And maybe coffee. Two things he missed from the modern world more than most. "So, sleeve it is then. We'll leave after breakfast, hopefully before the markets get too crowded. Go in, grab the things on our lists, and then head home before anyone comes around to fuss."

"And before too many people notice mister immortal cultivator who came back from the dead is touring the market?" Shang Qinghua asked cheekily. It wasn't as if the local village hadn't heard about his death after all! And then about him coming back around like nothing had ever happened. First time, carrying a kid no less.

The fact that the child had been a qi deviated Emperor of the demon realm wasn't widely known, sure, but they'd still spotted the child. And likely assumed that he'd been taken in as a disciple. That part was business as usual, even if (risen from the grave!) peak lords didn't typically go out and fetch new students so personally.

Shen Qingqiu huffed, looking away. "I'm sure there aren't very many people who know about that."

"Bro..."

"And besides, there are always rumors going around about the sect and our dealings, so what's one more to add to the slush pile. If people decided to believe crazy things, then that's on them," he said, putting more bits of food on Shang Qinghua's plate. "Now eat. Your disciples will be disappointed if you don't have enough. And you promised them."

"I really don't think food will make me grow back to normal," Shang Qinghua said, rolling his eyes. Sure, it made sense to the younger kids. They eat to grow. But they weren't under a kind of supernatural poisoning. It wasn't the same thing.

"Eat."

"Yes, Mom."

Chapter Text

With the amount of food the kids had brought, they made sure to eat the leftovers for breakfast to make sure there weren't any signs of someone else's cooking when Binghe came back. And because it'd be a waste to throw away his disciples' hard work.

Which then left Shang Qinghua staring at the pocket Shen Qingqiu had stitched into the sleeve of his own inner robe.

"Are you sure you made that strong enough?" he asked, staring at it doubtfully as the other transmigrator held it open with two fingers, waiting for him to climb inside. "Those stitches look kinda suspect."

Ears pink, Shen Qingqiu did an excellent impersonation of a demon growl. "Excuse me if I'm not as tidy at it. I don't exactly get a lot of practice sewing. I could always drop you off with Mu-shidi after all, if you don't want to go."

"You know, actually, maybe your stitching looks stronger than I thought. Give me a second to climb in and I'll be all ready to go," Shang Qinghua said quickly. He struggled to climb into the glorified sack, squirming to turn around inside so his head would be pointing the right direction when it was allowed to hang. It was just deep enough to curl up and be out of sight, but not so deep that he couldn't stand up and peek out. Which, actually, was pretty considerate. He stuck an arm out to wave. "Ready!"

"Thought you'd come around to see it my way," Shen Qingqiu said, smug as he straightened up slowly and brought his hand out from under the hidden pocket. With the outer sleeve pulled over to cover his inner one, the lump that the other man made wasn't so obvious, which was pretty much the idea. He didn't want it to look like that was where he was hiding his coin purse either, after all, or he'd be an obvious mark for thieves. Who probably wouldn't be too happy to find out that the purse they thought they were getting was actually a tiny peak lord. "I'll find a spot to check on you every so often, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's fine," Shang Qinghua said, waving it off. It wasn't like he really had much of a choice in the matter all considering. "Get going so we can get back soon."

"You're in no position to issue orders," his bro said with a huff. But still, Shen Qingqiu slipped out of the house, stepping onto his sword to fly down the mountain so he could avoid a dozen disciples asking questions about where he was off to.

Particularly since his primary errand was going to one of the booksellers that swung through the village regularly. Selling books that... were not particularly appropriate for young and impressionable minds. He read them for the plot, okay!?

And flying also meant avoiding one nosey and very-happy-to-spread-gossip stair sweeper. Who'd made plenty of trouble for him the last time he came back to the sect!

Despite their best efforts, there were already plenty of people roaming around the market by the time they landed just outside the village and made their way inside. Shen Qingqiu had to be careful not to let anyone bump into him on the side Shang Qinghua was hidden, at some points going to the extent of bringing his wrist up to his chest, edge of the sleeves gripped in his fingers to keep them up. And likewise had to remember not to shove much into that particular sleeve, even if it was where he normally stored a qiankun pouch. That part had to be the most difficult.

Tucking away a fresh bottle of hair oils to replace the one that was nearly empty on his vanity, he stepped away from the crowd to check on his tiny charge. Which, considering his typical run of luck, meant that there was no one to notice and warn him before something hard came down on his head.

-

Inside the sleeve, Shang Qinghua had been trying not to fall asleep like some mouse in a tulip, or get motion sick. Neither of them would be too great for his last remaining bits of dignity, and Cucumber would really not be happy if he lost his breakfast and got it on his robes. But no one could have missed the thunk from outside, or the way that the ground suddenly fell out from under him. He didn't have time to scream before the fall abruptly stopped, thankfully without his bro falling on top of him.

"Are you sure that's him? That was too easy."

"Are you complaining? I can cut off one of your feet to make you feel better if you want."

"I'm just saying."

"It's him. Green robes, pretty, and... there, Cang Qiong jade pendant. Just like the General said."

Eyes wide in the darkness of the sleeve, Shang Qinghua felt his stomach turn. What rotten luck, to be hidden with Cucumber when his bro was hit with a wife plot! And here he was, very much snack sized. He scrambled out of the pocket and down into the main body of the sleeve just in time as claw tipped fingers delved into the opening. Demons, clearly. Which was extra bad news!

"What are you doing?"

"Looking to see if he's got anything interesting. Just an empty purse pouch."

"Bah, you idiot. He's a cultivator. Probably has all kinds of ways to hide his shit. Pick him up. You don't want to get caught before we get to the borderlands."

They were hoisted up, the sleeve swinging wildly since the demons were obviously doing nothing to prevent it. And then Shang Qinghua felt the gut-wrenching and familiar feeling of being taken through a distance-shortening array. Fuck! The sect wouldn't be able to track them, especially by the time anyone even realized they were missing. He silently cursed the other cultivator for sneaking out with just him instead of grabbing someone else to go with him. Hell, even Liu Qingge would have worked, and the man wouldn't have said no with Shen Qingqiu asking him.

He gritted his teeth to keep himself silent as he was bumped and swung around by the demons hauling his unconscious friend. He really didn't want to get found like this! Especially because they'd probably just decide he was a useless extra and do him in. Shang Qinghua wasn't the Emperor's husband. He wasn't even his friend. He was just some other human to most of the demon realm, and that was assuming they even recognized him!

Outside his fabric hiding hole, the demons grumbled as they traveled on.

"Why did we have to take him alive, anyway? He'd be lighter if we could split him up and share the load."

"Idiot! The General wants him alive," another said along with the sound of a smack. "And you can't cut humans up without killing them!"

"He's gonna be dying anyway, when they get whatever spell he's got on the Emperor off," the first grumbled. "Why can't we just get it over with?"

"Don't ask me. I don't get what those high born snobs get up to. But it's gonna end with a dead consort and our lady with a new crown anyway, so what's it matter to you?"

"What matters to me is that he's heavy! You take a turn!"

"I'm the only one who can read the directions to the next array, stupid. So I'll be doing that and you'll be carrying the human and that's that!"

Well, if they wanted to keep Cucumber alive to meet this General, then that'd buy them time at least. And, frankly, he'd heard the bewitching rumor around Binghe's palace more than once when Mobei had been dragging him there before his and Shen Qingqiu's marriage tour. No one with any brain cells believed it, not even Sha Hualing who was still vexed about being passed over last he heard, but rumors were rumors, and idiots were idiots.

"I still can't believe he turned down our lady for consort," the first demon muttered after a time. "Even if he's a cutsleeve, a proper king should have a good harem! Not just one old man human, especially one of those fucking cultivators!"

"Must be bad blood. His father obviously liked humans too. No concubines, and a half-blood son," the second said with a scoff. "Not worth our lady, but what Lady Silver Moon wants, Lady Silver Moon gets.

Shang Qinghua almost wanted to sigh, seeing his hasty writing coming back to bite him again. Come on, did he really deserve the bad karma for writing easy harem plots? He’d just been trying to pay his rent! At least the minor villain low IQ rule was still carrying through, for them to be talking this much.

Digging deep into his memory now that he had a name, he tried to call up the original plot to get an idea of what they might have planned. If he remembered right, Lady Silver Moon had been the product of yet another computer crash destroying a better thought out chapter, basically a werewolf with the European serial numbers filed off. Once Binghe had papapa’d her ‘family curse’ off of her, she stopped transforming and essentially just became yet another sexy woman with a few non-offensive animal traits slapped on for flavor. He hadn’t even heard of her clan so far in this life, but obviously she’d made a go at Binghe at some point.

Which, by the way, firmly put this kidnapping into wife plot territory. Leave him out of this, Cucumber!

The big problem with that particular clan of demons, other than being particularly dumb, was that they really didn’t care about where the flesh they ate came from. And even if they weren’t chewing on his bro at the moment, he definitely had no protections! And, in case anyone forgot, he was basically a one or two bite meal! A snack for the road!

How unfair to have escaped death by Mobei’s uncle only to get eaten by some single chapter minion!

Not throwing up when he was drawn through yet another array was hard. They had to be in the demon realm by now. How far in, he had no clue.

"How are they planning on breaking the spell on the Emperor anyway? If it was just about killing him, they'd let us do it."

The sleeve swung violently as there was another smack outside, making Shang Qinghua's stomach turn. Fuck, he was never traveling this way again.

"Our lady is going to do it, of course, you idiot! One kiss from a good lady should knock him right out of it, and then bringing him the body of the human who cursed him will be a perfect wedding gift to seal the deal. She'll be first wife even if he doesn't make her Empress, and the Silver clan will rise up into the top of the realm!"

"Oh, that makes sense." There was a pause. "So why can't we just kill him now then?"

"Hell if I know. But the boss said not to. General wants him alive until later, and he's the one who gave us the tip."

Why couldn’t they show some even lower IQ and say the name of this General too? It might not serve him all that much right away, but surely it could help if he managed to get away. Not… that it seemed all that likely considering the circumstances. But Shang Qinghua liked to know who and what was trying to kill him, thanks!

There was a familiar groan outside his fabric prison that gave him a surge of hope. Shen Qingqiu was waking up! Come on, bro. Play dead until they let their guard down.

But luck just couldn’t go his way, because the world he’d created hated him. And because Shen Qingqiu immediately jerked into motion, and Shang Qinghua couldn’t hold back the yelp as they both fell. From the rough shout outside and the sizzle of qi that made his hair stand up, the other cultivator had used a ward sewn into his clothes to attack.

It wasn’t enough. A moment later they were slammed down onto the ground, Shen Qingqiu’s weight coming down on top of the tiny man and pinning Shang Qinghua, knocking the breath out of his lungs. There wasn’t any time to be thankful for the fact that he hadn’t just been squished, somehow, because his bro was yanked right back up, sleeves jerking as his arms were pinned behind his back.

"Fucking human bastard! Get rid of that robe, and search him!" the demon in control snarled, hissing. There was the sound of skin hitting skin. "That hurt!"

Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK! Shang Qinghua tried to scramble further into the sleeve, but there was nowhere else to go and no way to hide the lump he made as Shen Qingqiu’s outer robe was wrestled off of him.

"What’s that?"

No matter how much Shen Qingqiu obviously struggled, his arm was grabbed and the inner robe’s sleeve torn open, sending one tiny author tumbling out with a cry of fear. He hit the ground, landing on his just recently and barely healed leg, pain flaring up on impact. Scrambling painfully up to his feet, Shang Qinghua managed three steps before a clawed hand grabbed him around the waist and hoisted him up fast enough to make him feel sick.

"What do we have here? Some little imp sent to keep an eye on the Emperor’s human?" the leader asked, holding Shang Qinghua up and waving his fist. "Looks like you picked a bad day to do your job! Who wants to bite off his head?"

"What if there's a ward on him? Little thing like that can't protect the human, but he'd be real good at dying when he's in danger," one of the others argued, reaching up to snatch Shang Qinghua away. "The Emperor could be on us in a heartbeat if you kill him!"

Shen Qingqiu twitched against a third demon's hold, his face pale as he stared up at his friend in the demon's grasp. "Let him go!"

The leader grabbed the tiny cultivator back, holding him high up in the air so his subordinate couldn't take him back again. "See! Stupid human wants him alive! So he must be a spy for Lord Luo!"

The other demon didn't take well to that and gave him a shove. "You're the stupid one! He's obviously trying to trick you."

Fought over and swung about, Shang Qinghua really was going to be sick. He gritted his teeth, eyes wide, blood well drained out of his cheeks the more they fought. But even when it got hard to focus, he spotted something that gave him a small flicker of hope. One of his secret marks, carved into a standing stone. He knew where they were!

"W-wait!" he shouted. "You shouldn't- you shouldn't kill me! I can help you!"

The leader demon abruptly brought him up to his ugly face, leering at him. "What's that, little snack?"

"I'll help you, if you don't kill me," Shang Qinghua said between pants for breath. Oh gods, he was finally holding still. "The Emperor's a lousy boss, but he'd kill me if I left his human's side. And he'll kill anyone else who hurts him! He'll be on your tails faster than you know, but I can help you hide!"

"And why should we believe you? You're just a little pet servant imp," the demon sneered. "Probably helping him spy on us right now."

"I know a hidden cave nearby," he said quickly, the gears in his head spinning. "It was always my backup plan to go hide there, but I never could get away. I'll show you how to get there and how to get inside! See, the marker is right there on that stone!"

The demon leader eyeballed him suspiciously before turning his head to examine the marked stone. Which gave Shang Qinghua just enough time to catch Shen Qingqiu's eye, trying to get his point clear through expression alone. Come on, get with the act, Cucumber.

And wasn't he glad that his bro was a smart cookie most of the time. His nod was nearly imperceptible before his face clouded with anger, making Shang Qinghua want to duck for cover by instinct alone.

"You little rat! How dare you!" he growled, jerking against the demon holding him as if he was more interested in getting free to attack Shang Qinghua than to escape. "You were ordered to protect me! I'll see Binghe burn you alive!"

"I'm not dying for some human!" Shang Qinghua wailed. "See? You see how he talks to me? Why would I put my neck out to help him?"

The grip around his ribs tightened, making him gasp when they creaked worryingly. "You get one chance to prove yourself then. Try to double cross us and I'll bite your head off myself!"

"The cave is there, I promise!" he gasped, legs kicking as he tried to draw breath. "It's sealed so no one outside can sense someone inside, in case there was an attack just like this while the human was in the demon realm. They're scattered all over the place! It's barely half a li north of the stone."

The demon smirked and began to bring Shang Qinghua closer to his mouth. "You're not a smart little imp, are you?"

Shang Qinghua's heart pounded in his chest as he panicked. What could he say to keep them from killing him anyway?! "W-wait! You'll need me alive to open it!"

That got the demon leader to pause, thankfully pulling his prisoner back enough to look at again. "And why is that, little imp?"

"You'll see! There's a ward on the cave to keep just anyone from using it," he said. For once, telling the truth. Of course, the ward had very little to do with Binghe except as a possible threat to Shang Qinghua's life. "Only the Emperor's most trusted servants know how to open it, or have the last piece of the spell to keep someone inside from being tracked."

"And what makes you think he trusts a little imp like you?" the demon asked, scowling.

"Would he have someone he didn't trust guarding his human?" Shang Qinghua pointed out. "You'll need me to unlock the door and activate the ward or it's no better than any other cave. He'll find you lot and paint the walls with you if you don't let me help!"

The demon narrowed his eyes as he stared at him, obviously not trusting him. But there was enough truth in what Shang Qinghua had either said or hinted at that it was hard for a low IQ cannon fodder character like this nameless demon to find holes in his claims. At last, he growled and turned to glare at his men. "Grab the human and start heading north! If the Emperor finds us before our Lady breaks the spell, we're all dead." He raised his prisoner, shaking him. "And you. If you betray us, it'll be YOUR guts on the walls."

"Of course, of course, I would never dream of it," Shang Qinghua said quickly. He squirmed enough to get his arm out of the demon's grip, trying to make his eyes focus again to point. "Just go that way. You'll see I'm telling the truth."

In truth, there was a well-hidden cave, the entrance walled off and heavily warded to keep someone from finding someone inside. Only, it would only hide a human. Because it was one of his many bolt holes he'd created over the decades when he'd fully expected Mobei to either get bored of him and snap his neck, or for his black lotus son to someday decide that he didn't want any of the peak lords to live.

Only, there'd been a second safety feature he'd added. A way to call his king, should he still be in his good graces when he had to hide.

The demons marched north, tying their full-sized captive in immortal binding cables that they probably should have used well before, and the leader still holding onto the tiny one tightly. And then, there, right where Shang Qinghua knew it'd be, was the cave door.

"Hm, so you told the truth," the leader demon said, still somewhat suspicious. He jerked his free hand towards another in the party. "You. You've looked at wards before. These look right?"

An older demon staggered closer, peering at the incomplete wards centered on the door. Well, door may have been generous. It was more of a hatch, really, leading into a small cave that scooped into the earth. Not comfortable, not grand, but just enough for someone like him to hunker down in and ride out the storm.

"It's not complete, but it looks like a human ward," the old demon said, frowning. "Perhaps the Emperor learned from his human guardians before taking his crown."

"Well then. Get to finishing it," the leader demon said to Shang Qinghua. He held him up to the writings. "I'm not going to be patient if you stall for time."

"I'm not going to, I promise. I just need something to write with," he tried to point out before a big claw sliced over his palm before he was abruptly shoved closer to the ward. "Ouch! Ah, right, of course this will work. You're such a wise leader." Shang Qinghua gritted his teeth and hoped this would work as he flexed his hand to keep it bleeding, using two fingers to start adding in the missing bits to the spell. Once it opened up, he wouldn't have a lot of time to act. "You should shove him inside as soon as this opens, so the Emperor can't sense him anyway. It'll be harder to track him. Or me!"

"Yeah, yeah, just keep drawing," the leader demon ordered.

They got excited when the door slid aside to grant access to the small bolt hole, giving credence to Shang Qinghua's empty promises. A swell of hope rose up in his chest. It'd worked so far! He quickly scribbled in a second bit of symbols, ones that would alert his king.

He didn't notice the smirk that spread over the demon's face as he grabbed Shang Qinghua tightly once again.

"Good little imp," he said with a laugh. "Too bad what I said earlier is true! You're not terribly smart! Get the human inside! We'll let the Emperor play with this one!"

A few things happened in quick succession from there. Demon leader crowing his soon to be victory, he flung his captive away from the cave, never having any intentions of letting him hide inside with them. No matter how he struggled to break free and find his fellow transmigrator, Shen Qingqiu was shoved roughly into the opened cave, hitting the back wall with a grunt of pain.

As soon as he passed through, the cave door snapped shut. Trapping the demons outside and leaving Shang Qinghua to feel a sense of dull satisfaction even as he hit against something and everything went black. Ha, serves you right, fuckers.

Unconscious and out of sight, he didn't get the chance to see the portal ripping itself into the air with a surge of shadows, Binghe surging through followed by the northern king. The heavenly demon's eyes blazed red as he looked upon the group of kidnappers, sweeping over them for his shizun as his aura spread out to fill the area, oppressive and furious. Some of the smarter ones took that as a cue to turn and run immediately, but it was too late as a flex of will and shadows froze their feet to the ground. Literally.

Binghe stalked forward, his teeth bared. "Where is he?" he growled.

"We didn't hurt him, my lord!" one of the demons blurted, praying that he'd survive this encounter. Or even just that he'd die quickly!

"Shut up!" The demon leader tried to draw himself up, no matter how the emperor's oppressive aura told him to get on the ground and beg, beg not to die, or just to die quickly. "We've captured him for you, Lord Luo! So when Lady Silver Moon helped you to break the enchantment he had you under..."

He trailed off as Mobei-Jun drew an object out of his robes and flung it to the ground in front of them, blood draining from his face. The object was a head, with long black and silver hair still tied up attractively with a moon hair ornament, face twisted in horror.

"I will repeat myself one more time," Binghe said, his voice low and dangerous. "Where is Shen Qingqiu?"

The demon who'd found Shang Qinghua flung himself down onto the ground, ignoring the way that it made his feet scream as they cracked in the ice. "Please forgive us, Lord Luo! He's inside the cave there! We were forced into this, I swear! Your servant tried to betray you and hide your consort from you, but we've already punished him for it. Please have mercy!"

But Binghe already wasn't listening, grabbing the leader who stood closest to the door and literally ripping him off his feet to fling out of his way before slashing the door open with his claws. Even Shang Qinghua's best wards were little match against the protagonist's OP power, and the door may as well have been wet tissue paper for all the resistance it put up. "Shizun!"

"Binghe!" Shen Qingqiu tried to reach for his husband, but the immortal binding cables prevented him. Not that it mattered as he was dragged into the heavenly demon's arms.

The demon Emperor fussed over him, cutting through the ropes and pulling his outer robe off to wrap his husband in. "Are you alright? I shouldn't have left you alone on the peak. If those useless sect lords can't keep you safe-"

"I'm fine," Shen Qingqiu said quickly, using both hands to cup the demon's face. "Just a little winded. But how did you find me so quickly?"

"I was with Mobei-Jun when he got your signal," Binghe said, his eyes misting over with unshed tears. "Shizun, why did you call out to him and not me?"

"My signal- Oh no! Binghe, you have to find Shang Qinghua! He was with me when I was captured and he was thrown out into the trees!" Shen Qingqiu said, fear rising up for his friend as he was suddenly reminded of the perilous position he was in.

"Don’t worry about him, Shizun," the heavenly demon said, tasting vinegar. He bent his head to kiss his husband’s forehead before pushing him towards Mobei-Jun. "Mobei, take him to the palace and stay with him until I get back. I’ll deal with this lot."

"Binghe!"

Mobei bowed his head to the younger demon before drawing open another portal and taking a firm but gentle hold of Shen Qingqiu to draw him through. The cultivator struggled and protested, but the ice demon would follow orders. Even if he didn't want to.

As the portal closed up behind them, silencing Shen Qingqiu's shouts of protest, Luo Binghe silently hoped that his husband would forgive him before he turned once more to the group of demons who had dared to harm a hair on his head.

It didn't take long for the screaming to begin.

-

Stumbling out of the portal inside the Underground Palace, Shen Qingqiu immediately whirled around to glare at Mobei-Jun. "Take me back! Immediately! Or at least go back yourself and help Shang-shidi!"

"This king cannot," Mobei-Jun said, his face difficult to read as always as he looked down at him. "Junshang commanded I protect you until he returns."

"I thought you cared about him!" the cultivator snapped. "He could die out there!"

The ice demon's face grew colder at the unvoiced accusation. "Shang Qinghua is capable of defending himself." And hadn't he seen that so recently?

If Shen Qingqiu had been born into a demon body instead of his human scum villain body, he would have growled. As it was, he made a decent attempt at it anyway. "Normally, maybe! But right now a stray cat could kill him!"

Blue eyes narrowed. "Explain."

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua's back felt like it was one giant bruise when he stirred back to consciousness at the base of a tree. He was a little surprised to be alive, honestly, and wasn't entirely sure that it was a good thing because fuck ow. As tempting as it was to let himself slip back into sleep just so he wouldn't have to deal with it, he pried his eyes open to see where he'd landed after being flung.

And was rather immediately met face to face with a pair of feet.

Or, rather, two separate feet, bloody and partially frozen. And, oh right, not attached to the rest of any body. Shang Qinghua let out a disgusted yelp, trying to scramble backwards, but there was already a tree at his back, looming high up so far that it would probably hurt his neck to try and see the top.

With a shudder, he pushed himself up slowly, looking around. He was still not far from the bolthole, and there were four sets of disembodied feet. One for each of the demons he'd seen when he'd been being waved around. And he could see the door to the little cave lying in pieces, with no sign of Shen Qingqiu inside save for some pieces of immortal binding cables on the ground. Good, Cucumber had probably been rescued then. Even if he felt a tiny sliver of sympathy for the demons. No one got revenge better than Binghe when someone hurt his husband.

Would have been nice if he'd been rescued too. Binghe, you are the worst son!

Staggering to his feet, he crept forward towards where the wards had been, to see if there was enough of them left to re-activate and call for help again. As he examined them, head still aching, he didn't notice the little beast creeping up on him, drawn in by the scent of a human and of the gore scattered around. The beast then leapt out and snatched up the tiny man in its teeth before dashing for the trees.

Shang Qinghua screamed, sharp teeth digging through the robe to scrape against his back. He swung from its bite helplessly. Come on, just give him a break already! He didn't want to die like this! A leap onto another branch brought him to smack against the wood, something hard hitting his leg. The pin!

He cursed himself for forgetting about it earlier. Surely it could have helped him to escape the demons, early enough to go get help faster. But he was also glad he hadn't remembered it, because Shang Qinghua was under no real delusions about the fact that the demons could have also taken it from him just as easily and then he'd be right in the same situation, with no weapon.

The first swing of the pin was useless because he'd forgotten that it was a pin, not a sword. The sides weren't sharp at all, only the point. The point that he twisted and dug into the small beast as hard as he could.

It yelped in pain and dropped him. Shang Qinghua scrambled desperately to cling to the first branch he hit, knowing that he wouldn't survive a fall that far. If he even got a chance to fall! Because the beast wasn't just hungry now as it twisted to lunge at him again. It was angry, and this little bit of human-smelling prey was going to die!

Shang Qinghua squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the pain and hoping it'd be quick. That the little beast would eat his head first like the demon leader had planned to, rendering him unable to feel as it devoured the rest of him. "My king..." he whimpered, even knowing that there was no way that Mobei could find him in time. Even if he bothered to look.

But the pain didn't come. The beast's teeth and claws didn't land on him. Holding his breath, he cracked one eye open. And nearly fell in his shock. It was frozen solid mid-leap, back paws still connected to the branch it'd been leaping from, claws outstretched. And slowly, the weight of it made the branch dip until it slid off and fell to the ground to shatter.

But Shang Qinghua barely even looked at the spot it landed, because there was something else on the ground that drew his attention and held it in an iron grip. Something more dangerous, more beautiful, and staring directly at him.

"My king," Shang Qinghua said faintly, his grip going lax in automatic response for just a moment before reality caught up and he had to cling to the branch even tighter. "Ah!"

"Shang Qinghua," Mobei-Jun said, staring up at him. He stepped forward until he was right under the branch that his servant dangled from. "Let go."

"My king, I can't!" he wailed, fear creeping in. Did Mobei find out about his condition and decide he wasn't worth keeping alive anymore? Had he changed his mind while he'd been gone after leaving him at the inn? "I'll fall if I let go! I don't have my sword, and if I fall I'll surely die!"

The demon king growled. "This king orders you to let go!"

This was it. This was how he was going to die. Would falling be better than being frozen to death? Probably! Shang Qinghua swallowed, praying that he wouldn't wake up in some other of his short stories after he died. And then he released the branch, letting himself fall.

The fall... was shorter than he'd expected. But still managed to knock the air from his lungs as he landed on a cool, spongy surface. His eyes snapped open to see what'd happened, and he immediately froze. Figuratively, thankfully.

Mobei-Jun was still staring at him, but from so much closer. Because Shang Qinghua was laying in his hands. Sprawled out, winded, but alive. And the focus point of every ounce of attention that the demon king had to spare at the moment, enough to make him begin to tremble at the intensity. "M-my king...?"

It was like a switch was flipped by the sound of his voice. Mobei didn't remove his gaze, but he started to handle the tiny human in his grasp, manipulating Shang Qinghua's limbs, turning him over in his hands, and even pushing up one pant leg high over his thigh, making the man blush red. What was his king doing?! And oh gods, if Mobei noticed the way his manhandling was making him horny, he'd crush him for daring!

"My king, what- that is, why- How did you find me?" he asked, sputtering as he pretended that the chilled fingers feeling over his leg weren't making him think about Mobei's hands elsewhere on his body.

"Mm. Qinghua called for me," Mobei said, giving him another slow look over. "We will return to the Underground Palace and report to Consort Shen that you are well."

Shang Qinghua swallowed heavily. His bro had actually been worried about him? "Yeah, okay."

It was agreement enough for Mobei-Jun, who didn't wait for any more permission before bringing his servant close and tucking him directly into his robes. If there was an embarrassed squeak of surprise muffled by the layers of demonic silk, he didn't bother to comment on it as he summoned yet another portal, his hand automatically going to cover the small lump that Shang Qinghua made. It felt like a small coal pressed to his chest, almost burning hot.

He would ignore it.

The moment that Mobei-Jun stepped out of the portal, Shen Qingqiu pulled away from Binghe's still fretting (and slightly sulky) grasp to approach him. "Did you find him? Is he-"

"Shang Qinghua is well," Mobei-Jun said, interrupting him. He kept his hand in place, feeling his adviser squirming against him to get out. Mobei-Jun was not ready to allow it. "This king will take him to the Northern Palace. He will be safe there." Safe when he obviously hadn't been in the care of his own sect. Mobei-Jun had been foolish to think they would protect him properly while he recovered.

When Shen Qingqiu flinched minutely at the unsaid rebuke, Luo Binghe growled at his right hand. "Mobei, you can't speak to him like that!"

"No, no, it's perfectly fine. I was supposed to protect him while he's in his current... condition," Shen Qingqiu said, taking a step to put himself directly between them. "Our Mu-shidi prescribed him some medicinal teas to take. I'll send them to the North once I'm able to collect them."

Mobei-Jun nodded slowly before turning to rip open another portal.

"One more thing, Mobei-Jun," Shen Qingqiu said suddenly, reaching to grasp Mobei-Jun's cloak to stop him. He ignored the sounds of jealousy behind him, instead focusing on the demon who'd paused to glance back at him. "He's very fragile like this. So please, be gentle with him. It would be very easy for my shidi to be injured."

Staring for a moment, Mobei-Jun gave another small nod before stepping through the portal and out into the halls of the Northern Palace. He didn't pause there, heading directly for his chambers. After his ascension, he'd naturally moved into the king's chambers in the heart of the palace. It would be the safest inhabitable room in the palace. Servants and courtiers hurried to get out of his way, some of the latter considering approaching him to talk before seeing the intensity of his face and thinking better of it. No one would get between the king and his intended target, no matter what it was. Particularly considering the temper he'd been in lately.

It was only when he slowed down in approaching the door to his chambers that he felt the shivering under his hand. The ice demon paused, looking down. Shang Qinghua was cold without the warming spells sewn into his usual robes. In addition to his smaller size... No, Mobei-Jun's rooms would not be appropriate for him at the moment. He needed to be someplace warmer. At least until better clothes and new spells could be sourced.

Thankfully, the answer to that was clear: the door directly across from Mobei-Jun's. Where he had had Shang Qinghua's things moved to immediately upon his return to the North after leaving him in the inn. Including the fireplace that'd been installed years ago to keep the room warmer than the rest of the palace. More appropriate than leaving him in the wing he'd resided in as heir.

Inside, a few servants were still busy arranging things, comparing their work to sketches made of the human's old room to try and copy the arrangement. They jumped in surprise at the sudden entrance of their king before dropping into low bows.

"Out," he said sharply. "From now on, no one enters without orders. Under penalty of death."

Mobei-Jun didn't care to pay attention to the responding collection of fearful agreements, waiting until they'd all hurried their way out of the room and closed the door behind them. Ice crept up over it, sealing the entrance. He would not risk someone coming in and finding Shang Qinghua in his weakened state. Not when the new status of his position meant that the very man he was hiding had not had time to flush out all but the most loyal.

Satisfied with his efforts so far, Mobei-Jun only then reached into his robes, carefully curling claw-tipped fingers around the small lump tucked against him, and drawing his adviser out into the light.

Shang Qinghua's face was a bright glowing red and the author was pretty sure that it was going to combust any moment now. Not only had he heard how much his bro was actually worrying about him, got some pretty good evidence that no, his king hadn't decided he didn't want him around anymore, but he'd spent a full ten minutes inside his robes! Inside! Pressed up against that gorgeous body he'd been dreaming about since before he'd been reborn in this world and even held in place there! It was a fantasy come true! Okay, so maybe not the tiny and still kinda in pain part, but still!

"My king, you saved me!" he gasped, because talking was easier than trying to focus on keeping his body calm when it very much did not want to be calm. "You have my everlasting thanks for coming to my rescue again even though I'm not sure how you found me so fast, and with such amazing timing! Not that you aren't always amazing of course, but I would have been monster dinner if you hadn't come for me just in time."

Mobei-Jun nodded, a look of satisfaction on his face. "Qinghua called for me."

If it were possible, he might have blushed harder. "Ah, yes. I guess I did." Not that he'd thought it'd do any good, but who wouldn't think of someone so beautiful in their last moments?

"This king will always come when you call for him," the demon said. He strode over to his adviser's desk, taking a seat on the chair he'd ordered for himself, but didn't put him down. Instead, he kept Shang Qinghua in his hand, fingers rising up to cup around him. Making sure that the cultivator could not easily fall as he took his time to study him once more, this time a little less frantic. "Consort Shen said you would be small. He did not say why."

Recognizing the demand for information for what it was, Shang Qinghua hurried to explain, telling about the mix-up in medications and how Mu Qingfang was going to personally see to their replacement now that he was no longer shrinking. When he got to the part about the ill-fated trip to town, he made sure to bring up the trick he'd played on the kidnappers, feeling particularly proud of it even if it hadn't completely gone as planned. He rolled his shoulders at the reminder as he talked about being thrown away and the attack of the little beast. It would have made for a good adventure story about someone else, but Mobei's face turned stormier as he talked, making him nervous.

Shang Qinghua shifted from foot to foot on the soft surface of his king's hand. "And then you came and stopped the beast from getting me, and that's it. I really am grateful for it, my king. I'm sure once Mu-shidi gets a chance to patch up the scrapes and bruises, I'll be right as rain again. Well, except for the size bit. We're still figuring that part out."

"You will not be returning there," Mobei-Jun said with a growl, his hand flexing, making Shang Qinghua distinctly aware of those claws.

He swallowed. "No, my king?"

"They failed to keep you safe while wounded," Mobei-Jun said, looking away. As if the situation was a direct insult to him. "You will be staying here. With this king."

Shang Qinghua felt a sense of dread set in. Staying here, in the demon realm. Even if his king was intent on protecting him (which did all kinds of things to his heart), there were plenty of demons in this palace alone that wanted him dead! Whether because he was human, because he was a cultivator, or because he spent so much time with their king, all reasons to 'accidentally' step on him! He pushed it down, trying to hide his fear from his face. "Y-yes, my king. I'm sure I can find something useful that I can do for you. Perhaps I can spy on members of your court! Most of them barely noticed me when I was normal-sized. I'll be practically invisible now!"

The demon glanced down at him again, frowning as he set him down on the desk at last, clawed fingertips giving a small tug to the green robes he was wearing. The ones made by Ning Yingying. They were hopelessly torn, of course, the beast's claws doing a number on them.

"Stay here," Mobei-Jun said at last, giving no explanation as he rose to his feet. And then he was gone in a cloud of shadows, leaving Shang Qinghua blinking at the space he'd stood in.

"Okay... that was weird."

Shang Qinghua sat down on the desk, looking around the room that he'd kind of never thought he'd see again. But something was off... And not just the scale. It took a little longer to figure out what it was. Even though his stuff was there, and pretty much in the arrangement he'd had it, this wasn't the same room! It was bigger, the molding around the walls and windows nicer, and where he'd usually kept a privacy screen in front of his bed (because certain demons didn't believe in knocking), there was an actual door to a second room. It stood only slightly ajar at the moment, but he thought he could see the corner of his bed through the gap. What was going on?!

Before he could think about figuring out how to get down from his desk, higher than the one in his leisure house, the icy seal on the main door melted. Shang Qinghua jumped as it swung open almost violently, a spider demoness striding in on four of her legs, the other two sets carrying a collection of tools and supplies.

"Tsk, tsk, just as His Majesty said," she tutted, not even hesitating as she made her way over to the desk and the human cultivator there. She tugged on his clothes with disapproval, pulling the outer layer right off despite Shang Qinghua's yelped protests. "Hush hush, silly human. What are you doing, wearing the empress's colors? And in such poor condition. People will tattle and get ideas."

"I didn't have much choice?" Shang Qinghua protested, trying fruitlessly to duck away from her grasp as she took hold of him. "Hey, careful!"

The spider demon, while scary looking as all hell, was no stranger to the author. As Mobei-Jun's personal tailor, Bianzhi Zhizhu had been set on him more than once when Mobei-Jun decided that he looked too shabby, too poor, or too human to properly lurk around his palace. She was, honestly, probably one of the few outside his handpicked assistants that he trusted in the palace. Other than Mobei-Jun himself, of course! It wasn't much of a surprise that his king had allowed her in here.

"There is always a choice. Naked would be better than these," she scolded, holding up the green robes to examine them. "Sloppy stitches, uneven. Cloth too thick for someone your size. No, no, these will not do."

"My shizhi made them for me. One of Consort Shen's students," Shang Qinghua said, feeling the need to defend his favorite martial niece. "She's not a seamstress, but she tried hard!"

"Not a seamstress? That, I can tell." The spider demon tossed the robe aside with dismissive disapproval. She made quick work of measuring Shang Qinghua all over. In some instances, the cultivator had to act quickly to preserve his modesty, but still managed to lose his inner robe as well, leaving him in pants and socks, and so glad that wherever this room was, it also had a good fireplace because he'd have frozen without. "I will have to weave some cloth for you, in the right colors. It will not take long, as small as you are. Hardly a mouthful."

"Do you have to say it like that?" he whined, feeling green at the idea. Especially after only just surviving a beast wanting to eat him alive.

"Hmph." Holding him in one set of claws, she drew a thread of sticky silk forward, fixing it onto his back. It was hard not to squirm with the way the demoness kept tapping his back one side after another in a repeating cycle. Covering up the scratches from the beast's claws, he realized. "Hold your hand out. Managed to cut yourself there too. Fragile humans."

"It’s not that bad of a cut," Shang Qinghua said with a little huff. Honestly, Mobei-Jun had given him worse injuries over the years. Still, he held his hand still to let her wrap more silk around it, largely because he knew she’d pin him down to force the matter if he didn’t.

The spider woman ignored him, finishing wrapping up anything she deemed scratched up enough to warrant it before plopping him back down on the desk. "I will have the first robes done in an hour. Don’t show yourself to anyone before then."

"Don't think I'm going to be showing myself much at all until I'm back to normal anyway," Shang Qinghua said as Bianzhi Zhizhu bustled out to get started on her work, not for the first time reminding him of his home-ec teacher from his first life. He didn't think he’d actually based her on the woman, but the impression was certainly there.

It somehow wasn't a surprise to see the ice seal reforming on the door once she was gone, but still came as a bit of a relief. It wasn't like he could open the door himself, and the list of people he wanted to be able to get into the room right now was a very short one.

But since none of those people were actively there, Shang Qinghua wanted to find a way off the desk. He was a sitting duck there, and it wasn't nearly as warm on his desk as it would be by the fire.

Trouble was, he didn't exactly keep much with dangling cords or convenient slopes on his desk, and if there had been something there when he'd last been at the palace, the servants who must have moved everything in hadn't put it back. So, plan B.

Turned out, plan B sucked. It was effective, but it sucked. Plan B had involved jumping down to his chair and from there jumping to the floor. Good, right? Except that the floor was so much further down than he'd thought and now he could add a bruised tailbone to his number of issues and reasons to hate being tiny. Still, it got him to the floor!

Shang Qinghua eyeballed the door, silently telling it that it'd better stay shut while he was crossing the room because he didn't want to play Frogger with demon feet! When nothing happened, he took that as a promising sign to hustle across the floor towards the fireplace and the rug he kept in front of it for sitting on. It was big and fluffy and one of the things that Mobei had given him when he'd gotten a good trade deal set up. A very nice reward, in his less-chilly-than-before opinion.

He climbed across the rug, going as close as he dared to the low fire that someone had set up for him before sitting down and nearly vanishing in the thick fur. Maybe he could build a house and live on the rug. The very thought made him snicker to himself, running his hand over it as he laid back to catch a bit of cozy rest. To say that it had been an exhausting day was an understatement the size of Binghe's heavenly pillar. He'd earned a nap!

But no sooner than he had closed his eyes, they shot open again.

The flower. The fucking flower. More proof that the system was still pulling things from his notes and drafts.

He'd only outlined the scenes, two variations to be ready to go if the polls went well, but the readers had picked a new snake-woman wife instead of anything to do with a shrinking flower.

Version one had had Binghe shrinking, sneaking around the harem before getting caught and played with by some of the fan favorite wives before it just wore off and he turned the tables on them. Version two involved a tiny maiden who was forced to eat the herb by her corrupt guardian so he could keep her in a cage to sing for him. Binghe'd heard her voice and decided to rescue her. Papapa and bam, cured with no side effects.

How the sex was meant to work when she was tiny, he hadn't quite figured out yet. But part of the lore had involved a couple different cures. Fastest and easiest, of course, was dual cultivation with a heavenly demon, the great cure-all to most of what ails you in this world he created. Obviously, that'd been the one he was planning to go with because it involved the most sex and that's what brought readers. He could count the wearing off option out because that'd only taken a day and he'd been tiny for more than that already! He'd brainstormed a few others, but remembering them in detail (if there'd been detail to begin with), wasn't too likely. And they all involved some kind of sex and/or weddings because of course they did. And considering his very lack of a love life, especially with heavenly demons, and the fact that no one would want to marry him... yeah, those weren't gonna happen. After all, who would want to chain themselves to HIM when there were bachelors like Liu Qingge around?

(Whether his shidi would ever stop pining after his bro was completely beside the point.)

But put it all together and... he was fucked. Well, not fucked, even more firmly in forever virgin territory, but doomed to have a very bad time! Shang Qinghua would just have to hope that it wore off at some point.

And on top of it all, while he remembered the plot idea it was from, and was pretty sure he'd recognize the name if he heard it, that was it. He didn't remember where it grew, except that it was super rare. Maybe Cucumber had had a point about having too many rare flowers in the book.

"System, you really need to stop pulling shit from my drafts without telling me," he whined to no one, closing his eyes with a groan. Perhaps the system could have added in another cure because obviously there weren't tiny people all over the place. And Mu Qingfang could cure almost anything. "Why the hell am I in a scrapped wife plot?"

[User agreed to optional quest line. Quest line must be completed once started.]

Shang Qinghua made a face at the all-too familiar Google translate voice. "I sure don't remember agreeing to anything, you stupid piece of web 2.0."

Somehow, without changing its inflection, the System managed to sound sulky at the insult. [User put hand through accept button. This constitutes a full and binding agreement. Quest line must be completed once started.]

"What, the quest line of try not to get eaten by a house cat or stepped on because someone wasn't looking where they were walking?" he grumbled. "Alright, give me the details."

[Activation phrase: Where's my happy ending? Questline: "Small Matters." First stage: "Tainted Medicine," complete. Current stage: "Eyes to Watch, Ears to Listen" in progress. There is no time limit.]

Oh, he was really wishing he'd paid more attention when the System had spoken up about the optional quest in the first place. He'd have made it very, very clear that he didn't want to do any more quests, especially optional ones! Fuck, he was never going to drink again.

"What do I have to do for the current stage?" he asked, pressing his palms over his eyes.

[User authorization is insufficient to access that information.]

"What?" Shang Qinghua sat up, staring at the floating window. "Then how do you expect me to complete the quest if I don't know what I'm supposed to do?!"

[User authorization is insufficient to access that information.]

"Oh, fuck you." He flopped back in the fur as the window blinked out. It almost made him miss the old days when quest objectives were just 'survive' or 'get into An Ding.' Not always easy, but he had a goal to reach at least!

"This servant will pass on that offer, Adviser Shang. The king would be unhappy after I ate you."

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua yelped, jumping up again to stare at the spider demon who'd returned while he'd been distracted. Heart pounding, he tried to get his breathing back under control. "Bianzhi Zhizhu, I didn't hear you come in. I was just talking to myself. Did you need something?"

He needed to get her a freaking bell. Someone who walked on her claws had no right to be that quiet!

"Hm." She eyed him (with all eight eyes) before shrugging it off and drifting over to the fireplace to snatch him up and bring him back to the desk. A cup of warm water was placed next to him. "I have your robes ready. More will need to be made, but for now you will have something appropriate to wear."

"Ah, right, thank you," Shang Qinghua said. "You can leave them here and I'll get changed right away."

"You will wash and change now," she said with a scoff. "So I may be sure you wear them correctly."

The author blanched. "Really, that's unnecessary. I've been dressing myself for years. I think I know how to do it by now. You've even made me clothes before!"

"That was before our master became king," the spider said. "You must be kept to a higher standard now."

She reached out to grab the inner robe she'd left him with, claws snagging on the fabric to pull it away and forcing Shang Qinghua to quickly undo the belt to avoid them being torn up more than they already were. Next went the socks, yanked off his feet. The pants followed likewise, leaving him to scramble to duck behind the cup of water for modesty.

"No, no, I am drawing the line at you washing me!" he shouted when her claws reached for him again. "Delicate human skin, remember!"

The spider demon paused, considering it, before relenting and turning her claws to the small box she'd brought. Not wanting to stay naked in the room with her (or at all because even this room wasn't warm enough for that!) for long, he scrubbed up quickly, picking bits of plant matter from his hair, the result of his fight with the beast and being thrown out into the trees no doubt, and washing around the web bandages. Since he hadn't been given any soap, there was only so much he could do, but it wasn't like he'd been outside for all that much time since he'd shrunken after all!

At least she'd thought about drying him off, because a scrap of silk was dropped within his reach, beside a folded pale blue inner robe and pants. So Shang Qinghua waited until she was looking elsewhere to reach for it and dry off, pulling on the first layer of clothes. They were, actually, surprisingly nice. Especially for an hour's work. He recognized the marks of spider demon silk, so likely Bianzhi Zhizhu's own creation too. It felt lightweight even to him.

"Alright, I'm clean and covered," he said once he'd finished with the ties to close it up.

Laying out what was obviously a few other layers, she loomed him over critically, especially at his hair, just toweled off and left to hang. Well excuse him, but it wasn't like he had a comb on him. She gestured him over. "Hm, it'll do for a start. Put these on. This is the correct order for the layers."

"How many layers do I need?" Shang Qinghua asked without expecting an answer. Including his inner robe, he counted five additional laid out, each a darker shade of blue than the last before he got to one that was a deep, midnight blue similar to what his king wore. There wasn't any patterning to them, which he couldn't complain about considering the turn-around time, but they were surprisingly warm! "Well, you've certainly outdone yourself this time."

"Merely following His Majesty's orders."

Somehow, that made Shang Qinghua blush harder than when he'd been stripped, knowing that his king was making sure he was taken care of.

Under the spider demon's supervision (and occasional correction), he pulled on all the layers and their accompanying belts, the final dark blue one hanging open. It made him want to flutter about the desk if he could be sure that no one was watching. The spider demon tied a pair of charms through his top belt herself, claws clicking at him in annoyance when he tried to help. One of them, he immediately knew what was for, as the room's chill seemed to fade away out of his notice. Oh warming spell, Daddy loves you. The other one, he wasn't sure he recognized, picking it up to peer at.

"Don't suppose you know what this one is for," he asked, not particularly expecting her to but going for the off chance. Even bad luck cases like him could get lucky sometimes. Rarely, but sometimes.

"I didn't ask," she said with a sniff. As if the idea of questioning a king was both beneath her and unheard of. "His Majesty said to see that you do not take it off."

"Well, can't disobey royal orders." Because royal brats got huffy if you did. And when it was on the same string as the warming charm, he bet that removing one would either just deactivate the other, or at the very least Mobei might take it away.

He took a seat and picked up his 'towel' to squeeze more of the moisture out of his hair. What he'd give to have Ning Yingying's doll comb again. Which reminded him that he would need to apologize for losing her pin. It was probably still out in the woods where he'd stabbed the beast with it.

"Hm," she said, studying the complete picture, motioning for him to turn around before she was satisfied. "Your hair is a mess. See that you fix it soon. But you will do. I will have more prepared within the next few days."

"I doubt I'm going to need much," Shang Qinghua protested, not that she was listening. The spider demon just slipped out the door, which once again frosted over. "Well, that was a thing. At least I'm warm again."

But talk about all dressed up with nowhere to go. Shang Qinghua turned around slowly on the desk, looking around his new room. At least, he assumed it was his new room, considering his stuff was there. Even if Mobei had decided to replace him, he doubted that some demon taking his job would be interested in the stack of yellow books that hadn't quite been put away in the bookcase yet. Reading them would have provided some good entertainment, but he wasn't particularly eager to bruise his ass even more than he had the first time, adding bruises on top of bruises. Geez, a man just couldn't get a break sometimes. So he was stuck up here for now, with only the chair in easy reach. And... he felt kind of nervous about hopping down there if he couldn't go anyplace else. Getting up would be hard, getting down would be painful, and he didn't want to be there if someone came in and sat down. Nope!

So instead, he took a seat on the table, picking up the second charm to figure out the spell on it. It wasn't hugely sophisticated, but he could feel the demonic energy powering it. Familiar energy. And with the characters used...

"I'm not sure if I'm relieved or insulted," he said flatly as he pieced it together. A tracking charm. It was a fucking tracking charm, and if that wasn't Mobei-Jun's own power linking it to the other node, he'd eat his new robes. On one side, it was great for preventing situations like the one he'd just been rescued from. On the other side, it meant that escape? Wasn't going to be all that possible. If he took it off, he bet Mobei would know in a heartbeat and he couldn't exactly cross a lot of territory all at once right now.

Not that he had any plans to escape right now! Mobei-Jun had just saved his life, had apparently given him a nice room upgrade, and sent his personal tailor to get him out of Qing Jing green. All things pointing to him planning on being at least a little nice. And... it also pointed towards things really turning around in their relationship after all. He felt his lips twitch into an unconscious smile.

Still, what could he even do for his king? It seemed like Mobei had already tossed out his idea of spying on people in the court. Did he want to just keep him around as some sort of emotional support pet? His king wasn't really the type to have entertainers around, which was good because he sucked at singing. Maybe he could learn to juggle?

He kept himself entertained and maybe a little soothed that he might not be just tossed away by coming up with more and more outlandish ideas of how he could serve his spoiled king. Some of them clearly impossible and unlikely, some of them bordering on too far for even his old reader base. Not like any of it was going to happen anyway. And as he puzzled, he sat down to try and smooth out his quickly drying hair with his fingers. One advantage to being tiny. His hair dried out super quickly, and if he didn't know better he'd say it seemed a little softer than usual. Not like he was going to complain.

Shang Qinghua was a bit caught up in his task when his king returned, but there was no mistaking that familiar chilling of the air. He jumped up to his feet, shoving his hair back over his shoulder as he turned towards the demon. "My king, you're back! I hope your business was successful. I was thinking of what I'd be able to do to keep myself busy and useful and..." He trailed off. Mobei-Jun was staring at him. That in itself wasn't entirely too unusual. The man wasn't the most expressive sometimes and staring was how he showed he was paying attention. Except he wasn't staring at his face. "Is something wrong, my king?"

Being questioned seemed to shake Mobei-Jun out of whatever it was and he scowled, thrusting a hand in Shang Qinghua's direction. The shrunken man squeaked, ready to jump back, before he noticed something dangling carefully from between claws.

A ribbon. Deep blue with tiny silver beads hanging from the ends.

He swallowed. "For me?"

"For your hair. You didn't have one," Mobei-Jun said, looking away from him. Huh. Were the tips of his ears always darker than the rest of his face?

Shang Qinghua didn't know, but he knew that his cheeks felt warm for reasons that had little to do with the warming charm hanging from his belt. "Thank you, my king." He stepped forward to accept the ribbon, daring to put his hand on the tip of a finger before moving back to make quick work of bunning up his hair once more, tying it with the pretty new gift. "I had a ribbon, but it must have gotten lost in the kidnapping. But this one's nicer."

"Hm."

There was an oddly pleased look to Mobei's face that he wasn't quite sure what to do with, but Shang Qinghua could put himself back on topic. "So anyway, as I was saying-"

Before he could list anything he'd thought up, even the tamest of the ideas, Mobei's hand swept down and plucked him up from the table, leaving Shang Qinghua to cling tightly to his king's fingers with a squeak. In no time at all, he was plopped down on a silk covered shoulder, hair sweeping over him and blocking his view outward. "No. Stay still. Out of sight."

Heart pounding in his ears, Shang Qinghua nodded even if he couldn't be seen. He was on his king's shoulder. On Mobei-fucking-Jun's shoulder. Yes, he'd already taken such a ride with Cucumber, but to compare the two had to be like comparing him to his protagonist son. So not the same thing! When Mobei started to move, he made quick to sit down, holding the edges of his cloak with tight fingers to keep from falling. Would his king catch him if he did? He absolutely would be able to. If he wanted.

"My king..." he said quietly, knowing he'd be heard. That pointed ear was too close to him not to hear him, even if he'd only had human hearing. "Where are we going?"

Mobei turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of his eye. "Court."

Brief, to the point. Clear as mud. That was his favorite demon, alright.

Shang Qinghua looked down as his king turned his face away again, hair slipping just enough to give him a great view. Right down his robe over his chest. Oh boy. Self-control, Qinghua. Get excited and get yeeted out a window when Mobei-Jun smelled him. But oh, what a view. Focus! "Why are you taking me to court, my king? I can't take notes for you like this."

The demon snorted, clearly finding Shang Qinghua's idea on the matter more than a little silly. "No. But you will be safe."

"Safe? In a room full of powerful demons who don't like me?" he asked, disbelief leaking into his voice despite his best attempts at holding it in.

"No." Mobei's growl made him shiver. "Safe with this king."

"Oh, okay," he said in a tiny voice, which was probably drowned out by the sound of his heart doing an absolute flip in his chest. My king, you can't just say things like that!

They fell silent well before coming across anyone else, Shang Qinghua adjusting his grip on Mobei-Jun's robes for better stability, trying not to move around too much for the double purpose of not being seen and also not distracting his king. As they entered the throne room, he could hear that there were already more than a few demons roaming around in waiting, a hush falling over the room when Mobei-Jun's presence was noticed. Which of course didn't take long.

The ice demon took his seat and gestured for things to begin.

Before long, it became hard not to fidget. Not only was there a very distracting view, but he was used to sitting at his desk just below the throne taking notes and recording the events, requests, and foolish challenges. Those... rarely went well for the challenger, but that was to be expected considering they were going against Mobei-Jun. But this time, he wasn't at his desk. He had no brush and paper. Just a strand of hair that had drifted into his hand that he was reluctant to release.

Of course, with his view of the other demons blocked, he didn't notice the looks of confusion on some faces as they sniffed the air, or the glare from Mobei-Jun that told them to keep their mouths shut. Still, the fact that they didn't see the king's human pet yet could cleanly smell his fresh scent was puzzling. The cultivator hadn't learned how to become invisible, had he? He was already far too aware of their movements as it was. Invisibility would make it twice as dangerous to be anything but loyal to Mobei-Jun, and by proxy, Luo Binghe.

The less clever ones saw the empty desk and assumed that meant the king was going fully un-advised and therefore tried to be sly with their dealings. Shang Qinghua couldn't see them, but his position and size didn't mean his hearing was diminished at all, or his spiritual awareness. He stood up slowly, moving closer to Mobei's ear while making sure that he was still out of sight.

"My king, that clan has failed to send their annual tribute three times this year claiming famine has taken out their exports, but have bragged about their newest golden palace in the west to other lords," Shang Qinghua whispered. "They're clearly hiding assets, but petition you to bail themselves out of their debts. We will want to see where their income is coming from before acting."

Mobei nodded almost imperceptibly. "This king will consider your petition later. Dismissed."

For each group of demons that stepped up to report to or ask something of his king, Shang Qinghua murmured his intel on them, for better or worse. It felt as natural as sitting and doing his notes had. Well, perhaps not quite as natural, but it was good to be useful again. Perhaps this was something that he could do for his king. The courtiers didn't see him, so they thought they could pull one over his king. He would show them how much of a lie that was.

Of course, getting too comfortable was dangerous, and he nearly yelled when some idiot of a demon thought that the position of adviser was now open, and tried to step close to offer their services. First of all, the only demon he wanted that close was the one letting him sit on his shoulder. Second, stay in your lane! That was HIS job, for HIS king!

"I've been investigating him for embezzling for weeks before your ascension, my king," he whispered, glaring at the vague figure he could just glimpse through Mobei-Jun's hair as the ice demon tilted his head ever so slightly towards him. "I wanted to track down where he's stashing the money before acting."

In view of dozens of demons, Mobei-Jun of course could not answer, but a narrowing of eyes and a darkening of his expression was enough of a cue for the other demon to take a step back, hastily excusing himself and ducking out of the throne room.

Still, he was not the only one coming to try and snatch a position around the newly crowned king. And whether or not Shang Qinghua had something to whisper about them, Mobei soon grew tired of the circus of it, standing abruptly. Once again, the hall went silent.

"Today's audience is over. Leave."

The throne room cleared out in a hasty rush of demons who knew better than to try and delay for a private word. Mobei-Jun had not been known for his endless patience as a prince (with one singular exception), and there was no reason to believe that'd changed with taking the crown and becoming more powerful. Only one demon lingered at the door, an elderly goat demon who had been part of the lower court for more than a few generations of northern kings.

"Your Majesty, if I may beg a brief moment," he said softly, ready to leave if the request was so much as ignored. When he received a nod, albeit with a frown, he continued. "Forgive this lowly one, but I wanted to inquire about your human adviser. Did my lord find him?"

Hidden, Shang Qinghua had to really try not to snicker. A very minor lord working as a clerk, the literal old goat had been remarkably polite to him, but the human knew how good his sense of smell was. Smelling him and not seeing him had to be driving him (and the other demons who didn't ruin their noses with perfumes) to distraction.

"Yes," Mobei-Jun said simply in response. "He is well."

My king, sitting tiny on your shoulder is fun and all, but being tiny does not count as well!

"Ah, excellent. I hope that he will be returning to court before long?" the goat asked, his voice hopeful. "His assistants have been missing having his direction."

Mobei-Jun was silent for a moment before nodding. Shang Qinghua belonged there. It had been a mistake to take him to his sect. "Hm. Soon."

"That is good news. Thank you, Your Majesty, for your time and confirmations. This lowly one will delay you no longer."

"It's nice to know I've been missed," Shang Qinghua said quietly once they were alone in the throne room. Feeling a chilling of the air, he added quickly, "By my assistants, I mean! I know you wanted me to come back, my king. You made that very clear."

His shoulders relaxing, something that the man sitting on one could read very clearly, Mobei nodded. "When you’ve recovered, you will return to your desk. This king will carry you until then."

"Carry me, my king?" the author asked, leaning forward and reaching a hand out to part the black strands just enough to see Mobei-Jun's face.

"You will come to court with me daily," Mobei-Jun said, taking no input on the matter. "I have use of your council."

Shang Qinghua let out a breath, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders as physically as if there'd been a wooden board there. Mobei-Jun was letting him be useful after all! He smiled brightly at the demon, holding back his shiver when they passed through a portal into the hallway in front of the royal bedchambers. Clearly, his king was also reluctant to deal with any other lords that may be hanging about the hallway outside the throne room.

"I'll happily help out! I'm sure I could whip up a talisman to make it harder to notice me too, as long as I'm given paper to do it," he said brightly. "And actually, I'll need some anyway. I should write to the sect so they know I'm alright. Or, well, that Shen-shixiong is alright. Doubt Lord Luo would have taken him back yet. And I'll need someone to send me Mu-shidi's medicine too. Unless you'd be willing to take me there."

Mobei-Jun reached up to wrap his hand around him, bringing the human in front of him to stare down at. "You will not be returning to your mountain until cured."

Clinging to the demon's fingers, Shang Qinghua felt the urge to squirm in his hand, but had the logical sense not to wiggle around too much to keep from being dropped. "Not that I would dare to argue, but why not?"

"They failed to protect you," Mobei-Jun said, calling back to their conversation earlier.

Shang Qinghua felt a little smile sneaking out. Well, he supposed that maybe his king really meant it after all. He still wasn't entirely sure that he wasn't being kept like a particularly smart pet, but he'd take it. "Okay. I'll stay close to you until I'm all cured. And then we can go back to normal."

That still failed to completely erase the frown from his king's face, but he still nodded in agreement. Mobei-Jun placed his free hand beneath Shang Qinghua's feet, opening the other to allow him to stand, and to allow the demon to inspect the two charms on his belt. "Good. Keep this when you sleep as well. It will keep you warm."

"Won't my fireplace do that, my king?" he asked slowly, before quickly adding, "Not that I'm ungrateful for the spell. It's kept me very comfortable. And the bigger room! The servants did a very good job at moving everything. I didn't even notice it was a different room at first. But you'll have to tell me where in the palace it is."

Mobei-Jun took the hand that was no longer holding his adviser to point to the door across from his, which was still sealed with ice as it had been on the inside. "Here."

The author had been about to thank him again when he paused, looking between the frozen door and the grander one just across the hallway. The door he KNEW was for the reigning king. Also known as his own Mobei-Jun. Which meant that the other rooms...

Were the chambers that had been left empty since the last Mobei-Jun's wife, his king's mother, passed away, because it was intended only for the closest to the king. In PIDW, Binghe had taken it over to be a home away from home, never content to have his wives in a measly guest room. To have been put in it himself?

His face immediately glowed red. "My king! That is the queen's room! I know you're unmarried, but surely there's something more suited to a servant than here!"

"You dislike the room?" Mobei-Jun asked, expression darkening.

"No, no, it's a lovely room! But you can't say that I deserve to stay there," Shang Qinghua protested.

"Hmph. It is the closest room. It is appropriate. You and your things will remain where they’ve been placed."

The author let out a small whine, knowing an order when he heard one. Did Mobei even know what he was doing to him? People would talk when they noticed! The servants already knew, since they were the ones to move everything! "Yes, my king..."

"If the charm works, you will sleep in here tonight," Mobei said. But he didn't go through the door he'd stated was Shang Qinghua's. He opened his own, striding inside and taking his human along for the ride. It, honestly, was also still being organized, but was maybe further along. And as he'd fully expected from a royal bedroom, the space was fancier. Perhaps a little more than he'd picture for his king, but time would change those things no doubt.

"I, well, I don't have anything to sleep in," Shang Qinghua admitted, even if it should have been obvious. "I'll have to just use my inner robe."

"Yes," Mobei-Jun said after the barest of pauses.

He set Shang Qinghua down on his desk, taller still than his own. Yep, he was going be stuck up there for sure. And convincing his king to let him set up ladders everywhere like some borrower's obstacle course didn't seem all that likely.

"Ah, I'm sure I can make myself a good spot to sleep if you'll have the servants send over one of my robes or something. To make a bed out of."

"No."

"Then where am I going to sleep, my king?" Shang Qinghua asked. "It's not safe to sleep on the floor. People walk around without looking down all the time.”

Wordlessly, the demon pointed in the area that experience told him would be a bedroom like his had. "In there. You will remain in reach outside these rooms unless this king says otherwise."

He wasn't given any time to protest the need for occasional privacy before there was a quiet tap on the door and one of Mobei's hands came down over him, pushing him down onto his knees and hiding him from view. The brief and violent thought of how easy it would be for his king to just push down and absolutely squash him did not help his heart rate!

"Enter," Mobei-Jun said.

From under his hand (and wasn't Shang Qinghua just always under his thumb?), the human cultivator could hear a servant asking forgiveness for the interruption, followed by more footsteps carrying something that must have been heavy and... sloshing?

"Does his Majesty wish this servant to brew him tea?" the first servant asked hesitantly.

"No."

He could hear the servant jump. Hell, if he'd been able to move, he'd have jumped. His king's tone left no room to argue, not that any sane person would try to argue with Mobei-Jun if they valued their hides.

"Get out," the ice demon said after a moment. There was a scurry of quick activity and the near slamming of the large door as the servants indeed got out as quickly as they would if something chased them.

Only once the door was shut again did Mobei move his hand, allowing his servant to properly sit up once more. "My king, please, a little warning before you do that," he begged, flustered. "Being this small is scary enough as it is."

Mobei-Jun stared at him for a moment before nodding, just a little. Which was good enough for him!

"Thank you again, my king! So, what was it that the servants brought?" Shang Qinghua asked. Trying to look around Mobei-Jun to see it was an exercise in futility after all. Even at their normal differences in size, the demon was a wall.

Mobei-Jun obligingly moved aside to let him see what turned out to be a tub of ice slush. He let out a quiet 'oh.' Well, of course his king would want to take a bath. He'd had a busy day after all, what with fighting kidnappers, having to come rescue him, and then dealing with members of his court scheming for power.

"Ah, I see. Well, I can go someplace else to give you privacy," Shang Qinghua said, trying to keep the blood that seemed to want to split between his face and... elsewhere from showing and giving him away.

"No," Mobei-Jun said, frowning. "Shang Qinghua will stay here."

"But, my king, wouldn't you rather have some privacy?" the author asked, his voice rising higher. "You could just drop me off in my new room. It's safe in there, isn't it?"

"Within reach," the demon repeated before nudging him with a pair of fingers to his back. "You will wash as well."

Shang Qinghua's eyes flew wide. "My king, I can't wash in ice slush, I'll freeze to death! And Bianzhi Zhizhu had me wash up before she let me put on the new clothes. I'm clean, really!"

But Mobei-Jun only snorted and pushed him further across the desk. It took him a moment to figure out why. And to connect with what he'd overheard. Because despite the fact that Mobei-Jun rarely ever drank hot tea, or anything hot for that matter, there was a cup gently steaming on the other side of the desk.

"Is that.. for me?" he asked, looking up at him. The fact that the servants knew to bring it meant that Mobei must have given the order before court. Which was really sweet, actually. Though maybe he'd just already been smelly after all the mess with the kidnapping. That was probably it. "Of course, I shouldn't have doubted. My king is too wise to make such a mistake."

His king nodded before turning away from the desk to make his way to the much larger ice bath. It wasn't until his cloak dropped to the floor that Shang Qinghua remembered the first days after their meeting and just how shameless he could be! He quickly spun around before he could be treated to skin, hiding his face in his hands. Have mercy! He's only a simple man!

There was a sloshing of water and ice as Mobei stepped into his tub, and then it was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Qinghua. Wash."

"R-right," he sputtered, going for his belt and wrapping the charms around his wrist before anything else could come off. "Just... don't look, okay? Humans are more skin-shy than demons, you know."

He didn't need to look to feel Mobei-Jun's glance of amusement. And he wasn't going to look either! Because there were just some things that would utterly break his control and make him lose face with his king forever. If Mobei didn't just get disgusted and change his mind about him after all.

"Very well. This king will avert his eyes. For your human sensibilities."

"Thank you, my king," Shang Qinghua said, waiting a moment before quickly pulling his robes off and setting them aside before scrambling into the cup with a hiss. It was just a touch too hot, but after the day he'd had? It was fucking magical. Even if the cup wasn't really wide enough to stretch out his legs in, being a cup and all, and not actually a tub. It was still nice and deep and he could lean against the side with a small groan that slipped out. Maybe the wipe-down had handled some of the surface grime, but it was nothing compared to an actual bath.

He stayed there, just letting the grime soak off his skin while the heat did wonders for the giant bruise his entire body felt like before reaching up to undo his hair, setting the ribbon he'd been gifted aside carefully so it'd be safe and bringing his hair down around his shoulders. He had to wiggle a bit to actually sink in far enough to get his hair wet, picking out bits of plant debris that he'd missed when finger-combing it earlier. Of course, it was about then that he realized something.

"Um... If it's not too much trouble, could this servant beg for a bit of soap?" he asked quietly, ducking down further in the cup to hide everything from the neck down. Maybe he hadn't been nearly so modest in his life as a web novelist, but give him a break! He'd been living in a world where a glimpse of an ankle was considered risque and flirty for decades! A man's habits changed after that long! "I'm sorry, I should have thought to ask before you were in your bath."

"Mm. It is no trouble."

Shang Qinghua squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of Mobei standing up from his tub, all too able to picture the sight of the cool water running down his skin. He was so much more built than when the then-disciple had gotten an accidental eyeful at the inn all those years ago, and he'd been beautiful then.

Shang Qinghua, get a hold of yourself, he told himself firmly. Thinking about Mobei-Jun wet and naked was not going to help his composure!

Neither did the fact that he automatically looked up when a shadow fell over him.

Mobei-Jun stood over him, blue eyes fixed on the shrunken human, not moving. Shang Qinghua knew that he should cover himself up, should protest that his king was definitely looking! But he couldn't look away himself. Fuck, he'd made the demon far too gorgeous for his own good. For Shang Qinghua's own good! It took him probably a full minute of staring before he realized he should drop his eyes, which... was an even worse idea. The desk wasn't waist-high on someone like Mobei. Meaning there was a lot that wasn't exactly covered. Or, you know, at all.

Clearly unbothered by his own nudity, Mobei still remembered to look away from his human servant after a moment, holding his hand out. "Soap."

It took effort to tear his eyes away (because oh gods he was huge and gorgeous and he'd happily die on that thing), but Shang Qinghua latched onto the distraction to shake his head clear. "Ah, right, thank you," he said quickly, reaching up to take the bit in Mobei-Jun's claws that'd been broken off from the larger piece the demon used. "I'm certain to smell better once I've scrubbed up."

"Qinghua smells... fine," Mobei said, glancing at him again before turning away to return to his own tub.

He was going to have to blame the red in his face on the hot water of his bath at this rate. Particularly when, as he started to lather up the soap, he put together that this was his king's soap. Not only did it smell like him, but it'd probably been used to rub over- Nope, not going there! Control!

It would help hide his own scent, he told himself, scrubbing at the dirt that'd somehow collected on his knees. How did that even get there? If they smelled the same, demons might just think that Mobei-Jun had been near him at some point, and not that he was hidden on his shoulder secretly listening in at meetings. Yes. It was a good move for safety. And of course, Mobei-Jun would only have his own preferred products in his room. That was why he'd given him some. It was convenient. Simple as that.

He didn't look when Mobei got back into his tub, or when the demon climbed out once the ice had melted and he was done washing. Not even when he heard the sound of cloth that said his king was dressing himself. It wasn't until Mobei returned to the desk with a piece of cloth in hand that Shang Qinghua looked up again.

"Ah, thank you my king," he said, reaching for it. When Mobei-Jun didn't bring it into reach, he blinked up at him in confusion. "My king? I can't reach from here."

"It will get wet. Get out first," Mobei-Jun said. He turned his face away. "This king will not look until you are covered."

Oh, that wasn't fair. Swallowing, he stood up in the water, carefully climbing out so he wouldn't slip or risk tipping the cup. Even with the warming charm still wrapped around his wrist, he shivered and quickly walked over to where he could tug the fabric out of Mobei's relaxed fingers and wrap it around himself, using the extra to pat himself dry. Looking for where he'd put his clothes, he saw the demon move his robe away . "My king?"

"You were wounded earlier. You should have told this king," Mobei-Jun said with a frown. He didn't give back the robe, picking it up along with Shang Qinghua's other clothes. "Stay put."

Face going red, he tightened his grip on the drying cloth, seriously concerned that Mobei was going to take it away next as punishment for keeping secrets. "Please give me back my clothes, my king. I can't just stay wrapped up in this!"

But Mobei-Jun didn't obey, opening a small box from a shelf and taking out a small jar before returning to his desk and putting his hand down on it, palm up. "Come here."

"This servant is very sorry for keeping secrets from his king, but surely this is too much for a punishment," Shang Qinghua said quickly, trying to ignore the burning in his face. "I just didn't think it was important enough to bother you with. You have certainly done worse. Before! Before we talked things out.”

Well, screamed things out, but the point still stood! But so did Mobei-Jun's stubbornness, and Shang Qinghua quickly found himself herded towards the open hand with the demon's other, and made to lay down across it.

"Roll over," Mobei ordered, giving him a nudge that, while gentle, brokered no arguments. "You will show this king your back."

He didn't have any choice but to do as ordered, rolling face down on Mobei's (very large) hand and letting the cloth be pushed down to his waist. At least face down, Mobei wouldn't see the way that his cheeks were going to light completely on fire. Any moment now.

At first, the demon didn't do anything, which was weirdly both soothing and more worrying. What was he going to do? Was he waiting to give him time to stress about it? Still thinking of a suitable punishment? Other than embarrassing his servant to death, that was. But then he finally acted, and it wasn't... it wasn't what Shang Qinghua had expected.

Cold fingers only just lightly touched his back, skirting the edges of the spider silk bandage. Once he convinced himself to relax, it actually felt nice, like a cool cloth on heated skin. It was almost too bad when the touch left, but it wasn't gone for long, returning with a thin balm that smelled of mint.

"My king?" he asked softly, turning his head to see him from the corner of his eye. Mobei-Jun's face was focused as he began to spread the balm over his back, careful to keep it off of the bandages.

"This king was careless," Mobei-Jun said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet as he worked. "It should have been obvious that you were injured. If anything causes you pain, you WILL inform me. Even something small."

Oh Mobei, you can't just say things like that! How was he supposed to defend himself from something like that without making a fool of himself? Especially when he was laying naked in his hand! And Mobei was touching him! Also? Who gave him the right to be that good with his hands?!

Unaware of Shang Qinghua's mental crisis, Mobei-Jun continued to treat the rising bruise that spread over most of his servant's back. The spider silk was a sure sign that more wounds were hidden beneath, something he would have to ask the royal tailor about. The fact that she hadn't seen fit to tell him irked the ice demon, but the fact that she had already seen to his wounds earned her her life back in the same act.

"I... I think you've gotten it all," Shang Qinghua said at last, his voice tight with embarrassment for some reason. "Can I get dressed now?"

A darker, less civilized part of the ice demon's mind wanted to say no, but he firmly clamped down on that thought. He would not break the fragile trust he was starting to build with his cultivator. Mobei-Jun carefully wiped away the excess balm before returning his hand to the desk. But instead of giving Shang Qinghua back the nice but quickly made clothes that his tailor had made for his servant and adviser, Mobei-Jun offered a fresh bundle of clothes.

"These, for sleep," he said, looking away as the human hurried out of his hand, covering himself once more with the cloth. Not well, however, the dampness from his skin made it cling closely to his form. "More will be complete by morning."

"Oh? Oh, good," Shang Qinghua said. He quickly grabbed the bundle, looking up at his king who was patiently studying the wall. Still, he didn't fully drop the cloth until he had the robe pulled on. It was light enough that he barely felt it, and as he studied the cloth, there was a very subtle shine of snowflakes. The socks were the same, white with the barest hint of a texture difference to show the design. But the advantage was that they were both very warm.

The two of them together practically screamed 'property of Mobei-Jun.' Oh, he was being dressed like a pet for sure. Which was better than a lot of things. At least if some other demon saw him, they'd have good reason to think twice before doing anything to him. Killing your king's pet human had to carry a hefty punishment after all. Then again, unless they were already familiar with his face, assuming they didn't smell him too much, maybe they'd think he was just a small demon like the kidnappers had. Not that it made much of a difference.

"Are they acceptable?" Mobei-Jun asked, snapping Shang Qinghua out of his thoughts enough to realize that he'd zoned out.

"Yes! Yes, they're very nice my king," he said quickly, patting everything down and making sure it was all arranged before tying the belt. He moved the charms back over to it, making sure they stayed in place.

The demon nodded in satisfaction and motioned him closer once again. Shang Qinghua hurried forward and was quickly covered by a hand once more. This time... was less frightening than the first. Obviously, under-the-hand time meant someone was going to come in. And indeed, there was once more a soft tap, and a servant permitted. The tub was dragged back out of the room, and even his human sense of smell could tell that food was brought in instead. His mouth watered at the scent, only just now realizing how hungry he'd been.

"That smells delicious," Shang Qinghua said once they were alone again and Mobei-Jun allowed him to stand up again. The plate looked simple, at least to Mobei clan standards, and he couldn't help but notice there was a small, shallow cup set beside it, empty and waiting to be filled. For someone his size, it made for a large bowl, actually.

Mobei-Jun didn't respond, simply, moving bits of most dishes into the cup before pushing it across towards the human, along with what honestly looked a bit like a modern bobby pin. One of the wide ones. He couldn't help but be fascinated with the way the demon's ears were a little darker than normal as Mobei presented them.

With the lack of a chair and table that he could actually sit at, Shang Qinghua quickly sat down on the desk, pulling the cup into his lap. It was lighter than he'd thought, and quickly warmed from the food piled high into it. "Thank you, my king." Knowing that little bits of food like this would get cold quickly, he didn't wait for Mobei-Jun to start eating, using the pin like training chopsticks to pick up his food. They were a little too stiff for the purpose, but it was better than eating with his hands. And he doubted that there would be a sewing kit in the royal chambers to rob some pins out of. Not that those made for the best eating utensils either, seeing as they were sharp.

A couple bites in, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, peeking up at the demon. Who was still staring at him, his own plate untouched except for what he'd given Shang Qinghua.

"Um... aren't you going to eat too, my king?" he asked, glancing between the plate and Mobei-Jun's face. "The food is really good. You should try some."

Mobei-Jun nodded wordlessly, but still didn't look away as he picked up his own chopsticks to start eating. It struck Shang Qinghua that he'd never really had a proper meal with his king in the decades that they'd known each other. At least, not without one of them being injured. Mobei teleporting into his office to steal some of his snacks didn't really count, and neither did his trying to stuff his cheeks with melon seeds before being spirited away to do something in the palace for his king. And maybe being cursed (poisoned? What did this even count as?) kind of fell into the injury category, but it was still... nice. The thought put a smile on his face as he went back to his 'bowl' of food.

"My king, is there anything important to prepare for on the agenda for tomorrow?" Shang Qinghua asked as he finished up, laying his improvised chopsticks across the cup once he'd set it aside. He knew that he could only do so much preparing, all considering, but if he knew who they might be dealing with, issues that were going to be worked on in court, then maybe he could put together what information he had on the matter.

"Hm. Nothing important. Dress warm," Mobei-Jun said. He continued to finish off his plate, pushing their dishes to the side to be dealt with later and by someone else.

"Of course, my king." Shang Qinghua didn't point out the fact that he had very few clothing options at the moment, and a winter cloak was not one of them. He'd just have to hope that the charm was enough for whatever Mobei had planned. A trip outside, perhaps? Maybe he could wear the green robe under the blue for another layer... It was too bad no one had gotten around to making him boots. "Um... my king?"

Mobei-Jun looked at him, eyebrow raised as he waited for the human to continue.

"I should write a letter. To my sect, I mean. Shen-shixiong and I were just supposed to be making a quick errand when we were grabbed, and I'm sure they're worried about both of us," he said, hurrying on when his king's frown deepened. "That way I can tell them that I'm all good and safe and really don't need them to try and send a rescue party. I don't have to go with to deliver it, of course, if you want me to stay here. But it would give them some peace of mind. Mu-shidi was really worried about this whole plant curse thing. And I think I might have figured out something about the plant responsible, so if I could send him that information it might be able to help him figure out the cure. Which would be good, right?"

"You know the cause?" Mobei asked without saying yes or no to the letter.

He hesitated. Yes, he'd drafted that one shrinking flower, but being sure that the System had used the same flower was another thing. "Maybe. It's a very rare plant if I'm right, and might have looked similar to one that was actually meant to be in the tea. I'm not entirely sure why they had some on Qian Cao Peak, unless it was harvested in similar accidental fashion. The disciples there are nearly as organized as mine. But it's a place to begin looking, isn't it?"

Mobei-Jun nodded slowly. "You will be given paper tomorrow. And will write out a description of this herb to both your healer and this king, to pass on to our alchemists."

Shang Qinghua beamed up at him. "Thank you, my king! Having two teams researching, it will surely help find the cure."

"Mm."

"My king has been very generous in this matter," he said, still smiling. As far as he was concerned, it was evidence that Mobei-Jun actually wanted him cured, and not to just be a hand-sized companion pet who could whisper secrets out of sight. Which... maybe he'd been worrying about. Just a little bit. Of course, there was so much of his work that he couldn't do while shrunken and out of sight. Both for his king and his sect. He hadn't even managed to finish the mountain of work that'd been waiting for him before getting swept away from it again. His poor disciples.

Well, it would be good practice for them. And with his door wards most certainly busted, his head disciple could get in and bring out the papers for the other peak lords to complete themselves for the first time in ages. (Was he a little bitter about that? Just maybe. He'd hate to see what they'd sent to his office while he'd been gone in the first place. And just what were they doing while he'd been unofficially banished after his working for Mobei-Jun was discovered, huh?)

"Is Qinghua tired?" Mobei-Jun asked suddenly, interrupting the peak lord's increasingly grumpy thoughts.

"Oh, um, actually yes," he said after taking a moment to think about it. Between all the adrenaline from today and the fact that he was frankly used to unhealthily long hours, he hadn't even realized it until he specifically paid attention. "We should figure out where I'm going to sleep then, I guess? If you don't want me in the other room." As if the narrowing of Mobei-Jun's eyes didn't answer that question. Right, within reach. "Well, Shen-shixiong put a pillow on the floor for me when I stayed with him. It was kinda odd but pretty comfortable."

Perhaps bringing up the other peak lord hadn't been the best of ideas, but other than his own bed on An Ding, which had felt all too much like being a child in an adult's bed, it'd been what he'd experienced so far. And really, it had been nice to sleep on, even if the floor thing made him feel like a puppy.

"It's not like I haven't slept on the floor before. Remember when we met? You made me sleep on the floor the whole time! So it's no big issue. I'm sure we could grab one of my pillows from across the hall if you want to keep all of yours to yourself of course. And any piece of cloth should work as a good blanket, especially with the warming charm keeping me from getting cold," he rambled, thinking it over. "Even a folded robe would probably be soft enough if you don't want to go anyplace."

"No," Mobei-Jun said suddenly. "Qinghua will sleep on the bed. With this king."

"What?!" Shang Qinghua squawked in surprise, his cheeks lighting up as his head was immediately filled with all kinds of thoughts that he shouldn't be having about his king.

"This king will not put you on the floor to sleep again," the demon said firmly, looking down at him intensely. "Qinghua... does not deserve such treatment."

Staring up at him, Shang Qinghua slowly put together that this was, for Mobei-Jun, a form of apology. He swallowed and nodded his head. "I'll sleep on the bed then. Thank you, my king."

"Good." A claw tipped hand was laid on the desk beside him and this time, Shang Qinghua didn't hesitate to climb up onto it, sitting down so he wouldn't fall when it lifted up into the air. Mobei-Jun stood up from the desk and carried his servant to the attached bedroom. He was brought over to the bed and set down while the demon selected one of the pillows from the (surprisingly high) pile at the head of the bed, putting it aside from the rest. "Is this one adequate?"

"One way to find out," Shang Qinghua said, and he made his way over on the soft surface to climb up onto the pillow, flopping back gracelessly. Oh, it was even nicer than the one Cucumber had lent him. "More than adequate, my king! I don't think I've ever felt anything more comfortable in my life."

"It will be your bed until you are cured," Mobei-Jun declared. "Prepare yourself for bed. Then we will sleep."

"Yes, my king." Sitting up (with some difficulty because the pillow was that soft), Shang Qinghua used his fingers to comb out any big tangles before swiftly weaving it into a braid. It wasn't smooth, it wasn't elegant, but it would do the job.

When Shang Qinghua was done, Mobei-Jun pushed him down with a finger. "Sleep. I will join you soon."

Trying not to huff, the cultivator let himself sink into the soft surface, making no attempt at a proper sleeping position. He would leave that for people who actually cared about dignity. "Yes, my king."

Satisfied that his order was being obeyed and that he'd compensated his servant well enough, Mobei-Jun moved away from the bed to brush his hair out and braid it for sleeping. Which... made for a lovely view if Shang Qinghua was going to be honest with himself. And... made him wish that he was big enough to do it for him. As if his king would allow him to. But still, that didn't mean he didn't really want to.

Then there was a slide of fabric as Mobei removed his robe, leaving himself only in a pair of soft pants. The author rolled onto his back and closed his eyes before he could get caught staring. Even on his pillow, Shang Qinghua could feel the way the bed dipped when Mobei-Jun sat down and slid himself under the blanket. A smooth piece of silk was laid over him, the chill lingering on it quickly fading when exposed to the warmth of his body and the charm. It smelled like him...

Swallowing, he peaked his eyes open, noticing first that the 'blanket' was the very robe that Mobei-Jun had just removed, spilling over the length of bed that his king had given him. And then that Mobei-Jun had chosen to settle on his side, facing him. And that his eyes were open and watching him wordlessly. Almost... No, that couldn't be. Mobei-Jun was just tired. There was no way that he was looking at Shang Qinghua with anything resembling a tender softness. Nope.

The human closed his eyes and pretended that he'd never looked. Because looking was just far too dangerous. After all, if he had looked he might have seen the way that Mobei-Jun reached his hand towards him, fingers hovering without touching, before retracting it without making a sound, face frustrated.

It would be a long night for the both of them.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua was the only one on the bed when he woke, which he wasn't sure if he was surprised about or not. After Mobei-Jun had been so clingy last night (which was super weird to think about), he'd half expected to wake with him looming over him. But that didn't change the fact that the spot his king had lain in last night was very distinctly empty.

He pushed himself up slowly, pulling Mobei's robe up around himself as much as he could for the extra warmth. He'd... never actually been in his king's private room until last night, now that he thought about it. There'd been times when Mobei-Jun summoned him to the door, so he'd seen the inside of his chambers as heir, but stepping past the threshold was something different.

And how he'd... slept in his bed.

Cheeks going red, he flopped back onto the pillow and covered his face, so very glad that there was no one there to see him. Oh fuck, he was glad he was lucky he'd been too tired by the time he fell asleep to dream, or he knew exactly what kind of dream he would have had about it!

"Fuck, I'm never going to survive to get cured," Shang Qinghua groaned. He was either going to die of embarrassment or get slapped into a pancake. One of the two was bound to happen and it was only time that was going to tell him which.

But as tempting it was to just lay there and wallow until he passed away (so very tempting), the urge to get up and actually do something was too well ingrained in him, and Shang Qinghua let out a sigh before rolling off of the pillow to get to his feet on the firmer bed. He took a moment to fix his sleeping robes, askew from a night of fitful sleep, once more having to use his fingers to fix his hair, the braid having half come out without a tie to hold it.

Glancing around for a way down off the bed, he stopped and blinked with surprise at the set of tiny robes left just beside his pillow bed, a comb and ribbon sitting neatly on top of it along with something silver partially tucked into the top robe. Shang Qinghua moved the edge of the robe, picking up an intricate silver crown. It was surprisingly detailed for how little time the craftsman must have had, and somehow... familiar. Where he'd seen it before, he couldn't pinpoint. Not something described for a member of the harem, not if it was silver. That was Mobei's color. Binghe's harem members wore gold. So where did he know it from?

Well, hopefully it wasn't cursed. Because like hell was he going to turn down a gift from his king! And a comb too, at last! It was probably too much to ask for hair oils, but he would take what he could get, and happily sat down to finally comb out the last of the tangles in his hair. That had to be one thing he missed from his modern life, shorter hair. Yes, he'd had a ponytail, but unbound it'd only reached his shoulders. Keeping it that short now would make him look like some kind of criminal.

(He still secretly trimmed it from time to time, because he had no intentions of letting it get to be as long as Shen Qingqiu's was, not if he wanted to be able to bun it out of the way without getting a royal migraine.)

Twisting his hair up, he tied it into his usual bun, sliding the crown into place around it before fixing the whole thing with a silver stick that'd been tucked into it. Even without getting dressed the rest of the way, it felt a lot less like he was some fancy pet. Maybe he hadn't wanted to be a peak lord in the first place, but he'd damn well earned his spot and he did like to feel the part. It didn't hurt one bit that when he shook the robes out, he found them to be even nicer than the ones he'd been given by Bianzhi Zhizhu, and as soft as the sleeping robe. A man could get used to this spoiling, honestly.

The fact that the path down from the bed and into the sitting room via the blanket draped over the side and an open door made Shang Qinghua rather certain that it'd been left that way for him on purpose. Which was nice. He was still in the room, but not just stuck on the bed or risking more bruises for his king to fret over. The sitting room was as empty of ice demons as the bedroom had been, but his king's previous presence was very, very obvious. Obvious enough to walk on. Because Mobei-Jun, his cold and bratty ideal man of a king, had built him a staircase up to the desk. Out of ice.

"Elsa, eat your heart out," he muttered, unable to keep from snickering.

Of course, actually climbing up that staircase in just socks wasn't quite so effortless. Shang Qinghua dashed up the steps, thankful that magical ice at least didn't just freeze when left alone, meaning it wasn't so slippery as it could be, but it was still cold! Boots. He had to get boots!

The prize at the top was another little cup of food, fruit and the local version of cold cuts. Nothing that had to be kept warm. And nothing that was too messy to eat, which was good considering they hadn't thought to give him one of those pins again, so he was popping the fruit into his mouth with his hands. Not ideal, but it was what it was.

With how protective Mobei-Jun had been since yesterday, Shang Qinghua kind of hoped that Mobei-Jun would come get him soon. While he was probably in the safest room in the palace, he didn't want to just stay there all day, waiting for someone to come take him on a walk. And, frankly, he was bored. Mobei had books, yes, but they were thicker tomes and he had no ways of pulling them out of the shelves without risking being squashed under one. And promised paper hadn't materialized either.

So when the air in the room chilled and the shadows gathered, Shang Qinghua was ready for it, turning to face his king before he'd even fully stepped out of the portal, waving at him. "My king, good morning!"

Mobei-Jun nodded in response, looking him over. "You found the bead. Good."

"The... bead?" he asked slowly, head already working to figure out what he meant. He'd already worn the ribbon yesterday, and there wasn't any beading on the robe or the belts that he'd noticed. Shang Qinghua opened his mouth to ask for some clarification when he saw the glimpses of silver in Mobei's hair.

It wasn't the first time that the demon had woven precious metal beads into his hair, a habit he'd picked up some time around Binghe's fall into the abyss (which made a depressing point of reference, but there it was). In fact, it'd become a pretty regular thing.

And then it clicked. Shang Qinghua reached a hand up, touching the silver crown adorning his hair. "You're lending me one of your hair beads?" he asked, feeling oddly pleased about that. It explained how something had been made so fast. It hadn't. His king had already had it on hand. "Yes, it was right with my clothes. Thank you for lending me it. I'll be sure to keep it safe."

"This king gifted it to you. Keep it," Mobei-Jun said, shaking his head.

Well, he supposed he could wear it in his hair like Mobei did his once he was back to normal. Shang Qinghua smiled. "I'll be sure never to lose it then."

"Good." The demon offered him a hand once again, waiting for Shang Qinghua to step up and sit down before he brought it to his shoulder like before.

Making the climb over, he settled on the broad shoulder, taking hold of the other's collar for balance as Mobei-Jun once more arranged his hair to shield him from sight. "Should this servant assume it's time for court then? I hope I can be more use to you than yesterday."

"Shang Qinghua was of valuable use," Mobei-Jun said evenly, carrying him out of the royal chambers. By foot this time, not with a portal. "There is somewhere else to go first."

"Oh? Is there something you need this servant to look at for you, my king?" Shang Qinghua asked, perking up. Something to do to show he was still useful? He'd take it. Even if it was just giving information.

The demon shrugged his shoulder, taking him along for the ride, and didn't say anything more. He walked unhurriedly, brushing off anyone who tried to catch his attention. But... from the glimpses that Shang Qinghua got from time to time, he wasn't really sure where they were going. They weren't headed into the part of the palace that housed the library, not the treasure rooms. It wasn't until they stepped out into the royal promenade that he realized where they were headed.

The promenade was an outdoor walkway, only a roof serving to keep the ground from being covered with snow every time it fell, the windows glassless and open to the elements. It wasn't his favorite place to walk for just that reason, but that didn't mean he wasn't familiar with it. Particularly since it circled around one of his favorite places on the palace grounds.

He didn't remember writing about a garden in the northern palace, but he'd been happy to find one one day while exploring. Well, maybe while looking for some backup escape routes, actually. Same thing. But either way, he'd found the garden. It was kept artificially warm to allow things from other parts of the demon realm to grow, and for those native to the north to flourish. And best of all, most of the northern court tended to stay away from it for some reason, meaning he was generally pretty safe to hang out there when he had some time to spare (rare) or he took his paperwork outside to deal with.

Stepping into the garden, Mobei visually swept the area before bringing his hand to the tiny man hidden on his shoulder. Shang Qinghua took his hint and climbed on. He wasn't immediately lowered to the ground or tucked anyplace else, just held in one clawed hand as his king stood among the curious flowers that grew there.

"My king, did you want me to see the garden?" Shang Qinghua asked after a moment, looking up at him. "It's very pretty, but I've been here before. It's actually one of my favorite spots here."

"Mm, this king knows." Mobei-Jun used his other hand to fetch something small from his sleeve, holding it out to the human. "But not like this."

Boots. Mobei-Jun had brought him boots, like he'd been reading his mind or something. He got so distracted grabbing them to eagerly pull on that he didn't quite take in what the demon had said. "Huh?"

Instead of speaking, Mobei-Jun waited until the tiny cultivator was fully shoed before leaning down and letting his hand hover just above the ground.

"Um... my king?" Shang Qinghua asked, still confused about what his king was doing. He took a guess and stepped down onto the ground, boots doing a good job of keeping the damp grass from soaking his feet.

"Cultivators need exercise and fresh air," the demon said as if he were explaining the care and feeding of. "This king will remain nearby. You will be safe."

As if he hadn't gotten enough of a workout with everything being so big and far apart. But Mobei-Jun looked so proud of himself for the idea that Shang Qinghua didn't have the heart to even mention it. And, well, this was his favorite spot.

"I won't go far then," Shang Qinghua said, giving him a smile before turning his back to pick a direction to walk. He would give credit for one thing. He was right about the gardens looking so very different from this angle. Even from being in Mobei's hand, it'd been somewhat normal if not out of scale. But down on the ground? It felt like being deep in the demon world jungles. Or on another planet.

He muffled a snicker at the thought of Mobei-Jun as some giant alien. Yeah, there'd be no 'we come in peace.' Straight to the invasion. Though he wouldn't mind a little probing maybe... Nope! Wrenching his brain away from that thought, he focused on something else that actually struck him as kind of odd. Normally, there were the sounds of birds and small beasts that liked to roam around the garden, taking advantage of its unnatural warmth. But at the moment, he couldn't hear a single peep. Were they just scared of Mobei-Jun and in hiding? No, his king had come out here to drag him away and the animals hadn't cared before. Huh.

"My king?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder, and then reminding himself that he had to look much, much higher up than usual. "Did something happen to the local beasts? I don't hear them."

Mobei-Jun nodded. "Wards were put up, to keep them out. They will not bother you."

That... was actually really thoughtful. After all, he'd been nearly eaten by one only a short while before. And he hadn't exactly gotten any larger. "Ah, that is very wise and thoughtful of you, my king! I wouldn't want a repeat of what happened before."

"This king said he would keep Qinghua safe," Mobei-Jun said. He leisurely took a seat at the base of a tree, not worrying about his robes getting dirty. Considering he was never the one who had to do his own laundry, the An Ding Peak lord was less than surprised.

"I do hope that this isn't keeping you from court," Shang Qinghua said mildly as he ducked under the broad head of a flower to look at it growing from underneath. He could see the light shining through the petals, casting him in blue. "Say, my king, do you have a favorite flower? Maybe I could pick one for you."

"Mm. Not to be plucked," the demon said. Which yep, sounded about on brand for his spoiled prince now king. Possessive and vague about the things he liked. "Deadly when handled carelessly."

"Ah, then I guess I should probably avoid it then," he said with a nervous laugh. "Are there any in the garden?"

Mobei-Jun studied him for a moment, as if deciding if he should tell him or not. "One. Likes the warmth. Blue and brown petals."

Quickly looking up at the flower he'd been poking at again to make sure there wasn't any brown among the blue, he breathed a sigh of relief. Surely Mobei-Jun would tell him if he got too close to that favorite and deadly flower, right? Yes, of course he would. So he didn't have anything to worry about. Plus it wasn't like he was planning on running around wildly in a demon realm garden, even one that he was reasonably sure didn't have any man-eating plants hidden among the daisies. So he could look at every flower he got close to to double-check them before touching.

Feeling confident again, Shang Qinghua allowed himself to explore, only stopping to check every so often that he could still see the relaxing demon king. Mobei-Jun's eyes occasionally tracked him, but also occasionally closed. Those were the moments that he let himself linger on the sight. His Mobei-Jun relaxed was a pretty sight.

But the moment couldn't last forever, because a lower member of the court stepped out onto the promenade and all of that relaxation drained from the ice demon's body as he stood up. Shang Qinghua didn't even need the sharp look directed his way to duck under a plant and keep out of sight. He didn't want to be spotted either!

"What is it?" the king demanded, to all appearances ignoring the hidden cultivator in favor of glaring at the demon intruding in on their peaceful moment.

"Forgive me, your majesty, but the court is growing restless waiting for their audience," the courtier said with a deep bow. "Shall I send them away for the day?"

Mobei-Jun looked like he was seriously considering it before he shook his head and gestured dismissively for the lower ranking demon to leave. "Go. Tell them this king shall be in attendance shortly."

"Very good, your majesty."

Shang Qinghua stayed in hiding until his king turned back towards him and knelt down near his patch of concealing plants, hand out for him. "Qinghua."

"Looks like my jungle adventure's on pause for the moment then," the cultivator said, coming out and stepping up once again. He probably should be worried about how used to that he was getting. "But duty calls and it's not fond of leaving messages, is it?"

"Mm." Mobei-Jun didn't try to question the odd phrasing, more than a little used to strange things coming out from his servant's mouth. He merely deposited the man back onto his shoulder, straightening up to make their way inside. There would be time for more visits to the garden later. He would see to it.

With more demons having figured out or at least guessed that their new king's human adviser wasn't as gone as they'd hoped, fewer tried to blatantly scam Mobei-Jun and his kingdom. Oh, there were still a few, would always be some idiots, but one head removed from its neck was all it took for several contingencies of demons to think better than to try their luck with cursed tribute gifts. Thankfully the single one that did touch his king was such a weak thing that a pulse of demonic energy fried it. Even if Shang Qinghua was pretty sure that if his hair had been down, it would have stood on end at the feeling of it pulse through him. Oof, he was glad that Mobei hadn't wanted to kill him after all, or he would have been dead. So very dead.

As before, the king dismissed the court when he ran out of patience for them, this time not waiting for them to leave before shadow stepping out of the throne room. Only when they arrived in the hallway, Bianzhi Zhizhu was waiting there between the doors, bowing low to her monarch as he approached.

"Your Majesty," she said. "I have completed the little... project you ordered," she said, a few of those eyes flicking towards where Shang Qinghua was hiding, her special method of sight able to spot him with ease. She offered a box to Mobei-Jun respectfully. "If you require anything more, I welcome the opportunity."

"Mm. Your discretion is appreciated," Mobei-Jun said, taking it in his hands. "This king will send word when more is required."

She swept into a deep bow before departing, claws clicking on the floor until she'd vanished. Likely into one of the secret alcoves that ran through the palace for those trusted by the crown. He'd mapped them out at one point, encoding the directions in English to make absolutely sure no one else could read them. Well, except Cucumber-bro, but the other transmigrator didn't even know they existed, so that wasn't important.

Shang Qinghua peeked out as Mobei-Jun carried him back into the bedroom, setting the box down on the desk. "What's in there?"

"Supplies." The demon said simply. Instead of putting his human down this time, he carefully pushed back his hair to un-obscure the view before opening the box and, piece by piece, removing the contents.

On top were more clothes, all either white or that same Mobei clan dark blue, even the tiny, fur lined cloak that had both. A pair of miniature shoes, like the ones he wore now but thinner looking? A few extra ribbons, tucked carefully inside one of the robes, along with extra socks.

Under them were a few more items. Some tiny chopsticks made out of northern diamond wood. No more eating with hair pins for him! Some bits of horn that had been drilled out to act as cups. With another polished slice to be a plate. And last, Mobei-Jun pulled out a small cushion and what looked like a small wooden pedestal that had had its base sawed off to sit low.

"Is that a table?" he asked, holding onto Mobei's collar as he leaned forward to see.

"Mm. Qinghua should not be eating on the floor."

Grinning, Shang Qinghua leaned over and hugged his neck before his brain abruptly caught up to what he was doing and had him jerking back. "Ah, sorry, my king! But these gifts are really nice! You don't know how much it means to be able to eat like a person again." Yes, he'd been treated pretty decently so far, and it hadn't been that long, but between shrinking down smaller than a kitten and then having to eat from his lap? It made a difference!

This close, he could see the way that the tips of Mobei-Jun's ears darkened, but he didn't show any sign of being upset or bothered by the hug, nodding before picking Shang Qinghua up to, gently, bring him down to the desk. "Inspect them."

"Of course, my king," he said, hurrying to do just that. And not just because of the order.

To no one's surprise, the robes were high quality, with stitching fine enough that even he had trouble making it out at times. If it was stitching at all and not just woven as a single piece. More spider demon silk, no doubt. How Bianzhi Zhizhu did it, he had absolutely no idea, but the lady knew her stuff. Even if he still found her a little creepy at times. He had a suspicion that the chopsticks had been part of a comb originally, but the ends had been filed into proper blunted points, and while they were a tiny bit bulky still, he could use them. As for the boots, they were more lightweight than the first pair, as he'd thought. Almost more like slippers, except for the small spiky grips on the bottom.

Ha! He knew someone had been poking through his closet when he wasn't at the palace! With how often he was on ice following his king around, he'd made a pair of make-shift cleats to help walk with. And it looked like he'd been made a miniature pair as well.

He plonked himself down on the cushion, finding it nicely firm, before picking up the dishes to inspect. They'd been sanded absolutely smooth after being shaped. Nice. Setting them aside, he poked at the table, noting that the sawed edges had been sanded, and while there wasn't any room under it for legs, it was the right height to go with the cushion. Good enough for him!

"They're excellent, my king," Shang Qinghua reported once he was done inspecting everything. "All I need is some writing supplies, and it'll be like home. Which reminds me, thank you for the stairs this morning. They were a little tricky to climb in socks, but with the boots, I'll be able to get around with no trouble."

"This king has seen you use them before," Mobei-Jun said with a nod. "Writing materials will be supplied."

"Knew there was a reason you were my favorite. You're the best." Standing up, he grabbed the cloak and swung it around his shoulders, burrowing his chin into the furr with a happy hum before setting it aside. For inside, his charm kept him warm enough.

As he picked everything up and arranged it either on the little table or back into the box for safekeeping, he missed the way that Mobei-Jun went still, watching him.

"By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, is the robe I arrived in still in my room?" Shang Qinghua asked, looking up at his king's once-more schooled face. "When I was helping Shen-shixiong with his paperwork like this, before we were grabbed, I ended up getting ink kind of all over the place. It's not easy to handle ink sticks this size! And I was thinking that I could at least use it as an over-robe so I wouldn't get the new ones dirty. It's a bit of a pity, considering Ning-shizhi must have worked hard on them, but Bianzhi Zhizhu had a point. I can hardly go around looking like I'm from Qing Jing! I wouldn't walk around my sect like that either! And that way I can tell her I still got good use out of them."

"...They will be dyed black," Mobei-Jun said after a moment. Which was a decent compromise in his opinion. The same robe, no longer in the Consort Shen's colors, and all the better to hide the ink stains Qinghua worried about. "Qinghua will have them by this evening."

The demon king was rewarded with another smile and a bow from his adviser. "My king is as wise as ever. That is an excellent idea. Some of my martial siblings use black in their colors, but none on their own or with blue. So it'll be more like me matching my king!"

"Yes. Stay here, I will give the order for them."

Shang Qinghua was left alone as his king vanished through a portal, shifting comfortably on his new cushion. He wasn't sure if he should know better, but he couldn't deny that it felt like... Mobei-Jun was trying to make up for how things had been before. As though he were really worried that his servant would decide to leave after all.

And, the thing was, he still could. The offer from the System to go home still lingered in the back of his mind. But... he kind of didn't want to? Sure, it was safer in the modern world, with no demons and beasts trying to kill him. But... there also wasn't anyone who would try and butter him up like this to keep him around. The closest thing he had to friends were all in this world.

Not that Mobei-Jun knew about the System or any offers it made, and he was going to do his best to keep it that way.

Still, it was nice. And he'd definitely noticed how gentle his king was being with him too. Nothing like before! Tiny like this, Mobei would have killed him with just one of those beatings, even at his pre-ascension power levels. Of course, even Mobei-Jun would be able to see that he was a lot more breakable than usual too. And Mobei-Jun had never actually tried to kill him even at his angriest. But he liked to think it was more than that.

That maybe, if Mobei-Jun only thought of him as a servant, he wouldn't have been so desperate to find him again when he'd left.

Shang Qinghua shook his head. Really, he was just being silly. But he'd like being his king's friend. Hell, he'd like to be more, but he was pretty sure that pigs would fly in Beijing before that happened.

His king returned before he had too long to dwell in the wistful thinking that he was pretty sure would never, ever come to fruition, the demon trailed by a well-dressed servant carrying a tray. He dove behind the box of supplies out of sight. Why had his king brought someone in here without warning him! What happened to keeping his being tiny a secret!?

Peeking just barely around the corner of the box to get a look at the servant, he froze. That wasn't a servant!

"...Has Adviser Shang stepped out, Your Majesty?" the short demon asked hesitantly, giving into the urge for only a brief glance around before directing his gaze back down to the tray he'd been motioned to put down on the desk. "Or... this lowly one has heard rumor of his becoming invisible?"

Holy shit, what was he doing here? Hu Wenshi, an arctic fox demon, was one of Shang Qinghua's handpicked assistants, not a common household servant, and frankly he wasn't used to seeing him outside of work. Not carrying trays around rooms that most servants had no business going inside.

"No," Mobei-Jun said without specifying which he was referring to. So like his king. "That is all."

The smaller demon bowed and hurried out the door.

"My king, what was that?" Shang Qinghua asked when he felt it was safe to come out. "You didn't give me any warning to hide!"

"A test," his king said. One big hand reached down and, instead of picking him up, patted him lightly on the head with the pad of a finger. Three times. "Qinghua did well."

"I was just lucky the box was right there," the human said with a huff, ignoring the way his cheeks warmed up. "But why are you having my assistant carry trays around like a servant? Without me at work, he's got to be in over his ears!"

Mobei-Jun shrugged his shoulder. "He seemed a safe option. In case you failed to hide in time."

Shang Qinghua opened his mouth to say more when it hit him that his king was... kind of right? There was a reason Hu Wenshi was his assistant, and not just because he'd been one of the demons on staff who could actually read and knew how to organize things. And not just because he had the fluffiest ears either. He trusted him not to try anything when he had his back turned.

But still! "My king," he pleaded faintly. "Could you warn me before you do something like that again? Please?"

"If Qinghua was warned, it would not be as effective of a test," Mobei-Jun said mildly as he went through the motions of making up a dish for his human, setting it on the miniature table. He picked out one of the sets of chopsticks, setting them beside the dish. "Eat. Humans recover better with food."

"I don't think that applies to magical poisonings, my king," Shang Qinghua said with a sigh. "But thank you for lunch. It's... it's nice to have someone to eat with. I don't get to have that often."

Taking a seat in front of the rest of the food, Mobei-Jun raised an eyebrow. "Do you not eat with your peak lords?"

"I mean, sometimes?" The author stuffed a piece of something that tasted like chicken. (And no, not all demon realm beasts tasted like chicken. Weirdly enough, a lot of them tasted like pork.) He swallowed before speaking again. "We sometimes have dinner on days with meetings, but that's not exactly a social event. And I used to eat with Shen-shixiong, but that was before he and Lord Luo made up and all the rest happened." He snorted. "It's funny, but I think I've gotten more company in the last few days than the last few months."

"Hm."

Shang Qinghua looked up to see Mobei-Jun studying him wordlessly, his face difficult to read. The intense gaze made him squirm in his seat, looking away to grab another chunk of meat so he wouldn't have to talk again. Was he really that much more interesting now that he was little?

He hoped it wouldn't mean that Mobei-Jun would try to keep him small.

"Qinghua will eat all his meals with this king, while he is in the Northern Desert," Mobei-Jun said after a moment, apparently coming to a decision. "He will not be required to eat alone."

"My king, it's alright, really," he said quickly, backpedaling when Mobei-Jun frowned. "But if you'd like to eat with this servant, then I'd only be too happy of course! I'm always happy to spend time with my king!"

Satisfied, Mobei-Jun nodded and returned to his food. Clearly, his handling of his human's needs was improving. Qinghua had not flinched from him, even in his more vulnerable state, and he delivered the head pats that he'd witnessed Consort Shen using on his half-human husband. Clearly signs of affection. And obviously Qinghua could appreciate the care he was taking for his safety.

"That does remind me..." Shang Qinghua said slowly, watching him with enough caution that told the demon there was still more work to be done to assure him. "Obviously my king doesn't need to do anything right away. We already have food and I know you've been busy, but..." The tiny human trailed off, losing his nerve.

"Go on," Mobei-Jun said. He did not want Qinghua to fear speaking his mind. "This king will listen."

Emboldened, Shang Qinghua rushed ahead. "But I seem to remember my king promising to make me hand-pulled noodles!"

Mobei-Jun blinked, surprised. He had, hadn't he? Perhaps the word promise had not been used, but neither had it been used when he swore not to hurt his human again. It didn't lessen the sincerity of the oath. There was only one problem with this particular one.

Mobei-Jun had never cooked anything in his life.

He cleared his throat, turning his face away but glancing at him from the corner of his eye. "This king will deliver. However... instruction will be needed."

Shang Qinghua took his turn to stare before a slow smile grew on his lips. It may have been at his expense, but it still created an odd warmth inside. "You really are a spoiled brat, aren't you, my king?" The demon didn't reply, not even to argue. "But even if they come out lumpy and overcooked, I'll still appreciate them. So don't wait until they're perfect."

"This king will learn," Mobei-Jun said with a huff. He knew their emperor cooked for his mate, and the boy was many years his junior. Surely it couldn't be that difficult to learn. It would just be a matter of getting the correct instruction.

Chapter Text

There hadn't been time to learn how to cook for Qinghua by dinner. Mobei-Jun knew there wouldn't be, as he had his own work to do. More than he'd had in years previous, with the continuation of the transition of power. Mobei-Jun was king, his father's surviving heir and the one to inherit his power. He had been ruler in all but name in the years previous, but until recently, his father's court had still been in place, and the laws that he'd set down or maintained from previous generations. He knew that he'd been delinquent in setting down his own, but in the time immediately after his rise to the throne, he'd been chasing after the very human who could fit in his hands now, afraid to lose him.

And in the dark parts of his mind, he knew that the only reason he had him back now was because Qinghua had called for him. His human had chosen to call for him. If he hadn't, that threat he'd made would have been all too true. He never would have been able to find him.

The fact that his uncle had managed to do so burned bitterly in the back of his throat.

But now that he had Qinghua back, he would do everything he could to make sure that he would never leave again. No, that he would never want to leave again.

He would not be his father, to force the matter in stealing his mate away.

What he would do, instead, was show Qinghua how he could change his actions. That he deserved the loyalty that the cultivator had promised him so many years ago.

And the next piece of that started with the delivery of the newly blackened robes and writing supplies. The nature of those supplies likely explained the confusion on the servant who'd delivered them's face. Shang Qinghua's newest box of ink sticks, the formula he preferred, and a fresh make-up brush. The kind used to line eyes, not for powder. He'd specifically given the order for one of the highest quality, to make up for its crossed purpose. For paper, he simply cut down a few sheets of his own. It was already the best quality that they had in the palace.

"I wouldn't go smaller than that, my king," Qinghua said, supervising the cutting. The page had been reduced down to roughly the size of the table they'd made for him. "Not for a letter back to my sect. They'll need to be able to read it, after all, and my brush is still a bit big. So I'll be writing large characters."

"Mm. Better brushes will be made," Mobei-Jun promised with a nod. The make-up brush was fine for now. But only for now. If Qinghua was to be small for more than a week, then he would need something more appropriate for his size. He would need many things made scaled to him.

Mobei hoped it would not come to that. As much as this offered him a chance to redeem himself, it also put Qinghua in a dangerously vulnerable position, as already proven in a worryingly short amount of time.

"I suppose an ink stone my size is a bit too much to ask for," Shang Qinghua said with a little laugh. "Not that the sticks would fit. My king, you should have seen me after Shen-shixiong had me grinding ink for him. Robes absolutely stained." He snorted. "Well, kind of robes. My bro is good at some things, but sewing is not on the list."

The demon frowned. "He had you... grinding ink? Were his hands broken?"

"What? No? If they were, he'd hardly have been writing, would he?" Shang Qinghua said, blinking up at his king. "But it's not like I had anything better to do, and he was putting me up and all. Besides, when a giant with a fan gives you an ink stick, you grind it."

"Consort Shen should not be treating you like a servant," Mobei-Jun said with a deepening scowl, feeling a surge of possessiveness rise up. Qinghua was his.

"It's not like I'm not used to it," the author said as he grabbed one of the cut sheets of paper to spread over his table. "An Ding gets treated like serving staff half the time anyway, and I am a servant here."

Something about that didn't sit well with the demon king, but he wasn't sure how to verbalize exactly why that was at the moment. So he merely frowned once more and put it to the back of his mind to think about later. "You are not his servant."

Shang Qinghua walked closer to Mobei-Jun until he could pat one of those enormous hands. "It's fine, my king. Don't worry about it." He gave him a smile. "And besides, it can't be that demeaning, or you'd say no if I asked you to help me grind some."

"I would not."

"See, not so bad then," Shang Qinghua chirped brightly. "So, would my king please give me a hand? Since he doesn't think that I should be doing it."

It took Mobei a moment to put together that he'd been neatly tricked into doing the small chore, yet once he put it together he found he couldn't particularly be annoyed. Giving Qinghua a dry stare, he picked up one of the ink sticks and added a few drops of water onto his own favored ink stone to begin to grind. It was less than a surprise to be so easily manipulated by the small human, seeing how easily he had seen him do it to others, and how often he knew it had happened to him in the past. He simply didn't usually realize so quickly.

Once there was (more than) enough ink, Shang Qinghua got to work on the letter, addressing the first one to his sect leader, who would need to know the details for official purposes. The second went to Mu Qingfang, who Mobei-Jun still was not pleased with since it was under his watch that this had happened, in regard to his injuries and observations. A third, he assumed, was to his head disciple, with instructions for some work that Mobei didn't pay much attention to. The last was to Shen Qingqiu. To his annoyance, Mobei could only guess its contents, since it was in the odd lettering that his servant sometimes used for his more private notes. He'd stolen some in the past, in hopes of drying to decipher what code it was, to no avail.

And yet, the other cultivator obviously knew how to read it.

It rankled that Shen Qingqiu shared something with Shang Qinghua that he didn't. Yes, it was possible that they'd known each other longer. Mobei-Jun hadn't paid much attention to other humans in his servant's sect, particularly that early on in their... relationship. And he had heard his human excuse things as being because they were from the same hometown. A town he didn't know where was, or even the name of. It must have been far, with how different some things were. He didn't know anything about Qinghua's life before they'd met, save for the fact that he'd been an outer disciple of An Ding. That was it.

After all these decades, it became obvious that that was a failure on his part.

After a shichen, Shang Qinghua leaned back with a groan, putting down the brush and stretching his hands. "There, that should do it. Enough to keep anyone from thinking they need to launch a rescue mission or from being lost to run around like chickens with their heads cut off. I don't suppose I could ask my king to deliver them? Most can just go right to my head disciple. He'll see that they get to where they need to go. But Shen-shixiong is probably still in the Underground Palace, knowing Binghe."

Raising an eyebrow at the familiar form of address directed towards the Emperor, Mobei-Jun nodded his head. "This king is not a messenger. But I will deliver them. This time."

"Thank you, my king," Shang Qinghua said with a smile. "I'm sure it'll be a lot less hassle than having to deal with Liu-shidi deciding to kick in the front door. I'm pretty sure he doesn't even like me, but he also loves any chance for a good fight."

"Hm." Poor judgment in the first case, but Mobei could see the appeal of a fight. And he could admit that too many people liking his human would prove to be... problematic. Qinghua's attention was for him, after all.

Once the letters were dry, Qinghua carefully rolled them and stacked them on his desk, marking the one for his fellow transmigrator separately to make sure it went to the right place. Not that the other peak lords would be able to read the one in Chinglish, but that was beside the point.

"If you happen to see Mu-shidi, can you ask him for the medicines? He was going to send new ones, but, well, things got messy. And he can't really send them all the way here without knowing where I am," Shang Qinghua said, maybe being a little sorry about escaping his doctor's grasp without notice, but it wasn't like he'd done it on purpose. He just hoped that Mu Qingfang didn't bring out the immortal binding cable the next time he got his hands on him.

Mobei-Jun frowned. He hadn't forgotten that it was Mu Qingfang's medicines that put Qinghua in this position in the first place. "This king will seek him out." And be sure that the human healer was being diligent about what was in that medicine this time. Qinghua had shrunk so much the first time. There would not be a second time. He would not see his human shrink out of his reach.

"Try to be nice when you do?" Shang Qinghua asked, as if he could read his king's thoughts. "Mu-shidi's kind of a friend, and it was an accident. Could have happened to anyone."

"It did not." And somehow Mobei-Jun suspected that it wouldn't have happened to someone else. Shang Qinghua often had a unique sort of ill luck, perhaps starting with their own first meeting. It was as though the world itself disliked something about him at times. Which showed very bad judgment on its part too. He let out a breath. "I will be... polite."

"All I can ask," the little human said. He got up from his cushion and came around to pile the rolled papers in Mobei's hand and give it a little pat. "I'll wait until you get back."

Although he nodded, the demon found himself reluctant to just leave Qinghua there. Even in the safety of his personal chambers. He would be leaving the realm to deliver these messages, not just attending to another part of the palace.

The decision to scoop him up in his other hand was an impulsive one, but he didn't pause for consideration before doing so, making the human squeak with surprise.

Adorable.

"M-my king?" Shang Qinghua sputtered, sprawled inelegantly on his hand as he tried to catch his breath.

"Qinghua should come with this king," Mobei-Jun said. "Junshang and your sect know of your state. You will be safe traveling with me."

"Oh! I guess so," the tiny human said, his cheeks red and flustered. He scrambled to get his legs back under him. "Right, sure. Then I can just say anything I forgot to put in the letters. My king is as wise as he is generous!"

Mobei-Jun tucked the letters into his sleeve, holding the hand containing Shang Qinghua to his chest protectively. (And somehow missing the way that his little handful of cultivator was going through the stages of enlightenment all at once as he was held to paradise without mercy.) Gathering his shadows, he stepped through and immediately dodged a flung knife.

"Junshang," he greeted respectfully, as if someone hadn't just tried to off him the moment he'd stepped into the room.

And... looking over the edge of Mobei-Jun's hand and very quickly covering his eyes at the flash of just a bit too much skin, maybe Shang Qinghua could see why they'd tried.

Luo Binghe glared furiously, a robe only half pulled on as he swept a blanket over the nude form of what could only be Shen Qingqiu. "Mobei. Would it kill you to knock?" he growled, closing up the robe the rest of the way once he was sure that his husband was covered up. "Or better yet, stay in your own palace!"

Unbothered, the Northern king held out the small scroll that'd been marked for the Qing Jing peak lord. "This king brought a report for your mate."

"You can give it to him in a minute. Now get out!"

Mobei-Jun bowed before stepping out of the room like he hadn't just very obviously interrupted his emperor in mid-sex with his former teacher. Or maybe pre-sex. Shang Qinghua hoped it was pre-sex, because he liked his head where it was and didn't fancy getting crushed to death by his son. But holy fuck, that was more of his bro than he'd ever wanted to see.

Maybe he could just hide and not let the couple know he was there. Yes, that sounded like a great idea. Except that Mobei would probably point him out and even if he didn't Binghe would be able to sense him. Damn.

"My king... maybe it would be better not to open a portal directly into their bedroom again," he suggested faintly once they were outside the room with the door firmly shut, trying to beat down the red in his cheeks. It was a good thing that he was firmly uninterested in either of them, no matter how pretty he'd made their bodies. "Lord Luo is... rather possessive of Shen-shixiong. And humans are a lot more... modest than most demons."

"This king has noticed," Mobei-Jun said flatly, glancing down at the human man in his hand like it was all his fault. He returned his eyes to the door after a moment. "Junshang's behavior is correct. A demon should protect their weaker mate."

"That makes sense, with the demon realm being as dangerous as it is. Especially for humans. If I didn't have my king looking after me, I wouldn't have survived a week here," Shang Qinghua said with a self-deprecating laugh.

Mobei-Jun frowned, curling his hand even more around the cultivator. If there was anything else he wished to say, however, the chance was shot down when the door was once again yanked open by Luo Binghe, now properly dressed even if his hair was still free in its usual riot of curls. And he still didn't look like he was in a good mood.

"Let them in, Binghe," Shen Qingqiu ordered from inside the room, making his husband reluctantly step out of the way. The peak lord had straightened up his appearance with remarkable swiftness, even if his hair was likewise just barely twisted up, still unadorned, and the robes he wore looked suspiciously ruffled. "Mobei-Jun, what is the report?"

"This king was unable to read it," the ice demon said as he once more held out the small scroll. "Shang Qinghua may have more things to add to it."

Huh? Shang Qinghua blinked as Mobei’s hand tilted, exposing him to the room (thankfully not in the way that his bro had just been exposed), three sets of giant eyes all locked onto him, two expectant and one red set surprised. Well, he guessed his son hadn’t gotten a chance to see him like this before. At least the Emperor didn’t look like he was ready to smash him for being there.

The author cleared his throat, trying not to squirm under all the attention. "Well, it’s pretty much all in the report. My coming was kind of a last second decision…"

"Then you should have just sent a messenger," Luo Binghe grumbled. "Instead of bothering Shizun."

"It’s fine, Binghe," Shen Qingqiu said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "They’re already here. Would you make us some tea while I read it over?"

The Emperor (read: house husband) perked up. If he’d had a tail, it would have started wagging. "Of course, Shizun! This one will return quickly!"

Mobei-Jun very deliberately did not twitch at the sudden switch, never quite comfortable with the change that overcame such a powerful demon whenever his human mate so much as looked on him favorably. The wordless offer of a seat from the Qing Jing peak lord was a welcome distraction, and an offer he accepted. However, he did not set Shang Qinghua down, keeping him in his hand instead.

Shen Qingqiu unrolled the report, eyes flicking to his fellow transmigrator with an implied ‘really?’ before bringing the paper closer to his face to read. Some of the information was a repeating of what he already knew, just put in with the rest for organization’s sake. The notes about the scrapped plot gave him pause, giving Shang Qinghua another hard stare. But perhaps not as much as the comment about Shen Qingqiu landing on him. That stare, however, contained no small amount of horror. Because he hadn’t even realized it. He could have killed him!

Shang Qinghua grimaced. Yeah, he could guess what his bro was thinking. Look, just be glad he hadn’t gotten flattened, okay?

Mobei-Jun frowned at being left out of the silent communication. If he did not know how devoted the emperor’s consort was to him, he would have had reason to be suspicious. As it was, he still did not like it.

By the time Shen Qingqiu was done reading, Luo Binghe returned with tea, bringing three cups and what had to be the 'bowl' broken off from the smallest spoon in the kitchen. To avoid the standoff of who should pour, youngest or subordinate, the Qing Jing peak lord took custody of the pot before it could even begin, pouring out a cup for each before hesitating.

"Mobei-Jun, it might be easier for my shidi to drink if he were able to sit on his own," he said, diplomatically avoiding phrases like ‘if you weren’t holding him’ or ‘if he wasn’t in your hand’ that would raise the implied intimacy of the gesture.

The ice demon’s fingers curled closer to his adviser, reluctant to allow Shang Qinghua out of his direct reach. No matter that he would be staying close while confined to the table.

"It’s okay, my king. You can set me down for a bit. No one’s going to attack me here," Shang Qinghua said, patting his hand, cheeks pink at doing so right in front of his bro.

Mobei-Jun still held onto him for a moment longer before putting his hand down on the table with clear distrust and reluctance. Shang Qinghua shot him a quick smile before standing up and stepping off his palm, quickly trying to put his robes to rights after the handling. Thankfully, he hadn't been too ruffled by the trip, but standing in front of Shen Qingqiu always made him feel a little scruffy. Even when his favorite anti-fan was less than put together himself.

Shen Qingqiu poured out a few drops of tea into the spoon before offering it to his sect sibling, who took it with a quiet thanks.

Would commissioning an actual set of miniature dishes be too defeatist about the idea of returning to normal?

"So, you wrote that you think you've pinpointed the herb that caused this?" Shen Qingqiu asked after they'd gone through the motions of appreciating the tea properly. Well, the two of them had. Mobei-Jun hadn't bothered, using his power to cool the tea to a more drinkable temperature for an ice demon, and Binghe... Binghe was back to staring at Shang Qinghua like he was a weird pet someone had brought to show off. Or a puzzle. Shang Qinghua wasn't sure which option was weirder.

"I'm hoping Mu-shidi can confirm it, but there's only really one that makes sense," Shang Qinghua said. "It's a pretty rare one, which is good and bad. Good that people aren't running into it all over the place. Bad that I'm not sure if I've read of any medicines that can outright cure it. Or where it usually grows."

Shen Qingqiu looked at him from over his tea. "Any treatments other than medicines?"

Oh, he knew what the other transmigrator was hinting at, but if Cucumber thought he was going to list the treatments he'd had in his drafts, he was dreaming. And it wasn't like any of them would be possible for him anyway. Still, his response was stiff. "None that come to mind. But I hope some Systematic research might be able to come up with something. Everything I could think of is in the letter."

It was a good thing that even his son's protagonist IQ hadn't been able to decode their Chinglish yet, meaning the System allowed discussion of it in those letters. For now. Shang Qinghua seriously hoped that his bro was burning anything incriminating, because it seemed with his luck that it was only a matter of time before Binghe began to figure it out. Or managed to seduce Shen Qingqiu into teaching him their 'secret code.'

Taking another sip of tea, Shen Qingqiu sighed and reached across the table to poke Shang Qinghua in the side, to his squawked protest and the scowls of both demons. "I should have told you to stay out of trouble when you ran into us."

"Shen-shixiong, I think we both know by now that it doesn't matter how much either of us try, trouble comes to find us anyway," Shang Qinghua said with a sigh, checking to be sure that he hadn't spilled any of the tea onto himself. He'd hate to stain the new robes his king had gotten for him. "By the way, I don't suppose you've been back by the mountain since we got rescued?"

"Shizun has stayed here," Luo Binghe said with a firmness that made it clear that that would be the continuing state of things for now. He narrowed his eyes as though Airplane had suggested his bro run off with him instead. "Why?"

Swallowing, Shang Qinghua cleared his throat so he wouldn't squeak when he spoke. "Just that this servant was curious, Junshang. It's quite understandable that you would want to keep him safe after a scare, of course. I was only asking in case he had visited and collected the medicine Mu-shidi was going to send. But my king and I are planning to go there next, I think, so we'll collect it directly instead. That's all."

"Hm." The Emperor of the demon realm's eyes hadn't left Shang Qinghua, who was very much fighting the urge to step back and see if Mobei-Jun would be willing to hold him again. (In his hand! Not hold him hold him!) The growing chill behind him suggested yes. But then at last, Luo Binghe snorted and looked away to pour his husband a fresh cup of tea. "If you find a cure, you should use it quickly. The faster you return to your sect, the more time before they come demanding Shizun return to waste his time with them."

"Of course, Junshang," Shang Qinghua said quickly. That was probably as close to a well wish as he was going to get from his son, honestly. As though anyone but Shen Qingqiu would actually get any fond words out of the heavenly demon, so he would take it. "This servant isn't overly fond of being small and useless, either."

"I can check our library to see if it mentions any possible cures," Shen Qingqiu offered, giving Binghe a little smile of thanks before picking up his cup once more to sip. "Other than that, I do believe that my husband has something to say to his martial uncle."

Huh?

Luo Binghe scowled, sulking back into his seat, only to wilt when green eyes stared at him with disapproval. His very well-developed self-preservation instincts were all that kept Shang Qinghua from snickering at the demon emperor, especially when Binghe got a fan poked into his ribs.

Another poke finally got Luo Binghe moving. By which it was meant that he almost gave Shang Qinghua a fucking heart attack when his curly head dipped in a seated bow. Binghe, what are you doing?!

"This emperor thanks his shishu for helping to save Shizun's life," Luo Binghe said reluctantly. He was poked again, harder this time. "And apologizes for leaving him behind during the rescue. If there is a favor Shishu wants to ask of him, this lord will see it done."

"W-what?" Shang Qinghua sputtered, not sure that he was actually hearing any of this, much less seeing it. Maybe Mobei'd dropped him on the way in and he was hallucinating from a concussion. Yeah, that made more sense. "You shouldn't- er, I mean, you really don't have to, Lord Luo. I helped for my own survival as much as anything!"

Luo Binghe frowned, eyeing him before rising with a little sigh. "Nevertheless. Shizun told me what you did. You may have time to think about it. Anything, within reason."

The author waved his hands in front of him. "Of course! I wouldn't dream of abusing your goodwill, I swear. I'll think good and long on it."

A favor from Luo Binghe? That could be about as dangerous as a grudge if he wasn't careful with it. Too small and insignificant of a request could be insulting, like throwing it back in his face. But asking for something too big or inconvenient from the Emperor could suggest that he thought he was in position to lord the favor over on him. Maybe he could just save it to avoid getting executed someday. A one chance get out of jail free card? He hoped that Binghe wouldn't kill a man he owed. (Bing-ge would have, absolutely. But this Binghe had been raised up by his bro with better manners!)

"Good. If that's all, Shizun and I are busy," Luo Binghe said, clearly dismissing them. Loud and clear. (And from the way that Shen Qingqiu's cheeks pinked, not to mention how they'd walked in on them, Airplane could guess what kind of busy they were. Go get it, bro.)

Cold fingers wrapped around him from behind without warning as Mobei-Jun picked him up, and Shang Qinghua had to hold in the reactionary squeak. He was half tempted to use that favor to get Binghe to order his king to stop doing that! The ice demon didn't particularly give him the chance, however, bowing to the pair before cutting open a new portal.

They stepped out into the familiar room that was his home on An Ding. It was exactly how he'd left it, a big ol' mess. Not that that would be a surprise to his king, considering the number of times that Mobei-Jun had teleported in unannounced over the decades. And he hadn't exactly had the time to clean up since before his king's ascension.

Mobei-Jun glanced around the room before looking down at the peak lord in his hand with a raised eyebrow that he just knew was judging him. Okay, rude.

"Does Qinghua need anything from his home before we move on?" the demon asked, stepping around an abandoned set of sleeping robes on the floor.

"Huh? Oh, um, I hadn't thought about it actually," Shang Qinghua said, caught by surprise at the question. What was it about demons suddenly being all nice to him? "Maybe some talisman paper and cinnabar? They'd be in the box by my desk in the other room. I can't really think of much else that my king hasn't already provided for me. At least, that I could actually use. It's not like my sword is here."

"Mm." Holding him close (which was doing things to him), Mobei-Jun walked out of the bedroom and into the front room that served as Shang Qinghua's home office. "Qinghua did not have his sword when he faced against this king's uncle."

"Yeah, I lost it sometime before that," Shang Qinghua admitted sheepishly. More precisely, he'd thrown it away to keep from being recognized as a cultivator while he'd been running away from his king. Which he wasn't particularly eager to bring up while he was literally in his king's grasp. "It's okay. It wasn't that great of a sword anyway. I can probably pick a new one up later."

It wasn't actually that simple, not when it came to spirit swords. But considering that he was way too small to pick up so much as a dagger, a sword was firmly on the list of stuff to worry about later. Maybe he could ask his king to summon a tiny one made of ice if he needed to defend himself against demon spiders or something.

Demon spiders smaller than Bianzhi Zhizhu. Ones her size were way out of his league, even when he was normal-sized.

Mobei-Jun located the wooden box of talisman supplies, opening it to check the contents before summoning a small portal to shove it through. Well, that was one way to pack things up on the go. The demon walked around the room poking at various things, having decided that if Qinghua wasn't going to pick things, then he would instead. His favorite incense burner, a small chest of jewelry, and one of his king's own old cloaks followed the first box vanishing from the room. He gave up protesting the first time he got blue eyes narrowed at him.

"My king, shouldn't we go find my disciple?" he asked helplessly after what had to be half of his worldly possessions were picked up and pushed through, not even sure why his face was feeling warm. Maybe it was the heat. He was still wearing the warming charm after all. And it was a lot warmer on An Ding than it was in the northern palace. Yes, that had to be it. "And then head over to Qian Cao to talk to Mu-shidi?"

His king looked down at him. The whole time, Mobei-Jun hadn't put Shang Qinghua down, preferring to use just one hand for his collecting. The author had taken to clinging to his fingers when the demon seemed to forget he was there once or twice, just to make sure that he absolutely did not fall. Because the fact that he wasn't crushed by his bro's weight earlier didn't mean that he couldn't get hurt falling, and he didn't fancy testing out the idea either. Who knew, the first time could have been a fluke!

"I mean, surely you want to get back to the Northern Desert soon," Shang Qinghua said, shifting under the power of that stare. "I know you don't like the heat, and it's such a warm day here. And I haven't had time to refresh the air cooling charms in a while..."

"Qinghua doesn't need anything else?" Mobei-Jun asked, halfway through picking up the cultivator's favorite tea set. Really, my king, what was he going to do with a tea set when he could take a nap in the pot? He didn't want to take a bath in the pot! He'd never be able to make tea with it again without thinking about it having his old bath water at some point.

"My king, I won't be able to use half of these things until I'm back to normal, and then I'll need most of these things here when I'm home," he said with a sigh. "You've provided for me well in the palace, really."

Mobei-Jun looked like he didn't really like that response, but he put down the tea set regardless and allowed the portal to close. Phew.

Shang Qinghua smiled, relieved that he'd been able to stop him before his king started packing up and moving his furniture too. "With me away from the peak, my head disciple is probably at my office. I feel bad for leaving so much work to him, but I'd hate to see what kind of mess I'd make of the reports and forms when I'm like this."

"It is good practice for an heir to take on their predecessor's duties," the demon said. He pushed open the replacement door, stepping out onto the porch and visually sweeping the area as though looking for threats. Which, actually, was probably exactly what he was doing. Even if most An Ding disciples weren't the sort to try attacking a large demon, one never knew when Liu Qingge was lurking around ready to pounce.

Luckily, that didn't seem to be the case today, because no one jumped out from the shadows to declare a challenge against his king, and Mobei-Jun was allowed to walk down the path unbothered. Still in his hand, Shang Qinghua pointed out the way to his office since, unlike his leisure house, his king didn't normally go there. Especially on foot.

Of course, the closer they got to his office, the busier the area got, with disciples rushing back and forth. Word had obviously gotten around about their Shizun's visiting demon, because while they stared, no one ran to get help. And a good half of the staring was actually at him. By now, Shang Qinghua was absolutely sure that everyone on the peak knew about what'd happened to him, but that didn't mean they'd all actually seen him. Now they were getting their chance.

Meaning that he was really glad that he'd been given some nicer clothes. Even if it was northern blue, and not An Ding teal.

He waved at a couple of the younger ones on the way, cooing over the way their eyes went huge before they ran away. Maybe he didn't think he'd be much of a parent, but he still loved his little ones. Even if he'd really tried not to in the beginning. Tried and failed so hard. Repeatedly.

As predicted, his head disciple was sitting behind his desk hard at work when Mobei-Jun stepped inside, drawing attention not because of noise but because everyone else went completely silent. Shi Wuyou looked up from the form he was reading over, blinking for just a moment before standing abruptly. "Shizun, you're back!"

"Just for a visit," Shang Qinghua said, hopefully before the teenager got his hopes up too much that he could hand back the bulk of the work. "This master has some notes for you to attend to in his absence. Nothing major, only things I noticed while I was going over some paperwork prior to... my condition."

"Of course," the disciple said, bowing again. When Mobei thrust a hand at him with the scroll, it was plenty to give him pause, even if he wasn't nearly as afraid of the demon as it would have been sensible to be. Then again, those nerves had been one of the reasons that Shang Qinghua had named him as his head disciple. He accepted the scroll with a bow, holding it to his chest. "Not to question Shizun or his guest, but the other disciples were worried. You are safe, where you're staying?"

"Never safer," the peak lord said brightly. After all, he was being kept so close to his king. With that sort of protection, what harm could really come to him? Certainly no petty raiders looking to get their ladies into Binghe's bed again. "So tell them not to worry about me and to keep working hard while I'm gone. I'm sure I'll be cured before you know it."

Shi Wuyou nodded, stiffening his jaw. "As you say, Shizun."

"You're a good boy, Shi Wuyou," Shang Qinghua said, reaching out before remembering that he wouldn't be able to reach to give the teenager a pat on the head.

And then about swallowed his tongue when Mobei's free hand reached out and did it for him. Both cultivators froze, not sure quite how to respond. Three pats, firm enough that even the solidly built teenager's head dipped under them, but still!

The boy was blushing by the time Mobei-Jun finished, which was enough to shake Shang Qinghua out of the surprise so he could laugh quietly. "I think that's everything on my peak, my king. Perhaps we should go make a visit to Mu-shidi now?"

"Mn."

Shang Qinghua noticed the gathering of shadows too late. "Ah, wait, we should probably-" And Mobei-Jun stepped out directly in front of a class of Qian Cao disciples practicing sutures, making one of them stab themselves with the needle when he jerked in surprise. "...Walk."

"Demon!"

"And there's the screaming," Shang Qinghua said dryly before waving his arms to try and get some attention. "Wait! It's fine, he's with me! We're just here to see your shizun!"

It was mostly too late, of course, one of the disciples already dashing out the door. Well, at least they were probably going to get their peak lord anyway. And Mu Qingfang was absolutely the most sensible of his shidi too, so if he heard 'ice demon with teleporting powers' or any similar variation, he'd very likely know exactly who the disciple was talking about.

Mobei-Jun looked at the rest of the frozen (metaphorically, thankfully) class, fixing them with a stare. "Stay." And he headed for the door, carrying Shang Qinghua with him.

"Thank you, my king," Shang Qinghua said with a sigh. A few doors to other classrooms peaked open briefly, before quickly slamming closed. Ah, kids. Even Mu Qingfang's students could get so easily spooked just by a demon king wandering around their classrooms. It wasn't like he was freezing doors solid or anything. (Like he was fond of doing at home.) "If he's not teaching, Mu-shixiong is most likely in the clinic. And please, my king, let's just walk there. We don't need to startle any more disciples!"

The demon snorted, but thankfully followed the little piece of advice, striding for the exit. From his hand, Shang Qinghua pointed out the direction to go, being a little too familiar with the way to the clinic. Between his own share of injuries (for which he usually just went and raided the storerooms, admittedly) and escorting disciples who ran into Bai Zhan disciples or got themselves hurt otherwise, he spent plenty of time going back and forth to the place.

Of course, he barely needed to bother, because as soon as the building came into view, his shidi was hurrying out of the building to meet them. Obviously, the fleeing disciple had gone and found him. With just a glance, it was obvious that the man was stressed already, and not pleased to be dealing with a demon on top of everything.

"Mobei-Jun," the doctor said, his posture tense as he stopped in front of his king. "What brings you to my peak?"

His words were polite, but Shang Qinghua knew the man well enough to tell that he wasn't happy. Whoops.

But his king wasn't ruffled by the frosty reception, being very friendly in not summoning his sword to run Mu Qingfang through for it. Instead, he dipped his head the smallest fraction in an equally cold greeting. "Qinghua's medicine."

The response started Mu Qingfang, the doctor only just barely not jerking to give his surprise away. And it was only then that he noticed the figure in the demon's hand, dark blue robes making him blend in against the background of Mobei-Jun's own clothes. "Ah, Shang-shixiong! You're alright!"

It occurred to him that it was likely no one had let anyone in his sect know about what happened with the kidnapping. Which... made him feel a little guilty for not writing right away, but Shen Qingqiu could have done it too, and probably easier!

"Still tiny, but still in one piece!" Shang Qinghua said, making no move to try and get over to his shidi. He could see how much Mu Qingfang was holding himself back from reaching out to grab him. Not only would it have been futile, but starting a fight with the Northern king while he was in possession of the An Ding peak lord... not a great idea. "Sorry to make you worry."

"No apologies needed. I'm just relieved that you're still alive. Judging by present company, I assume Shen-shixiong is back with Luo Binghe?" Mu Qingfang asked, glancing at Mobei-Jun briefly before turning his attention back to Shang Qinghua.

"Yeah. Had a bit of an unplanned adventure in the market with him," the author said with a grimace. Understatement of the year, but true. "It's been really making me miss that calming tea. The real one. Not the one that did this." He motioned to himself to indicate what 'this' referred to. As if there was going to be any doubt. "But Lord Luo and my king rescued us and I'm going to be staying with him for a bit."

"Are you. Are you sure that's safe, Shang-shidi?" the doctor asked with a frown.

"No one has kidnapped Qinghua from this king's care," Mobei-Jun said coldly, drawing his handful of cultivator closer to his chest.

Said handful sighed, picking up on that barb right away. It wasn't Mu Qingfang's fault, Mobei! Okay, maybe the medicine was how he'd gotten into the situation in the first place, but that was beside the point! And judging by the doctor's guilty frown, he wasn't the only one who'd picked up on the barb.

"That is good to hear," Mu Qingfang said diplomatically, his jaw stiff. "If you are certain that you wish to stay in the Northern Desert, allow me to pack you some extra supplies, starting with your teas. Your Highness, if you would follow me."

Shang Qinghua was honestly surprised and relieved that Yue Qingyuan didn't show up halfway through Mu-shidi packing up a few boxes of medicines, this time taking a moment to inspect a scoop from each of them before handing them over to Mobei-Jun. Making absolutely sure that there was nothing in either of them that shouldn't be this time. Which, good. Frankly, he wasn't sure if his king would be willing to give them to him otherwise, after he'd gotten an explanation of what had happened. And why.

"Keep him warm. I'm aware that Shang-shixiong has spent time in your palace before, but small bodies don't retain as much heat. His leg appears to have healed nicely, but I haven't been able to observe him long enough to know if his energy reserves have shrunken with him. It may be easier for him to fall ill for a while, so take care," Mu Qingfang said, fully willing to give Mobei-Jun a lecture in the care and feeding of shrunken peak lords. "Make sure he sleeps. This master is sure that you have noticed his bad habits of working through the night. The calming tea may help, but it isn't a sedative. It won't knock him out. Similarly, try to keep his stress down. And mind what he eats. Humans can't eat as many things as demons can safely."

Still held in Mobei-Jun's hand, Shang Qinghua covered his face. Save him some face, shidi! He wasn't a little kid being babysat for the first time! And it didn't help that Mobei-Jun had warmed up a bit (figuratively) and paid close attention to everything the Qian Cao peak lord was saying. Bullies! They were all bullies!

"I'm sure we can manage everything," Shang Qinghua said as soon as there was a moment of silence while Mu Qingfang took a breath. Talking over the man wasn't going to happen at his size, even if people were as likely to listen! "You should let our sect leader know that Shen-shixiong is fine too. I bet he's been ripping his hair out in worry over it."

Mu Qingfang looked down at him with a frown. The kind of frown that he'd learned meant that he disapproved mightily of something that'd left his mouth. It was a very familiar kind of frown.

"Yue-shixiong will be told, yes," Mu Qingfang said slowly, that frown still not going away. "But Shang-shixiong should know that we were worried about his whereabouts as well. Your base condition means that dangers are highly magnified."

"Shidi is very nice to say that," Shang Qinghua said, giving him a smile even as he waved it off. "I'm not saying that you guys would leave me in a ditch, but if it were between me and Shen-shixiong, I know who'd get rescued first." And, in fact, had been. Just recently. Sure, that wasn't the other peak lords in that case, but Binghe, but the point still stood in his opinion. "So, same instructions for the real tea as the messed up tea? Obviously, gonna be taking smaller doses, but otherwise?"

The doctor wanted to argue with his self-depreciating shixiong, but he sighed and let it go. For now. "Yes, the instructions are the same. But if anything, and I do mean anything, happens, then I want you to come directly to me. No matter the hour or realm."

"Understood," Mobei-Jun said before his advisor could open his mouth to put himself down again, displeasure evident in his face, high above Shang Qinghua's head where the tiny man couldn't see it as clearly with his angle. Neither of them liked having to trust the other with the An Ding lord's care and safety, but there was an unspoken agreement passed between them that they would see he was taken care of. The demon gave his reluctant co-conspirator a sharp nod, dropping the scrolls intended for him and the sect leader on the nearby table before cutting open a shadowy portal and sweeping through it to step back into his personal chambers. Portal closing behind him, he looked down at the cultivator in his hand. "Shang Qinghua."

Looking up, Shang Qinghua swallowed at the intense look in his king's eye. He didn't know what to make of that last interaction, and now Mobei-Jun was staring at him again. "Y-yes, my ki-eep!"

Mobei-Jun had abruptly brought him up to eye level without a single by your leave, grip shifting to wrap around his torso tightly, but not so tightly to cause harm, just to keep him absolutely still.

"Qinghua is not useless," Mobei-Jun said without context. "He is this king's most trusted. Even in your present form. Qinghua has never been useless."

Why was his face feeling warm all of a sudden? Maybe just the contrast between the peaks and the northern kingdom, without time to adjust? But if that was the case, then why was his heart also pounding? It wasn't fear. He knew what fear felt like. Was absolutely used to fear. So what was going on with his body, huh?!

"This king failed to keep you safe before, and was under orders to delay your rescue," the demon continued, his expression darkening at the self-reminder. "Qinghua was not left behind by choice."

Oh... "Is this about what I said to Mu-shidi?" Shang Qinghua asked quietly. "It wasn't... I wasn't criticizing you, my king. You did what you could with Lord Luo's orders. And you did rescue me! So it all turned out fine. You don't have to worry about it at all!"

That didn't lift Mobei-Jun's frown like he'd hoped it would, the demon still staring at him before he let out a sigh. And even more confusing, he used his thumb to rub the top of Shang Qinghua's head before lowering him down to the desk to finally release.

The author had a suspicion that he'd upset his king somehow, but fuck if he could figure out how.

"Thank you for helping me deliver the letters, my king," Shang Qinghua said, fixing his robes after they'd gotten ruffled through handling. His hair was probably going to be a lost cause for now. "And for taking this servant with you."

"Mn. Qinghua should stay close to this king," Mobei-Jun said with a nod. He took a seat at the desk, icy blue eyes looking down at the miniature human. There was a spark of humor in his eyes that could have been missed by blinking at the wrong moment. "He finds too much trouble when left on his own."

Shang Qinghua would have loved to protest that. Would have absolutely adored and treasured the ability. But considering his present state, there was no denying it. Still, he sulked. Just a little. "I don't try to."

"And yet, you find it as easily as you do secrets," the demon pointed out.

Was Mobei-Jun teasing him? He couldn't really be, right? Had to just be pointing out where he'd messed up. But Shang Qinghua still found himself smiling, rubbing his neck sheepishly, unafraid of rougher correction. Actually, come to think of it, he was starting to lose his fear of his king altogether. Which was... good. It was nice. He didn't like being afraid. He did like his king.

"This servant works hard for those secrets," he said at last. Sure, he had author advantage in a lot of cases, but with how much had changed around the little world he's created, not to mention how long it'd been since he'd written it, he couldn't just rely completely on memory. (Besides, while he'd written plenty about the northern court that had never gone into the published chapters, he hadn't exactly gone over every little bit of court intrigue that sprung up away from his protagonist son. There were simply things that hadn't been important to the narrative that were very much important to the running of a demon kingdom.)

"Qinghua."

The cultivator looked up at Mobei-Jun quickly, waiting for what he had to say.

Mobei-Jun once again reached for him, this time merely putting a finger on top of his head. "Qinghua should refer to himself as a servant no longer."

"What?" Shang Qinghua blinked, not sure if he'd heard that right. He wasn't being fired, right? Not after that whole thing about not being useless. "What do you mean, my king?"

"A king's advisor and confidant is not a servant," Mobei-Jun said slowly, fixing him with a stare as he made a point to speak clearly. Slowly. "A peak lord is not a servant. Qinghua is not a servant."

"But... I swore to serve you my entire life," Shang Qinghua said. Never mind the time when he'd nearly left. Right now, he didn't care about that.

Mobei-Jun nodded in agreement. "This king knows. Qinghua will continue to serve, from the position he's earned."

Wait, what? "You're giving me a promotion?" Shang Qinghua asked, his voice high in a clear squeak. "My king! Is that why you had my room moved too?"

But his king was apparently done sharing all his surprises as he leaned back in his seat and ignored the second question and barely nodded to the first. Without explanation, he rose to his feet once more in order to fetch a book from one of the room's shelves, laying it out on the desk and opening it. Shang Qinghua recognized it as one that'd gone missing from his shelves some time ago. Ha, well, at least he knew where it'd gone.

"Read this to me," Mobei-Jun said abruptly.

It was hard not to laugh. Really, it was. And as it was, a snicker still escaped as Shang Qinghua looked the large book over before deciding to pull off his boots so he could climb up onto the book. King or not, Mobei really was still a spoiled prince, wasn't he?

"Ah ha, so that's the real reason," he teased without thinking. "You want me here to be your own personal audiobook."

Mobei-Jun raised an eyebrow at the unfamiliar term before brushing it off. Qinghua had always used odd phrases. What a strange place his hometown must have been, for people to talk like he did. He pointed a claw at the first line of text. "Read."

And Shang Qinghua read, narrating the adventurous tale of a wandering cursed prince. And his loyal servant, of course. It wasn't exactly highbrow literature, but at least it wasn't a yellow book, or he'd have qi deviated from embarrassment at the idea of his king reading it and knowing it was his.

He was aware of Mobei-Jun's movements behind him, difficult not to be when his king was a flexible mountain at his back, and only glanced over when the other man leaned over and cushioned his head on his arms, still watching him. Shang Qinghua felt the blood rise up into his cheeks even as he smiled. He was happy to see his king relaxed like this. With him.

By the time they'd made it a few chapters in, his voice was raw, especially without a sip of water. Mobei-Jun hadn't brought him any, and he hadn't thought to ask until it was too late. His king was like a cat, including the fact that it felt like a moral crime to disturb him once he'd relaxed with you. So he was glad for the large hand that reached over him to cover the page before he could start reading the next chapter.

"Enough," Mobei-Jun said, sweeping that hand inward and catching Shang Qinghua in his fingers before he added, "For tonight."

Grabbing hold of the fingers wrapped around him, the author nodded, rubbing his throat. He supposed that he must have begun to sound grating. "Ah, right. My king is wise. Did you enjoy the story so far? Though I'm sure you must have read it when you borrowed it." Just borrowed, because of course he wasn't going to accuse his king of stealing! Everything that was his was also his king's, after all.

"It's strange. Why did the prince not simply kill the one who cursed him?" the demon asked, frowning as he puzzled it out. "They are an old man. It would have been an easy fight."

"Well, for one thing, that would make a very short story," Shang Qinghua pointed out. "For another, maybe the curse isn't the kind that goes away if you kill the caster. And if so, then once they're dead he could have been stuck that way."

"He is stronger in his cursed form," Mobei-Jun said with a small snort, marking the page with a teal ribbon before closing the book. He carried Shang Qinghua away from the desk and into the bedroom, setting him down on the bed. "You should sleep. Your healer said you should get rest."

"Mu-shixiong has been saying that since we met," he said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Like the man had a leg to stand on. They tied for most exhausted peak lords on a regular basis, he was sure.

"Qinghua will rest." A claw tipped finger delicately poked him in the chest, pushing him down onto the bed. (And oh, the thoughts that brought up in his brain. Not helping!) "Ready yourself for bed. This king will fetch your medicines."

"He also said be gentle," Shang Qinghua retorted, even if they both knew that he was perfectly fine. And Mobei's raised eyebrow just rubbed it in. "Fine, fine, I'll obey."

Satisfied, Mobei stepped back out of the room to order hot water for the teas, leaving his little human to strip out of the fancy clothes and jewelry that his king had gifted him. He set each piece aside with care, wrapping them in one of the layers, so nothing would get lost before he pulled on his sleeping robe again, grabbing his new comb to tidy his hair with. Which he was still working on when the royal demon returned, very carefully holding a steaming cup.

"I'm almost ready for bed, my king," he said, putting the comb down to start braiding his hair. "I hope that's not another bath for me. I don't want to get changed again."

"It is not. For your medicines," Mobei-Jun said simply. He set the cup down on a low stool that was shoved over close to the bed, along with a pair of spoons that were dipped into the water.

Watching his king carefully brew the medicines from Mu Qingfang's directions made Shang Qinghua's heart feel like it should be glowing. Not only was his king tolerating his current state, but he was also helping him. It was beneath a king to prepare medicine for a servant, but Mobei-Jun still did it.

Once they were ready, his king even helped him lift the spoons to drink from them. First the qi replenishing potion, which was the same as before, since there had been nothing wrong with it in the first place. And then the calming tea. No longer tasting like mint, it now tasted right. If a bit strong, considering the size of the man brewing it, but it didn't immediately make him worry about beginning to shrink again.

Still, Mobei kept his eyes laser focused on him, as if he were worried that Shang Qinghua would vanish between the threads of the blankets if he so much as glanced away. He leaned over the tiny cultivator, hand just a few inches away. Ready to grab him if needed. It was... kind of sweet, actually. As he finished up the last of the calming tea, Shang Qinghua stretched and reached out to pat one of those fingers. "It's the right recipe, my king. Mu-shixiong wouldn't make that mistake. It was probably a disciple who grabbed the first batch."

With the way Mobei scowled at the reminder, Shang Qinghua lit a candle for the doctor in his mind. Come on, my king, it really wasn't his fault! It wasn't even really an accident! Sometimes, he really wished he could tell people about the System. Not being their creator author, because that'd get him killed so fast it wasn't funny, but just that some of the screwy things that happened, or things he'd had to do, were because of something that wasn't him! It'd help his bro with his marriage too, he bet. Let his son know that Shen Qingqiu hadn't wanted to push him even back then.

But since he was pretty sure the System would just outright delete him or send him home to his probably very dead and rotting body (he kind of assumed the return home option was different. Hoped it was. Just in case), he wasn't going to be sharing any secrets of that particular nature with anyone who'd never used a computer. Nope. Because he actually liked his life and being alive. So, not giving the System reason to murder him, thanks.

Tea and water moved away off of the bed, Mobei nudged Shang Qinghua to his pillow bed. "Sleep."

"Not you, my king?" he asked as he obediently climbed up and sat down, cheeks warm as Mobei drew a 'blanket' over him like before. Once more, a piece of the demon's clothing, like Mobei was trying to cloak him in his scent.

Mobei used a finger to push him down onto his back. "This king will join you soon. There is something I need to do first."

Show mercy! Shang Qinghua was a healthy young(-ish) man, trying to keep his thoughts chaste! And doing that was not helping! He swallowed and nodded. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Fixing him with a look, Mobei once again pulled the 'blanket' into place (tucking him in!). "Rest. Do not leave the bed."

Oh, why did he have to write his king to be so stubborn? Sighing, he made a point of snuggling down into the softness of the pillow. "Yes, my king."

Satisfied that he would be obeyed finally, the demon lightly tapped the top of his head three times before drawing away to leave the bedroom. Shang Qinghua didn't hear the sound of the outer door opening or closing, but the subtle raising of the room's temperature was enough to let him know that Mobei-Jun had left.

"Could have at least told me what you were doing," he muttered, trying to resist the urge to sulk. If Mobei had said what he was doing, then he probably could have given him some tips to help out! Other than the paperwork side of things, that was a large portion of his job around here, knowing things and passing on that important information to his king!

He'd been half tempted to stay awake until this king returned, following most of his orders to the letter if not the spirit, but between being generally tired from the workout that being tiny was and the fact that that pillow was so absolutely soft, he passed out before the candle Mobei-Jun had left behind for him even had to chance to snuff out.

He'd find out what his king was up to later.

Chapter Text

To be fair, Shang Qinghua tried to ask Mobei about where he'd gone the night before over breakfast in the morning, but it'd been a rushed affair with his king bringing some tiny slices of fruit and, unfortunately, another dose of each medicine before carrying him off to hide among his hair again during a morning meeting with some of Mobei-Jun's top generals. Things were mostly peaceful at the moment, but it was the demon realm. And in the demon realm, there was really no such thing as true peacetime.

He had a feeling if they ever got too close to it, someone would get bored and stir things up on purpose. And that someone very well could be his king. Or Liu Qingge. Though he likely wouldn't be intending to cause trouble, just to go chasing some fights, accidentally propose to a few demon lords, and then skip off while they fought each other for his hand. All without a clue.

Staying still so this group of smarter-than-average NPC-type demons in the room wouldn't spot him, Shang Qinghua almost missed the late arrival of one of the aforementioned generals. And might have, if he weren't so very attuned to his king's scowls, even when he couldn't entirely see them. Mobei-Jun obviously wasn't fond of this particular general.

"Forgive my lateness, Your Highness, my lords," the General said with a deep bow before entering further into the room. Shang Qinghua was glad that Mobei rarely bowed to anyone, because he'd have fallen from a bow that deep. "This one had a minor family matter to deal with, but it is now handled."

"Forgiven," Mobei-Jun said, his tone bored as he turned his attention back to the maps laid out on the table in front of him.

Shang Qinghua didn't quite recognize the demon's voice enough to put a name to it, even if it was a little familiar. Clearly, no one all that important. Or at best, someone new to his position who wasn't a regular attendee of meetings with his king. Because he knew THOSE faces and voices like the back of his hand. Possibly better, because he actually paid attention to those around his king. So, like said king, he dismissed the general from his mind rather quickly, trying to peer through the small gaps in Mobei-Jun's hair down at the maps and the markers representing the movements of the other tribes and clans of demons, looking for patterns that could be suspicious or familiar from the book.

The dull meeting came to an end when it came time for lunch, his king sweeping from the room without a word to any of the others, and they knew better than to question him.

Well, most of them knew better.

"Your highness," the late arriving General said, following Mobei-Jun out of the room. At the stiff stillness that followed, he corrected himself. "Apologies. Your Majesty."

"What do you want?" Mobei-Jun said flatly. Less of a question and more of a statement that the other demon would answer him. And explain his audacity, perhaps.

"This lowly one wished to speak with you over a meal," the General said, bowing his head. "In regards to the issue of kin from before."

Shang Qinghua could hear his king's frown. "The issue that was resolved."

"Perhaps this one misspoke before. It is less resolved, and more fixed into a presently stable situation," the demon said. The irritation in his voice as he tried to speak in vague terms was well suppressed, but not well enough. "Is His Majesty amenable to a discussion?"

"Deal with your clan's issues on your own," Mobei-Jun said with a huff, turning his back to the General. "It does not concern this king." And before the General could utter another word, he cut open a portal and stepped through with his hidden cultivator, all but slamming it behind them.

To Shang Qinghua's surprise, it wasn't their chambers that Mobei had taken them to but the garden once more. As the shadows faded away behind them, he could feel the way the tension faded from his king's shoulders before a hand came up to lift him off.

Mobei didn't say much as he carried him over to the garden bench the author favored, a table set up beside it along with a covered tray.

"Lunch," Mobei said at last, bringing his hand down to the table so Shang Qinghua could hop off before proceeding to select choice bits of food to place on another of the horn 'plates' that he produced from a pocket.

"Who was that?" Shang Qinghua asked, frowning. "I have a feeling I've heard his voice before, but can't place it."

"From the previous Mobei-Jun's court. Not likely to remain in position for long if he cannot handle his own clan."

Well, that would explain it. Suggesting that Shang Qinghua had been both a little wrong as well as a little right. New in position in HIS king's court because such a court was new to power. But likely not that powerful before, or his fellow Generals would have held him in higher regard. Perhaps not someone to completely dismiss, however.

Once he got back to normal and could properly use his usual resources, he'd have to do a proper investigation into the demon. Like he did to anyone else who tried to insert themselves into his king's schedule. Until then, there wasn't much he could do.

"It was nice of my king to arrange lunch out here," Shang Qinghua said once he'd settled on the decision. Receiving his 'plate,' he dug in with gusto. Clearly, his king had also been paying attention to what humans could and couldn't eat when he ordered the kitchen to make their meal. "Was there a particular reason? Other than getting out of the meeting room, that is."

"Qinghua likes it out here," Mobei-Jun said, glancing at him before picking up his own utensils to eat at a calmer pace.

The statement brought the blood rushing to the author's cheeks and he shoved a large piece of meat (rabbit? Or the demon equivalent to. Best not to ask) into his mouth to give himself time before he could be expected to reply. Thankfully, Mobei-Jun clearly didn't mind the silence, looking at his tiny human for a moment before nodding in satisfaction once again.

"My king has been very kind since this happened," Shang Qinghua said after a few minutes. Mobei had changed his behavior so much in such a short time. He deserved to get praised for it. And Shang Qinghua wanted to make sure that he knew in no uncertain terms how grateful he was for what the ice demon was doing for him.

The softness that snuck into his king’s eyes when he looked his way in response was worth every bit of it too.

"This king has much to correct," Mobei-Jun said. He extended a fingertip to touch the top of his human’s head in a delicate pat. "Beginning with Qinghua’s treatment."

My king! You can’t just up and say things like that without warning! Shang Qinghua didn’t have the first idea about how to respond, which was something he was very much not used to! Nor was he used to him being soft! Nothing about his king was supposed to be soft! Not his moods, not his pecs, not his expressions! Hard and cold like ice. Stop breaking the script! OOC! OOC!

"Qinghua has been this lord’s kingmaker," Mobei-Jun continued, calling back to last night’s conversation. "He should be treated as such, and it is long overdue."

"My king," Shang Qinghua said, his voice barely a squeak as he stared up at him. "My king, you really don’t have to do anything to repay me for that. I was simply serving you as best as I could. And anyone could see that you were the best choice among the heirs to take over for your father. I promised to follow you, and just helped with the path you deserved. That’s all."

"That is not all," the demon countered. But in Mobei-Jun’s style, he didn’t explain further, once more returning to his food. "Qinghua will be treated well. Without argument."

Shang Qinghua sighed, knowing when he was being ordered to drop a subject. He really wasn’t sure how to take this change in treatment except to just appreciate it and show his gratitude in hopes that it wouldn’t just suddenly end one day. He wanted to believe that it wouldn’t, wanted to trust that Mobei-Jun would keep him at his side now. Even if it wasn’t as a servant, as he said. Being the king’s friend wasn’t exactly a safe place to be, but neither was being his minion. At least from this side, Mobei could openly protect him.

Gah, why did his king have to be so confusing?

Deciding that the best way to get out of a confusing situation was to pretend it wasn't happening, Shang Qinghua finished off his portion before speaking again. "By the way, my king, you never said what you were doing last night. I was going to ask this morning, but there wasn't really time before we had to go to the meeting."

"Qinghua should not worry," Mobei said, shaking his head. "It is being handled."

"I'm not worrying," he said with a little huff. "I'm just curious. It was rather late to do much."

Mobei-Jun didn't answer him this time, finishing his food before settling to sit and wait for his human to do the same. So stubborn! It was tempting to ignore the hand that was offered to him after, but Shang Qinghua suspected that he'd be picked up anyway if he refused. And he wanted to stretch his legs for a bit anyway, so he accepted the ride down to the ground.

"Thank you, my king," Shang Qinghua said. When he looked up at the demon hovering over him, he was immediately reminded of just how big Mobei-Jun was. Even normally, when he wasn't the size of some pixy out of Neverland. And when he was? His king looked like a mountain. Or a glacier. A very good looking glacier. "This serv- this one will stay in sight."

Eyes narrowing at the near miss, the demon's face relaxed when Shang Qinghua corrected himself. This was going to take time to get used to.

This time, he spent some a while finding a little pathway through the plants, treating it like he was wandering Shen Qingqiu's bamboo forest. Only without the danger of offending his fellow transmigrator or his husband. Or running into the furred beasts that Liu Qingge liked to drop off from time to time. It was too bad that Ning Yingying had been so soft on them, because they probably would have tasted good, and wouldn't have had a chance to bite him instead!

The thought just made him even more glad that his king had thought ahead and cleared the area of beasts and animals. Especially after his encounter with one the other day. There would have been little to no relaxing otherwise, because he'd have been watching over his shoulder to make sure nothing was creeping up on him the whole time.

Making his way around a particularly thick bush, he gasped in delight, spinning to wave at his giant tracker. "My king! Did you see these?!"

Mobei-Jun raised an eyebrow, peering down to see what his tiny advisor was attempting to show him, but didn't see anything other than the normal flowering bush. It was a bit more colorful than what one usually saw in the northern wastes, but that was the point of the warmed garden.

Unbothered by the lack of response, Shang Qinghua hurried back over to him, grabbing the edge of Mobei-Jun's robe and began tugging. Like it would be possible for him to pull a demon more than twenty times his size with just that. Humoring him, he approached the bush, taking intentionally small steps to avoid running into the cultivator with his boot.

"Get down here!" the author called up to him, pulling on the hem again. "You won't be able to see it from up there!" He was too fascinated by what he'd seen to be startled when Mobei-Jun obediently went down to his knees, a hand braced against the earth so he could lean lower to get as close to Shang Qinghua's perspective as possible without laying in the dirt. "See?! I can't believe they actually found some of these to plant here!"

'These' were a cluster of small blue and white flowers that grew around the base of the flowering bush, to scale with Shang Qinghua as a human realm daisy would have been to Mobei-Jun. The human hovered nearby, being careful not to so much as breathe on them as he stared with wide eyes.

"I never thought I'd get to see them," Shang Qinghua whispered.

Plants... were not Mobei-Jun's specialty. For clear reasons. Few grew well in the North, and he didn't typically have the time to make a study of them. So the reason for his human's awe was a mystery. "What is it?"

"They're Heaven's Cure Blossoms," he said, deciding to completely ignore how cheesy the name sounded. He'd been three red bulls and eight hours of writing in when it'd come up, okay? "They're incredibly rare, and even when they do show up, people don't usually notice them because they're so small."

"Mn."

Mobei... still had no idea what was interesting about them. Even if the name was distantly familiar. He didn't know why, or where he'd have heard of them, but still. If Shang Qinghua was that excited, they had to be special.

"Does Qinghua wish for some in his room?" the demon asked. They weren't something he had ordered planted, and with their out of sight location, he suspected that they'd been carried in by one of the demon birds rather than his gardeners. Something they might have considered a weed. But if Qinghua wanted it, he would get it, and his king would see that the rest were allowed to grow and spread.

But the reaction he got was one of horror instead of pleasure before his advisor started to sputter denials. "Pick them, my king?! We can't do that, especially not for someone like me! Maybe for a well born princess or something, but not a human servant! Or an advisor! We'd probably end up cursed at best for daring and I'm already in enough trouble with the one that's already on me!"

Clearly, the suggestion had been a mistake. Mobei-Jun nodded stiffly and reached out to wrap his hand around his stressed human, lifting him away from the flowers. "Calm. They will be left to thrive."

"It's really bad luck to pick those for the wrong person, my king," Shang Qinghua insisted, grabbing onto the demon's fingers as though to keep them from offending the plants. "They're only really supposed to be offered to a god, and only when you're sure that they're going to accept them. Doing anything else risks insulting them and spelling doom!"

Straightening up, he held Shang Qinghua to his chest until he calmed down. "They are important to Qinghua's god?"

He didn't particularly like the idea of the cultivator bowing to some unknown god. The only being his human should bow to was him. For any reason. So there was clearly no reason that the little flowers should ever be picked.

Still, the question did them the favor of snapping Shang Qinghua from his flailing in favor of blinking up at him. "My... god? I don't have a god, my king! As if I'd have time to worship anyone when I have so much work to do all the time. But I didn't mean any particular one either. Which is beside the point. You have to tell the gardeners to leave those flowers alone. They'd be the ones cursed, along with anyone who was given them, and then I'd have to find a new group of gardeners. Do you know how hard it is to find skilled gardeners in the Northern Desert? Or, hell, the demon realm at all? I think Lord Luo snatched them all up to maintain that bamboo forest of his!"

Shang Qinghua was still babbling, but it'd returned to a normal sort of babbling. Complaints about his duties and the challenges of finding and keeping a good staff. Even before their explosive clearing of the air, Mobei-Jun was familiar with such a rant, even if it was not typically done directly to him. He had overheard more than a few being delivered to his human's demon assistants, however. And occasionally members of his sect, though with a different context.

It meant all was well again.

Standing with his cultivator still in his hand, Mobei-Jun began to walk the garden himself, now able to take longer steps without risking Qinghua's safety. Taking them away from the tiny flowers that he still didn't quite understand. There would be research required to their regard, but later.

The tiny human fell quiet after a bit, and Mobei could feel him sag into his grip more than he saw it. A glance down assured him that Qinghua was still fine. Better than, perhaps. Because from what Mobei-Jun could see, he'd actually relaxed, leaning forward with his arms folded over the finger wall in front of him, chin resting on them as he watched where they were going.

Meaning he missed the small smile that grew larger on his king's lips again. Qinghua was relaxing with him. When he was literally in his grasp. Good. Progress.

"You know... if my king wants to put flowers in our room," Shang Qinghua said slowly, "Snowbells are pretty. And not likely to get you cursed by the gods."

Mobei-Jun nodded thoughtfully. "Very well."

It was Shang Qinghua's turn to smile as he looked up at him. His king wasn't mad at him for turning down the offer earlier (and how!). Working relationship progress! Even if the idea of being offered flowers (especially those flowers! He knew what he'd thought about when he wrote them!), made him want to squirm in all kinds of embarrassing ways.

He just had to hope that his king didn't notice.

Needing to go attend to court once again was a welcome relief from the awkward feelings, honestly. This was something he knew. Something he was good at. And something that, for the writer of the world, could be as cut and dry as typed words on a page. This lord was underpaying his taxes. That merchant was adding weight charms to the goods he sold the palace. That cousin trying to claim a blood-right was only the stepchild of his clan leader and not blood at all.

He filed away everything in his head, wishing for a way to write things down while hiding away in secret. Perhaps he could ask his king for a box to hide in or something, instead of on his shoulder. It would be humiliating, probably too cage-like for his tastes, but at least he could have a writing set in there and take notes! How was he supposed to properly advise when he couldn't even take notes?

Their tardy General from before droned on with the financial reports from the section of the army he was in charge of. Shang Qinghua had the feeling that something was off with them, but credited it to his accountants being incompetent. From what he'd seen, most demons who served in his king's military did so because they loved the excuse to fight and the first go at so many kills, not because they were mathematic wizzes. He hadn't written soldiers to be smart. He'd written them to fight off screen while Binghe or his king took center stage most of the time. And canon fodder officers were in the same box, unless they were sexy demon lady generals who could be seduced by his son, resulting in them either showing up in increasingly skimpy armor from time to time, or giving up their weapons for silks and jewels in the harem.

Anyway, he'd just have to fix everything when he got a chance to get into the ledgers again, and just hope that there wasn't too much correcting to do before they figured out his curse and whatever the System wanted him to do. Because it'd been suspiciously quiet since the last time it'd started him on that last 'quest stage' and he had no idea what his goal actually was. Which? Fucking unfair!

There was no way that Mobei-Jun didn't hear his annoyed sigh considering he was almost directly below the demon's ear. Mobei-Jun tilted his head slightly to put it closer, wordlessly asking if there was anything important he needed to tell him.

"It's nothing, my king," he murmured once someone else started speaking to help hide his voice from listeners. "But is it too late to require lessons in math as a requirement to touch accounting?"

His king couldn't reply, of course, but there was a hint of a smirk just visible from his viewing point. There would be no argument there.

-

In the Underground Palace, the statement of no arguments could not be made so easily. For the simple reason that marital bliss was often interrupted by the visitation of in-laws. Particularly in Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu's case.

There were no snacks laid out on the table standing bravely between the last two heavenly demons alive, and only Shen Qingqiu, quiet and exasperated at Binghe's side, even had a cup of tea. Which he kept cradled in his hands for the risk that his husband might overturn the table at any moment.

"No tea for your father, my unfilial son?" Tianlang-Jun asked cheerfully, as if he was completely unaware of the glare his offspring was shooting him. If Luo Binghe had been gifted with laser eyes, the former Emperor would have been reduced to ash within moments of his arrival. Thankfully for the peace, Airplane hadn't been that much of a shameless hack to start ripping off X-Men comics. As far as his readers had noticed, anyway.

Even if he was skirting the edges sometimes with some of the Mobei clan powers, and a few wives who'd been suspiciously similar. Thankfully, wives that hadn't come out of the woodwork yet, so Shen Qingqiu couldn't really compare up close.

But all that was beside the point. The point was that the demon lord who'd tried to kill them not particularly long ago had decided to visit. Just because.

And Binghe wasn't happy about it. He continued to glare coldly, only a delicate touch to his arm keeping him from just going for his sword. "Uninvited guests don't receive tea. And I need no father. I have Shizun."

Tianlang-Jun raised an eyebrow, looking between them. "So that's the new angle, is it?"

Shen Qingqiu stiffened. Oh, he knew what the demon was suggesting and they were not going there! "There are no new angles! Get your mind out of the sewer!"

"Ah, but son-in-law, if you're husband, teacher, and father, all at the same time, what am I supposed to think?" Tianlang-Jun asked brightly, tilting his head to the side. "I wonder if that'll make it into the next edition. I'll have to get you a copy when it comes out, as a late wedding present."

Dangerously, Shen Qingqiu noticed the shift in his disciple's posture as curiosity started to creep around the wall of hostility. Oh no, he remembered the last time one of those books had come out. He hadn't been able to stand, much less walk! Binghe didn't need to be given any more ideas!

"If you so much as bring another of those books near either of us, I will find the best weed killer money and power can buy and spray you with it!" he threatened, slamming his cup down on the table, no longer caring if it got broken. He was more worried about his ass getting broken!

Binghe sulked back into his seat, giving Shen Qingqiu a look like he was a puppy suffering a beating, and not the Emperor of the demon realm.

Tianlang-Jun didn't even have the grace to look threatened, letting out a boisterous laugh.

"Master Shen, delightfully sharp as always! An excellent mate for one of my family," he declared with a grin. "A pity you couldn't have taken my nephew on as well. Between the two of us, we could have gotten him out of his shell more. But I see you've been training my son instead. Well done!"

"Is there a reason you came, other than to interfere with our marriage?" Shen Qingqiu ground out slowly, taking his turn to be the one glaring.

"Ah, and my son-in-law turns so cold," the former lord said with an exaggerated sigh. "Can't it have been merely to check on your welfare? I heard that someone took their eyes off you for a moment and you were kidnapped! It's such a relief to see you're well, of course. Who knows what could have happened. After all, the new Mobei clan's king looked away from HIS human for a while, and it seems no one has heard of him since."

Shen Qingqiu snorted, straightening up and opening his fan. "That simply means no one has paid attention. My shidi is perfectly well and in his king's company."

"Oh ho?" Tianlang-Jun leaned his head on a hand, pouncing on the mystery puzzle piece offered. "Is that so? Well, that is good news. The word about was that Mobei-Jun called off his search. I suppose he must have found the little thing, then. Excellent. I would hate for my son-in-law to lose one of his martial family so easily. Especially one as used to demons as yourself."

"Shang-shidi is a peak lord of Cang Qiong Sect," the cultivator said stiffly. "He wouldn't die so easily."

"Ah, of course, of course," the demon said cheerfully. "Perhaps I'll have to go visit the young king myself eventually. I never did see much of his father, or that crafty uncle of his. If only my old bones appreciated the cold more. The family does produce such beauties, truly. Your mother was painted much warmer, but she could have been born from them if she put on just a bit of disguise. So cold and lovely."

"Yes, eventually. I'm sure they'd love to have you," Binghe said, his voice flat.

"Binghe," Shen Qingqiu hissed, nudging him in the side. This was not the time to suggest the other heavenly demon go bother Mobei-Jun, considering Shang Qinghua's present condition—that they were trying to keep a secret!

"Later. Visit later," Binghe amended reluctantly. "Mobei-Jun is busy."

Of course, Tianlang-Jun caught onto the interaction immediately and leaned forward in interest. "Is that so? Perhaps I should go see if I can lend some wisdom after all. I'm sure his little servant won't mind sharing a warming talisman or two."

"You should really wait," Shen Qingqiu said, his fan covering his grimace as he held back the urge to facepalm. Binghe, did you have to mention visiting? "Go in a few months. This master doubts you will receive a very warm reception at the moment. Figuratively, of course." As no one got a literally warm reception in the Northern Desert. "We spoke with my shidi and his king recently. They are very, very busy."

He should have known better than to phrase it like that to the perverted old man. He really should have. But when the demon's eyes lit up in mischievous interest, Shen Qingqiu knew that it was too late. Fuck.

"Ah, of course. You'll have to pass on my congratulations then," Tianlang-Jun said, clapping his hands together. "Good for them, to finally complete a proper courtship. The gossip I heard made it seem like they'd never complete the final steps, or questioned if Mobei's little human would survive. But he must be even craftier than rumored. But ah, it's getting late isn't it? I won't trouble my son-in-law to prepare a room for me, don't worry. I have some things I'd like to explore before I return to the monastery. You and my dear son will have to visit me next time."

Both heavenly demons stood up, Binghe gritting his teeth as he put up with having his shoulder patted. "We'll discuss it," he said stiffly. Meaning hell no, but with better manners of course.

"Of course, of course. Enjoy your night, but do let your poor husband get some rest!"

"He's going to go straight to the Northern Desert," Shen Qingqiu said as soon as the door shut behind the full blooded demon.

Binghe ducked his head. "I'm sorry, Shizun. I shouldn't have said anything."

The human cultivator waved it off with a sigh. "What's done is done. We'll have to send a warning to Mobei-Jun. If he's going on foot, it'll take at least a few days to get there. Send a flying messenger and it'll beat him there."

He hoped.

-

Being hidden from view around the other demons was nice. So was actually getting that vacation from work that he'd been whining about for years. Even if he was tiny, being kept close to Mobei day and night meant he was safe, which had to also be nice. His king brought him to the garden daily, they actually talked, and just that morning he'd even been presented with some proper dishes made to his scale.

All in all, even with the situation as it was, everything was going pretty good.

That didn't explain the fact that with every day he was kept safe out of sight like a well-loved pet (but not a pet, because Mobei said so!), he began to get twitchier and twitchier.

"Something is bothering you," Mobei-Jun said as they returned to his rooms two weeks from his first shrinking. Their rooms? Because he'd never so much as slept in the new bedroom he'd been given yet.

"Oh, it's nothing my king," Shang Qinghua said quickly. He'd asked for a vacation for so long, what right did he have to complain about finally getting one? "I'm fine."

"Qinghua."

He sighed, recognizing that tone. Since when had his king been so perceptive? "Really, you don't have to worry about anything. I've just been thinking about how much work is piling up while I'm like this."

"Others are handling it," Mobei-Jun said with a snort. He offered a hand to the tiny human, lifting him down from his shoulder. "Your assistants. Your disciples."

Perhaps the children on Qinghua's peak had been a little stressed when they'd stopped by, and while Mobei-Jun didn't pay much attention to the small swarm of demons his human had determined smart and safe enough to work with, he could admit that they had appeared a little harried when they'd brought their reports to the one standing in for Qinghua in his role of steward. (A temporary promotion. Only until Qinghua 'returned,' and when he'd told the small demon as much he'd shown relief. Good. The thing wouldn't be trying to take over his human's place.)

"That doesn't mean they're handling it right," Shang Qinghua said with a groan. "My students don't have access to everything a peak lord does, even Shi Wuyou. And as much as I trust my assistants, they're assistants for a reason! They assist! They're not used to or trained to do everything it takes to run this palace!"

Mobei-Jun raised an eyebrow, studying him without setting the human down anyplace. "Qinghua is bothered by that?"

"Of course I'm bothered! But there isn't all that much I can do about it until I'm back to normal, is there?" Shang Qinghua huffed. He paced a tight circle on his king's open hand. "I'm not used to being unable to do anything! Sure, I can whisper to you at court, and we talk after, but without my resources there's so much I can't even double check and verify. I don't even have a way to take notes to think over later. Wouldn't that bother you?"

From Mobei's blank expression, it was clear that no, he didn't quite get what the human was upset over still. But he nodded after a moment. "This king understands."

Shang Qinghua sighed and sat down, letting his legs dangle as Mobei curved his fingers up to provide a backrest. "I'm sorry, my king. It's not your fault. I'm just not looking forward to having to fix everything later. Between the backlog from before, and now more, I'm going to be buried in work for months."

"Qinghua will have help," Mobei said, patting his head with a finger. Shang Qinghua had found himself beginning to lean into the head pats. They were... they were nice.

"Thank you, my king," he said. He tipped his head up to give him a tired smile. "You've been really helpful for all of this too. It would have been a lot harder without you."

The tips of the demon's ears darkened as Mobei looked away. "Qinghua does not need to thank this king."

"You don't get to decide that," Shang Qinghua said with a huff. Inwardly, he marveled over the fact that he could speak so directly to his king now. Only months ago, he wouldn't have dreamed it. Or, rather, it might have shown up in his nightmares, right before the Mobei in said dreams offed him.

He had issues, okay? After everything he'd put up with over the years, who wouldn't?!

But Shang Qinghua finding his spine didn't mean that Mobei-Jun was any less stubborn, and he carefully but firmly touched a blunted claw to the underside of his human's chin to make him raise his head and look him in the eye.

"This king requires no thanks from Shang Qinghua, because it is what he should have been doing for years," the demon said. His tone was as gentle as his touch, but there was still steel beneath it. He would not be argued with. "Do you understand?"

Blood rushing in his ears, Shang Qinghua swallowed. Mobei's stare, icy blue fixed on his face with intensity that he could feel, left him feeling stripped bare in a way he hadn't when he'd been literally naked in front of him after his arrival there. My king, you can't keep doing this to me! But Mobei-Jun was still waiting for an answer, and he swallowed again to force back any embarrassing sounds before nodding against the claw.

"Yes, my king."

Mobei held him in that position for a moment longer before taking his finger away and letting Shang Qinghua scramble out of his hand and onto the surface of the desk once more. The tiny human turned his back to him, busying himself with fixing his robes after being handled again. Unnecessary, but Mobei didn't interrupt him, taking his seat instead as he wordlessly began to work on his own paperwork. Which, unlike Qinghua's, couldn't be handed to an assistant to do. His human could manage it, he knew, but he wouldn't trust anyone else to.

So perhaps he could understand the cultivator's worries after all. Either way, it was one situation that would be a simple matter to handle.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua hadn't expected his little outburst to change a single thing. Really. Since when did it ever, with one single notable exception? Which didn't explain the odd sounds he heard from Mobei's front room when he woke up the following morning.

The demon was already gone from the bed, which wasn't all that uncommon. The door between the rooms was also ajar, which was likewise typical. Mobei liked to be able to hear when he started moving in the morning, his hearing many times stronger than even a cultivator's. Still, there was the sound of more movement than he was used to hearing. Had Shen-bro come to visit or something? It had to be important if he was up that early in the morning.

It was probably a bad idea to go investigate himself, but he was curious. And Mobei didn't let just anyone into his room. So the urge to investigate managed to win over his well-developed sense of caution for once.

Sliding down from the pillow and using Mobei's tossed aside blanket as a way to get down to the floor, Shang Qinghua crossed the floor to stand in the gap for a view. And had to stare.

Mobei-Jun was seated on his lounging couch rather than his desk, fully dressed for the day, and staring at a familiar demon who was at the desk, trying to hold a brush steady despite shaking as he worked on a stack of papers under such intense supervision. And who could blame him! That stare could kill a lesser man, and while Hu Wenshi was his favorite assistant, he hadn't exactly hired him for his nerves!

"My king? What is Hu Wenshi doing here?" he asked before slapping a hand over his mouth. Both sets of demon eyes locked onto him, Mobei's narrowing while his assistant's went wide in surprise.

"L-lord Shang?" Hu Wenshi sputtered in shock. He started to stand before a glare from their king sent him right back to his seat with a squeak.

"Ah, yes, it's me," Shang Qinghua said nervously, not moving from where he'd placed himself, no matter how much the instinct to run tried to rise up. Mobei-Jun was there, and his assistant didn't even eat human meat. Nothing was going to happen to him. Still, he looked away from his staring assistant to his king. "Um... what's going on, my king?"

"Qinghua worried about his work," Mobei-Jun said, like it was a simple thing. "This king will allow you to work for a few hours each day. Your assistant will do his duty to enable you. He will not touch you."

The last statement was directed at the smaller demon, who was quick to nod his head in agreement. "Absolutely no touching, Your Majesty. This lowly one swears it on his life! Your servant will only do his best to aid Lord Shang for as long as the honor is granted him!"

Shang Qinghua couldn't help it. He stared at the two even longer. His king had brought his assistant there, into his private rooms... to help him?

"Is Qinghua pleased?" Mobei-Jun asked after the silence stretched on for too long.

Snapping out of it, the author swallowed and nodded his head. "Yes, my king! We'll get to work right away!"

A subtle smirk crossed the ice demon's lips as he rose to his feet and approached his tiny advisor. "After you eat. And dress."

Dress..? Shang Qinghua blinked before looking down at himself. At the ruffled sleeping robes he'd woken up in, hair hanging over his shoulder in a sloppy braid. Flushing, he abruptly pulled the robe more tightly closed around himself, turning around to dart back into the bedroom, only for familiar fingers to sweep him up into their grasp. Mobei didn't mind his advisor's little yelp of surprise as he carried him back over towards the bed where they'd set up the small storage box holding his spare clothes.

"My king, you should have told me you were bringing someone over this morning," Shang Qinghua huffed as he was set down, grabbing his inner robes to duck behind the box for modesty while he quickly changed out of his sleeping robes. Two more layers were draped over it from above, which he pulled on before tying his belts tightly. "I wouldn't have come out all sloppy like that!"

"Qinghua came out before expected," Mobei-Jun said without guilt or shame. He already had the tiny comb in hand before Shang Qinghua came back out of his hiding place, holding it out for him to use. "This king suggests dressing before doing so in the future."

"I liked you better when you didn't talk as much," he huffed, not serious. But he could tell when he was being teased! "And my king should know that a few hours isn't going to be enough to catch up after being away for weeks."

"Your healer instructed you to rest," his king reminded him, handing him each piece for his hair one by one. It was so domestic he would have laughed if he weren't busy holding his ribbon in his lips. "This king has seen you work for days straight when allowed. It would not be acceptable as rest. And would not allow Qinghua to continue to attend court."

"I'm all healed up already! And it’s not like I can really do much in there," Shang Qinghua said once his ribbon was tied, accepting the bead 'guan.' He studied it for a moment, already fond of it, before fixing it over his customary bun and sticking it with his pin. "There, all dressed. Carry me out? I'm ready to get to work seeing how much of a mess I'm facing."

"Breakfast first," Mobei-Jun insisted as he picked him up regardless, ignoring his claims to be recovered. His advisor was still small, after all. And clearly, breakfast wasn't going to be in the bedroom.

Breakfast was fruit and his teas, and Mobei made sure he took a second helping of the former before he allowed him near his desk. A decent section had been marked off for his use, and from the way his assistant didn't so much as reach over the area, it was obvious that Mobei had made threats about keeping out of it. Overprotective nut.

But... well, protective of him. Which he still found strange, no matter how many times Mobei-Jun had protected him, even just passively by being there and having a claim over him, over the years they'd known each other. But it was a good kind of strange.

Well, it was good strange for him. Poor Hu Wenshi wasn't having anywhere near as good a time as Mobei loomed over him as they worked, making sure that he didn't so much as breathe too close to the human cultivator currently looking over a set of financial calculations sent in from the various members of the army.

"Are you sure these are the most recent numbers?" Shang Qinghua asked, frowning at the report. Something just wasn't adding up right, and it itched something in the back of his mind unpleasantly. "And not from the previous king's reign?"

"This one collected the numbers himself, Lord Shang," the small demon said, frowning. Had he made a mistake in writing them down? No, he'd double checked them against the scribbled notes from the Generals, and the hasty ones he'd written while chasing after those who didn't think they had to report anything to a lowly scribe. "What is wrong with them?"

"Hm, I'm not sure, but there's definitely something not right here." Shang Qinghua sighed and moved away from the paper. "Set it aside. We'll revisit it later. Let's start on the treaty renewals. I want to make sure no one's trying to be sneaky about their promises to serve under our king. Some of those minor lords seem like the type who would try something because he's a new king. Stupid. He's been acting as king for years."

His assistant dug through the piles that’d been brought in for the documents, going to lay the whole stack on the desk before a glance from Mobei-Jun changed his mind and he switched to just taking the first ones off of the top instead. "Here, Lord Shang. This one, ah, this one will provide more once the first have been read. To make sure the stack doesn’t fall over onto you."

"What? Oh, sure, that makes sense," the advisor said. He left his ‘box’ to walk over to the much smaller pile, digging his fingers under the wax seal to break it open while his assistant hovered, clearly wanting to help but afraid of moving too close and angering his much more terrifying king. Shang Qinghua kicked the scroll to unroll it, having settled into efficiency mode upon his return to work. He muttered to himself as he read, walking all over the page. It wasn’t an elegant document, a barebones treaty from one of the smaller seal demon clans that could basically be summed up as ‘yeah, yeah, same deal as for the old man but please buy more pelts.’ Reasonable, though he’d have to run the numbers first to make sure that they actually needed more pelts from them.

Shang Qinghua grabbed one of the sheets of paper that Mobei had cut down for him to scribble down a collection of notes, waving at his assistant for the next one. Then the next. And the next.

The pair were halfway through the stack when Mobei-Jun’s hand came down on it, preventing Hu Wenshi from picking up another scroll. He squeaked and jumped out of the way with a deep bow.

"Another scroll, Hu Wenshi," Shang Qinghua said without looking up from his notes. The pile of them had been growing at about the same rate as the stack of scrolls had been shrinking, the cultivator’s fingertips black with ink. When the requested scroll didn’t appear, he looked up with a huff, only to pause at the sight of his king standing so much closer than before. "My king? Is there something you needed?"

"That is enough for today," Mobei-Jun said firmly. He gave a look to the assistant who quickly began to gather up the finished work that was ready to be delivered elsewhere, scrambling for the door. Once they were alone once more, Mobei looked down at his tiny advisor again. "It is time for lunch."

"My king, I was on a roll," Shang Qinghua protested, trying to dodge away from the demon’s hand before he was scooped up. Trying being the operative word. He flailed as he was picked up anyway. "Hey!"

"Lunch," the demon repeated. "And then rest."

"But what about the treaties?" he asked, squirming. But far from gaining him his freedom, Mobei-Jun’s fingers merely tightened around him, holding him more firmly in place.

"The treaties will keep. Qinghua may attend to them again later."

"My king...!"

Mobei-Jun ignored the continued protests as he carried his advisor away from the desk to a separate table before allowing him out of his grip. Ruffled, Shang Qinghua huffed as he once again fixed his robes, trying to manage it one handed to make sure he didn't smear the ink onto them. Observing, Mobei summoned a small bit of ice before allowing it to melt in his cupped palm.

"Wash your hands," he said, laying his hand down on the table. When Shang Qinghua just stared at it, he frowned and moved his hand closer. "Wash."

"But, my king, I'll just get you dirty instead like that!" Shang Qinghua claimed, holding his ink stained hands close to his chest before quickly moving them away from the silk once more.

"This king will survive," Mobei said flatly, staring him into submission.

And it worked, eventually, the cultivator creeping forward to kneel against the edge of Mobei's hand and dipping his own into the small pool of cold water. The water that, indeed, turned dark quickly as the ink rubbed off from Shang Qinghua's fingers. When Mobei wasn't satisfied, he refroze the water (human quickly yanking his hands free) and repeated the process to create a new pool of clean water. This repeated a few times until Shang Qinghua's hands were as clean as mere water could make them. Some ink still stained his fingers, but it no longer rubbed off on anything else, which he proved by rubbing them on his wrist, sleeves pushed up to keep dry.

"See, all clean," he said, holding his arms up to move it. His hands were red from scrubbing and the cold. But Mobei was more interested in the fact that his face was roughly the same color. "Let's eat so this one can get back the treaties. Is that acceptable, my king?"

Freezing and setting aside the inky ice shard, Mobei frowned at him. "No. Qinghua is done with paperwork for the day."

"But my king! I'm so far behind! And there's so much more that needs doing with the transition of the courts, and I haven't even been able to-"

A giant finger pushing against his mouth cut off the start of his rant, and Shang Qinghua froze as he stared past it up at the demon.

"Qinghua will be allowed to continue his work later," Mobei-Jun said, looking down at him. "This king will read over the rest of the treaties himself."

"But- but that’s my job," Shang Qinghua said weakly once his mouth was uncovered.

Mobei-Jun sighed at his stubborn little cultivator. Sometimes he worried that the human thought he might explode from too much contained energy if he didn’t keep his fingers in every aspect of his kingdom. And he knew perfectly well that, if allowed, Shang Qinghua would work through the night until he was caught up once he believed himself behind.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

"Qinghua’s power is reduced. He needs to limit himself," he said after searching for the words. Mobei was not used to speaking so much, but over the last few days, he was trying to retrain himself in that. He leaned closer, looming over the tiny human more. "It is no trouble to share the burden of ruling with him."

Catching the subtle (or not so subtle) suggestion, the author flailed with wide eyes. "My king! This lowly one wouldn’t- He couldn’t- I’m not trying to rule anything!"

Mobei-Jun raised an eyebrow. "No? Is it not the king’s duty to handle such things that my clever advisor hoards to himself?"

Red going redder, Shang Qinghua tried to put words together to properly deny the accusation. He wasn’t trying to take the ruling of the Northern Desert from his king. Exactly the opposite!

But then he noticed the shift in Mobei-Jun’s mouth, a certain glint in his eyes, and the panic that’d been threatening to creep in was cleared out in a heartbeat, replaced by embarrassed outrage.

"You- you- You’re teasing me!" he accused, pointing an arm up at the horrible, horrible demon! He marched forward, Mobei leaning further down to him so that his hair spilled down off his shoulder. Putting it right in reach for him to grab hold of and yank. "How dare you do that with such a straight face!"

The demon snorted and straightened up, taking his cultivator with him. Shang Qinghua yelped as he suddenly found himself needing to cling to those black strands. Excuse me, he was scolding his king! This wasn’t fair! He wanted to talk to his union!

With Mobei-Jun leaning back, it brought the dangling human up against his chest, right where his robes gaped in their usual style. And right where it made Shang Qinghua blush as red as wedding robes.

His king’s chest. Those wonderful, magnificently muscled pecs that he’d written thousands of words about even if they’d never made it out of the drafts because he hadn’t wanted to share, or chance his son’s rabid fans trying to tear his favorite character apart. Shang Qinghua thought he could die right there and then and he’d ascend as a Buddha in full enlightenment.

Of course, the fact that he didn’t actually want to die kept him from giving into the urge to lick it. Death by being splatted like a bug for daring would be so much worse than death by ramen-induced electrocution.

A pair of claws pinched the back of his robes and lifted him away from his happy place Mobei-Jun’s chest and he was brought up to dangle in front of the demon’s amused face.

"Are you done?" Mobei-Jun asked, having the nerve to look completely unbothered by the way he’d just so casually delivered and then ripped away one of his advisor’s oldest fantasies without even realizing.

Face still feeling oh so very warm, Shang Qinghua didn’t think he was ready to speak without squeezing, so he just nodded mutely. He didn’t even realize that he’d been still clutching Mobei’s hair until the strands were tugged from his grasp. Oh.

"Mn, good. My advisor will do the work he’s provided, and little more, for the near future," Mobei said with a nod, finally bringing a hand beneath the tiny author to let him stand on his palm once again. "Once this affliction is solved, we will discuss more. This king will, however, accept his advisor’s wisdom as always."

"There’s a lot this lowly one can still do, my king," Shang Qinghua said, trying not to sulk all that obviously. "And things are so far behind…"

"Hmph. The kingdom will not fall because some accounting was not completed on time."

"Says the king who’s never balanced a sect budget in his life," he muttered automatically before shooting a glance at the demon. Who, thankfully, let it pass.

Once Shang Qinghua was back on the table once again, Mobei left it briefly to collect a tray from the door and they ate in relative silence.

"Thanks for bringing Hu Wenshi in, my king," Shang Qinghua said at last. "I think I forgot to say that earlier. I know you’ve been doing your best to keep my condition a secret. Which I appreciate!"

"Qinghua trusts him," Mobei-Jun said simply. "And his work is… adequate."

The cultivator snickered. Coming from Mobei-Jun, that was high praise indeed, but he still felt the need to mentally raise a glass for his poor minion. Poor guy worked his tail off and got called adequate. If he’d been human, his head disciple might have had competition.

"So then, afternoon court next?" he asked after the comfortable silence had stretched a while longer. Their tray sat empty of food, Mobei-Jun sipping at a cup of cold tea. Not medicinal, thank goodness.

Mobei nodded his head, setting down his cup and standing before offering a hand to the shrunken human. "Mn."

Climbing up, Shang Qinghua held on as he was brought up. Just to his king’s shoulder this time, not those spring dream worthy pecs, but he still couldn’t deny the view was nice. "You know, I was serious about wishing I could use something to take notes. Today’s a wash, of course, but do you think we could figure something out?"

"Perhaps." Making sure that his human was safely settled, Mobei once more arranged his hair to hide him from sight.

"What about a piece of wax I could scratch into?" Shang Qinghua suggested while they were still safely alone. No servants lingered too close to the royal chambers unless they were called for. "Then I could copy anything important onto paper later, and we wouldn’t risk me spilling ink all over you."

Mobei-Jun tilted his head as he considered the proposition. He agreed that brush and ink would not be practical. With Qinghua’s idea, the only caution they would need to exercise was to avoid upsetting his balance while writing. And Mobei had been paying attention to his balance already. He would not allow Shang Qinghua to fall.

"Mn."

They had to drop the conversation as Mobei-Jun entered a more populated section of the palace. With the way people fell silent upon the king’s approach, Shang Qinghua couldn’t even whisper to him without risk of being heard.

Of course, once they reached the throne room and court began, it was once more an entirely different story.

Come to think of it, it was a good thing that he’d been the one to shrink and not Cucumber. Not only would Binghe have never let him leave his physical person, much less their bedroom, but he didn’t think that his bro would handle the amount of noise in a demon court if he did convince his husband to bring him out in hiding. Shang Qinghua, on the other hand, was entirely, bizarrely, used to it by now.

And, well, he’d written cultivation techniques for enhancing hearing, hadn’t he? Who said that part of that couldn’t also be used t to filter specific voices? Normally, he was too busy, writing notes, running quick fact checks, not to mention twitching whenever particularly large demons looked his way for too long. But the one perk of being tiny had to be that he wasn’t in view. So he could sit, meditate, and listen.

Most of the chatter was useless. This demon lord didn’t like that demon lord. This one’s sister had run off with a servant. Comments about the emperor and what they thought about his choice of a monogamous marriage with a human man (though they did seem to like that he was strong, at least). Shang Qinghua cleared his throat when that conversation wandered towards his king and who Mobei-Jun might be taking to his bed. Namely, him.

Which… was true? But not in the way they were suggesting! His king was just keeping a close eye on him and paying him back for years of true servitude, that was all! No matter how much he’d like some of the things mentioned in a certain ballad that would remain unnamed. Though obviously without the teacher fetish. Not for him.

Shaking his head, he forcibly blocked out those particular voices to listen for something else. Anything else.

"…returned to his palace with both legs broken. Beat to hell."

"Should have attacked before the ceremony if he wanted a chance."

"For a descendant of the Mobei clan, he is too hot tempered."

Shang Qinghua frowned, sorting through what they’d said. It didn’t take a spymaster to pick up who was being discussed. Obviously, his king’s uncle had survived. Unfortunate, but he understood that Mobei-Jun was reluctant to kill a close family member. Even if Linguang-Jun had no such reluctances.

But it was still useful information. It warned that the demon was alive, still injured, and where he’d gone to recover. Hopefully, he’d stay there for a while, but Shang Qinghua knew better than to just assume everything would turn out conveniently well like that.

The cultivator had been just about to spread his attention once more when one of the demons spoke again.

"Your bet on the uncle was a loss, then. Planning to switch to the nephew?"

A scoff. "He’s a baby. And he listens to human advice. He won’t last long. Not once the General acts."

Shang Qinghua fumed silently. Like they would ever have a better ruler than his king! He made a mental note to track down who those two were and make sure that they never held positions in this court again!

Sadly, neither of the speakers came up to petition or speak to his king, so he was unable to put voices to faces. Which was more than a little vexing. He’d figure out who they were eventually!

Sulking, he pulled himself out of the meditation to lean against his king’s neck, feeling particularly protective of the demon after hearing such doubts about his chances. No two-bit general was going to take down his king after he’d put so much work into keeping him alive to succeed his father. He’d even fought against Linguang-Jun for him!

Feeling him move, Mobei leaned his head fractionally to the side, putting his ear closer in case there was something Shang Qinghua wanted to tell him.

"It’s nothing, my king," he murmured, patting the pointed ear with his hand. "I’ll tell you about it later." Mobei probably already knew that his uncle had survived, or else he would have needed to at least make a show of a funeral for the royal prince. Dying trying to murder their new king wouldn’t really have stained his reputation all that much, knowing demons.

"Hm." Mobei-Jun didn’t bother to straighten up, leaning forward slowly to lean his head on a fist, the very picture of a bored prince watching his subjects make fools of themselves. Picturing it made Shang Qinghua cover his mouth to keep from snickering out loud. Though a few small sounds still got out. His king really was spoiled, wasn’t he?

Of course, with his hand already up so close to Shang Qinghua’s hiding place, the moment he decided to gather the human up from his shoulder went unnoticed. Well, to everyone except for Shang Qinghua of course!

Instead of just wrapping his hand around him like he’d done before, Mobei’s fingers caught on the hem of his advisor’s robes and he used that to tug him from his stable point on the shoulder. The cultivator had to bite his cheek to keep from yelping as he was pulled closer to that hand. What was his king doing?!

He twisted around to try and grab hold of Mobei-Jun’s outer robe, grabbing hold with both hands and kicking at the playful fingers. Shang Qinghua squirmed and wiggled his way just under the edge of that collar. ‘My king!’

"Your majesty, are you listening?"

Mobei-Jun abruptly let go and straightened up on his throne. Which would have been fine. Would have been great, actually. Except for the fact that once under that collar, and no longer held up by his king, Shang Qinghua fell.

The good news: No one could see where he fell and it was a decently soft landing. The… well, not entirely bad news but definitely the embarrassing and awkward news: That meant that his path of descent was sliding down inside those robes and down that beautiful chest.

And he wasn’t between layers this time.

Shang Qinghua absolutely froze as Mobei-Jun stiffened, his shift in posture making the cultivator slide down further before something from outside pressed him in place. And more firmly up against the demon. Who, in case he could ever forget, was literally the man of his dreams. Created in accordance to his horniest dreams. Beautiful, built, and right now? Kinda a giant who could squash him like a bug! And he'd managed to fall inside his clothes like the shrinking scene in a ridiculous harem anime! All that was missing was the squealing and the schoolgirl uniform!

"Your majesty?"

"This king is listening," Mobei-Jun said outside the cloth torture chamber. For someone who knew all the tones of the demon's voice, Shang Qinghua could hear the tension in Mobei's. It wasn't on purpose, my king! This servant would never violate you like this without permission! "Continue."

Still hidden from sight, Shang Qinghua couldn't move. He'd figured out that it was his king's arm pinning him up against the chilly wall of muscle and flesh, keeping him from sliding further down or falling out. He swallowed, brain scrambling as to how to get out of this with both their dignities intact, but nothing was coming to mind. Every thought about the courts, the whispers he'd heard, even Mobei's shitty uncle fled right on out of his mind because oh god he was inside his king's robes. Inside!

His brain spun like it was on a fucking hamster wheel, always coming right back to the feeling of smooth skin pressed to his face, under his hands, the scent of his king's favored soaps overpowering everything else, and the sound of the demon's heart beating from above. Faster than usual, and speeding up.

Mobei-Jun seemed to almost forget he was there after a while, because he shifted his arm up and Shang Qinghua slid further down with a muffled squeak, faced the wrong way to grab hold of those robes even if he'd been ready.

It wasn't Mobei's arm that stopped his sliding this time, but his belt, the cloth cinched in to keep the ensemble as closed as the demon ever bothered. Which was both good and bad. Good, he couldn't fall anymore. Bad, the robe was tighter there, and if he moved too much he risked being seen if anyone looked at just the wrong moment. And the even bigger problem was that his brain knew what was so very close by, proven by the top edge of Mobei's pants likewise pinned under that belt.

He didn't need to try to imagine what would happen if he fell inside there! Immediate heaven, and then immediate death.

'Stay tight, stay tight,' he repeated silently, his eyes wide in the darkness inside his king's robes. An unhelpful part of his brain spoke up about just how tight he'd be, which was not helping! He was talking about the belt! Only the belt!

Thank every bit of karma he'd ever amassed that their situations weren't reversed, because he knew that he would never have been able to sit as still and stoically as Mobei-Jun did if he'd had a tiny demon pressed against him inside his clothes. He'd have been blushing and squirming and would have just made matters so much worse. Of course, he was still blushing, and kinda still squirming, but he was too tiny to do much damage at least!

"Enough," Mobei-Jun said at last, his voice rumbling through his chest and the tiny cultivator so close to him. "Anything more may be sent in writing, or wait for later. Get out."

They got out. Even over the blood rushing through his ears, Shang Qinghua could hear the scramble to leave the throne room once again, fewer stragglers trying to linger this time. At least once Mobei-Jun's growl cut through the air. Even with his warming charm, Shang Qinghua could feel the way the air dipped cooler than usual even around his king.

Oh no.

Mobei-Jun didn't immediately rip him out of his robes, the dizzying chill of a portal telling him that they'd left the room as well, silence greeting them. Well, mostly silent. Shang Qinghua couldn't miss the way his king breathed deeply and slowly. Calming himself? Good, especially for his poor squishable advisor.

When a clawed hand thrust inside those robes, Shang Qinghua didn't try to avoid it as he was grabbed and pulled out, well ruffled and still flushed red. So, so very red.

"What was that?" Mobei demanded, holding him to eye level. His ears were tipped blue, and Shang Qinghua couldn't deny the tinge in the demon's cheeks either, not when they were so close to him.

At least he wasn't the only one embarrassed for once! Not that Mobei had any right to be, when he was the one responsible!

"What was- what was that?" he sputtered in response. "You started tugging on me first! You made me lose my balance! What happened to ignoring me so no one would be able to tell I was there? I could have been seen!"

Mobei's blush, because that was absolutely what it was, darkened as he scowled and looked away without explaining himself. Which, right then, seemed just about as good as a signed admission of guilt. Mobei took another slow breath before bringing his free hand below the one that held his advisor, slowly opening the first so Qinghua could stand. Or sit, because the human promptly did so, still scowling at him.

"I should make you go to court alone tomorrow, just for that! Stay home and catch up on my paperwork while you get to deal with everyone's petty squabbles!"

Mobei-Jun frowned as he looked down at the tiny human in his hands. "Does Qinghua wish to stay behind? This king thought-"

"Oh don't you dare," Shang Qinghua shot back quickly. "You are not taking another part of my job from me! Someone has to keep an ear out on your pack of backstabbing courtiers before they try something stupid and get someone killed. Like me. Especially me! Because if they'd spotted me, they'd know you have a shiny new weakness to exploit, and your pretty face wouldn't be enough to save us like it did when we were dumb teenagers."

Feeling something twisting in his stomach, he studied Shang Qinghua's face. Was that what had stayed his human's hand all those years ago? "This king is grateful, then. That his face was enough to earn mercy from his most loyal advisor."

Realizing what he'd said, Shang Qinghua flushed all over again, quickly turning around to show his back to his king. "Just don't do it again, or at least don't you blame it on me if there's an accident! You're still such a spoiled prince, king or not."

"It is good that this king has someone to remind him to be humble then," Mobei-Jun said, feeling himself relax as Qinghua's temper died down. He hadn't had many chances to witness it before, unfortunately, least of all aimed towards him. At the other members of the staff... he'd been allowed to witness it a few times, and always found it exhilarating to see. Given enough motivation, Qinghua would rip the skin off of an elder demon with his words alone.

"Yeah, well, it's a pretty old tradition, you see. Did I ever tell you about the story of a human emperor who had a servant riding into battle with him just to remind him that he was only human?"

Mobei-Jun raised an eyebrow. "Such a servant would be inaccurate in regards to this king. But he understands the meaning."

Shang Qinghua huffed softly. Why did his king decide now of all times to get himself a sense of humor? He poked at Mobei's hand with his shoe, still not looking at him. He'd wait until the fire in his face went away. Had to be some leftover grains of Black Sun Immortal Fire. Sure, that was the least embarrassing explanation.

"Since this king made mistakes today, Qinghua may choose where we eat our supper tonight," the king offered. A small consolation prize, but right then? He'd take it!

"Out in the garden again," Shang Qinghua said. "Since we ate lunch in. And I bet the stars would look nice."

Mobei-Jun considered the suggestion for a moment before nodding his head. "Does Qinghua have any preferences for what to eat?"

His king really was trying to make it up to him, wasn’t he? Shang Qinghua chewed on the idea. "Dumplings?"

"Not noodles?" the demon asked, looking down at him.

Shang Qinghua blinked before laughing at the reminder. "Not right now, my king. You’d have to leave me to make them if I asked for them tonight. Unless you’re planning to take me to the kitchens with you! But soon! Maybe for lunch tomorrow? It’ll be fine if I’m left with my assistant for a while. He’ll probably be less nervous without you looming over him too."

If he didn’t know better, Shang Qinghua would think that his king pouted at his response, but Mobei-Jun nodded reluctantly anyhow. "Tomorrow then."

"And we can share some dumplings easier anyway! You can just tear me off a piece every now and then and I’ll eat with my hands," he offered, raising them up to show. "You know they’re nice and clean considering you just made me wash them good!"

"Qinghua will need to wash again after eating with his hands," Mobei-Jun pointed out, glancing him over.

"My king, this one should probably take a bath tonight anyway. Being this small is sweaty work, you know. Especially when… things like earlier happen."

Things that he really should try not to think about if he didn’t want to get a hard-on in front of his king when he was being stared at so closely. Or, you know, when his king was there to see at all.

But fuck if he was going to have trouble not imagining it when he went to bed that night.

"Mn. This king will see hot water delivered before we return," Mobei-Jun said. He studied the tiny human. "A servant will need to be told to send the food. Qinghua would be well hidden between layers again."

Between layers. Not against his skin. Because staying in control when he’d felt the press of the tiny cultivator against his skin had been a battle unto itself.

Shang Qinghua hadn’t even really had time for his last blush to fully fade before a new one rose up at the statement, and the unspoken question inherent in it. Mobei was asking… that?

"Oh, uh… Um, yes. I suppose I would be," he said, feeling his face burn. "That would be fine. Between layers. Right."

"There will be no tugging on this time," his king promised, pulling open one of his outermost layers down near the cinch of his belt. Pretty close to where Shang Qinghua had ended up just a bit ago, actually, only with the buffer of silk and linen between them. "Hit me if you need anything."

Unwilling to open his mouth and risk saying something he shouldn’t, Shang Qinghua just nodded as he was brought to that gap and slid into place, Mobei’s hand not moving away until he was stable and unable to fall anywhere else. When the gap was closed off, there wasn’t much light this time either, not that there was anything to see.

"Hold still," Mobei-Jun said, lightly touching the small lump his tiny human made between his robes. The command was unnecessary of course, but made more for his peace of mind before striding out of the royal rooms. He could have taken them through a portal to shorten the length of time that Qinghua would need to be hidden, or eliminate it entirely, but that did not afford him time to find an appropriate servant to send orders to the kitchens.

It was a sensible plan. A simple one. But no plans were without fault, it seemed. The flaw in this one being that the demon was very aware of that spot of warmth against him. Even with the layers between them acting as a buffer, the feel of Qinghua so close was distracting. Only his practice and training for the throne allowed him to keep all composure, stopping a servant in route to redirect them to the kitchens.

Even upon reaching the gardens, Mobei wasn’t immediately free, waiting until the dumplings were actually delivered before he could risk removing Qinghua from the safety of his cover. Leaving him to sit in silence until then.

There was a small push against his side from that warm spot. "Soon, Qinghua." Another thump followed, but it felt more exasperated than urgent, and the hidden human stilled afterwards. Particularly when the servant delivering the food spoke up in a soft, respectful greeting before departing. Once it was safe, Mobei reached into his robes to fetch out his advisor once more. Gentler than the last time. "Apologies. This king did not think you wanted to be seen by the serving staff."

"No, no, that was good thinking my king," Shang Qinghua said, catching his breath. "And it’s still better than riding in Shen-shixiong’s sleeve of all places. Less swinging."

Mobei-Jun found that he was becoming very fond of how ruffled the tiny human was after each time of being handled so. (And could picture other ways he might reach that state.) To keep himself in check, he delivered the man to the garden table, overturning the small wine cup that had yet to be filled in order to serve as a seat.

"When did he carry Qinghua so disrespectfully?" he asked, frowning as he tore off a small corner of the dumpling for his human, giving it a sniff to make sure that the cooks had followed the order to provide one that had neither rotting nor human meat inside before offering it. The pork was certainly a demon variety, but one that was still safe for Qinghua to eat.

"It was when we got grabbed," Shang Qinghua explained before stuffing his mouth full with a happy groan. One that was unfair to the demon trying to behave. "He’d actually stitched in a little front pocket for me at first, but I ditched that to keep from being found right away. Lot of good it did me, of course. Got found anyway, just later."

"So it was not Consort Shen’s idea?" Mobei asked, the frown that’d appeared easing.

"Nope! Actually, he was kind of unconscious when I made the switch I think," he said, shrugging sheepishly. "On the bright side, I figured out that I wasn’t as squishable as I thought I’d be."

Mobei-Jun’s eyes went wide in alarm. "Qinghua!"

"It’s fine!" the cultivator defended quickly. "It wasn’t on purpose, and obviously I didn’t get hurt! But I just happened to be swinging in the wrong spot when Shen-shixiong fell on me, that’s all! It’s a good thing to know! Especially since I can’t exactly fly out of danger like this. At least I don’t have to worry so much about being accidentally sat on or something, right?"

"You are not to test such things again!" Mobei’s hands hovered over him, like he couldn’t decide between grabbing hold of the cultivator and never daring to touch him again for risk of hurting him. Happy result or not, he could just see a very different ending having come from it.

"It’s not like I was trying to do it!" Making the choice for his king, Shang Qinghua reached up and grabbed hold of the lowest finger, wrapping his arms around it. "My king, you know me. The only times I willingly go into danger are for you."

Using that hold on his fingers, Mobei lifted the tiny human and curled his other hand around him gently.

"I do not want you to go into danger for me."

Shang Qinghua looked up at him, swallowing at the earnest look in those eyes, especially for someone often so expressionless. For it to be focused on him, for his safety…

"…My king?" he whispered, voice small.

"Qinghua is important to this king," Mobei-Jun said firmly. "He… He would be devastated to lose him."

The author sat there in Mobei-Jun’s hands, stunned by the words he never thought he’d hear directed at him. Devastated. Not bothered, annoyed, or inconvenienced. Devastated.

He opened and closed his mouth multiple times as he struggled to find the words to respond with. How did anyone respond to something like that? Everything he thought about saying just felt cheap and lazy, like the millions of words he’d used to create this world a lifetime ago. The whole time, he clutched his king’s finger tightly, hugging it to his chest as though it were a lifeline.

"I... My king..."

"Ah, there you are!"

Stiffening, Mobei-Jun swept Shang Qinghua closer to hide him, rising to his feet with a growl. "This king gave orders-" Turning around, he froze mid-phrase.

Tianlang-Jun smiled brightly as he strode into the garden with all the friendly casualness of a rich young master at his own house, and not a fallen emperor invading the territory of his usurper's vassal. "Yes, yes, to keep out of the garden while you dined. Your precious servants told me a few times. But it's such a lovely night that it'd be a shame to let you sit out here alone and brood. Though I'm almost surprised you are alone. Shouldn't you have your dear servant nearby? The squeaky one who flies so quickly."

Held behind Mobei-Jun's back, the cultivator shivered as the air chilled drastically, feeling his king's energy swirling around him especially. Cloaking him, he realized. Because even without having gotten so much as a glimpse of the intruder, it was pretty damn obvious who it was!

Even now, his king was trying to protect him.

"What do you want, Tianlang-Jun?" Mobei-Jun asked, the chill in his voice barely holding onto the edge of what could be considered polite among demons. Respectful of the heavenly demon's strength, but so clearly not liking him.

"Ah, can't an old man make a visit to his son's friends?" the other demon asked cheerfully. "Unexpected, I know, but I heard you boys ran into some trouble recently and thought to see how you made it through. Not to mention tricky it can be to set up a new administration. I'm sure you could use a hand."

"We have been managing it fine," Mobei said stiffly. "I'll instruct the staff to set up a guest room. This king will be prepared to discuss matters with you in the morning."

Tianlang-Jun sighed dramatically as he walked closer. "Always so cold, you northerners. Everything is business or combat. You know, I was never able to convince your father to just go out for a play for the sake of it either. Being a stick in the mud isn't the best way to attract a pretty mate, you know. Or even... a tricky one?"

"You will be granted audience in the morning," Mobei-Jun repeated with a growl.

The older demon didn't pay any attention of course, and slung an arm over Mobei's shoulder, making him stiffen further, fingers curling around his hidden human. "Someday, you'll find someone who'll get you to relax from time to time, I hope. But I'll humor you for now. First thing in the morning, then! We'll have breakfast together. Maybe you can even bring your little human with you. I promise not to bite him!" Laughing, he patted Mobei's cheek before pulling away and heading for the exit with a wave. "I even brought something for you! Goodnight, little Mobei!"

Staring after him, Mobei-Jun didn't even wait for him to completely leave the garden before swiftly cutting open a portal and taking them straight to his chambers before all but slamming it shut. The only thing that kept him from punching something in anger at the dismissing treatment was the precious shape still held in his hand, shivering. Taking a breath, he brought Shang Qinghua back in front of him, drawing the cold away from him as he held him to his chest. Mobei knew that he couldn't warm his human that way, but he still needed to feel that he was still safe.

"It's okay, my king," Shang Qinghua whispered, leaning into him. "I don't think he saw me or he wouldn't have left so easily. And... I don't think he's likely to hurt me now?"

A growl was all that Mobei-Jun responded with, teeth bared above the cage of fingers and claws. But instead of feeling scared for once, the author felt... protected? Mobei wasn't mad at him, or just near him. He was angry for him. Because someone dangerous had come close when he'd been out and exposed.

Devastated.

Sighing softly, he smoothed a hand over Mobei-Jun's chest, leaning his head against the other man. "I’m not going anywhere."

Mobei-Jun brought the side of his thumb to Shang Qinghua’s head, stroking the cultivator’s hair wordlessly. And while it made him blush bright red, the repeated motion slowly brought the tension down from broad shoulders.

It took a while of further coaxing to get his king to take them to their bedroom (and when did he start thinking of it as that?), the demon refusing to put Shang Qinghua down even as he stripped off his crown and outer layers one handed. Being taken through the layers of sleeves made the tiny cultivator snicker, holding onto Mobei’s fingers. Of course, being brought back to that chest once the last robe was off and he was down to only his pants just brought back his blush as he looked up at him.

"Are you going to be like this whenever a strong demon gets near me?" Shang Qinghua asked, not sure that he minded the idea. Mobei-Jun had always protected him from other demons. It hadn’t always been gentle protection, but it’d been protection.

"Qinghua needs protection," Mobei-Jun said at last, frowning down at him like he was offended at the idea of not going on guard for his little advisor.

Oh, be still my heart, the author thought helplessly. For someone not doing it on purpose, his king was doing far too good a job at seducing him!

"I’m not going to argue that, my king! Especially when there’s no one I’d rather have protect me in this whole world!" Shang Qinghua said, smiling up at him and trying not to feel shy. It wasn’t even a stretch of the truth either! Shen Qingqiu would give it a try, Binghe might if his husband asked him, at least a little, but they weren’t Mobei-Jun. His favorite creation. "It’s just that this lowly one shouldn’t bother you so much."

"Hmph."

The human wasn’t given time to say anything else before Mobei decided the conversation was over and that Shang Qinghua should get ready for bed too. And not with words or orders. He sat down on the bed, placing him in his lap and began to undress him himself.

It was fine when it was just Mobei-Jun taking down his hair with delicate care, coaxing it to lay down through careful use of his claws. The demon set aside the small pieces of jewelry on the small bedside table. His boots followed, pulled off and moved away. But Mobei-Jun didn’t stop there.

Shang Qinghua squeaked as his belts were undone, squirming in the other man’s grasp and trying to free himself. But Mobei was on a mission. Layer after layer, his robes were pulled from his shoulders as he was manhandled into position until only the innermost layer remained. Thankfully, his king left that one, Shang Qinghua clutching it close as claws caught on the legs of his pants to pull them from beneath.

"My king!" he squawked, his face burning despite the way he shivered. Sure, it was still more than he’d worn half the time in his original world, but he’d been in this one for even longer. And more to the point, he was still in the demon’s lap!

"It’s time for bed," Mobei-Jun said without any other excuse. He picked up the heating charm from the pile of belts, offering it back to his advisor.

"That doesn’t mean you had to undress me yourself!" Shang Qinghua huffed, quickly tying the charm into place and sighing as the chill went away. He turned to climb off Mobei’s lap (his lap!) when he was caught up again in the demon’s hand. "Hey!"

Mobei-Jun didn’t listen to him and just drew himself further onto the bed, laying back and placing the cultivator onto his chest instead of letting him move over to the pillow bed. A small flicker of energy put out the night pearls that lit the room, plunging them into darkness save the soft glow of his demon mark. Shang Qinghua squirmed under his hand, but the weight of it served the double purpose of acting like a blanket and keeping him in place as the demon closed his eyes. Right there, where he knew he’d be safe. "Sleep."

Sleep? How was he supposed to sleep like this?! Shang Qinghua tried to wiggle his way to freedom one more time before giving up with a huff. "You’re such a spoiled bully, my king!"

If Mobei-Jun’s smirk was hidden in the darkness, there was no one to tattle on him.

Chapter Text

The fact that they were back outside in the garden should have been Shang Qinghua’s biggest clue that he was dreaming. Along with the fact that he was on the ground, running away from a Tianlang-Jun four times his size as the former demon lord chased after him, ground shaking with his steps. He yelped as he tripped, crashing to the ground, and the heavenly demon bent to grab for him with sharp claws outstretched. Squeezing his eyes shut, Shang Qinghua waited for the inevitable pain.

It didn’t come. Instead, when he peeked his eyes open, it was to see Tianlang-Jun being grabbed from behind by a huge hand and flung away. Following the hand up, he saw an arm dressed in deep, midnight blue, a cloak lined with expensive furs draped over strong shoulders, and then a beautiful face housing eyes like chips of ice that were focused on him, and only him.

Mobei walked closer, casting the human in his huge shadow, and likewise bent to grab him. But Shang Qinghua didn’t want to run from this demon. He stumbled to his feet and ran into the reaching hand, holding it tightly as he was lifted up from the ground.

He was brought up to Mobei’s face, the demon’s fingers pushing away his clothes like they were held closed with cobwebs, and then there were lips against his skin. Lips that felt like they touched every bit of him at once, somehow both warm and cold at the same time as his dream couldn’t seem to settle on what it should feel like. Shang Qinghua gasped against them, squirming and wiggling as he tried to figure out where he wanted his king’s attention first.

It turned out he didn’t need to decide. Because his king was making that choice for him.

A cool blue tongue, long and ever so wonderfully pointed, slid out between his spreading legs, and Shang Qinghua arched up with a gasp. "My king!"

"Mine."

The growled word vibrated through his body, making his hair stand on end and his heart pound in his chest. And making his cock pulse against that wonderful, wonderful tongue.

The author ground up against the moving muscle, gasping and moaning without any thought of shame because Mobei was still looking at him like that. Like he was the sexiest thing in the universe.

"My king, my king, ah!"

His legs were pushed up near to his ears, ass drawn into the demon’s mouth, his king’s hair falling around him. Shang Qinghua grabbed tight to it, the stray worry that he was going to be swallowed whole rising up. But it didn’t linger for long, smashed from his mind with a single flex of his king’s tongue. No, not a flex. A thrust. A scream ripped itself from his throat as he was speared on that cold tongue, stretched and filled in a heartbeat as it just kept moving.

Below him, he could hear the wet sound of his king stroking himself, and he fought to twist just enough to watch through the large fingers holding him. His king’s cock was huge. Huge and beautiful, flushed a deep blue as one of those hands worked it over. Mobei’s groan from the feeling and from being watched vibrated through his whole body from the inside out and he couldn’t help but to whimper. Gods, he wanted that. Wanted it against him. Wanted it inside him. Logistics of size and anatomy didn’t matter. This was a fucking porn world!

When Mobei’s tongue twisted inside him and found that one spot, Shang Qinghua screamed, his vision flashing white. And all at once the fingers holding him pressed him down as his world changed angle, tongue vanishing from inside him as his inner robe returned.

He panted for breath, confused brain trying to figure out what was going on. Why had Mobei-

"Qinghua?"

Eyes snapping wide, Shang Qinghua felt the blood draining out of his face as he looked up at his king, Mobei’s face sleepy and concerned. As he put together what’d happened, all that blood ran right back up into his cheeks because oh my god. He’d been dreaming. He’d been having a fucking wet dream. While sleeping on his king’s chest.

"Are you well?" Mobei-Jun asked, voice softer than usual in the first moments of waking.

The tiny cultivator hid his face in his hands. "Kill me now, please."

Mobei's frown was audible. "This king will not harm Qinghua."

Shang Qinghua’s snicker might have been a little hysterical. Just a little. His king's response... Oh gods. He pushed at the giant hand caging him in close, getting enough room to draw his legs in. Because fuck if he wasn’t still hard from the dream. What kind of kinky shit had been floating in his subconscious?!

If fate wanted to be nice to him, maybe the System would just glitch and yeet him out of this world.

But of course fate was a little bitch who didn’t like him for some stupid reason and he remained right there on top of his dream man until Mobei decided that he’d hidden enough and slid those fingers around him to lift him up into view. Face burning, the author grabbed his single robe layer, holding it tightly closed and hoping, praying, that the demon wouldn’t be able to tell.

But the way blue eyes dilated made it painfully clear that Mobei had noticed something that he couldn't just hide so easily.

"Sorry, my king," he said, swallowing hard and looking anywhere else except his king’s eyes. "It- it was just a dream. Can… Can you put me down? Please?"

"A dream," Mobei said slowly, doubtful. But he dutifully did as asked, and set his advisor down as he leaned back into the pillows.

Back onto his chest. Where he could keep looking at him.

Not that the human stayed there. He briefly froze when bare feet landed on cold skin before ducking his head and running across the demon’s chest towards the edge of the bed. A fleshy wall caught him and tipped him back up as he tried to jump down.

"My king!" Shang Qinghua protested with a squeak. "What-"

"Qinghua is upset," Mobei-Jun said, still holding his hand in the way of his advisor’s escape. "Explain."

"I’m not upset; I’m embarrassed!" he argued, his face going redder by the moment. Was that even possible? Who knew! "So just let me get down!"

Mobei-Jun frowned but moved his hand, watching the tiny human hop down and all but dive for the other side of his usual pillow bed to hide behind it. Rising up onto one arm, he leaned over the pillow to peer down at Shang Qinghua in concern. "Qinghua?"

"Just… just give me a minute," Shang Qinghua said, voice tight as he waved him away with a hand, face pressed into the pillow. "Go get dressed or something."

Mobei continued to frown as he straightened up and slid from the bed. He didn’t like not knowing what was clearly troubling his human while they were in the safety of his bedchambers. "Very well." He paused for a moment. "Qinghua too. Tianlang-Jun expects this king for breakfast."

There was an aggravated groan from the pillow and a series of unfamiliar terms that he could only assume were curses from Shang Qinghua’s hometown. He never taught him the words, but the tone said plenty.

"This king will bring water to wash with," Mobei said after a moment of thought. The upset from the night before had prevented them from bathing, and he wanted their best odds for the former emperor to not immediately scent out the cultivator.

Leaving him behind while a powerful demon roamed the palace was not an option he liked.

"Cold, please."

Blinking, Mobei nodded before remembering that Shang Qinghua wouldn’t be able to see him from his hiding spot. "Mn."

A cold bath for Qinghua was easier to fetch than a hot one, as he was in the habit of keeping a pitcher of water in his rooms. It would not be as cold as if he formed and melted ice for it, but experience told him that ice water would be too cold for the fragile human.

Once he’d filled Qinghua’s bathing cup, he set it on the small side table with a shaving of his own preferred soap beside it and pushed it closer to the bed so the cultivator would have an easy time crossing to it.

"Call for this king once you’re ready," he said before slipping out of the bedroom to call for his own bath.

Shang Qinghua didn’t come out of hiding until he was sure that his king was out of the room, wishing that he could scream without him rushing back in a heartbeat. He gave a suspicious glance towards the door before dropping the inner robe he’d slept in and jumping into the ‘tub’ before he could second guess himself.

"Fuck, that’s cold," he gasped. Good news, it tamed his lingering hard-on almost immediately and provided a lovely distraction to all those things that he didn’t want to think about right then like the dream he had no business having or the weird way that Mobei was acting. Bad news, it was fucking cold!

The transmigrator scrubbed as quickly as he could, rinsing his hair out and getting a little bit more ink off his hands. He barely used the soap his king had left him, too much in a hurry to get back out before he got hypothermia or something on top of all the shit he was dealing with. The moment he thought he was clean enough, and soft enough, he was back out and grabbing for whatever was on hand to dry with.

"Okay, plan," he muttered under his breath, pulling on a new set of robes. "We never think about the dream again. Yeah, that sounds good. Just forget it ever happened. Don’t remember it, won’t dream it again. I’d rather dream other things anyway. Like dream about drinking coffee. Or going to the beach. Good, safe dreams. Mhm."

Since his hair was still wet and no one except his king was going to see him, Shang Qinghua squeezed it out before throwing the whole mess into a braid before deciding it was good enough. Except for the warming and tracking charms, he didn’t need any jewelry after all.

Now all he had to do was call for his king and they’d be off to deal with his son’s other dad.

Just… call for his king and get picked up in those big hands again. The ones that’d scooped him up so easily in his dream last night and…

Nope! Not going there!

To buy himself a few extra minutes, Shang Qinghua decided he wouldn't just call for his king. Sure, he’d have to go see him, but walking would give him just a little bit longer before he had to see him and deal with… everything.

So the human took his time climbing down from the bed and walking across the room once more. This time, there were no unexpected voices or the shuffling of paperwork, so his assistant hadn’t been brought back. Not that he’d expected him to, but it might still have been nice? Mobei could leave him there with his minion and they could continue on the paperwork backlog while his king went and played nice with Tianlang-Jun.

With a sigh over the possibility missed, he walked through the cracked open door without considering something rather important.

In his eagerness to be done with the cold water, Shang Qinghua had rushed through his bath, skipped drying his hair, and barely put in any time for dressing. It’d barely taken any time at all.

There had been no guarantees that his king had made any similar effort to hurry.

He was already fully in the other room when the sound of sloshing ice caught his attention, and his brain didn’t catch up to what that meant until it was more than too late.

It wasn’t the first time that Shang Qinghua had seen his king bathe. Hell, he’d seen him strip within days of meeting him, demons having a very different idea of modesty than cultivators. But they’d just been teenagers then, he’d been terrified, and he hadn’t been this small. And watching his giant of a king rise from his bath, icy water running down his skin in streams and droplets that immediately made him wish to be liquid, was so very different from an accidental glance in an inn.

His breathless gasp drew the demon’s attention as Mobei stepped out from the bath, and he turned around to face him. Despite Mobei’s hair falling around his shoulders and sticking to his skin, it covered absolutely nothing. Not his well-muscled arms, that sculpted chest, or the pillar that hung between two perfect legs. And at many times the size, Shang Qinghua had the brief thought that this must be like having your favorite porno played on the big screen.

He swallowed heavily as Mobei finished stepping out from the tub, unbothered by his nudity once he’d established where the human was. It wasn’t until his king wrapped a robe around his body that Shang Qinghua could almost breathe normally again. Almost, because the robe clung to every detail of that beautiful body he’d crafted with his own two hands.

"S-sorry, my king. I didn’t realize that you were still bathing," Shang Qinghua said, tripping over his words. The image of the man of his dreams naked and dripping permanently seared into his mind. Oh, this wasn’t going to be easy. "Um… I’ll just go back to the bedroom while you get dressed. Give you some privacy." Consider drowning himself in his dirty bath water. "So… yeah."

"Stay," Mobei-Jun said before the cultivator could flee. "This king does not need privacy from his most trusted."

"Oh. Okay," he said with a squeak, sitting on the floor. Because he didn’t want to stand anymore, not because his legs had turned to jelly on him or anything. Unless that was an extra curse someone had placed on him? Maybe they should look into that.

It was impossible to look away as Mobei-Jun took his time to dry himself and dress, that flash of skin making a reappearance when Mobei deemed himself dry enough to replace the casual robe with a proper set. When his king went for his combs, the urge to touch overrode the cultivator’s brain and he jumped to his feet and blurted out, "My king, let me help you with your hair."

Of course, as soon as the words left his mouth he realized how stupid they were. How was he supposed to help Mobei-Jun with anything physical when he was barely big enough to drag one of those combs across the demon’s vanity table? Much less bring it through the length of those inky black tresses! He made to sit down again, ducking his head with embarrassment over the foolishness of the idea before he realized that his king had turned to walk across the room to him.

"Ah, sorry, I guess I didn’t think that one through. Of course I can just stay here out of the way while you finish up," he said quickly, cheeks warm.

"There are things Qinghua may help with," Mobei-Jun said. He knelt down (just to reach him, of course!) and held his hand out for Shang Qinghua to climb up onto. "This Mobei welcomes his aid."

"Oh. Well, of course! Anything my king wants!" Shang Qinghua scrambled into the offered hand, holding on as he was moved from the floor over to his king’s vanity. Mobei took a seat once his hands were free once again, picking up his comb to start removing the tangles from his hair. "What can I help my king with?"

"The box," his king said, indicating a small jewelry box sitting not far from where the cultivator had been put.

Curious, he bent to hoist the lid open so he could peek inside. The box was filled with dozens of silver and sapphire beads, clearly sized to be woven into hair. He’d seen his king with the silver ones on occasion, but the gemstone ones made him curious, and he reached in to pull one out and hold it to the light.

"I’ve never seen you wear these ones, my king," Shang Qinghua said curiously, glancing up at the demon. Just in time to see Mobei’s eyes land on the small sapphire and hear his breath catch. "My king?"

Mobei took in a slow breath before he responded, reaching down to gently take the bead from his advisor’s hands and look at it in the light.

"Those," Mobei said carefully before putting the bead back into the box, "Are betrothal beads. One only wears them once they have been accepted by a mate. This king has not yet been. The silver are fine."

"Oh…" Shang Qinghua chewed on his cheek as he pondered that, not quite sure why his chest clenched at the idea of Mobei-Jun with a mate. "You keep them at hand… are you hoping to get married soon? Or is it a king thing, needing to find a queen to give you heirs?"

Mobei-Jun shook his head after a moment, fingers quickly weaving small braids into his hair. "Qinghua should think nothing of it. A silver one, please."

"Ah, right!" He put his focus to the task at hand, pulling out one of the silver beads to shine up with his sleeve before holding it up. A job that Mobei surely didn’t need help doing, but had accepted Shang Qinghua’s help with nonetheless. But as the light caught the delicate cuts of the metal, he was struck with familiarity. "My king… the guan you gifted me. Is it one of your hair beads?"

"Mn."

Shang Qinghua smiled as he handed it over. Even if it was just one of many of the things, he liked the idea of matching his king. "I see. I guess that explains how it was made so fast! And why I got something so pretty!"

Mobei-Jun nodded, sliding the bead into place before continuing to braid. More were added the same way, one at a time. The author couldn’t help but to love the effect, like stars bobbing in a black sea. When there was one silver bead left, Mobei set it aside when it was offered up, motioning to his advisor. "For Qinghua. Undo your braid."

"Eh? But no one’s going to see me," Shang Qinghua said, confused as he nevertheless followed his king’s order. Taking a good guess at what the looks he received as he shook out the hair that’d mostly dried by now, he tried pulling it up into his usual bun, but was given a frown to indicate that that wasn’t right. "Um, maybe just half of it?"

His king considered and nodded, waiting until the smaller bun was in place before picking up the bead once more to slide into place, once more acting as a guan. They lacked the hair stick he’d been given, Shang Qinghua on the edge of suggesting he go grab it before Mobei merely presented him with a new one. Made of ice.

"My king? Won’t it just melt?" he asked, holding it carefully. Glad that Mobei hadn’t decided to just make him a full crown of ice because that’d have been too cold on his head.

"It will not," Mobei said. He watched the human until the stick was slid into place. "It will remain solid until this king wishes otherwise."

"Oh! Like the staircase," he said, glancing past Mobei-Jun at the very Disney-esque step of ice stairs leading up to the currently unused desk. He supposed that made sense. There were many things in the palace made of ice, including ones in areas near heat sources, few as they were. They’d shown no signs of melting at all. "That’s very impressive, my king!"

Mobei-Jun nodded, satisfied with the praise and with the modification of his advisor’s appearance. He would have preferred that Shang Qinghua wear more jewels as he deserved, but understood that that would have to wait. For one, making him glitter now served counter to his mission of keeping him secret.

Pity.

As was the fact that lingering in their chambers for too much longer when they had someone to meet over breakfast would be seen as a slight. And while even before his fall, Tianlang-Jun typically hadn’t cared about court manners or minor rudenesses, what he did believe in was being contrary when it pleased him. And if the heavenly demon decided he was bored, he might decide he wanted to claim offense as an excuse for a fight. Normally, not an issue for Mobei-Jun, particularly considering Tianlang-Jun’s weakened state and his own empowered one, but he couldn’t ignore the vulnerability of his central weakness.

Shang Qinghua.

So with a sigh to himself, he once more offered his hand to the tiny human. "It is time to go."

"You’re sure that I can’t just stay here?" the author asked even as he climbed into his hand again.

"It would not be safe." Mobei brought him up to his shoulder before bringing his cloak around them both. The fur collar would do better in hiding Shang Qinghua than his hair had on its own. It was inappropriate for daily court, but for a meeting with a former emperor? The formality matched. "This king will protect you."

It was hard not to just snuggle into that collar and go back to sleep, honestly. Or, it would have been if Shang Qinghua weren't ready to be a little ball of nerves and anxiety. He remembered his last run-in with the old man. It hadn't been fun! And yes, he understood that he'd chilled out after finishing his big tantrum and resolving a lot of trauma and all that fun stuff, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to be twitchy!

Sandwiched between the collar of the cloak and his king's neck, he patted the latter. "Okay. I trust my king."

For all that they had to get going, Mobei-Jun still made a point of taking his time to walk to the family dining room that the servants had set the meal up in instead of speeding things along by stepping through the shadows. Allow Tianlang-Jun to wait just a bit after being informed that Mobei-Jun was on his way. This was, after all, Mobei's palace. And the other demon lord had come without announcement or invitation. He was a guest, yes, but not a particularly welcomed one.

Still, while the servants had not brought the food out until moments before their lord's arrival, the heavenly demon had already made himself comfortable with a cup of tea, the steam wafting off of it out of place in the ice palace.

"Young Mobei, there you are," he said, rising when the ice demon arrived with his hidden passenger, but not waiting for him to sit before reclaiming his seat. "I had started to wonder if you'd decided not to come after all. No insult meant, of course. I've heard nothing to say that your manners are less than impeccable for a young demon lord. But I know that I'm not often the most welcome of company. Though surely a properly raised prince must know how to be a better host than that son of mine. At least you're willing to have me fed."

The raise of Mobei-Jun's eyebrow suggested that 'willing' was a strong word to use in the situation, but verbally he allowed it to pass as he was served a cup of tea as well. Properly cooled, in his case. "His lordship suggested he had something to give this king."

"Oh, that's right. Well, I'm afraid that I left it behind in my rooms, so you'll have to forgive me," Tianlang-Jun said with a self-indulgent laugh. "I'll be sure to give it to you before I go. You have my word. But enough of business! I was told your little human was back in the north. But when I looked around last night, he was nowhere to be found! Don't tell me you've spirited him away back to his sect. I had hoped to have a chat with him."

"Qinghua is unavailable for now," Mobei-Jun said, holding down the instinct to bring his hand up and touch the hidden human to be sure he was still there. It would betray his location to the other demon. "This king will pass on the message if he wants to give you audience."

Read: You're never getting near him.

But the older demon's eyes sparkled. "Qinghua, is it? You have become quite close to your little servant, haven't you?"

Mobei glowered across the table at him, a hot coal against his neck as Shang Qinghua huddled down even more to stay out of sight. "He is no longer this king's servant, but his advisor. We work well together."

"Ah yes, I'm very certain you do," Tianlang-Jun said, his voice light and teasing. "Still, strange for an advisor to be away from court. I've also heard that no one in the palace has seen him. Not that you haven't picked up in his place. Did you know that some of your lords whisper that the lord advisor can pull their secrets right out of the air? Plans never written down, exposed. Secret meetings, spied upon. Such a useful man to keep around. How did you two meet, by the way? I know how my wayward son met his cultivator, but I'm fairly certain you weren't raised in a sect by yours."

"We met as youths," Mobei said stiffly. He couldn't deny any of the things that the other demon said. He'd always just accepted that Shang Qinghua knew things that no one had any business knowing, and that he'd use that knowledge to Mobei's advantage. And accepted that perhaps it was better now to question what sources he had for all of his secrets. Spies? Scouring? He didn't know. He didn't ask. And feeling the small form stiffening against him, he was more confident in his choice about doing so. "He swore himself to this king, and I accepted. He has been loyal since."

They both knew that wasn't entirely true, but just like he didn't ask Qinghua about his secrets, he knew that there were a few times that his advisor (friend? Future queen?) could not act in his favor. Or whatever reasons. Yet he always came back, so Mobei would always forgive him.

"Ah, the value of the truly loyal," Tianlang-Jun said with a longing sigh. "You will have to forgive this old man for nostalgic envy of your position. Though I will spare you from my bemoaning betrayal by flesh and blood, considering your family's history. It seems like it'd be too crass to do so. How is that uncle of yours, by the way?"

Mobei-Jun scoffed. "Healing. Unfortunately."

"Oh? I suppose he must have made an attempt when your old man died? I can't say I'm surprised. But that was months ago. I would have thought he'd be mended by now."

The ice demon's growl and Shang Qinghua shiver in his hiding place, and not from fear. "He attacked Qinghua."

"Did he now? Well, I suppose that explains everything," Tianlang-Jun said, a dangerous kind of amusement in his voice. "I'm surprised you didn't just kill him, then." A second growl from his host made him laugh. "Ah, I suppose family just gets messy like that, doesn't it? Well, I'm sure he'll remember your lesson the next time he thinks about trying to murder a member of the family. Too bad though. He was always a lot less boring than his brother, as long as you could keep him off the subject. On it, and he was just a bitter little brat again, and well, I have my son if I want to entertain that sort of personality."

Mobei-Jun sat and stewed in silence while Tianlang-Jun entertained himself rambling on. The apparent need to fill the silence with noise was a trait that he and Shang Qinghua shared, but where it was annoying from the demon, it was endearing from his human.

That silence returned briefly while the former emperor busied his mouth chewing on a piece of fruit. One that wasn't normally served raw because cooking was needed to neutralize the mild poison, but was known to be sweater that way. Particularly because it was one that heavenly demons and those with similar resistances to poisons ate like loquats. It gave Mobei the chance to palm one or two of the smaller fruits to tuck away. Ones that were safe for human consumption.

"I think I'll stick around for a few days now that I've made the trip. If that's not too inconvenient for my host, of course," Tianlang-Jun said after swallowing the last piece. Of course, despite his polite phrasing, it was obvious to both of them that Mobei-Jun had little say in the matter. "I'll even do you a favor and sit in on some of your court sessions. Maybe this old man's presence will make some of those stuffed lords behave, and I could give you some tips."

Mobei-Jun did the polite thing and didn't mention how rarely the other lord had actually bothered to attend and manage his own court before his downfall, typically too busy skipping between the realms playing human and flirting with actors. If the snake demon hadn't been always following in his uncle's shadow, he would have made a more reliable Emperor. Not that he would have dared.

"Ah, but look at me rambling on," the heavenly demon laughed. "I haven't heard of anyone announced as a possible consort for you yet. Tell me, has anyone caught the new king's eye? I'm sure I could put in a good word to their father for you."

"There is no need," Mobei-Jun said, his jaw growing stiff. He deliberately put his cup down before standing. "You will have to excuse this king. I have work to do."

Tianlang-Jun waved him off cheerfully. "Of course, of course, all work and no play with you. Youth these days, ah." He watched the Northern king turn and stride towards the door, just ever so slightly raising his nose to the air. Interesting. "I'll have the message for you later. If I see your... advisor, I'll leave it with him."

Mobei-Jun just kept walking like this entire spine hadn't gone stiff at the thought of the other demon finding Shang Qinghua in his current state, no matter his apparent lack of present hostility. The temptation to immediately take his human back to their chambers and hide him away there rose up, but he could not simply avoid his duties to guard him there. Even though he wanted to.

The feeling of a small hand stroking the side of his throat eased his nerves just enough. Qinghua was, at present, safe and protected as long as he was at his side. Meaning he would remain at his side until the effects of the tainted medication wore off or a cure was found.

"Thank you," he said softly once they'd entered an empty hallway. Mobei-Jun brought one of the fruits up to offer his hidden human since Qinghua could hardly have eaten during the meal. Feeding his 'cloak' would have been too suspicious. As an afterthought, he realized that also meant Qinghua hadn't had his tea. "How does Qinghua feel?"

"Huh?" The voice by his ear startled at the question, and he could feel the movement as his advisor fumbled with the fruit a moment. "Oh, um, fine? Little twitchy because holy crap he still manages to be scary, but still fine?"

"And your energy levels?" Mobei-Jun pushed. The healer had instructed the tea's use until they were back to 'normal.' But could a body that size actually hold the amount of qi his human normally had? Qinghua's cultivation was not strong, but neither was it pitiful.

"I think they're fine?" Shang Qinghua said, flustered at the attention. "I haven't really been paying much attention to them, honestly. But I don't feel like I'm too drained or anything."

Mobei-Jun nodded his head. He didn't know all that much about human cultivation despite his long association with Shang Qinghua. Which, perhaps, was a failing of his. So he would have to trust his advisor's words on it unless he was informed otherwise. The next time he interacted with Consort Shen or their healer, he would inquire.

"Good. Inform this king if that changes. Immediately."

The little body tucked into his cloak squirmed, but Mobei knew his instructions had been received. He also suspected that he would have to keep a close eye on Qinghua regardless.

Unfortunately, Tianlang-Jun kept to his suggestion of appearing in court, arriving late and drawing eyes as he sauntered into the room and up towards the throne. The former emperor made a show of bowing to the Northern king before taking a seat at the empty desk of the lord advisor.

Mobei-Jun bristled at the sight but could do little at the moment except glare at the back of his impertinent head. That seat was not just for whoever showed up!

"Easy, little king," Tianlang-Jun murmured out of the side of his mouth, leaning back towards him. The seat was lower than the throne, but placed close enough for whispers. Intentionally so. "This lord is merely keeping the seat warm." Eyes flicking up to see the young king from below, they widened a fraction before he smiled and straightened up.

Eyes narrowing, Mobei-Jun kept a close eye on the older demon. He was up to something. And the closeness of his stolen seat was too much to risk murmuring to Shang Qinghua and asking for his input. Though feeling the stiffness of the small body was enough to tell him that his human was nervous.

"Your Majesty- Majesties, there is the matter of an heir that should be addressed," one of the lords said. Mobei could barely be bothered to pay attention to which one. "As my lord lacks surviving siblings to appoint, has he given thought to marriage? It needs not to be addressed immediately of course, a rushed choice is rarely wise, but a choice does need to be made eventually. Some of us have drawn up a list of young demonesses who we believe would make suitable candidates."

"This king does not care for your list," Mobei-Jun said stiffly. "He is capable of choosing and courting his own mate."

"O-oh of course! We only meant to introduce you to some who his majesty might not have seen in these courts, that is all!" the lord rushed to correct.

"Daughters and nieces of you and your fellows, I assume?" Tianlang-Jun interjected, raising an eyebrow. He took the lack of response as confirmation. "Your king is still plenty young, Lord.... whoever you are. Don't pester him. But give any petitions to me. I'll be sure the Lord Advisor gets them to look over all proper-like."

That brought the group of lords up with surprise as he looked between Tianlang-Jun and their king on his throne. When neither denied the implication... "His Majesty... has retrieved his human advisor?"

"This king has," Mobei said. "Shang Qinghua will return to these courts soon, in service to his king." Had returned already, but once he was cured, he could do so much more directly, no longer needing to be in hiding. And perhaps then, Mobei might be able to elevate him further than the simple position of advisor. But for now, he frowned with annoyance, ignoring Tianlang-Jun's suggestion for anything to go through him in order to nod towards Qinghua's assistant who was quietly taking notes about what was said instead. "Deliver messages for him to his assistant. They will be delivered."

The assistant jumped at finding himself a point of attention without warning, ducking his head before deliberately bowing in his seated position. "This servant will endeavor to see it done. Thanking my lords."

"He is well then, Advisor Shang?" another lord asked. There was an odd sort of conflicted relief on his face that suggested that yes, he was very glad to know that the mousy human was returning, but not happy about being glad. "Will he be returning to his duties soon?"

"Oh, I'm sure the little human is already working away in the background, don't you worry," Tianlang-Jun said with only a little bit of mocking in his voice. "I may have only met him briefly, but he does seem to be the sort to work from his sickbed. Is my impression accurate, Mobei-Jun?"

Mobei-Jun would have immediately given his advisor a side-eye if the man had been in his field of vision. And from the squirming and the quickly muffled laugh of self-depreciation, Shang Qinghua knew it too. "Very accurate."

The former emperor threw his head back to laugh. "Haha! Just like my dear nephew! It's too bad he couldn't have come or I'd have thrown his name in for a candidate, but he would never have been comfortable here. Too cold, you see. Though I bet your human must get cold too, unless you're keeping him warm somehow."

Distracted by the display the former emperor was making of their king, who'd begun to growl, no one noticed when a minor lord with the pinnings of a General slipped out of the room, his voice stormy.

Wu Yuanzhi had discounted the small human when he'd first started to show up in the palace, always trailing behind the prince of the North, squirming and cowardly. At most, a weakness to exploit considering that their now Mobei-Jun seemed attached to him. (Very attached.) But someone with his fallen heritage didn't hold the position of General because he ignored rising threats.

And Shang Qinghua was a threat. Sharp eyed, soft spoken, and somehow capable of finding out secrets that no one should have been able to discover, especially not some human cultivator who wasn't even at the palace full time. But he would have been a fool not to understand where their new king had gotten his advantage from. The human might not have the title officially (yet, a nasty voice said in his mind), but he was undoubtedly Kingmaker to their monarch.

A position of prestige and honor in the Northern Desert.

Linguang-Jun would never have allowed a human to hold such a title, even if he'd made use of one at all. And they would have been slain as soon as they did their duty to wipe the evidence of it. But then again, where was Linguang-Jun now? Licking his wounds in his private palace, without decoration or honors. Wu Yuanzhi would not damage his chances by continuing to try and raise him to power. If his plans resulted in that, so be it, but he would not be following any orders.

Especially since it seemed he longer had the time to wait for them. If Shang Qinghua was returned to active court life, the opportunities to work in the shadows would be severely cut short. If he noticed Wu Yuanzhi's workings, he would inform his lord. And Mobei-Jun trusted the little rat, so there would be no convincing him otherwise. And unfortunately, he didn't have whatever protection the old king's brother had against execution.

Particularly if what he suspected became true. Even if the human didn't sniff him out immediately, disposing of him could become so much more dangerous. Killing a favored servant might get him executed, yes, but killing a queen would result in so much worse a punishment. And no one would risk supporting him. Not even Linguang-Jun.

But if the human was in the palace, he could be found. And if he was found, then he could be used to take down their weak and shameful king. Bending and serving a half-breed who'd married a human cultivator. If rumors were true, the son of the very demon currently visiting Mobei-Jun. Which was another dangerous element he'd have to act quickly to work around. Tianlang-Jun was known for his vulgar interest in humans and their excuse for a culture. A potential ally for their king. A dangerous ally.

The wolf demons had managed to draw Mobei-Jun out of the palace to aid the bastard halfling like Wu Yuanzhi had known they would, but the timing made him wonder if they'd accidentally aided in reuniting the missing advisor with his liege. He should never had used them.

Still, there was time to re-direct. Not much, but there was time. And then the little brat king would fall.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua never thought he'd be so glad to see Tianlang-Jun go attach himself to someone's arm as he was, the former Emperor chattering away at the poor goat demon's ear as he dragged him off someplace for lunch. It meant that he wasn't trying to follow them out of the room when court concluded for the afternoon. Sure, he'd acted mostly in his king's interests when he'd decided to speak up here and there, but he couldn't shake the idea that he knew something. Which? Was pretty damn scary!

"My king, can we move my desk further away before tomorrow?" he asked as soon as it was safe to speak without some demon (particularly one sharp-eared heavenly demon dad!) hearing him. "Maybe to someplace, you know, far away from the throne? We can put it back when I'm there to use it."

"He should not be sitting there," Mobei-Jun grumbled, heading towards the royal chambers with determination. When they did cross paths with anyone, they quickly got out of the way.

"I know, but you can't exactly shoo Tianlang-Jun out of a chair like a misbehaving cat," Shang Qinghua said with a sigh. He huffed, thinking. "My king?"

"Hm?"

"Do you think... Do you think I could work in my office today after lunch?" the author asked. "It's just that I never know what I'll need to access to check on things, so predicting everything that'd need to be brought to your rooms is kind of impractical. We can kick everyone but Hu Wenshi out because even I don't think being around all of them would be a good idea. Too dangerous, and that's even discounting how busy it can get and how easy it'd be for something to get dropped on me. Though that might not do anything considering what happened earlier, but anyway! I think I'd be more productive that way, so I can get more done in less time!"

Mobei turned his head towards him as he considered. He didn't like the idea of Qinghua lingering too long away from the security of his chambers, but... "This king will remain with you."

"Huh? But don't you have your own work to do, my king? What about the treaties? You said you'd go over them and-"

"They can be reviewed in Qinghua's office," Mobei-Jun said, interrupting him. "And Qinghua will not attempt to work through or past dinner."

Shang Qinghua pouted with a sigh, recognizing that tone. Mobei's final offer in the negotiation. "Yes, my king. Thank you."

Still! It was a big enough win and, while he silently apologized to his assistant who would have to spend another stretch of time with his king staring at him, they'd be able to chew through so much more of the backlog with everything needed right on hand.

"After lunch," Mobei-Jun amended, not changing his path towards their rooms. "Qinghua did not get his morning teas."

"Of course! That is very wise of you, my king," he praised. He'd admit, his king had gotten far too good at making that little glow in his chest pop up. Their fight... had done them well. Not that he wanted to repeat it. Ever. Because for one thing he'd been in pain, and for another he didn't actually like seeing his king like that. Not just angry with him (never a good thing), but also... desperate. It didn't look right. "After that court session, I think I'd like a bit to wind down too!"

Mobei-Jun nodded and continued to carry him the rest of the way, once more freezing the door shut once they were inside his personal chambers. Leaning out to look, Shang Qinghua raised an eyebrow at his king.

"Was the food already delivered?" he asked. The author hadn't seen Mobei order anyone to bring food there, and it would have been pretty hard to miss considering he'd been riding on his shoulder all day. And he knew damn well that Mobei hadn't left the bedroom before he'd woken up.

"No." Bringing a hand up, Mobei lifted the other man down from his shoulder to the desk. "This king will fetch it while you wait here. No one will be able to get inside."

"Oh! Well, I'll be right here. It isn't as though I would get very far on these legs if I wanted to," Shang Qinghua said with a half laugh. The idea of Mobei-Jun going and bringing them food like... well, not like a waiter because he assumed that he was bringing some for himself as well. So maybe more like a friend? He liked that idea, and smiled up at the demon. "Don't take too long, okay?"

His king nodded his head, removing his cloak before opening a portal to slip through. Shang Qinghua almost felt bad for the kitchen staff who'd obviously get the fright of their lives having their king suddenly appear in their work area like that and demand food. It was one thing for HIM to slip down there and make requests. First, they were probably already used to that because he'd done it before (usually bringing bribes to get the demon aunties down there to like him). Second, Mobei was a lot scarier than he could ever be.

Without anything to do while his king was away, he paced around the surface of the desk. Yes, he could have gotten down. The ice stairs were still there. But Mobei likely wasn't going to be gone for long and he didn't want to make him worry because he came back and Shang Qinghua was out of view. So he stayed put and just walked around. He wasn't exactly getting his usual amount of exercise, small as it was, and his king certainly had him eating better than he usually did too! Shang Qinghua already had a little more squish than your typical cultivator, and he didn't want to add more. Cucumber would give him shit for it, he'd be heavier on his sword (once he got a new one), and somehow he had a suspicion that Liu Qingge would take it as an excuse to chase him around the mountain next time he went back to the sect.

Not that the War God ever needed an excuse.

Of course, right now just chasing him around the room would probably get him sweating. He was lucky that he already had such good cardio. When it came to running away, he was the grand champion!

When Mobei-Jun returned, appearing behind him, it'd been longer than Shang Qinghua'd expected, and he turned around to ask him about it before pausing. Mobei always tended to favor dark robes. And those robes... had apparently decided to favor flour.

"My king, what happened to you?" he asked, trying not to laugh at the sight as Mobei approached and put a steaming bowl down on the desk. The scent of cooked bird wafted from it and he had to sigh happily. "Did you startle the cooks while they were baking?"

"No," Mobei-Jun said with a small pout. He poked his side, nudging him towards the desk and chair set up. "Sit. This king will serve you."

"You don’t have to do that, my king!" Shang Qinghua protested weakly, able to picture those words in a very, very different context. His king was too good at torturing him, even by accident! He scrambled to his feet to help. "You should let me-"

"Sit," Mobei-Jun ordered firmly. He stared his advisor down until the author had retaken his seat.

A small dish was placed in front of him, and a serving of finely cut noodles in broth were dished out into it. They weren’t cut particularly well, and had obviously been chopped down from a larger noodle, but it smelled amazing and Shang Qinghua found his mouth watering.

"Did you make this, my king?" he asked, looking up at him.

Mobei-Jun looked to the side, tips of his ears darkening. "They are not pulled noodles. There was not time."

"My king! Anything you make for me will be the best thing ever, so I’m not complaining!" Beaming, he grabbed his chopsticks to start shoving noodles into his mouth with a happy groan, wiggling in his seat. "These are really good! You should eat some too!"

"Soon," Mobei said. He waited until Shang Qinghua’s bowl was nearly empty to refill it before he cooled the rest of the bowl to a more tolerable temperature for himself. He’d tasted it while cooking, but it’d been too hot to get a good measure then. But cold, he found the taste tolerable, even if he wasn’t entirely satisfied with the result. "More practice will be needed."

Devouring the second bowl just as eagerly as the first, the author could have purred if he had the throat for it. "Well, take it from someone who’s eaten a lot of noodles in his life. You’re off to a great start, my king. Did you have the aunties in the kitchen show you how?"

From the look on Mobei’s face, he hadn’t even considered that idea when it came to looking for teachers.

"Okay, I’ll take that as a no. Then who- you didn’t ask Junshang to show you how to make quick noodles, did you?" Shang Qinghua asked, his eyes going wide as it clicked. Who else would his king ask, if not a member of his own staff? It wasn’t like he had any relatives who he was actually close enough to!

"Junshang is skilled in cooking. This king is not," Mobei said without strictly confirming it or denying it. Which was just about as good as a letter of certification. "…This king knocked first, this time."

A little part of him immediately melted. His son and his favorite were bonding, aww~. He put his bowl down and hopped up from his seat to walk around and hug the demon’s wrist where Mobei held his bowl, arms wrapping around it.

"Thank you, my king," he said, squeezing as tight as he could. "But in the future, you can just ask me to teach you how and I’d be happy to show you too."

"Qinghua knows how to cook?" Mobei-Jun asked. The faintly startled expression on his face made the author pout. Okay, so maybe he’d never cooked around his king, or frankly at all in the last couple years except roasting a bit of game on the run, but that was because he just hadn’t had the time!

He’d given Binghe cooking as a seduction trick/love language for a reason.

"Yes, my king, I know how to cook," he said with a huff. He let go of Mobei’s wrist, giving it a light swat. "And I’m actually pretty decent at it, if I say so myself. So how about it? Cooking lessons later? I can show you how to make all kinds of things."

After a moment, Mobei slowly nodded his head. "This king thanks Qinghua."

Shang Qinghua waved it off, grinning. "Eh, you don’t need to thank me. Especially since I’ll be getting to sample everything you make."

"Mn."

"So, I’m well fed now. Time to get to work?" the author asked, stretching his fingers in preparation.

"Medicine," Mobei said, shaking his head as he set the boxes on the desk.

Of course, the medicine. "My king, I feel fine. So I’m pretty sure I don’t need that anymore, and I’m not feeling stressed right now so I can take the calming tea later too," Shang Qinghua argued with a huff. But Mobei didn’t move. "Fine, I‘ll drink it. But can I do that in my office? I really want to get started."

Eyeballing him, Mobei considered the request before picking up the medicine boxes and offering his hand to his advisor again, giving in to the compromise. Qinghua would still take his medicine, and be allowed to start working. As soon as the small cultivator was tucked out of sight, the demon shadow stepped directly into his human’s office, startling no few number of clerks and assistants.

There was a discord of scared and respectful greetings as they all but dove for the floor to bow that he ignored as he visually swept the room. Good, the one he was looking for was present.

"You," he said, stepping in front of the kowtowing assistant. "Stay. The rest of you, get out."

They got. Urgently and frantically, running into each other in their haste to get away from whatever fate they imagined Hu Wenshi was going to suffer in the immediate future. Some sent sympathetic looks the demon's way, some sent nervous ones towards Mobei or the scrolls and papers all over the office. Worried about what might get on them if their lord murdered the fox demon where he kneeled in the middle of the office. Hopefully there wouldn't be too much splatter.

With so much hustle and panic, Shang Qinghua figured that no one would be looking anywhere near him, and peaked out from his hiding spot atop Mobei's shoulder, sympathetic of the stress on familiar faces.

Well, mostly familiar faces. He frowned at the few faces he knew weren't among his personal picks for the office staff. Had his little flock of minions brought in a few extras on their own while he'd been gone? He'd have to vet them soon, make sure they were properly qualified and not going to start selling state secrets to buy a shiny bobble. But soon they ducked out like the rest, leaving just the three of them in the room, door slamming shut.

"Get up," Mobei said flatly. "Qinghua wished to work in here today."

Standing shakily, the fox demon bowed again. "O-Oh! Of course, your majesty! Where is- ah!"

Once again standing on his king's hand (which would never stop being a little strange), Shang Qinghua gave his assistant a wave. "I'm here! We both thought that it wouldn't be safe to work if everyone was running around as usual."

"Very wise, yes. That would be dangerous for someone small like my lord advisor," Hu Wenshi said with a hasty nod. He moved back away from his boss's usual desk before scurrying to the other side to move things before Mobei-Jun could sweep them to the floor in order to have a spot to put the cultivator down. "Will we be continuing where we left with the treaties?"

"Nope. My king has agreed to finish those for me," Shang Qinghua said, waving a hand back towards the ice demon. Paying more attention to the state of the office, he missed the way his assistant glanced at him for once again using such a familiar and possessive phrase for the newly crowned king. He'd heard it before of course, but that was when Mobei-Jun had been, technically, still Mobei-Wang. Prince, not king. "We're starting on internal finances. Particularly those of the Northern army."

"Was there something wrong with them?" the assistant asked nervously as he fetched the most recent of the documents. But it wasn't the hiding secrets kind of nervous, just the 'Mobei-Jun is looming and looks like he might like me for an evening snack or as a piece of impressionistic artwork splattered up against the wall' kind of nervous.

"Something's definitely fishy," Shang Qinghua said. He glanced up at his king, frowning. "You don't have to stand, my king. Put my cushion at any of the desks. You have treaties to go through. And stop giving my assistant the evil eye."

Mobei-Jun huffed, called out on it but refusing to say anything as he drifted around to steal the aforementioned cushion in order to make himself comfortable. As soon as he'd chosen a desk, Hu Wenshi hurried to bring the stack of treaties over to it before swiftly moving away out of immediate swiping range. Not that a few feet would save him if the king decided he should die of course. He'd be speared to the wall or frozen solid and shattered in a heartbeat.

Mobei-Jun hadn't risen to the throne merely because he'd been his father's son, after all.

But Mobei wouldn't be taking any such action unless it was to protect his human. While they'd never put it into words, this office, where most of the administration of his kingdom flowed through, was Qinghua's domain. And he would, to a point, respect the smaller man's territory claim. Just as he did not interfere with much on An Ding outside Shang Qinghua's own Leisure House.

He did, however, snag the man's assistant to fetch hot water for the teas. His advisor's part of the deal was that he'd drink them there. And Mobei-Jun would be inflexible in that territory. Only once they were brewed and he'd seen Qinghua down the more medicinal of the pair did Mobei actually put his attention to what he'd promised.

The treaties were tedious but not challenging to work through. Most parties were open to beginning things on the same terms, with the possibility of renegotiation on a mutually determined later date. He did have to resist the urge to toss one or two into the grated fireplace that kept the office uncomfortably warm for the ice demon, including one that suggested a bridal alliance for him, and one that suggested marrying their offspring to his advisor. He would give them credit to see Qinghua's worth, and not be so arrogant to think that they deserved the throne. But thinking them suitable for his human was arrogance enough and he would not stand for it.

"No destroying the paperwork," Shang Qinghua called across to him without even looking up from the figures he'd been messing with when Mobei's claws got a little too close to digging a set of five holes in one such treaty offer. The demon didn't say anything, painstakingly relaxing his grip. "Even if it's a hell no, we still need a record of what we're saying no to, and to whom."

"The answer would be 'no' to anyone," Mobei growled. Qinghua was not strictly his... yet. But he would not allow another demon to think to convince this king to hand over his most prized confidant. And anyone who pressed would risk a royal visit in the middle of the night, or a drop into the nearest abyssal rift.

Straightening up to work a cramp out of his back, Shang Qinghua finally looked over at him. "What are they asking, my king?"

"Nothing that Qinghua needs to be concerned with. They will be rejected." One glare and a brush was handed to him so he could draft a response. Short, curt, and to the very clear point. Qinghua would not be entertaining suits from anyone, and further inquiries would be rejected in something more direct than cinnabar. He barely waited for it to dry before shoving it at the assistant. "Send it. Today."

"Er... are you sure you want to just reject it wholesale like that?" Shang Qinghua asked, hesitating. For one, his king usually bounced those back to him to smooth egos in his rejection letters. In fact, some of the only times that he could think of Mobei writing letters himself, was when he was either sending them within the clan, leaving notes to HIM, or the notes he'd sent to Shen Qingqiu while he'd been staying with him. Obviously, whatever they'd asked for must have been bad, but my king! Your advisor needs to know these things! Still, the sour look he got in response told him plenty. Yes, yes Mobei was sure. And didn't want to be questioned about it. "Ah, of course my king is sure. Hu Wenshi go run it to a courier. I'll still be working with these numbers for a while."

Better. Mobei nodded in satisfaction, picking up the next treaty as the little fox demon hurried out the briefly thawed and refrozen door.

By the time Hu Wenshi tapped on the door to be allowed back inside, Shang Qinghua was even more sure that either the last six months' reports had been pulled out of someone's ass or someone was fudging numbers. And either way, he had the same general to chew out because the numbers always circled around him. Glaring at the figures, he chewed on the end of his brush. As much as he'd love to just set his king on him like he'd done to some corrupt nobles and merchants in the past, it was more complicated than that this time.

First, his king was king in actuality now. His actions held more weight. Second, until he knew exactly what the General was doing, it couldn't be directly addressed except to send someone to keep a closer eye on his bookkeeping. Last, the name was on the list of officers and lords that'd been part of the old guard under the previous Mobei-Jun. As his king had told him before. While Shang Qinghua didn't think he was particularly influential among them, taking one down without an ironclad case would make the batch more difficult to deal with.

It was all one big headache.

Shang Qinghua motioned the fox demon over, drawing him lower until his ears were close by so he could whisper. He didn't really mean to keep secrets from his king, but he wanted to be sure first. "Hu Wenshi, this lord is going need to ask you to go speak to the payroll officer tomorrow," the cultivator murmured. "And whatever officer is currently in charge of the army food supply. I need you to double check every number here. Especially the ones that involve Wu Yuanzhi. But be subtle. He won't like being spied upon." Raising his voice just a fraction, he added, "Bring me the results when you're finished. No matter the hour."

The smaller demon nodded before straightening up. "Of course, Lord Shang. Is there anything else this servant can get for you tonight?"

Spotting the way Mobei had turned his attention to them and given a meaningful glance towards the water clock Shang Qinghua had had brought over from An Ding years ago, he sighed. "Put a heating talisman on the tea? I believe it's time to break for the night." He added playfully, "Before my king decides to just snatch me up instead."

Hu Wenshi choked even as Mobei-Jun rose to his feet as if to add weight to the threat, and scrambled to both get out of the way and to grab one of the heating talismans that Shang Qinghua had made ahead of time, stored in a fireproof box just in case something happened. The last thing they wanted was to risk a fire in the office. Thus the metal box, and the grate that stretched across the fireplace, allowing heat to come out but stopping paper, tails, or clothing from sweeping too close to the flames.

"I kept up my part of the trade," Shang Qinghua said, looking up at his king while he waited for the teas.

"Thank you," Mobei said simply. Sounding pleased that he wouldn't have to badger his human into resting and eating a proper meal this time. Like he'd had to do before. Though it was much easier now to just pick him up in his hand than when he'd had to throw him over his shoulder and risk getting kicked. The demon waited for him to drink the teas before he offered him a hand. He tucked the human into the usual hiding spot, glancing at Qinghua's assistant. "We will take dinner in my rooms."

The fox demon nodded, understanding the order to have food sent directly there. He bowed his head as Mobei-Jun stepped through the shadows and vanished from the room.

…leaving the door frosted shut. Siiigh. Well, it wasn't the first time. There were reasons they kept a portable oil burner on hand. And it wasn't just for a desk lamp.

Chapter Text

Binghe was pouting, and Shen Qingqiu was pretending to ignore the fact as they flew up the mountain together, his clingy husband riding with him on his sword. Practically wrapped around him. Of course, the reason for Binghe's mood was that Shen Qingqiu had decided he wanted to go back to the sect, since his visit had been cut extremely short with the kidnapping. Of course, that kidnapping meant that the demon emperor had been highly resistant to the idea of his Empress leaving his side, so they'd compromised. Yes, Shen Qingqiu would go back to the sect for a bit. And as long as he was there, Binghe would be there too. And no, he was not allowed to throw anyone not actively trying to kill them off the mountain. That included Liu Qingge. And the sect leader.

"Straighten up, we're almost there," Shen Qingqiu said, nudging Binghe while being careful he didn't push him off. Binghe would be fine even if he did somehow fall, but somehow he figured that pushing the half-demon off to fall would bring back some particular memories, so no thanks!

Of course, instead of listening, his sticky husband nuzzled the back of his neck instead. "But this husband is making sure Shizun doesn't fall."

"Xiu Ya wouldn't let me fall!" he sputtered, reaching around to swat the ridiculous man, offended on his sword's behalf. Of course, his fan was safely stored away, Binghe's arm crossed right over it so he couldn't reach the thing. Which was absolutely not an accident, he was sure. While his incurable M of a disciple didn't mind the whacking, he also didn't like Shen Qingqiu being able to cover his face! "Stand. Up. Right!"

"Shizun..."

It was a lost cause. And so were the remaining scraps of his dignity when they landed in the courtyard of Qing Jing with him still trying to pry Binghe off so he could stand upright! Of course, the moment he managed, the demon latched onto his hand like a lovesick schoolgirl.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" he asked, exasperated, before softening. "Come on. We should go see the sect leader. I'm sure he's been worried."

"Let him worry," Luo Binghe grumbled, nonetheless dutifully following along with Shen Qingqiu's tugging. "He let Shizun get captured under his watch when this disciple trusted them to keep you safe."

"Let it go, Binghe," Shen Qingqiu said with a sigh. "This master is fine. Your shishu had a far worse time than I did."

The demon Emperor huffed but couldn't tell his husband no, sticking close to him as Shen Qingqiu led them towards the rainbow bridges and getting a head pat as a consolation prize. He leaned into it, and if he'd had a tail to wag, it would have been wagging.

On the bright side, having Binghe glued to his side kept everyone from swarming. Not that Shen Qingqiu could really have blamed them considering he'd just gone missing... again. Still! Even if he needed to return some of the glares sent Binghe's way with his own icy rebukes.

Not that that stopped all of them.

"Shizun, welcome back." Ming Fan stopped to bow. On the way to do sword instruction, judging by the wooden swords in his arms. Rising, he narrowed his eyes at his former shidi. "Why is he here?"

"Luo Binghe is accompanying this master for his visit, by his invitation," Shen Qingqiu said with a frown. "Be polite to your shizhang-fu."

He could see Binghe startle before immediately brightening at the title, and sighed inwardly. Oh, he was going to be in for it tonight. But he didn't like seeing people being mean to his Binghe, and hadn't forgotten how much Ming Fan had bullied him when he couldn't fight back! Besides, they were married. So the title was accurate.

Of course, his senior disciple's expression soured as he was scolded, begrudgingly giving a nod towards Binghe. "Apologies," he said flatly, not at all apologetic. But that was likely as close as they'd get. And Shen Qingqiu could understand where at least the more recent part of that grudge stemmed from. He didn't like it, but he could understand it. The young man pointedly turned away from Luo Binghe back to face his shizun directly. "Shizun, this disciple is glad to see you weren't injured in your capture by those vile demons. Will you be home for long?"

Ignoring the additional insult this time (at least it was more subtle), Shen Qingqiu shook his head. "Likely only a few days. This master promised his husband that he could remain with him, and I fear longer than that would wear out our welcome too much."

"Is there anything this disciple can do?" Ming Fan asked, shoulders sinking. Ah, how had he raised such soft-hearted children?

"Would you go tell the sect leader that we're on our way?" he asked. It would hopefully keep him too busy to go off to Bai Zhan. Even if Liu Qingge had gone looking for him, surely he'd have had time to get back by now after Airplane's letters had gone out. "And inform a disciple on the way to make tea."

That part, Ming Fan nodded quickly to. It was well known what Shen Qingqiu thought of the sect leader's tea making abilities. Well, what most of the sect thought about them. The man was a menace with a kettle and shouldn't be allowed near tea leaves for the good of mankind. He bowed again with an "Of course, Shizun. Immediately," before drawing his sword to fly ahead of them with the urgency of a war letter.

"That boy," Shen Qingqiu sighed, shaking his head before giving Luo Binghe's hand a small tug. "Well then, come along."

Shen Qingqiu had had hopes for a quiet rest of the walk, of course. Just a quick trip across the rainbow bridge and over to have tea with Yue Qingyuan. Polite, friendly, brief. But since when did things really ever go his way?

As they reached the bridge, it was to the pleasant sight of two familiar faces walking together. Well, one and a half. Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan strolled side by side, arms linked together. Clearly, no longer being future wives hadn't stopped them from becoming friends! And he'd been about to call out a greeting to his student and shizhi when Binghe's hand tightened on his.

"Binghe?" he questioned, glancing at him.

"Since when is she allowed here?" the heavenly demon asked, visibly sulking.

"Liu-shizhi? She's never been forbidden from visiting Qing Jing..." Shen Qingqiu said slowly, confused. Don't tell him that Binghe's beef with Liu Qingge had spread to his sister as well!

"Not her. Her."

Still confused, the transmigrator turned back to look at the girls again as they grew nearer. And had to stop and stare.

What he could only assume was Liu Mingyan's sword floated beside them, carrying a seated passenger. One familiar woman in far too little red, the sound of bells finally reaching his ears as they grew nearer. And suddenly Shen Qingqiu wanted to know too. Since when was Sha Hualing allowed on the peaks! Crossing the very bridge her army had broken!

"That is a very good question," Shen Qingqiu said slowly. He gave Binghe's hand a squeeze before freeing himself from the demon's grip to approach the women.

The Saintess was the first to notice of course, or at least the first to admit to noticing, as neither of the other two looked surprised when she hopped down from the sword as soon as they were over solid ground, giving Binghe a flashy bow. "Lord Luo! This Ling-er didn't expect to see you here!"

"Shizun wanted to return for a time," Binghe said, eyes narrowed. "This lord didn't expect to see you here, either."

"Can't a warlord have friends?" Sha Hualing asked, just on the border of taunting, but not quite stepping over it. "A lady needs a lady's company sometimes, you know. Especially when they're this pretty."

Ning Yingying looked at the demoness with exasperation (maybe even fond exasperation, if Shen Qingqiu wanted to stretch it) before shaking her head and dipping into her own bow to the older cultivator. "Welcome back, Shizun. This disciple hopes she hasn't caused offense by inviting company without permission."

Some kind of company. Shen Qingqiu covered his face with his fan, glancing between them. Friends... or something more? Maybe he shouldn't have been surprised. There hadn't been any explicit scenes in Proud Immortal Demon Way with Liu Mingyan, but there'd been hints about things between the three... Huh.

"This master suspects that his Liu-shidi will be more bothered," Shen Qingqiu said, casting a meaningful glance between where Liu Mingyan's sword now sat at her waist next to the demoness it had just been carrying.

Said demoness, despite claiming the title of warlord, puffed out her cheeks at the remark. "If this Ling-er had been able to walk, she would have. But your sect's new bridges let me fall right through! It's not very welcoming!"

"A-Ling, you can't act like you're surprised, can you? You did break the rainbow bridge before," Ning Yingying said with a giggle. "Don't worry, Shizun, A-Ling's promised to be on her best behavior while she's here. And she gave me some extra fine silk to make some things for Shang-shishu!"

Somehow, that didn't sound like good news to the transmigrator. Ning Yingying, had no one ever explained to you the concept of a sect secret? And the slow smile that spread over the demoness's face made it very clear that she knew exactly what the young woman was talking about.

"Mobei's little cultivator gets into the best kinds of trouble, doesn't he?" she asked, her voice sing-song. "Tangling with Mobei's uncle, getting himself cursed. You would almost think he'd upset a god of some kind. But don't worry, A-Ying made me promise not to hurt her little martial uncle." Sha Hualing flicked a lock of hair back over her shoulder. "Besides, Mobei gets absolutely intolerable when he doesn't have his pet."

"Peak Lord Shang Qinghua isn't Mobei-Jun's pet," Shen Qingqiu said with a frown, fan covering his face. Sure, maybe the man had a lot in common with a hamster and Mobei sure seemed to keep him on a short leash, but the description still rubbed him the wrong way. Even if he didn't often say it, they were friends. "But this master is relieved to hear it."

Pouting that he wasn't the focus of his husband's attention, Luo Binghe tugged at his free hand. "Shizun, it will get too late for tea if we linger too long."

"Quite right," the peak lord said, tapping the curly head lightly with the tip of his fan, since his other hand was too busy to deliver a normal pat. "You ladies may carry on. But I had better not hear about trouble from you, Miss Sha."

"I'll be as sweet and polite as a little court maiden," Sha Hualing said with a grin, meaning so very little of it. But she could restrict herself to plotting and seducing disciples instead of injury and property damage. Since the other two women had asked for the same considerations. "Consort Shen won't even know I'm here."

"See that we don't," Luo Binghe said with a grumble before tugging Shen Qingqiu around the girls and to the bridge. "Shizun shouldn't bother himself with demons like her."

"Don’t be jealous," Shen Qingqiu said, unable to put much barb into his scolding. After all, wasn’t it partially his fault that Binghe had so much insecurity when he’d raised him?

The rest of the fault was Airplane’s. As were many things in this world.

The moment they stepped onto Qiong Ding Peak, a senior disciple was there to escort them to Yue Qingyuan’s personal house, polite enough not to rush them while seeing that no one slowed them down. As they were let inside, the sect leader rose from his seat, giving each of them a bow in greeting. Though the smile that accompanied Binghe’s was decidedly more performative than Shen Qingqiu’s. With perfect timing, another disciple arrived with a fresh pot of tea, serving it wordlessly before seeing themselves out.

"I appreciate you deciding to visit me," Yue Qingyuan said after a moment, picking up his cup to take a small sip. To show that it wasn't poisoned and was indeed safe to drink. "We were very worried about you, Shen-shidi."

"Didn't Shang Qinghua write about our rescue?" Shen Qingqiu asked, frowning as he likewise picked up his cup. Binghe followed suit, but didn't drink.

The sect leader sighed. "He did. This master was informed a few days ago, but hearing is not the same as seeing for one's own eyes. It is unfortunate that I am not able to travel to the demon world as easily as my shidi are, even to keep an eye on the two of you."

Shen Qingqiu elbowed Binghe subtly at the other man's scoff.

"I'm not the one who needs watching after, sect leader," he protested stiffly. Knowing immediately from the looks he was given that this was one of the rare occasions when the two other men actually agreed with each other, and that point they agreed on was that he needed more supervision than anyone. Shen Qingqiu flicked his fan open to his face. Rude. "More precisely, I'm not the one who got himself cursed this time."

"This time, yes," Yue Qingyuan said with a sigh. One that translated to a prayer to save him from cultivators who thought that running directly into danger was always the best choice. Their exact techniques were night and day, but it could be argued that Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge had some similarities in their methods. "Thankfully, Mu-shidi said that Shang Qinghua was looking well when Mobei-Jun brought them by. They did not stop to speak with me, so I did not see directly, but I trust Mu-shidi's judgment."

"Well, but unfortunately no larger than before," Shen Qingqiu added with a small frown. "Has Mu-shidi mentioned any progress in discovering what the plant that caused the trouble is?"

"Not as of last night, but he did mention being close to an answer," Yue Qingyuan said. "When my disciples said you were coming, I sent him a note asking for any updates. With his Mobei-Jun guarding him, I thought you would be more likely to be able to attain access to him."

"Yes, Zhangmen-shixiong makes a valid point." And the phrasing of Mobei guarding his fellow transmigrator was absolutely correct. Shen Qingqiu might not have had all the details about the obvious shift in their relationship, but he didn't need to have them to see that it'd happened. Or that the ice demon valued his former spy turned advisor turned—he didn't even know yet.

But at least he was pretty sure that Airplane didn't know either. And the man had called him oblivious. Ha!

Binghe, for once, also had to admit that Yue Qingyuan had a point. And he didn't like it. He frowned and folded his arms over his chest. "This lord can have the message passed through one of his subordinates. Shizun wanted to visit. Not immediately travel to the Northern Desert."

Yue Qingyuan's smile didn't slip, even if the corner of his mouth made a distinct twitch downward. "Of course. This master would never try to send his shidi away before he was ready to leave. He is always welcome to come home."

"We're both happy to be here," Shen Qingqiu said before his husband could raise to the subtle barb. And to make it clear that Binghe came with him as a package deal this time. He wouldn't let his husband feel like he was planning to split form him again. "Our bamboo house holds many memories."

"Did Lord Luo have someone in mind to deliver the message, in that case?" Yue Qingyuan asked, understanding the hint. Not liking it, no, but understanding. "As he is unable to do so directly."

"Sha Hualing is here," Binghe said, leaning back in his seat with a snort. Jealous that she was apparently allowed when he'd needed Shen Qingqiu to argue for his presence there. (But maybe a little pleased that he'd done so so quickly. Just a little.) "She'll do it."

This time, the sect leader did allow himself to actually frown without keeping a diplomatic image of pleasantness. "Yes, Saintess Sha arrived this morning. Without invitation. So far, she's behaved, but remains under watch. Considering her behavior during her first... visit." That first visit being the unprovoked attack on the sect when the sect leader himself had been away from the mountain. "It would be best for her to be elsewhere by the time Liu-shidi returns. This master believes that she and Shang-shidi were previously acquainted under your service?"

Binghe shrugged his shoulder. "He came along when she and Mobei met with me during Shizun's absence, yes." He let out a snort that even sounded almost amused. "I don't think she likes him, but she won't attack him. Not if he's with his king. Even if she holds a bit of a grudge against him."

Shen Qingqiu looked sideways at his demon husband, confused. "Why would she have a grudge against him of all people?" She hadn't had designs on Mobei, had she? He didn't remember any hints about that in the book. Sure, all women eventually went to Binghe in the original book, but plenty of the wives had had boyfriends, fiancés, lovers, and crushes before meeting Binghe. And he just couldn't picture Airplane writing a love interest for the ice king.

"She didn't like some advice he gave me," Binghe said, leaning towards his shizun with a smile on his lips. "Stupid of her. It was good advice. Maybe she could have used some of it herself."

Catching himself staring, Shen Qingqiu snapped his fan open to cover his face. Just what kind of advice had Shang Qinghua been giving his Binghe?! If it had anything to do with those books floating around, he was going to kill him, friend or not!

Looking between them, the sect leader opened his mouth to ask for clarification when a soft knock on the door interrupted the scene. "Enter."

A disciple in Qian Cao browns slid the door open with a bow. "Forgiving this disciple's interruption, Sect Leader. My shizun sent the update that was requested." He retrieved a small scroll from his sleeve to hold out, waiting until he was motioned forward to step into the room and hand it to the sect leader with another bow. "He sends his apologies for not delivering it himself."

"I am sure Mu-shidi is quite busy. Send your master my thanks," Yue Qingyuan said, his smile returning while the disciple ducked out of the room and shut the door once again. He opened the scroll carefully, laying it on the table so both parties could see what was written upon it.

Mu Qingfang was mostly certain that he'd found a mention of the flower in one of his older books. There'd been a description of tiny flowers that could, without outside prevention, be used in a poison to 'slowly shrink a foe to none' and warned the reader to take care not to ingest it themselves, and to be careful with what it was mixed with in the stomach, because the effects could be magnified too quickly. What it lacked, unfortunately, was a lot of information about where it grew or any images of the flower. Blue and white petals didn't tell them a lot. The note about it having been thought possibly extinct at best, mythological at worst, until now was not encouraging either.

Shen Qingqiu lightly ran his fingers over the description, mentally chewing on the name. The Shrinking Daisy. Ridiculous name, but so obviously the kind of thing that Airplane would come up with. Probably twitching with too much caffeine at three in the morning. If they ever ended up back in anything resembling their old world, he was going to hire someone to keep an eye on the idiot's coffee and energy drink consumption. Maybe he could hint at it to Mobei-Jun, going on the assumption that the two demons wouldn't let them just vanish off the face of the world without finding a way to follow them.

But back on the point, while it was a fine example of an Airplane named plant, it wasn't one that rang a bell. He couldn't remember any wives encountering such a plant or shrinking or anything like that. Meaning either the System had gotten creative, or it was something from the drafts.

Neither option was good.

"Unfortunately, this master is unfamiliar with this plant," Shen Qingqiu said after a moment, not unaware of the way the two men were looking at him in hopes that he'd be able to pull the information from the air. Not knowing that the only reason he could do so was because he had knowledge of the book this world was born from.

Meaning if something hadn't made it into the published version, he didn't know much better than anyone else did.

"Shang-shidi may know more, if it proves to be from the demon realm," he added. If he remembered it at all. The other transmigrator didn't always have the best memory about the world he'd created. Which was stupid. If he'd created something from scratch that was as big and popular as Proud Immortal Demon Way, he bet that he'd be able to recite it from front to back. "He's spent more time there over the years."

Yue Qingyuan cleared his throat, deliberately not commenting on that, considering that Shang Qinghua had been spending time there secretly working for a demon while spying on the sect and the movements of the cultivation world. "Hopefully. The apparent rarity of it makes its presence in Qian Cao's medical stocks all the more concerning however. It could make developing a cure more difficult."

"Mu-shishu has the sample from the medicine already," Binghe said, speaking up with a frown. There was something almost familiar about the flower that he could not put his finger on. Had he come across it while searching for a way to revive Shen Qingqiu? He didn't recall it, but he had been searching through so many books and scrolls in his hunt. "He was already able to identify it. What more does he need?"

"Mu-shidi only has dried samples that were already mixed in and partially crushed in the medicine production," Shen Qingqiu corrected gently, reaching to take his hand. "If someone could find a fresh one, it would be much more useful in creating a cure."

The half-demon huffed, but threaded his fingers together nonetheless, because he would never not be willing to hold Shizun's hand. Especially when his easily-flustered husband initiated it himself. "Fine. This lord will have someone looking for it." Not only did he owe Shang Qinghua, but he wanted Mobei back able to focus. Handling both of which involved getting his martial uncle back to his regular size. Plus he wanted his shizun's attention back on HIM, and not worrying about the other man.

If he was worried about him too, he wasn't ready to say it.

"Many thanks, Lord Luo," Yue Qingyuan said with a dip of his head. Straightening once again, he smiled across the table at the other cultivator. "For the moment, however, how is Shen-shidi?"

By the time that the tea had been drained and the snacks eaten (good, but not as good as Binghe's), Shen Qingqiu was admittedly more relaxed. He'd been more than a little nervous about how the pair would interact considering the not-very-old history, but both men had been on good behavior. Thought that could have been because Binghe was distracted with something, clearly chewing over what had been said earlier.

Shen Qingqiu waited until they'd left the peak to link his arm with his disciple's, looking at up at him. "Binghe has something on his mind."

"Shizun doesn't need to worry about it," Luo Binghe said, using their arms to draw him closer.

"Binghe."

Luo Binghe sighed. "This disciple did not want to mention it in front of the sect leader, but while Shizun and he were talking, I remembered something about the flower Mu-shishu described in his letter. It felt familiar, and this one may have seen it before. It is difficult to be sure."

"You've seen it before?" Shen Qingqiu asked, surprised. Maybe he shouldn't have been, because as the protagonist of course Binghe had come across all sorts of rare plants and animals, but there were so many 'rare and unique' plants in this world that it was still quite the coincidence. "Where?"

The demon emperor was silent for a while, holding tightly to his husband before he was willing to speak up and answer. "In the Endless Abyss."

Ah.

"Well," Shen Qingqiu said softly, "Obviously that's not the only place it grows, or it wouldn't have gotten into your Shang-shishu's tea." It had to grow someplace else, because there was no way in hell that he would send Binghe back into the Endless Abyss. Even if it was the only way for Airplane to go back to normal anytime soon. Sorry, but his husband came first. "But that does point to being from the demon realm originally, and not the human realm, if it could survive there."

Binghe's shoulders relaxed as it sank in that he wouldn't be asked to return to that place. If it were Shizun who had shrunken so tiny, it would be one thing. But for anyone else, anyone else in this entire world? No. "This disciple will still send someone to look for it."

Shen Qingqiu squeezed his arm, giving him a small smile. "Of course you will. As if you'd go back on your word. I trust Binghe."

"Maybe... maybe this disciple could try and revisit it in a dream?" Luo Binghe suggested delicately. It was not like returning to the real place. And that trust made his heart glow, like a warm blanket wrapped around it. Made him feel braver. "If Shizun was with him, he would not be afraid. And then Shizun could paint the flower so it'll be easier for others to find."

"Binghe would be willing to do that?" the immortal asked, surprised. Before Binghe could have a chance to doubt, he snapped open his fan to shield them from anyone who might glance their way and planted a kiss on his husband's mouth. And then a second one.

"Shizun!" Binghe yelped, his eyes going wide as he was kissed. It wasn't the first time the older man had initiated, but it was always a surprise. And a happy one!

"This master will stick close to Binghe's side when he dreams, and when he wakes," Shen Qingqiu promised. "After you send Sha Hualing on her errand, let's eat together, okay?"

This time, the Qing Jing peak lord didn't have time to bring his fan up before he was getting kissed again. And again. And again.

-

Sha Hualing wasn't happy to get her visit cut short, but orders were orders. Rotten Luo Binghe. First he rejects her for a crusty old man, and then he gets in the way of her courtships afterwards anyway! Why had she wanted him in the first place? Right. He was cute and powerful. Well, he was still powerful, but when he acted this way he was absolutely not cute!

The temptation to drop the notes she'd been given to deliver (deliver! Like some servant or messenger!) into the first fire pit she saw was strong. But unfortunately, there was no way that their Emperor wouldn't find out about it, and if there was one person she didn't want to annoy more than Luo Binghe, it was his human cultivator mate. Because while annoyed Luo Binghe was dangerous, he'd be even worse if his mate got upset. Bah! Soft human wouldn't even fight his own battles in the demon courts, she bet. At least her pretty suitors could handle themselves.

Cloak wrapped tightly around herself, she continued to grumble as she stomped through the snow that got deeper the further north she went. Stupid north, stupid cold. And what was it all for? Mobei's stupid human! If it weren't for the fact that she knew how insufferable Mobei got when his human wasn't around, and how frankly nuts he went when he was missing, Sha Hualing was sure she could manage to have a little accident around him when she got there. Especially if A-Ying hadn't been exaggerating about how small he'd shrunk. Down to handhold-able, like some pet rodent.

At least that mental comparison brought a smile to her lips, as blue as they'd surely turned under the make-up by now. Now the human really was Mobei's pet. Maybe he could be convinced to keep him in a cage. It'd keep him safe, after all. And if the mental image just so happened to cheer her up enough to make the rest of the trip bearable, that was her business.

Because oh, while she couldn't hurt the little rodent, she could certainly make him a little more miserable.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua was pretty sure that Tianlang-Jun was trying to hunt him down.

He didn't think it was with malicious intentions, but that didn't mean it wasn't leaving him a nervous wreck. Every time his king tried to take him out to the gardens to get some sunlight and peace, there he was, oh so coincidentally taking advantage of the pretty scenery for some light reading. When his desk was moved further away from the throne (you know, the one that the former Emperor had claimed for himself), it was either shoved back into place or the demon just decided to stand as he 'visited' the court to admire how Mobei ran things. The one time that he'd convinced Mobei to take him to the library so he could look something up? There he was! Browsing the shelves and complaining that the clan clearly suffered from a lack of romances to inspire them. Shang Qinghua suspected the only reason that they weren't caught sleeping was because Mobei applied wards to his door on top of freezing it completely solid every night to keep anyone who couldn't teleport out.

And on top of everything, the demon kept asking Mobei about him. What he was up to, how he was 'recovering,' how were 'things' progressing. Even if Tianlang-Jun didn't say outright what those 'things' were, he made it pretty obvious! Old man, you completely misread them! There are no 'things' going on between them! And why were you so interested in him?! Shang Qinghua wasn't his son-in-law or anyone at all interesting! He hadn't done anything to release him, or save his nephew, or anything like that! Please ignore this completely boring old master!

"Mobei, a word!"

Mobei-Jun pretended not to have heard the visiting former emperor, but his walking pace had sped up just that much. But the demon who'd managed to court Su Xiyan was not one who was easily brushed aside, and he sped up even faster, not dignified enough to care about being seen rushing to catch up.

"In such a hurry to get to work, young Mobei?" Tianlang-Jun asked with a bright smile as he drew up next to the ice demon. "It's nice to see such dedication to your duties, and at your age."

"Is there something you require?" Mobei-Jun asked flatly, as if he didn't notice Qinghua flattening himself down over his shoulder, using the similarly colored robes to better blend in in case his shield of hair was brushed aside at the wrong time.

"Merely being social with my generous host," the older demon said cheerfully. "You make a much better host than my son, you know. He would have chased me out by now, I'm sure."

Mobei-Jun was seriously considering taking his Emperor's example and doing just that, but it wouldn't do to make an enemy of a demon as powerful as Tianlang-Jun without a good reason. And sadly, unless he actually attacked or harmed his tiny advisor, Mobei didn't have a good reason at the moment.

Pity.

"This king is not a social person," he pointed out, looking at him sideways. Would it be too rude to create a portal and leave? Or would it make the impression that he was offering for the heavenly demon to follow him?

For everything that he expected from the eccentric demon, it wasn't to suddenly have an arm slung around his shoulder. And for everything he expected for Shang Qinghua's safety, it wasn't for a hand to suddenly come down over him when he was on his person.

But for once, his reflex failed him. Because as he jerked away in a lurch of shadow from the uninvited touch, the other demon's fingers curled in and there was a weight missing from his shoulder when he stepped back out. Mobei-Jun reached up to feel his shoulder, finding nothing but a hint of warmth left as he turned furious eyes on the heavenly demon. Who was standing in the same place as before, a tiny figure in dark blue robes grasped in his hand.

"My king!" Shang Qinghua yelped, struggling against Tianlang-Jun's grasp before remembering that falling would not be a good thing and grabbing hold of those fingers with one arm while the other reached desperately towards Mobei-Jun.

"Give him back," Mobei snarled. Someone had taken his human from him. His human, who was afraid, and was calling to him for help. "You dare to lay hands on him!"

"Calm down, young Mobei," Tianlang-Jun said, daring to still be cheerfully calm as he held the tiny cultivator up to get a better look at him. "Ah, now I remember this one. He was with you when my son and I had our fight, wasn't he? You've done a very good job at keeping him hidden. I've only managed to catch a single glimpse before now, and knew you wouldn't allow any other human than your renowned advisor so many liberties, carrying him around like this. Just like you've been trying to keep him a secret from me and everyone else in your court. And here you have everyone just thinking that he's hiding out or has turned invisible."

Mobei-Jun refused to be calmed, darting forward to grab for his tiny human with one hand, claws fully bared on the other as he struck out for the older demon. But while the ice demon was both strong and fast, so was Tianlang-Jun. And as a much older demon, he had more experience, skipping backwards almost casually.

"Now, now, little king, don't be hasty or you'll hurt your little advisor," he scolded playfully, voice almost sing-song even as he adjusted his hold to keep Shang Qinghua from being so easily swatted from his grip. "Humans are more durable than they look, but they can still be very easily broken. Especially when they're still small."

"My king isn't the one kidnapping me!" Shang Qinghua argued, his face pale as he was swung about like the ball in the worst game of keep-away ever. "Please, hand me back!"

"Ah, but look how easily he lost you, little human," Tianlang-Jun said, ducking from a set of ice-elongated claws that swung for his head. "What's to keep someone less human inclined from snatching you too? You should let me carry you around instead. At least I actually have experience with courting humans. You've known young Mobei for how long, and he still barely has a clue~"

"What's that have to do with anything?!" The author slapped a hand over his mouth as his stomach rebelled against all of the wild motion, threatening to come back up if he didn't get a moment to hold still. "Ugh..."

Red eyes flicked down at him before Tianlang-Jun jumped back to finally set him down on the floor. Shang Qinghua sat down hard on his ass, trying to get the world to stop spinning while the two giants kept trying to gut each other. Well, Mobei was trying to gut Tianlang-Jun. The elder demon seemed to just be having fun.

Save him from ridiculous demons and their urges to fight everything that could hope to challenge them! He staggered up to his feet, staring up at them with wide eyes. He'd barely spent any time on the floor since he'd finished shrinking, and even less time when around normal sized people. And never before had he seen them fighting from this angle. It was both beautiful and terrifying. Underscore on the terrifying.

"My king, I'm here!" he shouted, but Mobei didn't make any indication that he'd heard him, not when he had an opponent with claws reaching towards his face. Even though the fight had started because Tianlang-Jun grabbed him, he'd obviously been all but forgotten in the heat of it! He staggered backwards, further away from the two giants to keep from getting hit or stepped on. But he couldn't get too far, because who would protect him if someone found him alone?!

A red tinged shadow fell over him a moment before he bumped into something, jerking to a stop. Dread welling up in his stomach, Shang Qinghua looked up slowly. She may have been dressed in more fabric than usual for the temperature, but Sha Hualing still managed to drape herself in gauzy red silks that had let the light through when she loomed over him. Which she was doing right now, peering down with a raised eyebrow. Neither of them spoke for a moment, hardly even moving. Shang Qinghua in fear, and Sha Hualing in... fuck if he knew. If there was someone in Binghe's little inner circle that might decide he was better off done away with, it was probably her!

But she didn't attack, not even when all she'd have needed to do is take a step forward because what he'd bumped into was her foot. She just stared at him, eyes slowly narrowing. Every moment she kept her eyes locked on him made him break into more and more of a sweat, but he was absolutely rooted to the ground, too nervous even to shout.

As it turned out, the Saintess had no such reservations. Because in the next moment, she let out a squeal and he was caught up in red painted nails before he could even think about reacting.

"You're so cute!"

Shang Qinghua sputtered as he was crushed up against a much softer chest than he was used to, hugged close like a kitten with his arms pinned to his sides. "L-Lady Sha!"

"Why didn't anyone tell me you'd turned this adorable?" Sha Hualing giggled, pinching his face between two fingers to squish his cheeks. "No wonder Mobei's been keeping you all to himself!"

The temperature dropped abruptly in the hallway, making both demoness and her captive human shiver as their attention was turned towards where the fight had quite suddenly come to an end as soon as Mobei-Jun noticed someone else not only there, but with their hands on Shang Qinghua.

"Beibei, do you have to make it so cold? Your palace is never warm enough as it is," Sha Hualing whined, pulling her travel cloak tighter around her shoulders. When the king's only response was to glare and hold his hand out demandingly, she pouted before dropping the human into it. "Spoilsport. I wasn't going to hurt him."

"Do not touch him," Mobei-Jun growled. He brought Shang Qinghua close to his chest, paying no mind to the scratches left by Tianlang-Jun's claws. Said former emperor had quite a few himself, and likewise ignored them in favor of the more interesting bit of drama being played out.

"Don't be so rude," the demoness said with a huff, putting her hands on her hips. "This Ling-er came as a favor. But if you don't want it, I can go right back home."

Pressing his shrunken human closer to his chest, Mobei-Jun glared down at Sha Hualing. "What kind of favor?"

"That human doctor sent a note for your little pet," she said flippantly, bells jingling from her wrists. "I didn't bother to read it, but I'm pretty sure it's meant to go right to him."

"Qinghua is not a pet," Mobei growled. He was getting tired of demons 'visiting' with things for them and trying to keep those things away from him. "Give this king the message. Now."

"Mobei was rude to Ling-er. He should let her hold the little human first, as an apology."

"Hey, don't I have some say in that?!" Shang Qinghua protested, flailing a hand between two fingers. Only to have to squirm for his ribs when his king responded by holding him that much closer. Any tighter and he'd be squashed flat! Thankfully, Mobei-Jun noticed his human's struggles and relaxed his grasp. Just enough to keep his ribs from creaking.

Sha Hualing looked down at him (or, at least, the lump under Mobei's hand where he was), snorting. "You're lucky you're cute like a little doll. I think I had one like you when I was growing into my adult teeth. I chewed its legs off eventually."

Squeaking, the author ducked even more firmly under his king's hand, Mobei's growl vibrating through his body. Yes, protect him please! He needed his legs for running away!

"Do not threaten," the demon said, his voice low and dangerous. "Do not touch. Give this king the message and leave."

"Always so serious and grumpy," Sha Hualing said with a sigh. She reached into her top and pulled out the rolled up note. It was slightly squashed, but at least it was dry as she shoved it at the king. "And there is no way that I am going back out into that snowy hell you call a kingdom until I have a chance to thaw." And poke at the little shrunken cultivator of course. But obviously saying that would get a portal opened under her feet into some deep chasm in the ice. So instead she looked past the icy storm cloud that was her fellow general to the Emperor and peered at Tianlang-Jun. Huh? Binghe really didn't look all that much like him, did he? "What are you doing here?"

"Hm? Oh, the same as young lady Sha," Tianlang-Jun said, his face as innocent as you please. He too pulled a paper from his robes, holding it out. "Finally remembered to bring it from my rooms. So sorry for the delay."

Narrowing his eyes, Mobei-Jun snatched both notes single-handedly, shaking out the one from Mu Qingfang first. It only took a quick glance to see that it was about the plant that'd started all this. That, he tucked into his robes for later before opening the one delivered by Tianlang-Jun. Reading it quickly, he stopped, scowling at the older demon.

"Junshang told you to deliver this?" he asked, growling.

"Not in so many words. But I was on my way anyway when I ran across the messenger just about to leave with it, so of course I thought that it'd be so much better to deliver it myself," Tianlang-Jun said cheerfully. "Always better to have a familiar face do the job. And one less likely to just vanish with it because the messenger got eaten along the way. What does it say?"

"A warning," Mobei-Jun said flatly.

"What? Let me see!" Shang Qinghua pushed Mobei's fingers apart enough to look between, reading over the short note before letting out a pained groan. "A warning that lord Tianlang-Jun was coming." As in it was so very obvious that no, he was not the one who'd been intended to deliver the message since it was about him. He looked up at the grinning demon, holding tight to one of the fingers still supporting him. "A message saying that you were likely on your way and would arrive within a few days."

"Oh? Well, that would explain the poor errand-boy's rush. I do hope my son doesn't punish him too harshly when he arrives back earlier than expected." Tianlang-Jun smiled down at him, his eyes in little crescents and all too pleased with himself. Of course, if the messenger had a bit of sense to his name, then he'd clearly also just stay out of sight until it was reasonable that he'd gone and returned.

"And what does the other one say?" Shang Qinghua asked, holding back a groan. Wasn't being tiny bad enough without the trouble makers of the demon realm all deciding to come visit for no good reason? What did he do in a past life to make him deserve this? He was only making a living!

Fishing out the second letter and unrolling it, Mobei tilting it to show the tiny man in his grasp. "Your healer believes he has identified the plant that caused this. Junshang added a few things as well."

He perked up, trying to climb higher in Mobei's hold to get a better view. "He figured it out? Knew he was my favorite shidi for a reason! Let me see those notes."

Mobei-Jun held the note still, sweeping his eyes over the other two demons standing in the hallway. "This king's hospitality depends on your ability to keep this a secret."

Sha Hualing waved the veiled warning off with a roll of her eyes. "Beibei, I'm not going to get your pet human hurt, don't worry. As entertaining as it'd be to watch you murder your entire court for finding out. But this Ling-er would be happy to keep an eye on him for you."

"I've known for days," Tianlang-Jun added casually. "You really should hide him somewhere better than on your shoulder. The right angle and he was in plain view. Perhaps this old man can give you some pointers. I used to hide my nephew around my neck or in my sleeves when he was little. He was such an ugly thing that he was almost adorable."

"I can keep my adviser safe without help," Mobei-Jun said with a scowl at each of them. "You will do your part by keeping away from him."

The two demons, one older and one younger, shared a glance that was all too knowing for the king's nerves. Unwilling host or no, he turned his back to them and swept away, cutting open a portal to carry them directly to his rooms and snapping it shut much more aggressively than needed. Just in case they thought about following them.

Still scowling, he closed his eyes and deliberately took a slow breath to calm his temper. He was angry, yes, but the target of his ire was out of sight. And the delicate treasure they'd threatened (just by being there and knowing and touching...) was back in his hands. Only once he felt calm enough did he open his eyes again and look down at his well-ruffled adviser held firmly in his grasp. For a while, he allowed himself to simply stare, watching to see that he was still there and whole.

"Was Qinghua hurt?" he asked at last, once he felt settled enough that he would not lash out at the other man.

Shang Qinghua swallowed at the way Mobei stared, and it took him a moment to realize that he'd been asked a question. "Ah, no. Just a little shaken up, my king. Being waved around wasn't my idea of fun."

"This king failed to keep you from capture," Mobei said, bowing his head. "It may be too dangerous to expose you to court."

"Wait- what? Just because someone who used to be the Emperor managed to spot me?" the author sputtered. "My king, you can't be saying that you intend to start just leaving me behind while you're at court. You aren't, are you?"

"You were promised safety," the demon said. "If Tianlang-Jun, a visible threat, can reach you, one who isn't so obvious could kill you before this king notices the danger."

"But what about you? You've been protecting me, but you still need someone to watch your back in court!" Shang Qinghua protested with alarm. He could hear where this was headed! "You know how two-faced people in court are!"

"This king can manage himself. As Qinghua said, the court holds many who would attack given the opportunity," Mobei-Jun said, looking down at him. It didn't escape notice that he hadn't allowed the tiny human out of his hands yet. "Particularly if they learned how vulnerable this king's weakness is at this time."

"Your weakness? What weakness, my king?" he asked, blinking.

Mobei-Jun merely stared at him wordlessly until his meaning became clear. His king meant him.

He could barely hear anything over the blood pounding in his ears as that really sunk in. Mobei-Jun considered him to be his weakness. Had even hinted that other demons in the court thought the same. And his king was not angry about that.

"M-my king," Shang Qinghua sputtered, eyes wide as he stared up at that intense stare, unable to look away. "You can't mean—this one is only a lowly servant, hardly that important! Even my sect barely tolerates me, and that's just because no one else can do all the paperwork!"

"Qinghua is important to this king," Mobei-Jun said. He frowned before adding, "Not because he manages the paperwork. Or his advising in court."

Swallowing, the author's head spun as his tried to think of what else the demon could mean. "For my spying? I'm glad that I was able to give my king good information, but I can hardly do that now that the sect knows of our connection. And surely it can't do any harm for demons to know that I was a spy. The whole treason thing might not make me look good, but all monarchs have spies. It's just part of the-"

He was abruptly us off by a finger covering his mouth and startling him into silence. Blushing, he blinked up at the demon.

Mobei waited until he was sure that the tiny cultivator wouldn't just start talking again before he removed his finger, touching it under his chin instead. As if he needed to do so to keep Shang Qinghua looking at him. Meaning he probably felt it against the tip of his finger when the other swallowed hard, pulse racing.

"Qinghua is important to this- to me. Personally."

Shang Qinghua, voice was small even for his shrunken size. " ... oh."

"Allow me to protect what is most precious to me," Mobei-Jun said, his voice soft and, if Shang Qinghua allowed himself to admit, tender.

For all that he thought he knew and understood his king after serving him for decades, after creating him from his own mind, Shang Qinghua would never, could never, have expected to hear such words from Mobei's lips. If he weren't already seated on the demon's hand, he might have fallen over from shock alone, even without the tide of his own emotions rising up to swamp him. So he just nodded, for once completely without words. Any time he tried to open his mouth, the word 'precious' when referring to him just kept spinning through his head and knocked any other word away from his lips.

"Qinghua will stay here and be safe," Mobei said, running a finger over his head. "This king will send someone trusted to assist you so you can have work to do if you wish."

"R-right, work," Shang Qinghua said. Mobei, his mind was so far from being on work right now. "That's very nice of you, my king. I'm not sure if- Ah, well, it'd be good to have someone on hand either way, wouldn't it?"

"Mn."

Mobei-Jun raised him up higher and for a wild moment Shang Qinghua thought that the demon was either going to bite him... or kiss him. But only inhaled close to his head, the air lifting his hair up as he was sniffed. And up close (so, so close), he could see the frown form on his king's lips.

"My king?" he asked softly, craning his head back to see the other's eyes before Mobei made it easier for him by lowering him back down to chest height.

"A bath first," Mobei-Jun said with a snort, as if clearing the smell from his nose. Before the author could be offended, he added, "You smell like them."

Them...? It took a moment to click before he snickered, feeling the tension drain from his body. "Ah, well, they did get their hands on me. So sure, a bath sounds good!"

Satisfied with his adviser's agreement, Mobei swept into their shared bedchamber before finally allowing Shang Qinghua to step down from his hands and onto the vanity so he had them free to gather together the supplies needed. The cultivator used the flurry of movement to focus on instead of thinking about what'd just gone on between them and what it could mean. Nope, not going to go there until he was good and alone!

Hot water was called for and brought to the door, the servant allowed no further and kept well out of being able to see the bedroom or the human hidden within. Mobei used a small dish to collect soaps and hair oils. The king's own, Shang Qinghua couldn't help but notice, not the ones he'd brought once from the sect. Meaning that not only were they undoubtedly better quality, but they would make him smell like him.

And wasn't that something to dwell on later.

While he waited, Shang Qinghua carefully took his hair down, setting the bead/crown aside so it wouldn't get lost before accepting the tiny comb from Mobei to comb out his hair.

His king really was spoiling him, wasn't he? He'd read a few stories about tiny people, fairies, or people who got shrunk when he was younger, and it was always rough, make-shift things. Sometimes furniture from doll houses, but never so comfortable. Not silks and jewelry and food literally off a king's plate. If Mobei-Jun hadn't assured him so firmly that he wasn't being kept as a pet more than once, he might have worried.

Instead, he'd hinted at something so very different.

"Qinghua?"

He jerked, pulled back out of his thoughts by the sound of his name. Mobei-Jun was looking down at him expectantly, his hand held out.

"Ah, sorry my king, I was lost in thought," Shang Qinghua said quickly, red creeping up his neck. Thankfully hidden by his hair now that it was down. "What did you say?"

"This king wanted your outer robes. They need to be cleaned," Mobei-Jun said, a twist of amusement that the author was pretty sure only he'd noticed in his voice. "A fresh set have been brought over."

Shang Qinghua swallowed. Mobei-Jun was asking him to take his clothes off. Not down to the skin, and not because he wanted to see him undressed or anything, but he was still asking him to take his clothes off!

Down, libido, down!

He scrambled to undo his belts, holding onto the charms as always, before dropping the top two layers in Mobei's waiting hand. He hoped that his king really was planning to just get them cleaned and not burn them or something, because they were nice! But he obviously didn't want them to carry another demon's scent while his servant was wearing them. What would that say?

"An assistant will be delivered after Qinghua has had time to wash," his king said, closing his hand around the discarded robes and nudging his adviser toward the 'tub' awaiting him. "They will inform this king if there is any danger."

"Ah, I'm sure everything will be safe, my king," Shang Qinghua said, trying to push down the blush that was sure to give him away. "No one but us can enter these chambers without permission after all. Right?"

Mobei-Jun nodded. "The way is sealed." Once again, he touched the top of Shang Qinghua's head, letting his finger linger there for a moment before he straightened up. As if he'd been reassuring himself that the human was there. "Do not try to leave. The assistant will be instructed to keep Qinghua here."

"Leave and go back out there with grabby handed demons?" Shang Qinghua asked, feeling the sudden urge to scoff at the idea. "Ha. Don't worry, my king, this one hears and obeys. If I leave this room without the company of my liege, it'll be kicking and screaming for my king."

"It will not happen." But Mobei still looked pleased at the idea, even if he was less pleased about leaving. But nevertheless, the demon opened a portal and vanished through it.

Shang Qinghua waited for the shadows to fade away fully before he quickly stripped down the rest of the way and plopped himself into the 'tub,' sliding down until he was chin deep.

"Holy shit," he muttered, leaning back. Because now that he was alone, there wasn't as much to distract him from what'd just happened.

First, he'd been grabbed and handled by two very, very dangerous demons who at different points of time would have liked to or could have killed him so very easily. And didn't have any reason to value him as much as his king did. Which! Brought him to the next world shattering thing. Mobei-Jun had called him (him!) precious. And then all the touching. The possessiveness over his scent. The protectiveness.

There was absolutely no way that it meant what it sounded like it meant. Maybe Mobei was just starting to see them as friends. Right, a pair of bros against the world. They'd sure worked together long enough!

But... bros didn't call each other precious. Not with that kind of stare. Slowly, it actually kind of sunk in that Mobei-Jun might just actually sort of... like him.

Covering his face with his hands, he muffled a groan. "My king, why can't you just leave a note or something. A bullet point list about what you're actually trying to say, maybe? Or just words. Words would be good!"

Shang Qinghua occupied himself grumbling about his king's poor communication skills as he scrubbed up, making liberal use of the soaps he'd been given to wash away every scrap of demon scent from his skin and hair. Even Mobei's, though using his soaps kind of marked him all over again didn't it? He got out before the water could get too cold, considering that a little cup of water didn't hold a lot of heat, and hurried to dress before he could get chilly despite the warming talisman.

True to his word, Mobei had set a fresh set of robes in reach, just as fine and soft as the last, and Shang Qinghua couldn't help but to follow the urge to run his hands over them as he tied the belts. They were nicer than anything he'd worn as a peak lord, including his robes from the ascension ceremony when he and his fellow peak lords had taken their places. Mobei really was spoiling him rotten, wasn't he?

The hair oils too were high quality. Of course they were. They belonged to a rich demon king and he himself made sure that Mobei always had the best. Meaning that even his hair felt silky and smooth with their use. It was almost a shame to twist it up into even a half bun, but he couldn't exactly go around with it down.

Holding it with one hand, he reached for the crown, only to freeze.

The silver crown that Mobei had given him to wear wasn't where he'd left it. In its place, was a sapphire bead, finely carved and sitting right next to his ribbon. The hair stick was in the same place, so he didn't think that it'd just been left there by accident, but... why would Mobei give him that?!

Sure, sometimes Shang Qinghua didn't have the best memory for every detail of this world, but it hadn't been that long since his king had explained to him the important significance of the sapphire beads.

He swallowed heavily, letting his hair fall so he could pick up the bead/crown on both hands, staring at it. His king couldn't really mean- Couldn't be saying- Was he really just leaving it for him to find and figure out himself?!

As he held the crown, a sudden flex of energy and cold flared up from the next room accompanied by the second half of a startled yelp before the chill and energy vanished just as quickly, before he'd even finished opening his mouth to utter "My king!"

There was silence from the other room before a familiar voice spoke up. "...Shizun?"

Shang Qinghua almost dropped the crown in surprise. "Shi Wuyou?! I'm in here!"

There was the all too familiar dull thump of a heavy stack of papers being dropped (that had him inwardly wincing at the idea of how much work it'd be getting sorted again) before quick footsteps led to the teenager ducking their head in the room.

He had to hold back a little snicker. For once, his unflappable head disciple looked remarkably... well, flapped.

"Over here," Shang Qinghua said with a wave, making himself more visible until his disciple's eyes landed on him and the boy slipped fully into the room. "Let me guess, he just showed up, grabbed you, and brought you here."

"He did tell me to grab the documents on the desk before bringing me, but otherwise, yes, Shizun," the teenager said. He looked around, clearly trying not to stare in wide-eyed wonder at the bedchambers of a royal demon.

Shaking his head, Shang Qinghua wasn't really sure whether to be thankful or annoyed at his king's actions. But of course, the weight in his hands made him feel even more of both. And... a lot of something else.

"Mobei-Jun told this master that he would send me an assistant for the afternoon, but I didn't think he'd go kidnapping one of my disciples to fill the part," he said with a little sigh. "Apologies, Shi Wuyou."

"No, no!" the teenager rushed to say, hurrying further into the room to give a greeting bow. "This disciple admits that it delivered a bit of a start, but I am glad to be of help to my Shizun! I just didn't expect..."

"You didn't expect to be swept off to the demon realm?" Shang Qinghua asked, finishing the thought for him. When the teenager nodded, he felt the urge to pat that bowed head. But he was still tiny, meaning it was well out of reach. "Well, we may as well take advantage of the chance. Mind giving this old man a ride to the other room? We can use the desk there. Just let me get my socks on."

"Would you like this disciple to help put up your hair?" Shi Wuyou asked, glancing him over as he latched onto the scrap of normality and used it to regain his composure. "If my fingers aren't too large."

"Oh, ah, no, I can handle that myself." He cleared his throat, ignoring the hair thing for a bit longer so he could pull his socks on. They were still inside, so his boots weren't needed, but warming charm or not, he didn't like a cold floor. And tiny and disreputable or not, he was still a peak lord and had standards!

But it was mostly about the cold floors. And ignoring the crown once he'd put it down again.

Of course, the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way hated its father and he wasn't allowed to ignore the thing for long because Shi Wuyou picked it up to peer at. "This is very pretty, Shizun. Did the demon give it to you?"

Cheeks burning, Shang Qinghua quickly tied his hair up and held the bun in place while reaching for the crown. He could have asked the teenager to grab a silver one from the box, but... Well, he wasn't sure. It just didn't feel right. The crown was handed to him and he slid it into place and fixed it with the silver pin. He would think about how final that felt later. "Ah, yes. At least I think so. I had a silver one, but I think he swapped them while I was getting ready to wash up. Now, what were you working on when my king brought you?"

Somehow, he ended up not even thinking about what Binghe's additions to the letter were.

Chapter Text

Mobei-Jun didn't return until dinner, the first sign that he was near being the solid ice that was keeping the door solidly shut melting away with a crackling sound. Shi Wuyou watched it in fascination while Shang Qinghua straightened up from where he'd been kneeling on the desk to face the door. He'd decided that he was going to tell his king off for kidnapping his disciple without warning, and squared up his shoulders to do just that.

Trouble with plans is they never survived contact. And as the door swung open and Mobei-Jun walked in, the demon's eyes zeroed in on him. On the sapphire crown adorning his hair. And the look he gave upon meeting Shang Qinghua's eyes blew any plans about scolding him out of his mind. Or plans about speaking. Or thinking. He swallowed, mouth drying up.

When Mobei-Jun looked away from him to give his disciple a (significantly cooler) glance, it felt like a physical loss and he had to keep himself from gasping out loud.

"You will return tomorrow," Mobei-Jun said to the teenager, the order clear in his voice. "Be more ready then."

"If it is to help my shizun, of course," Shi Wuyou said with a nod, bowing. "Thank you for allowing this disciple to help today."

Mobei-Jun nodded his head and reached out to grab hold of the teenager by the back of his robes, leaving Shi Wuyou to scramble to grab the finished documents before they vanished in a swirl of shadows. Leaving the peak lord alone in the wake of a huge emotional tidal wave... again.

But this time, the demon didn't stay gone. He was back before Shang Qinghua could even think about spiraling, clawed fingers already reaching for him as Mobei finished stepping out of the shadows. They curled around him and scooped him up from the desk and he stared up into icy blue eyes as they stole his breath away again.

"You wore it," Mobei said, his voice almost breathless. With anyone else, it would have been. "You accept?"

The author swallowed. If he'd wondered what Mobei was hinting at before, that voice and the look in his eyes that went with it went a long way in pushing that edge of doubt away.

"Don't you usually court someone a while before giving one of these?" Shang Qinghua asked faintly, reaching up to touch the crown he wore.

Mobei-Jun raised an eyebrow, the blunt edge of a claw brushing over the silks that the author wore.

And suddenly he was pretty sure that he'd proven himself to be especially stupid for not noticing. Upon his arrival, Mobei had immediately dressed him in his colors, given him gifts, protected him. Brought him to his chambers to sleep. The way he'd reacted when another, possibly stronger, demon was nearby.

"For how long?" he asked, licking dry lips.

"Years," Mobei-Jun said. "This king was foolish in not seeking out human courting methods earlier. Humans... are softer. Qinghua deserved softer."

As his brain spun trying to figure out what the ice demon meant, a somewhat recent memory floated to the surface. Of his son asking for flirting advice. And Mobei-Jun telling him to beat the person he wanted three times a day. Binghe had told him to shut up after that, but reflecting now...

"Have you always been flirting with me?" Shang Qinghua asked with a squeak, his eyes going wide. Because they'd known each other for over forty years, and Mobei had been regularly handing it to him pretty much all the way up until their fight. The way that the demon looked away, the tips of his ears tinting blue, told him all he needed to know. "You could have said something!"

"This king knows," Mobei-Jun said, his tone as close to apologetic as he'd ever heard. A king did not often have need to apologize after all. "He hopes that Qinghua will forgive him for his actions."

Shang Qinghua swallowed, wrapping his arms around one of the fingers that held him. "I..." The words didn't want to come out past the lump in his throat, especially when he was raised up to eye level with his king. He tried multiple times, but they kept getting caught in his throat.

"If Qinghua needs time, it will be granted," the demon said softly.

He nodded his head, feeling some of that weight of urgency lift up off his shoulders. But when Mobei brought him down to the desk and tried to open his hand to free him, the author held on, making his demon pause in confusion.

"I'm not saying no," the author said quickly. "I'm not saying yes either! But... you can court me. Directly, this time. Convince me this is a good idea. And I'm keeping the crown."

Mobei-Jun studied him silently for a moment before lifting him to his chest and holding him close. It was nice. Even if Shang Qinghua had to remind himself to behave despite those pecs being right there.

"This Mobei-Jun will decorate your head with more of them once you grow enough to bear their weight," the demon said. "If he has not convinced you by then, then he will have failed as a suitor."

As if Mobei could fail at anything, he thought. The only exceptions involved his son's protagonist halo, which wasn't Mobei's fault. Rather, it was the fault of the man being held in his hands right then. The same one that he, somehow, wanted to marry? Which made so little sense to Shang Qinghua, but how could he really turn it down? The idea of saying no to his favorite creation was one that made his stomach twist, but could he really just believe that he was going to get his own version of a happy ending? He wasn't Cucumber!

"Can you-" He stopped himself, not sure if it was a good idea to ask. But he really wanted to. No, he'd earned this! Shang Qinghua pushed the words out as fast as he could, not giving himself time enough to doubt and stop again. "Can you kiss me?" Though of course it came out more like "Canyoukissme?"

Mobei-Jun's irises narrowed to a tiny ring of blue as his eyes flew wide and Shang Qinghua almost retracted his reckless question before he was swiftly lifted up higher and lips covered his own to keep him from speaking. Covered his whole face, but still made him gasp against them. They were cool, which was to be expected, but soft, and he tried not to groan as he leaned in to try and kiss that beautiful mouth back. He doubted Mobei could even feel it, but he could feel it. Oh and how.

He was only able to bring himself to push back when the need for air rose up. His face was flushed and burning, and it was satisfying to see the blue tinge in the other man's face and know that he wasn't the only one. And as tempting as it was to lean in for another kiss, no matter how strange it was with their difference in size, Shang Qinghua knew that if he did, the idea of waiting to really decide would just get tossed right out the window, and he wanted to be able to think about it with a clear head.

"Thank you, my king," he murmured, sure that he'd be heard with how close they were. "We... we should get something to eat. Before bed."

"Qinghua still wishes to sleep in this king's bed?" Mobei asked, his voice rumbling through Shang Qinghua's body and making him shiver.

It was a bad idea. He really should ask for a divider or something, or even just for his pillow bed to be placed someplace other than directly beside where Mobei laid his head at night. But the idea of separating after wishing he could sleep beside him for years left a sour taste in his mind. No way was he giving that up so soon!

So Shang Qinghua nodded his head before his demon could take his pause as having second thoughts. "I sleep better near my king."

Mobei-Jun didn't say anything in response, but gently brushed the side of his finger over the author's cheek. Shang Qinghua smiled, leaning into the tender touch. The thought of actually getting this, actually being with his king, still scared him. (What if it didn't last? What if Mobei got tired of him or found someone better? Would he turn away from him too?) But his king was making the risk feel more and more worth it.

Of course, with his luck a perfect moment like this couldn't last, his stomach choosing right then to loudly interrupt, reminding him that they'd skipped lunch and still hadn't yet had dinner.

Shang Qinghua's cheeks burned as Mobei's face turned amused as he, finally, set the cultivator down on the desk. "Ah, right. Dinner. We should eat dinner. Did my king already arrange some to be brought, or do you need to go call for it? This serv- this master I mean, would do it but, ha ha, he's still a little small to go ordering servants around. We can eat here, right? Don't have to go to the family dining room because of my king's guests or anything? Not that they're particularly good guests because they both showed up without invitation or warning and then got grabby, but they are kinda important ones all the same."

"They can attend to themselves," Mobei-Jun said with a twitch of annoyance. The kind that Shang Qinghua knew said that the pair were lucky that it would cause too much trouble if he killed them. Reluctantly, he added, "We will have to attend to them for breakfast."

He grimaced. Now that they both knew about his condition, and might even want to see him, hiding away would be more difficult. "Nothing for it. You'll help them remember to keep their hands to themselves, right?"

"Qinghua will remain with this king the entire meal," Mobei-Jun said with a determined nod, his eyes glinting with threat. "There will be no handling."

"Yes, good. Even if they didn't hurt this one, it's very scary being grabbed like that when you don't know someone's intentions, especially when even my little disciples could break my ribs with just a squeeze," Shang Qinghua rambled. "Not that they would! My disciples are good kids who love their shizun. But kids can be clumsy sometimes, you know? Not like my king of course."

"Mn. This king promised never to hurt Qinghua again," Mobei said with grave seriousness. As if to make his point, he used extra care with nudging the cultivator towards his chair. "Sit. Food will be brought."

That was good. Very good. Because Shang Qinghua didn't want Mobei going anywhere at the moment. Not when he was still processing such a huge bombshell.

Well, two bombshells. First and obviously more important, the fact that his king wanted to marry him and had wanted to marry him for a while. Second, the problem that there were now more people who knew about his condition, and ones who were, frankly, outside of Shang Qinghua's list of people he trusted. Sure, they probably wouldn't do anything too bad to him if they did get their hands on him again, but he didn't know if they'd keep their mouths shut about it! Tianlang-Jun had a big love of drama, and Sha Hualing just didn't like him! (He'd poke at being called cute... later. Honestly, he wasn't sure if being liked by that particular demoness was a good or bad thing. Good for the whole state of his skin, at least.)

He took his time sitting down slowly, only resisting the urge to reach up and touch the crown around his hair for a minute before giving in and taking it down just so he could look at it. Shang Qinghua didn't remember writing the tradition of betrothal beads into Proud Immortal Demon Way, but then again he hadn't really written a lot about the courtships of the Mobei clan, because he'd never planned a romance for his king. Even in the notes and drafts that were never intended to go into publication. It was just for him.

Even when it'd all been fiction, he hadn't wanted to share his ideal man.

A feeling of guilt swirled in his gut at the reminder. He'd created Mobei-Jun to his tastes. Would it even be ethical to say yes?

There was a touch on his shoulder and he looked up to see his king leaning over him, hair spilling around his shoulders to curtain then away from the rest of the room. Damn, how had he created someone so pretty?

"Did you want something, my king?" Shang Qinghua asked, blinking up at him.

Many things, Mobei's eyes seemed to say. But his mouth settled for less. "Qinghua has something on his mind."

The author laughed shallowly. When didn't he have something on his mind? "My king shouldn't be surprised about that by now."

"No. But Qinghua should not be running his schemes right now."

"Surely you know by now that I'm always working on one scheme or another," Shang Qinghua said, latching onto the excuse to talk about something else than what he'd been thinking about. Without lying to Mobei. "Even if I'm not able to keep my hands directly in it at the moment. I'm still doing what I can to support and protect my king."

Mobei frowned, narrowing his eyes. "When?"

"When?" The author blinked. "When what?"

"When is Qinghua working on them?" the demon asked. "He is meant to be staying secret."

"I am, I am! Everything I've done has been through my assistant, I promise my king!" he hurried to assure him. "He's the one passing anything I need passed on to other members of my staff, with the explanation that he's been sworn to secrecy about where I am because of an attempt on my life. Which is close enough to being true. And with your uncle staying out of sight while he recovers from the injuries you gave him, they'll likely draw their own conclusions about who might have tried to kill me without me having to try and frame anyone. Even if he'd deserve it, the asshole."

Listening to his human grumble that last part, Mobei relaxed once again, just in time for a faint knock on the door to signify that their food had been delivered. Instead of going to open the door like a normal person, of course, the demon stepped into the hall through the shadows, probably giving the poor servant a heart attack, before returning with the tray the same way.

"It isn't noodles," Mobei said as he set the tray down, almost an apology. Like one was needed! When the lid to the dish came off, Shang Qinghua's mouth watered. Maybe in part because they'd skipped the one meal, but also it just smelled good.

"My king, this servant doesn't just eat noodles!" Shang Qinghua laughed, slipping back into the old phrase out of habit. "You should know this, considering how often you showed up at dinner time and snitched things off my plate in the past. Though I guess I'm snitching things off yours, these days."

"Qinghua is not a servant," Mobei reminded him firmly, moving choice bits of meat and vegetable from his plate to the miniature dish he'd had made for the tiny human. "He is the future consort of the North. And nor is it 'snitching' when offered freely."

"Maybe future consort!" he reminded him, feeling the urge to squeak. "I haven't agreed yet!"

Mobei fixed him with a stubborn stare. He placed the dish on the little table. "Future consort. How far in the future, is up to Qinghua. Eat."

"It's probably my fault you grew up so spoiled," Shang Qinghua said with a pout, pretending that his face wasn't going red as he grabbed his miniature chopsticks to shove a large scrap of meat into his mouth. Just so he couldn't talk anymore. Mobei, of course, took that to mean he'd won the argument, a smug twist of his lips forming as he watched him.

"This king would spoil his intended if allowed."

"My king!"

That was a smirk. That was absolutely a smirk. What right did his king have to be so handsome while smirking?! Only roguish protagonists were supposed to get away with that, the kind that Qinghua was immune to because they weren't his type. Not sculpted ice kings who were 100% his living walking sexual fantasies! It wasn't fair!

Not that Mobei-Jun cared about fair. So, time for another subject change!

"Since my king didn't bring me to court today, I should know what was said," Shang Qinghua said quickly. Not only was it a very safe subject, bordering on boring half the time, but it was an important one too. If he didn't have his own ears on everything, he absolutely needed to know what Mobei had heard. Maybe he could get his king to bring a bug with him.

(A frosted listening beetle in this case. He'd written about a couple different breeds of them throughout Proud Immortal Demon Way, gotten roasted by Cucumber for shoehorning in some obvious spy things right after a Bond movie had come out, but they were cool! They had to be carried into place, because they only worked if you turned their wings into earrings. Of course, they didn't live all that long so it was a battle of keeping them fresh and removing the old ones so you didn't have dead beetles all over the place. Bingge had married the daughter of a breeder of course, so he used them to listen in for plots, or to eavesdrop on the harem.)

Whether or not the ice demon saw right through his ploy, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a sheaf of papers, setting them down carefully beside his plate. Without getting up, Shang Qinghua couldn't quite see what was written, but he recognized his king's handwriting and felt his stomach make a little flip. Mobei had taken notes for him?

Admittedly, not all the notes were particularly useful. His king was smart, yes, but didn't have much experience with listening for the kinds of things that Shang Qinghua did. A sloth demon whose clan had moved north petitioning to use some of the hot springs owned by the royal family. Denied. A fruit merchant bringing up a complaint about bandits on the trade route. Passed on to an officer in the room. (The officer in charge of rations, to be accurate. Which... was kind of related? But he had very little involvement in troop movements. He was suspicious that Mobei grabbed the first one he spotted for the job.) A lower ranked cousin delivering their annual tribute. Late, but complete. And forgivable considering the disruptions caused by the change of crown. A few challenges for power.

Mobei seemed more interested in those as he described them, including whether the offender lived, was maimed, or merely humiliated. But when he got to the last one, he only scowled.

"The coward withdrew his claims before this king could stand," he said, frowning.

"What kind of claims, my king?" Shang Qinghua asked, holding his tea in his hands to warm his fingers. The food had long since been polished off, and Mobei had brewed him a warm cup of tea to sip. Knowing that he liked to stay sharp while getting reports, so wine was out. Especially demon realm wine.

Mobei-Jun snorted. "Complaints that this king surrendered to conquering too quickly, that he serves a half breed."

"Ha. I'd like to see them stand up to Binghe for two seconds. Then they can whine about my king not throwing his life away," Shang Qinghua scoffed. He'd warned Mobei that he would lose, and to accept it when it arrived. Mobei had followed his advice, no matter how much it must have stung. "But those are nothing new, are they?"

"No." But the demon's scowl deepened. "Nor were their accusations of following human orders."

The author stared before letting out a snort of his own. "I think they mixed up who is the king and who serves them. You follow my advice, but only because you know I'm loyal to you and always suggest things that serve you and your kingdom."

"They demanded this king prove himself by offering Qinghua to the courts."

Shang Qinghua blinked. "Huh."

Not long ago, that would have scared Shang Qinghua. Because not that long ago, he was still unsure if Mobei intended to someday kill him, especially in the turmoil of Luo Binghe's return from the Abyss and conquering of the demon realm. But hearing it now... He found it didn't frighten him. Because he knew that Mobei-Jun would never hand him over to anyone. Much less a group of demons who would surely kill him. And wasn't that a nice change.

"Well, no wonder they thought you served me. Because they seem to think you serve them too," he said flatly, feeling himself grow offended for Mobei's sake. Just who was the ruler of this kingdom, huh? "Should I assume that they're dead and their head is being displayed on the outer walls as we speak?"

Mobei shook his head, looking particularly displeased about the fact that he had to. "Wu Yuanzhi is of my father's court. It... would look poorly upon this king if he was slain at this time."

"So he gets away with insulting my king in front of the whole court," Shang Qinghua summarized. He knew that name from somewhere, didn't he? "Once I'm back in control of my staff, we'll see that he's uncomfortable in his position." Uncomfortable meaning he'd fall from power faster than the Old Palace Master, and then spend the rest of his miserable life in an icy oubliette. With spikes.

"If you wish," Mobei said, his posture relaxing as he looked down at him. He did not intend to make any secret over his pleasure when Qinghua showed his more violent side. Particularly in his service to him.

"I do wish! You don't get to go around insulting my favorite and just get away with it!" he said, smacking his hands on top of the miniature table and pushing himself up onto his feet. "Especially not some nobody who lives and breathes because he was around when the old king had checked out too much to care about what was going on in his courts!"

Mobei smiled slowly. His favorite? There had not been a question of his place as the one that Qinghua was loyal to, and clearly by the fact that he hadn't said no to being courted, he also had a place in his affections, but such blatant phrasing made the demon want to preen.

"This king knows Qinghua will avenge his name," Mobei said with a purr that made the hairs on the back of Shang Qinghua's neck stand up. "Just as this king will protect his intended."

Flustered enough to knock the wind right out of his sail, the author tried not to squirm where he stood, busying himself with gathering up his dishes. One side of his brain wanted to do whatever it took to bring out that purr again because oh heavens. The other part was pretty sure that he'd die if Mobei ever made that sound again. His dignity would be dead either way. So long, barely knew you.

"Ah... yes. Yes of course," he said. All too quickly he saw that there wasn't really anything else he could do with the dishes, even so much as to bring to a basin for washing. Which Mobei made clear by plucking them up between two fingers to move out of the way before he offered a hand to his human. "My king?"

"Come. We should settle for the evening."

Shang Qinghua swallowed, stepping onto the open hand, taking hold of a finger as they curved up to provide him with a nest. "But it's not all that late."

"We will read. There is more to the book," Mobei said. He carried the author away from the desk and into the bedroom where he was delivered to the little table that'd sort of become Shang Qinghua's dressing room. "Change. This king wishes for you to be comfortable."

Who's comfortable?! Take pity on this poor Millennial! Shang Qinghua cried in his head, his cheeks still red as he hurried through taking down his hair and ducking behind his clothing box to change into his sleeping robes. He was trying not to just say 'yes my king' and marry him without a second thought, and his king was not making it easy!

He worked his brain to find something else, anything else to talk about other than Mobei's suit. They'd already gone over court, the situation with his condition hadn't changed (knowing the name of the flower didn't help), and nothing else had really changed since Mobei had left him to attend-

"My king?" Shang Qinghua asked, speaking up from behind his clothing box, taking the time to shake out the wrinkles in his robes and fold them properly so they'd be wearable again the next day. "When you left me with Shi Wuyou, afternoon court wasn't for another few hours. What were you doing until then?"

Mobei didn't answer, and he could hear the sound of a body sliding between sheets. Which just made a person like him suspicious. He peeked around the box, double checking that Mobei was covered up, and got an eyeful of gorgeous pecs. Covered in still healing bruises and scratches. Only then did he realize that Mobei's robes had been slightly more closed than usual, covering more skin. He'd been hiding them.

"My king!" he squawked, dashing from behind the box. "You're injured! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"It is minor," Mobei said, picking him up from the back of his sleeping robes when he'd tried to scramble over onto the bed, and depositing the human directly on his chest. Allowing his future consort to fuss over him. "Qinghua should not worry."

"Qinghua is going to worry, you big idiot!" the author shot back, kneeling down in reach of the worst of the scratches. Clearly made by claws, and by claws on a human-like hand at that. "You said none of the challenges were serious!"

"They were not. This king's bruises were worse at the beginning of court."

"You got them before court?" Shang Qinghua's eyes narrowed and he stood up carefully to stare up at his king to repeat his earlier question. "What were you doing before court? Don't ignore me this time."

Mobei snorted. "This king spoke with the former Junshang and Sha Hualing."

"Spoke," the author said flatly, not believing for a second that Mobei had had many actual words. Tianlang-Jun, maybe. Man liked to chat even while dishing out damage. Sha Hualing just as much. Mobei... not as likely.

"This king demanded an apology for his treatment of Qinghua," the demon amended. "One will be delivered when we attend them as hosts tomorrow."

"And all of this?" Shang Qinghua asked, pointedly kneeling by the scratches again and laying hands on his king to begin guiding his qi into the flesh around them to help guide them into healing. He wasn't a doctor like Mu Qingfang, but he'd patched both of them up enough that he had a pretty good idea of what he was doing. (One Mu Qingfang had reluctantly agreed, but also insisted on being seen regardless. Shang Qinghua usually ignored that order.) "Ripping into someone verbally is usually just a figure of speech." Above him, Mobei's jaw tightened. Which was all the answer he needed. "My king, swatting down the court lords for being mouthy is one thing, but Saintess Sha is your ally! And Tianlang-Jun is..."

"Not the strongest this king has fought before," Mobei finished. "The fight went well."

"I'll show you 'went well,'" Shang Qinghua muttered under his breath, moving through the scratches before going to the worst of the bruises. It hadn't escaped his notice that there were suspiciously no unhealed injuries in the areas of skin that Mobei's clothing hadn't covered. Since he doubted the other two demons had just avoided those areas, Mobei had focused his mending on them specifically. To hide them from him? Or, maybe a little more charitably, from the members of the court. So they wouldn't have another thing to pick at him for. His king wasn't a heavenly demon, who could have healed everything with little more than a flex of will and power, so he couldn't heal everything so quickly, but he still mended faster than even a cultivator. Which Shang Qinghua was super jealous of.

He gave his king's chest a little swat once he was satisfied that Mobei-Jun was properly on the mend and that scarring wouldn't be likely. Nothing was allowed to mar that perfect chest, thank you very much!

"No more challenging dangerous demons for my honor," he scolded, looking up at him and puffing his cheeks out at just how amused his king looked. He gave him another swat. "Now where's that book?"

It took him a few pages of reading out loud to calm himself down, taking the distraction of the story and running with it. He could probably write a more interesting story though. Sure, there was plenty of adventure, but barely any descriptions of the characters. No romance either! Even though the prince and his servant clearly had chemistry. Which he started pointing out between scenes, getting all too comfortable. Shang Qinghua barely even noticed that he'd stretched out on his king's chest, using a swell of muscle as a backrest.

This time, his king didn't wait for the author's throat to grow raw before closing the book and moving it out of reach, making his human sputter to a stop mid paragraph. "Hey!"

"More tomorrow," Mobei-Jun promised, setting the book aside. His hand came back to lay over the cultivator on his chest, holding him in place. "It is late. Qinghua should rest now."

"That would be easier doing on my bed," he argued, feeling his embarrassment rising up all over again. When did his king get so forward?! Was it because he'd finally made his intentions clear? How was he supposed to survive more than a few days of that without getting full on harem member seduced, huh? He didn't even stand a chance!

"This king will sleep better with Qinghua close," the ice demon countered as he slid down to lay flat on the bed, making no move to allow Shang Qinghua to move over onto his pillow. He sent out a flare of demonic qi to extinguish the night pearls that had been softly lighting the room, plunging them into darkness.

Shang Qinghua tried to wiggle his way free, but ultimately he didn't have a chance. Even when he was his proper size, Mobei was so much stronger than him. Tiny, and he might as well have been a mouse trying to move a panther paw. Or maybe a hamster. It was not going to happen. He let out a huff, squirming enough that he could curl on his side under strong fingers, listening to Mobei's heart beneath him.

As he drifted towards sleep, he couldn't help but feel like there was something he was forgetting. Oh, whatever. He'd probably remember it in the morning.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua didn't remember anything in the morning, because the moment he opened his eyes, his mind went completely and utterly blank. And for good reason.

He'd obviously moved a little in his sleep. Not far, Mobei's pec still serving as a pillow under his head, but just far enough that his head was directly on his king's nipple, so the first thing he saw was the raised nub right in front of his face. When he gasped, the warm air escaping his mouth made the thing stiffen even more, in the opposite effect as a human's and he had to chew his cheek to keep from biting it.

Mobei's hand gently rubbed over his back in a repetitive, kind of firm but soothing way. And it took a while to notice two very important things. First, that his king was still sleeping, and second, that he wasn't just rubbing his back. He was rocking him, against that nipple. While asleep.

There was no coming back from that. Remembering anything was not going to happen.

Face burning, he tried to escape the fingers, only for Mobei to flatten his hand over him, cutting off all routes of exit. Wiggling for freedom only made the demon's breath catch. And then it got worse. Mobei began to purr.

When he'd made the note that Mobei clan ice demons could purr, it'd been halfway a joke, and halfway a little fantasy of his own. Not, as he felt that chest vibrate beneath him, there was no joke, and he shivered, curling his legs in to try and keep his king from feeling the hard-on he was quickly developing. As if it'd suddenly wake him up.

"M-my king?" he stammered, peering through the gaps in Mobei's fingers. Of course, at this angle all he could see was the ceiling beyond.

Mobei-Jun barely stirred, his hand still a heavy blanket over Shang Qinghua's back. If anything, he seemed to hold him closer to his chest, obviously not minding the beacon of heat that the human's face had to be by now.

He tried to force his arm through the gap in fingers so he could swat at the demon's hand, trying anything to wake him up shy of actually trying to attack. Not that that would do all that much to help him either! And he couldn't make himself do something as bad as twist the nipple he was held to. Or even try to.

"My king, wake up!" he called, raising his voice as he grew desperate. Any more of this and he was going to do something disgraceful against his sleeping king. "Mobei!"

Finally, his king's breathing changed, and the rubbing stopped before the demon's hand lifted off, leaving Shang Qinghua flustered and exposed as he stared up at him. "...Qinghua?"

Still red-faced, Shang Qinghua caught his breath. "Since when is my king such a heavy sleeper, huh? Do you know what you were doing while you were asleep?!"

"This king does not," Mobei-Jun said. He looked adorably sleepy and ruffled in a way that was so utterly unfair after everything he'd put his poor human through. He sat up slowly, cupping a hand behind the author to keep him from rolling down his body. "Qinghua should use my name more often."

Oh no, he was not distracting him that easily! Shang Qinghua climbed up his chest until he could grab onto that sculpted chin and pull Mobei's face down to look at him. Before he could lose his nerve. And even if his king looked silly going almost cross-eyed to focus on him, he had a scolding to deliver!

"You don't get away with teasing me like that just because you were asleep!" he lectured, indignation bringing his usually small pool of courage to the surface. "I will not just be seduced into saying yes just because you're too tempting and fucking beautiful to say no to, do you hear me?!"

Far from looking chastised, Mobei-Jun took a long breath before focusing in on his tiny human even more intensely as he woke fully. "Qinghua is aroused."

Shang Qinghua froze, his eyes wide as he abruptly jerked back, sputtering wordlessly. "M-my king! You can't just say things like that!"

The demon looked him over slowly, and the cultivator could feel those eyes run over him from head to toe like an icy burn. It left him feeling more exposed than if he'd been physically stripped bare for his king's viewing. "Qinghua," Mobei said, enunciating each word, "Was the one who climbed this king's face."

"That- that's beside the point!"

"This king knows his Qinghua will not be seduced so easily," Mobei said with a soft snort. He wrapped his fingers around the other man, moving him to the bed beside him so he could fully sit up, running a hand through his hair. And looking unfairly good while he did it.

Meaning that Shang Qinghua was rather quickly distracted from the complaint he'd had. Yell at Mobei? Why yell when you could stare at him first thing in the morning?

Wait, no, he was trying not to be seduced! Gah!

He quickly looked away, finger combing out his hair as he made his way over to his dressing area. If he kept his mind off of what Mobei looked like shirtless, then he could get rid of the blush before he had to see anyone. Specifically the two demons they, unfortunately, had to go have breakfast with.

Of course, being that it was those two... he couldn't lean into the desire to just throw on whatever robes were on hand and call it good. Not that he had any that were particularly what he'd call 'every day' robes. All he had was what Mobei-Jun had given him, and his king had been dressing him up. (Like a pet, he'd thought. But now? With the context he knew now? Like a lord showing off his lady. And didn't that just make him want to squirm.)

But regardless, dressing to impress was a must! He grabbed the nicest of the robes that Mobei had had made for him, wearing all the extra layers under them. The author had started to do up his hair before Mobei stopped him, setting down the little dish of oil for it beside him.

"For your hair," Mobei said, taking a comb to his own hair and tidying it from the night. Not that Mobei moved much to give him tangles in his sleep. And, of course, he used the same oils he'd provided his advisor on his own hair.

"You're not actually trying to make us smell the same so I blend in, are you?" he asked slowly, even as he used the oil. It certainly helped tame his hair and made it smoother regardless of Mobei's reason. And when the demon didn't respond, he decided to take it as basic confirmation that yep, his king was basically scent marking him. Which... was kind of sweet? If he tried to think about it from a demonic point of view rather than a human one. Just like the crown and the robes, Mobei was saying Shang Qinghua was under his protection at the least, and displaying his courtship at the most.

That thought made Shang Qinghua pause. Even before Mobei had actually verbally declared anything to him, he'd been covering him with signs of it, hadn't he? Signs that they'd shown off to his sect, to his assistant, to Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu, and now to more demon lords. So if there was a little smile on his lips as he slid the crown into place, then it was entirely justified.

Because Mobei wanted to show other people that he liked him. That he liked Shang Qinghua. Fuck what anyone else said. It was worth smiling about.

When he returned to normal and had the means, he was going to just shower his king with gifts in return. Assuming he told him yes. (Which he would, even if he hadn't admitted it to himself yet.)

"I'm ready, my king," he said, coming around the box.

Mobei was just fastening his cloak, a fine one of soft silk and the fur of a particularly rare and dangerous northern demon cat, around his shoulders, fixing the clasp in place before looking him over with a nod of approval. "Nearly. One thing more."

"Huh? I don't think I missed anything," Shang Qinghua said, looking down at himself and checking everything over. Nope, everything was in place.

To the author's surprise, instead of explaining, Mobei held up a finger to ask for a moment, cutting open a portal and vanishing inside. Leaving his confused advisor blinking at the spot where he'd been. He hadn't been left completely alone for a while, so he hadn't expected Mobei to just teleport away.

Since he obviously couldn't just walk to the dining room himself (and wouldn't go anywhere near their present company without Mobei even if he could), he took a seat and waited. When Mobei returned a few minutes later, it was with something in hand.

"My king, where did you go?" Shang Qinghua asked, rising up to his feet.

"To fetch something," Mobei-Jun said, opening his hand. There was a small wrapped package inside, shorter than the width of his palm. On approaching Shang Qinghua's dressing area where the human waited, he knelt down (!) and held it in his open hand while using the other to open the bundle.

It was a sword. Not his sword of course, or even a spiritual sword, but it'd been crafted to look like his discarded and lost blade, and he found himself having to swallow around a sudden lump in his throat.

"My king had a sword made for this one?" he asked, looking up at his king.

"Qinghua should not be unarmed," Mobei said with a nod, moving his hand closer. "This king hopes it will serve adequately for now."

Suddenly, the distance between them was too far. Grabbing the edge of Mobei's hand, Shang Qinghua hoisted himself up onto it and used it to run up his king's arm, taking the sword (sheathed) and hugging it to his chest as he charged for the demon until he was close enough to hug him too. Well, sort of hug. Mobei was just too big to really hug, but he sure made the effort! Because his king was just so- argh!

Startled, Mobei stared down at him with wide eyes before they softened and he scooped the human up to bring to his neck, which the author found much more huggable.

"Qinghua is pleased," his king surmised.

"You'd better fucking believe I'm pleased!" Shang Qinghua said, voice choked even as it was muffled against Mobei's throat where he had his face pressed. "Thank you, my king."

"Mn." Mobei nodded ever so slightly, just feeling the brush of hair and crown on the underside of his jaw as he did.

The author stayed there for a minute longer, part in joy and part because it was a very nice place to be, before reluctantly pushing himself away and shifting back more into the hand steadying him. "We should get going. Before they come looking for us. Or start plotting together."

Mobei snorted but nodded, cradling Shang Qinghua more securely in his hand. Instead of tucking him onto his shoulder once more for transport, he opened a shadow portal and stepped through directly into the family dining room. Where the other two were already waiting. Thankfully not sitting too close together, so they probably hadn't been plotting, and were even less likely flirting. (Sha Hualing didn't mind older men, but going after a man's father after he rejected you would just be humiliating. And awkward. Besides, she had two pretty cultivators of her own didn't she?)

Tianlang-Jun barely shifted from his comfortable recline when they entered the room, giving the pair a lazy nod. He didn't look altogether entirely awake, and hadn't bothered with any sort of dressing up, going for a look that was distinctly 'comfortable.' Sha Hualing... well, she rarely deviated, except to throw on an extra cloak because the northern climate really didn't agree with her southern blood. But what did change was where she'd usually been annoyed whenever the human walked into the room, she perked up in interest this time.

Unfortunately for Shang Qinghua, that interest felt distinctly like a cat had spotted a dancing red dot, and he was the dot.

"Finally! Beibei, did you two stay up all night last night?" the Saintess asked, eyes flashing as they fixed on the flash of sparkling blue in Shang Qinghua's hair. "Ah ha. So maybe you really did~"

Mobei-Jun narrowed his eyes as his human turned pink and held his hands up to try and deny the fact, all the while Tianlang-Jun leaned in closer to get a look at what the younger woman had meant. And grinned.

But Shang Qinghua wasn't about to let that man open his mouth considering the kinds of things he knew he'd brought up to their son and in-law! "It's not like that! I haven't said yes yet!"

"But that means little Mobei has asked," the former emperor said, eyes dancing. "I hope our little meet-up yesterday didn't mess up a romantic walk together. A stroll with a hidden lover through the dangers of a demon palace. I suppose that makes it even more lucky that I'm such a friendly demon, or your little-"

"Enough," Mobei growled. "Do not tease Qinghua."

"Don't be so grumpy, Beibei," Sha Hualing said, rolling her eyes. "This Ling-er could see even yesterday that you were doting on him. You've just gone and made it more obvious this morning." Getting an idea, she perked up. "You should let me watch him while you're busy today. I can tell him all about demon weddings and we can start planning. That Shen Qingqiu cheated me out on all the preparation by eloping with Lord Luo, but Beibei wouldn't do that to a friend, right?"

Shang Qinghua flushed, pushing himself further into Mobei's hands. "Excuse me? We're nowhere near planning any weddings and even if we were, I don't need a babysitter!"

The Saintess, of course, completely ignored him. "Is that tailor of yours still here? Bianzhi Zhizhu? I'll have to speak with her to get some nice outfits made. A-Ying says that humans wear red for weddings. I bet all you've given him has been blue, hasn't it? For someone who walks through shadows, you're hardly subtle. But then again, A-Ming says that the members of this generation of peak lords just must be oblivious or something, so maybe that's why things took too long. You were beating him three times a day, weren't you?"

The cultivator blanched at the reminder and shot a nervous glance up at his king. But Mobei's face had turned stony at the reminder of what he'd realized far too late was not a good idea for showing a human you were fond of them.

Thankfully (somehow?), it was Tianlang-Jun who came to the rescue this time. "No, no, that's not how humans court. Humans court with sweet nothings and poetry, gifts and outings. My Xiyan loved listening to my poetry, and then she'd tear it apart with her criticism." He let out a dreamy sign. "Ah, memories."

"A-Ying and A-Ming like fighting with this Ling-er," Sha Hualing argued. "They're human too. So you must have just met a weird one."

Shang Qinghua stared up at her, worry somehow going on pause as he snorted. "Liu Mingyan's older brother literally holds the title of War God and he challenged Luo Binghe almost daily for years. And in case you missed it, most of Qing Jing got much more into fighting around the same time. I'm not the weird one for not liking it!"

Glancing down at him, Sha Hualing dismissed his claim with a little huff. "You're both weird. At least you won't ruin it for anyone else since you matched up together. Now, about your tailor."

The author pressed his palms over his eyes with a groan. Why had he thought writing such a child into her position would be a good idea?

By the time they escaped from the social demands of the meal, Shang Qinghua didn't think his feet had touched the table more than half a dozen times, because every time his king set him down, Sha Hualing was reaching for him, meaning that his king scooped him up almost immediately once again. Why she was being so grabby, he had no idea! Since when did the demoness even like being in the same room as him, much less wanting to actually pick him up!? Was it because of the crown? Was she trying to butter him up so Mobei could be convinced to give her something? It didn't make sense!

He was just glad that Tianlang-Jun appeared to have gotten his fill of the grabbing, though that didn't mean he was spared any teasing from the other man. Especially since the former emperor had apparently decided to compare them to every moment of his courtship with Su Xiyan. (Which... he may have had one or two points about, but that was just because he'd given both Tianlang-Jun and Binghe the same taste in partners as he had!)

Maybe he wasn't actually in danger from them at the moment, but it was still a huge relief when his king stood up from the table, giving the pair only the bare courtesy of a nod, and carried them through a portal out of the family dining room. Escape!

When they emerged again, Shang Qinghua immediately recognized the comforting smell of his office, with paper and ink and his favorite incense the dominant scents. He took the time to inhale slowly, tension draining from his shoulders before he'd even opened his eyes.

Of course, once he did, it was clear where that tension had drained off to. Because they weren't alone in the office. Of course they weren't alone.

Both his head disciple and assistant were already there, eyeing each other from opposite sides of the room. Neither looked injured as he glanced between them, so they hadn't fought, which was good! But it was pretty damn obvious that they didn't trust each other either.

At least he knew the reason for Mobei's errand that morning.

"Uh... I didn't expect to see you both here," Shang Qinghua said slowly before turning around to look up at his king for an explanation.

"Qinghua can do his work for his sect and the Northern Kingdom today," Mobei-Jun said as if it was the most logical thing in the world. "Should anything need to be brought, his assistant will bring it while his disciple guards him. No one else will be allowed inside save for this king." He paused, looking down at his human with narrowed eyes. "See that he breaks to eat at midday."

Glancing at his fox demon counterpart, Shi Wuyou bowed to his shizun and the demon king holding him. "This disciple will keep his shizun safe."

"And this assistant will make sure Lord Shang has access to everything he needs," Hu Wenshi said quickly, following suit.

The author raised his hands up as he was gently deposited on the desk, trying not to laugh at how earnest they were both being. Like they were competing to be favorite or something silly like that. "Okay, okay, I'm sure I can find work for both of you. It's not like we don't usually have a much bigger crew."

Mobei-Jun looked at them with narrowed eyes. "If any harm comes to him, your clans will never hear from you again."

His disciple nodded in agreement even as his assistant blanched at the threat. And he was the one who would be running errands. Well, it wasn't as though he didn't already know the fox demon was the nervous sort. Too bad it would be too conspicuous to send Shi Wuyou instead. But a human cultivator, especially a young one, stood out like a sore thumb in the demon palace.

"My king..." Shang Qinghua sighed. Nope, there was probably no helping it if his king decided to be over protective. Around their 'guests' and the other lords, it made sense. But these were his own little minions! Trust him to have some decent sense in who he kept nearby. "Alright, thank you for bringing us all here. But my king will be late for morning court if he lingers too long."

Mobei snorted, clearly stating that the court began only when the king arrived. And he could therefore never be late. But he nevertheless left through a portal, even if it was only after touching Shang Qinghua's cheek in a lingering caress.

Hu Wenshi blinked with surprise. Not because he hadn't already known that their king had affections for his human cultivator, but because he was finally showing it more obviously. It was only a moment later that he noticed the change in what crown his master wore.

"Ad-Advisor Shang?" he sputtered, staring at it with widening eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Shi Wuyou asked, curiosity and caution about his shizun overriding his distrust of the other aid (a rival!) to the older man.

The fox demon pointed at the blue bead acting as a guan atop Shang Qinghua's head, sparkling in the light. "That!"

The human teenager didn't exactly roll his eyes, but he sure looked like he wanted to. "Shizun's guan? It's pretty and a bit unusual, I admit, but does it really warrant such a strong reaction?"

"Are you blind? It's a Mobei clan betrothal bead!"

"Shizun? You're getting married?!"

Shang Qinghua covered his face with his hands. Was this part of Mobei's plan? Have enough people go off about the damn bead until he gave in and said yes just so they could announce it to everyone and be done with it?

"I haven't said yes yet!" he insisted. Fuck, how many times was he going to be saying that? How many times would he be able to convince himself of it either? "So maybe? But not for sure! My king just asked if he could court me, that's all!"

Hu Wenshi raised an eyebrow, ears twitching as he looked down at his master doubtfully. "Lord Shang, hasn't his majesty been courting you for years?"

He pointed a finger up at the fox. "You, hush. Not in any way that a normal human would recognize." Not in any way that he was going to acknowledge either. "And no word about this gets out either. Not to the other assistants, and-" Shang Qinghua turned his stare to his disciple. "-not to anyone in the sect. Understood?"

The pair of them swore to it quickly, exchanging glances over his head. Well, at least they had something in common to get along with now. Even if it was keeping his weird romantic life a secret and out of the hands of the rumor mills. He was sure it'd get found out eventually, but he'd like to have time to actually think about it first! And maybe see about preparing a statement or something for the sect so he could explain it once and be done with it.

If only he was so lucky.

"Alright, let's get to work," Shang Qinghua said after another sigh. "This master doesn't fancy bouncing back and forth between the sect and the north with every document, so let's handle Northern Desert matters first, and An Ding after lunch. Nothing will get sent back to the peak until Mobei takes you home this evening anyway, Shi Wuyou." Getting nods of agreement from both of them, Shang Qinghua stretched his fingers and walked over to his miniature desk, where someone had already laid out his brushes and sheets of cut down papers. "Ink and the court notes from last session, please."

-

Sha Hualing wasn't pouting. She really wasn't! She was... focusing on the unfairness of her friend (and they were friends, whether Mobei liked it or not) in regards to his little pet human. How could he keep him all to himself like that when he was all small and cute! The Saintess probably wouldn't have described herself as having a weakness for little things in the past, but A-Ying was right about them! And Mobei wouldn't let her play with him!

Maybe she could understand it a little, considering the shockingly obvious 'mine' signs he'd plastered all over the little peak lord, particularly that damn bead, but still! It wasn't like she was planning to steal the human away and marry him herself after all! He was cute, but she had standards! She just wanted to mess with him a little. Maybe see what he'd look like in wedding red.

Trouble was getting near him without his king looming behind him like an overprotective demon bear mother. Like now! Mobei was still in morning court, and had even said that he'd be eating there to finish some things over the midday break. But! If he'd hidden his human away in his rooms, then she couldn't get to him! Not without Lord Luo's help, but she doubted he'd be interested in any mischief. Not with his husband at his side and the two of them being sickeningly, humanly, romantic together.

With nothing to do and no one to entertain her, she lurked about the halls near the kitchens, letting out an annoyed huff every so often or taking her claws to the walls occasionally. No one down here had the ranking to tell her no, after all.

Okay, so maybe she was sulking after all.

But it turned out that sulking was a good thing, because it meant she got the chance to spot a familiar little demon.

Now, don't let it be said that Sha Hualing makes a habit of actually memorizing the faces of Mobei's various minions, especially the minions of minions, but she'd had enough messages delivered to her by the fox demon that she remembered him well enough. One of Shang Qinghua's errand boys. Or something like that.

More importantly, he looked like he was trying to avoid attracting attention. Which, to someone like her, just attracted more attention. The tray in his hands suggested he'd just come from the kitchens, and she was curious to note two covered servings. Not delivering food to his king, clearly. Even if Mobei had brought his little human to court with him, he wouldn't have eaten with him there. And besides, that was clearly too much food for a cultivator the size of her hand.

So, where was he going?

She trailed behind him quietly, having no trouble silencing the normally chattery bells she wore with a bit of demonic qi. And as she followed, she caught the distinct smell of human and incense. Could she pick out which human? Not at this distance, but he'd been around one at least.

Tracking the fox demon was fun, especially as she found new servant routes through the walls that she'd missed on previous explorations of Mobei's palace. Using the passage allowed her target to skip the main halls as he went up into the main part of the palace, the few other servants they passed paying neither of them much mind. (Well, she got a few glances, but a meaningful glare kept them silent and reminded them to be blind when passing her. No one argued.)

Of course, leaving the hidden hallway without being noticed was trickier, and she had to wait a moment to let him move away from it before she could open the hidden door and follow. It took long enough that she almost missed his destination. Almost.

The fox demon stopped in front of a door highly covered with wards and spells. Many of them, she recognized, were clearly made by a human cultivator instead of demonic in style. He knocked softly on the door in three specific spots, making the wards light up, before speaking.

"This fox has returned. Open the door."

When the door opened, she almost thought for a moment that she'd really missed her chance because Shang Qinghua had been cured. The person who'd opened it was human, and dressed in the same kind of colors Mobei's soon-to-be-mate favored usually, and in the Northern Palace. Who else would it be. But very quickly she could see that her impression had been wrong. Human, yes. An Ding, yes. But the peak lord? No. The human was taller, built more solidly, and was distinctly younger.

Another one of Shang Qinghua's minions. Slowly, a smile curled over her lips. Found you~

While Mobei indulged his human in strange ways, Sha Hualing doubted he'd allow random cultivators to wander the palace. Meaning that if the boy was there, then so was Shang Qinghua.

Sadly, the fox ducked inside and the door swung shut before she could even think about getting inside the sealed off room. But that didn't mean all was lost. Even a young demon like her could be patient.

Besides, she had some robes to get made. That spider Mobei kept around would just love to have a new project. She just knew it.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua was... well, not done with his work, but somewhat satisfied about where the three of them had gotten it by the time the water clock informed them that Mobei would be coming to collect him soon. With his head disciple double-checking that the scrolls to go back to An Ding were dry, rolled up, and properly packed to be ready for transporting, he had a moment to sit back and enjoy the cup of tea that'd been brewed for him.

"Shizun, this disciple likely won't be available to assist you tomorrow," Shi Wuyou said regretfully once he had everything packed up in preparation. "Yue-zhangmen asked that I remain on the peak so we do not slide further behind. At least as quickly. With your absence, we have been trying to keep everything up, but..."

"But that's a lot easier to do when you're actually there," Shang Qinghua summarized for him, waving it away with a grin. "Don't worry about it, and take care of the peak. It was nice having you here and getting to see that everything was being well-managed while I've been recovering. Clearly, this master chose a competent head disciple."

The teenager blushed and ducked his head at the praise. "Shizun is too kind."

"Lord Shang is a very generous master," his fox assistant agreed, nodding eagerly. "It was... nice to work with you, disciple Shi Wuyou."

The author smiled, happy to see the pair getting along. He didn't know if he would go as far as to call them friends, but their tenseness hadn't lasted more than an hour of actual work time, both of them trained for the job by the same man (meaning him) and therefore the work actually being fairly compatible. And who had time for specism when there was work to get done? Not him!

"Collect anything that comes up that needs my signature and I'll see if my king would be willing to deliver them every so often," he said. No, he wasn't using his king as a delivery boy. Of course not. "Or, if he'll bring me around, so they'll be ready."

"Surely you won't be gone for that long?" his disciple asked. He... wasn't nervous. Few things made Shi Wuyou actually nervous in the author's experience. But he was pretty sure it was the same expression that the teen used when deadlines were coming and things weren't going right. "Mu-shishu must be getting close to a cure by now."

"Aw, is my disciple worried about this old master?" Shang Qinghua cooed, firmly stamping out any worry about that same issue that he might be harboring at the moment. Nope, no worry there. "I'm sure everything will be handled in no time. But there's still more catching up to do in the meantime. I know things are still behind from my absence before."

That absence being the time he'd been considered a traitor to the sect, and he hadn't been caught up from that when he'd ended up on the run from his king, putting him even further behind. But ah, his little ducklings really did try.

The teenager huffed softly. "More worried about the fact that we're going to have to audit every single peak by the time this is all over because they'll have been out of your examinations for too long."

Shang Qinghua couldn't help it. He burst out laughing, and was still laughing when the room chilled and both minions dropped into respectful bows as Mobei-Jun stepped out of the portal that'd formed.

The demon raised an eyebrow, looking between his tiny human and his human's somewhat dejected looking disciple. He picked Shang Qinghua up, raising him to eye level to examine, making sure nothing had gone wrong with his intended to cause the odd behavior. "Is Qinghua well?"

The author raised a finger, asking for a moment, as he got his breathing back under control. "S-sorry, my king. Yes, I'm fine."

Mobei looked at him doubtfully before turning his eyes to the disciple, who looked like he'd been suffering too much for too long. "It is time to go."

"Yes, your majesty," Shi Wuyou said with a nod. He gestured to the box of scrolls, pointedly ignoring his still grinning shizun. "We have everything packed up and ready to take back. As I told Shizun, I regrettably won't be able to come tomorrow."

"Which is absolutely fine, because you're helping me keep the sect running," Shang Qinghua said quickly when he saw the shift in his king's expression towards a frown. Well, more of a frown than usual. "It just means I'll be able to focus just on the palace and such tomorrow. We've been poking at some of the numbers for the army food supplies, and I need a bit more time for it anyway."

"Are there issues?" Mobei asked, shifting his attention.

"Ah, maybe? I noticed something fishy with the numbers that Wu Yuanzhi sent in, and had Hu Wenshi go fetch a report from the steward in charge of military supplies and all that. And they don't match up. I thought that it might be possible that his men had sourced some of their food someplace else, but the steward insisted that only about a hundred demons were under his command. He's drafting a salary for at least half of that again. If he's just embezzling, he's being real sloppy about it."

The demon king snorted. Embezzling was a crime, but not an urgent one. He could allow his human time to firmly nail the annoying General to his grave before launching an attack. Perhaps once Shang Qinghua was back to normal, and even crowned as a consort should be.

"Keep this king informed when you find more evidence," he said. Because obviously the cultivator would find more evidence. That was just what his Qinghua did. But for the moment, he returned his intended to the desk before taking hold (gently) of the An Ding disciple's arm to carry him back to the peak. While the young human clearly didn't find traveling through the shadows pleasant, he shook it off quickly as he had before, allowing Mobei to return right away instead of needing to linger to make sure that Qinghua's disciple didn't suffer any ill effects.

Shang Qinghua, was, of course, right where he'd left him upon his return, and Mobei liked that he didn't hesitate before stepping onto his offered hand. He knew that his human would not have been so trusting mere months ago. It pleased him to see how much had changed in that aspect.

"This assistant will have the office prepared tomorrow at the same time," Hu Wenshi promised, giving a nod to master and liege. "Unless Lord Shang would prefer to use the side office and allow the other assistants to return to duties?"

The human sighed and shook his head. "As much as that sounds good, the security in the side office isn't as good. We'll have to continue to occupy the main."

An echoing sigh. "Understood."

Mobei nodded to the assistant dismissively before opening another portal to bring his human and himself through to his chambers. His 'guests' had asked for another meal together, but one was enough. Especially one with Qinghua in attendance. He was not theirs to stare at.

Sitting in his hands, his human stretched his arms out, shaking the stiffness from his wrists. Going from the black stains on his hands, he'd clearly spent the hours making use of the brushes and ink Mobei had collected for him.

When he was larger again, Mobei would learn how to massage the soreness from those wrists. And the aches in his back that he knew Qinghua got from leaning over his desk too much.

"Has Qinghua thought about this king's offer?" Mobei-Jun asked, taking a seat at his table but not relinquishing his hold on the human just yet. A covered tray of food waited under one of Qinghua's own stasis talismans, of which he'd supplied the kitchens with a supply of some time ago.

"As if I could not," Shang Qinghua said with a little snort. But he didn't make any move to try and leave Mobei's hands either. "I still haven't quite decided, my king. I like you. I really do. I just need to see a little more."

Mobei nodded his head. It was not unheard of for a demon to demand tasks and challenges from a suitor to prove that they were worthy. However, he had doubts that bringing a hunting prize to his human's feet was what Qinghua had in mind. He'd heard of the War God doing such things for Consort Shen (grumbled about at volume by their Emperor) and it getting him precisely nowhere. Besides, Shang Qinghua knew he was strong. His strength wasn't what his human questioned.

His care, however, had not always been on the best display. "This king will prove himself."

Evidently, that was the right answer, because he was rewarded with a bright smile. "I'll be rooting for you, my king. But can we eat now? I'm hungry and that smells good even from here."

"Qinghua is always hungry," Mobei said as he finally brought him down to the table.

The human stuck his tongue out at him. Playful, relaxed. Good. "I'm a growing boy." When Mobei gave him a once over, expression doubtful, he was rewarded with a pout. "Shut up."

"Hm."

It took some convincing to get Mobei-Jun to let him sleep on his pillow bed that night after dinner, but the author knew there wouldn't be much room for thinking if he was plonked onto his king's chest again. Especially if there was a repeat of that morning! Which was so not appropriate, my king! They weren't married yet!

Married.

And that was the heart of it all, wasn't it? Once Mobei's breathing had evened out into sleep, Shang Qinghua found himself laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Well, that was how it'd look to outsiders, at least. Instead, a pair of glowing blue boxes visible only to him floated above his face.

On one, it tracked the progress of his current quest. On the other, a little further back but lurking there all the same, a button with two words. 'Go home.'

He hadn't been able to make himself press the button when it'd shown up. Because for all of its flaws, he actually liked this world he'd written. And... what did he really have to go home to? Even assuming the system could bring his body back to life. More days of having to pump out tens of thousands of words and hope his readers liked it enough for him to make rent on a shitty little apartment? Sure, he was overworked here, but at least... at least he had friends here. And good food. And a comfortable place to live.

And his king. His king, who wanted to marry him.

He knew that if he said yes, he would never be able to bring himself to push that button. Because he'd seen what happened when Mobei couldn't find him as a servant. As his husband? It would destroy him. And despite how much he'd once tried to keep thinking about the people in this world as characters, he loved his king too much to do that to him.

Airplane sighed, dismissing both windows and closing his eyes. Later. He'd make the choice later.

-

Sha Hualing didn't show up to breakfast the next morning. Which Shang Qinghua found... concerning. Especially after how much attention she'd paid him the day before. While Tianlang-Jun kept his hands to himself, instead making a point to recommend no small number of yellow books involving sexy, strong lords and their delicate, waifish servants (which, hey. He was not waifish!) as instruction manuals. But that didn't mean that the author wasn't constantly peering at corners and behind himself to make sure she didn't spring out from some shadow and catch him by surprise. Which was silly because that was something Mobei was much more likely to do, and he was right there.

Still! The point was that her not being there meant she was someplace else, and since no one had mentioned her leaving, that meant she was probably up to something.

"My king, I don't suppose that I could just go with you to court today," Shang Qinghua said, looking up at him. "I can stay completely out of sight. No one will see me."

Mobei looked at him, over to the former emperor who'd pulled out a book after finishing his food, and back to him, and without a word being said the author felt he was being reminded that someone already had managed to spot him once. Which was true, sure, but not everyone was Tianlang-fucking-Jun or sitting so close to the throne.

"Qinghua has work to do," the ice demon reminded him, oh so casually throwing his own words back his way. Mobei, don't you know that that's cheating? "He will be safer away from court."

"I'll be safest with my king," the author protested. Lowering his voice because he had no doubt that a certain someone was listening, he added, "What if I hide inside your robes? Then absolutely no one will be able to see me."

The tips of Mobei's ears tinged blue, but Tianlang-Jun spoke up before he could reply.

"Little Peak Lord, I don't think either of you will get any work done if you do that," the heavenly demon said, wiggling his eyebrows at them over the top of his book. "But if you're worried, this old man could watch over you."

"I'd rather be watched over by a cat," Shang Qinghua said flatly, cheeks burning.

Tianlang-Jun sighed dramatically. "So cold. You really do have so much in common with my son, don't you? No wonder Master Shen considers you a friend. And here I thought you were the nice one."

Him, have anything in common with Luo Binghe? (Other than taste in partners, because he was starting to think he'd somehow given all heavenly demons that. Sorry.) Just what was the demon smoking these days? It couldn't be good for his recovering body, whatever it was.

"This king requires your presence in court," Mobei said, looking to the other demon. "Other protections have been arranged for Qinghua's safety."

"Well, this lord supposes he could do as his host requests," Tianlang-Jun said with a distinct pout. Extremely powerful demon, once emperor of the demon realm who nearly merged it with the human realm, and yet he still pouted like a teenager told they couldn't skip school for a concert.

Well, at least if he couldn't be with his king, then not only would Tianlang-Jun be kept too busy to come bother him, but he would also be there to help keep an eye out for his king. Not exactly a win-win in his books, but better than nothing!

"If you take good notes for me, I'll read one of those books you brought," Shang Qinghua offered. "Not 'Regret of Chunshan' though. I'm not reading about my shixiong getting railed."

"No? Pity. You're missing out on quite the story," the former emperor said, grinning. "But don't worry, I have plenty others for you to enjoy. Hopefully you'll get some ideas for the wedding night. Or before. This lord would hardly criticize if the two of you were experimenting early. Though if you are, I do want to know how you've managed to make things fit."

"We aren't doing that!" he sputtered, only to squeak with surprise when Mobei abruptly scooped him right up off his feet, hands cupping around him to hide him completely from the other demon's view.

"This king will see you in court," Mobei told Tianlang-Jun coldly, already cutting open a portal without waiting for a reply. The heavenly demon's laughter followed them through.

But that wasn't the only noise they faced, because there were more people than expected in the office when Mobei-Jun emerged, hurrying to finish tasks. They all went abruptly quiet when the king appeared, save for the sound of scrolls dropping in surprise as they dove into deep bows. Not that Shang Qinghua saw any of that, because the hand holding him was swiftly tucked into his king's cloak to keep him out of sight.

"Your highness! We did not expect you so early!" the voice of his assistant stammered.

"Breakfast finished early," Mobei said with a growl. One that was clearly not as attractive to the demon clerks as it was to their boss hidden away. "Fix this."

"R-right away!" The fox demon clapped his hands, raising his voice. "Everyone out, immediately!"

There was a mad scramble for everyone to leave through the door, which would have made the author laugh if he hadn't been keeping a hand over his own mouth to stay as silent as he could be. When he was back to normal and it was safe to tell the rest of his crew, he was going to have to tease some of them about this.

Mobei didn't bring his author-laden hand out from his cloak until the door closed behind the last of the demons scurrying out, and Shang Qinghua reached up to try and fix his hair after it had gotten ruffled in the quick exit and hiding. "My king, you're going to make them twitchy if you keep showing up and chasing them out like that."

"They should have been gone already," Mobei said, fixing the fox demon standing nervously by the desk with a glare.

"A thousand apologies, your majesty," Hu Wenshi said, wringing his hands. "They were in the process of preparing to depart, but one of the lower lords was trying to get access to some of the records that Lord Shang was looking at. We of course denied him entry! Only, it delayed the completion of the overnight work."

"You've been working overnight?" Shang Qinghua asked, grimacing at the thought. He'd pulled no few all-nighters himself, in his first life and this one, and they universally sucked! The only good thing about them was you didn't get bothered as much.

"In order to have the office vacant for your use, Lord Shang," the fox said with a nod. "The other assistants have been working in shifts, to remain rested and productive."

The author sighed. It made sense, if he was taking up the room during the daylight hours. "Well, at least you're still all taking care of yourselves."

"Mn. Using Qinghua as a lesson," Mobei said with a little snort as he set him on the desk.

"Rude," he muttered under his breath before craning his head back to look up at the demon. "If you're sure I can't come with you, my king, best to go before Tianlang-Jun comes looking for you. He might find the office."

The ice demon nodded, lightly touching the top of Shang Qinghua's head before creating another portal to step through. The author couldn't help but to smile, feeling the butterflies dancing around in his stomach from such a simple gesture.

"I suppose we should add compiling a guest list to our upcoming tasks," Hu Wenshi said, the fox sounding all too amused by his boss's behavior.

"Maaaybe," Shang Qinghua said, feeling that he was getting closer and closer to just saying yes. He was even starting to see red as he turned around to face his assistant so they could get to work. "But it's not on the top of the list yet, so don't start-" The tiny human froze as his brain caught up to his eyes. That had been red. Gauzy red, draped over the top of one of the high scroll shelves. "Fuck."

"Your little minions really ought to look up more often, Lord Shang," Sha Hualing said casually, lounging across the top of the shelves, smile rather sharp and filled with fangs as she peered down at the pair of them. "Or should I call you Consort Shang? Queen Shang? Whatever title you and Beibei decide to use. It's not too soon, is it?"

"Lady Sha, you shouldn't be in here," the human said, trying to act calm, like he hadn't just started to scream in his head. What was she doing there? How had she gotten inside, and how hadn't anyone noticed her coming in?!

Pushing herself up, the Saintess nimbly hopped down to the floor with a jingling of bells. Forget seeing her, how had no one heard her come in? "No one told this Ling-er she couldn't be here. Only your minions were told to get out. And this Ling-er even brought you a gift."

"What kind of gift?" Shang Qinghua asked suspiciously. He was pretty sure she wasn't going to kill him, or do something to get him killed, not when it'd seriously piss off Mobei-Jun, but that didn't rule out a ton of other things she could be up to.

"Well, since Mobei's made his claim on you very clear, and you're so much cuter when you're small like this, I thought that he might like to keep you like this," Sha Hualing said cheerfully. "Or at least think about it. And he's already had his turn to dress you up, so now it's my turn. Don't worry, he'll like it."

"Dress up- This master is not a doll!" Shang Qinghua sputtered, his face going red. The embarrassment and indignation of it overwhelmed any worries he had about being kept tiny. Mobei wouldn't want him to stay like this anyway! But Sha Hualing clearly did, and he scrambled back as she advanced, a hand behind her back. "Stay where you are!"

"Lady Sha, please keep your distance," Hu Wenshi pleaded, stepping forward to get between them. But a swipe of her claws had him jerking back again. "Erk!"

"Stay over in your corner, little fox," she warned. "This Ling-er promised not to hurt Mobei's pet. Not his pet's minions." Seeing that he was adequately cowed, her attention turned back fully on the little cultivator who'd realized that there were no paths off the desk. "Now you, come here. Beibei is going to love seeing you in red."

It was a valiant fight, the kind that songs would be sung about in years to come, Shang Qinghua was sure. Noble immortal cultivator against giant, evil demon. But ultimately it was a fight he lost. Miserably. Humiliatingly.

Because the moment she got hold of him, the Saintess made herself comfortable on his usual chair, ignoring his squawks of protest as she stripped off his outer layers, dropping them one by one on the desk while he dangled from her fingers, face as red as the pile of new clothes she'd been hiding in her hand.

"H-hey, that's more than enough!" he yelped, holding tightly to his inner robes when she reached to steal them off of him too. "What would my king say to you stripping me like this!?"

"I'm doing him a favor," Sha Hualing said, rolling her eyes. She gave another little tug on his robe before letting go of it with a huff. "Fine. Not like I wanted to see you naked anyway." He was set down on the desk more roughly than he'd started getting used to, and blocked from going to his pile of stolen clothes. "No, no, not those. The red ones."

He tried to dodge around her hand, only to be plucked up into the air again. "Just give me back my clothes!"

"After that frozen stone-face king of yours has seen you," she said and grabbed the first layer of red robes, using one hand to clumsily push him into it. "Now hold still so I don't break anything."

By 'break anything' she meant his limbs, which was doing nothing to help him calm down! Ultimately, he had to help her get the robe onto him for his own safety! At least she put him back down once he started to cooperate, letting his feet stay on the desk instead of dangling high over it and swinging around as she worked!

"See, isn't he prettier like this?" the demoness asked the poor fox who was unwilling witness to his boss's torment. She dropped a red veil over Shang Qinghua's head once the last layer was on, leaning down to put her chin on the desk so she could get a better view. "Maybe I can see what Beibei sees in you. At least when you're dressed up. Too bad I didn't bring you any makeup. But it'd be too thick for you."

"T-that's just fine," the author said, glad that at least the veil hid his cheeks. And the many layers of bridal robes (because of course it was a bridal dress! Not even groom's robes!) were enough to keep him warm, considering she hadn't given him back the warming charm his king had given him. It was somewhere mixed in with his pile of clothes that he couldn't reach. "But really, you've had your fun. Give me back my clothes."

"Hm... no." Sha Hualing sat up, grinning as she looked down at him. Like an overgrown cat, she reached out and flicked the pile of blue silks to the floor. "Oops~." Leaning back, she looked over at his poor assistant. "Well, you'd better go get Mobei. He'll want to see this." When he froze, she made a shooing motion. "Go on. I'm sure your master will be fine without you. I won't take him anywhere."

Hu Wenshi didn't need to be told again, glancing at his boss stuffed into a wedding dress and the demoness who was more than powerful enough to kill him in a heartbeat, and bolted for the door.

Sha Hualing giggled, poking at her little captive to tug his clothes this way and that until she was satisfied, at which point she stood up and stretched. "Well, I don't want to be here when Beibei shows up, so be good and stay put."

"You're just leaving?!" Shang Qinghua sputtered. After all that, she was just going to up and skip out? What happened to showing him to his king, huh? "Give me my stuff then, or put me on the floor and I'll do it myself!"

"Of course I'm leaving. Your king gets so weird and possessive around you, and I don't feel like healing from frostbite and stabs at the same time," she sniffed. "Get yourself down if you can. See you at the wedding, little human~."

He stared in disbelief as she slipped out the door the same way his assistant had gone, though at a much more leisurely pace, closing the door behind herself and leaving him alone in the room.

-

Wu Yuanzhi slipped away from court early, the moment he heard that their brat king wanted to speak to him. The clerk delivering the message hadn't known the reason, but one didn't rise to his position by trusting that everything was fine. Particularly when plotting regicide and funding it out of the king's own treasuries. There wasn't any more time to plot and scheme if the new Mobei-Jun was already on to him, but if he could find his accursed human servant, maybe he could buy himself a few days.

But no matter how much he'd tried, he hadn't been able to find hide nor hair of the human, despite evidence that he must have been around. Though perhaps not as close as he'd been recently. So where had that brat hidden him?

He was abruptly knocked from his thoughts by a smaller body slamming into him without warning, snarling at the impudence. A quick grab brought the other demon up to eye level, whimpering with fear. Good, as he should be.

"This lowly one is sorry, it was an accident!" the fox demon blurted. "Please let this servant go; I have a message to deliver to his majesty. It's urgent!"

Wu Yuanzhi narrowed his eyes, lip curling. "Who is sending a message so urgent that their servants dare to give demands to their betters? Some pathetic worm of a supplicant?"

"Advisor Shang isn't a worm!" As soon as the words left his mouth, the fox demon's eyes flew wide and he slapped a hand over his mouth. But it was too late.

"You know where that brat king has been hiding him," the General said, his voice low and dangerous.

"N-no, no I don't!"

The servant started to struggle against his grip, feet swinging in the air. Pointless. Just like this loyalty to a treacherous little human and his pet king. Wu Yuanzhi growled, slamming the other up against a wall. "You will tell me or I will begin to remove fingers."

"I really don't know!"

What the human did to inspire so much loyalty in those he'd twisted to his side, Wu Yuanzhi didn't know, but even without saying anything to betray his master, the fox demon sent a fearful glance down the hallway. Ah ha.

"Good boy," he purred before abruptly slamming him against the wall again, and again, until he stopped yelping with the impact. He didn't bother checking if the little demon was still alive or not as he dropped him to the floor, striding in the direction the fox had looked so worriedly.

For someone working under the human who served as the king's mind, the little fox had been so very foolish to attract so much attention when he was keeping such an important secret. Especially in such an unused hallway. Wu Yuanzhi was a hunter. And with a lead, nothing could escape him.

Whatever the message the servant had been carrying, he was scared. And the stink of that fear was like a beacon to his hunter's nose, as easy to follow as a line of night pearls on a new moon. He followed the scent until it brought him to a door, lips curling into a smirk as he brushed fingers over the carved wood.

There were wards painted on the door, but someone had already scratched a line across them, leaving them broken and useless. And this was how they guarded the master advisor of the North? Pathetic.

Wu Yuanzhi smiled cruelly as he pushed the door open, stepping inside and sweeping his eyes over the room. Where was the little human hiding?

"My king?"

The demon followed the voice and only barely concealed his surprise when he spotted the flash of red peeking from behind a lantern before abruptly vanishing again with a fearful yelp. Of course, the confusion didn't survive past first glance. Wu Yuanzhi looked nothing like their brat king. The human would know he wasn't him in a heartbeat.

"Little Advisor Shang, this is quite the surprise," he said with delight, picking up the lantern and knocking it to the floor. No hiding places for the little human. So much littler than ever before. How perfect was that? "This lord has been wondering where you've been hiding."

"G-General! Y-you really can't be in here," the human sputtered, backing away from him. Not that there was far for him to go except to turn around and scramble in the other direction as Wu Yuanzhi circled around the desk. Meaning the demon had more than enough time to examine the human who could cause him so many problems. He extremely doubted that the brat king had dressed him in red. But oh, humans wore red for their marriage ceremonies, didn't they? And that blue bead on his head...

"It seems that I came just in time," the General said, reaching towards him, smirking as the human danced away from his claws. "Bad enough for that half-breed to take a human mate. For a Northern king to follow suit... I would not allow such a stain."

This was bad. So very bad. Stuck on top of the desk, Shang Qinghua had only peaked out because he'd thought Hu Wenshi had told Mobei about what had happened and his king had come for him. Not the General who'd been insulting his king to his-

And it clicked in his brain at last. The General!

"You're the one who sent those idiots after Shen Qingqiu and me!" he accused, only stopping to stare at him for a moment before having to run from that hand again. Fucker was playing with him, but every moment he stayed out of his grip was another moment for his king to get there and save him from being killed - or worse.

"A test. One does not often get to see what a royal emperor will do when their beloved is threatened, or test what their own king might do in the situation. But of course he came like a little lapdog, following orders and doing his dirty work for him." Wu Yuanzhi turned his hand around to knock the author across the desk, just barely not sending him flying off the top of it altogether. "At least they killed those involved. Saved me from having to do the cleanup myself. Not that they actually knew enough about me to identify me to the brat or the half breed. I knew there was a chance they'd be tortured for information."

Shang Qinghua grunted as he pushed himself back up. It was hardly the hardest he'd gotten hit serving under his king, but it still made him ache. "And what does that have to do with me?"

Come on, keep on talking. Go full villain monologue. Give him time.

But since when had this world ever been kind to its creator? Because instead of launching into a long-winded explanation of his plans (unrealistic, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility in the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way), the demon just reached out to snatch him up, letting Shang Qinghua dangle in front of his face with a smirk. "Because not only are you the source of his power, little human, but every demon in the palace knows he cares for you. Making you perfect bait. Now, time to sleep."

Shang Qinghua opened his mouth to protest, but that only meant he got a big dose of the powder the demon blew at his face. He coughed, eyes stinging as everything quickly went dark. Unseen, the blue System box appeared to float before him.

[Stage: "Eyes to Watch, Ears to Listen" is complete. Beginning final stage: "Love Brings the Cure."]

Chapter Text

If Mobei-Jun grew more annoyed the longer the General he'd summoned didn't appear, he didn't let it be seen on his face. As soon as he'd fully settled into his position, he would begin removing the remnants of his father's old court if they didn't turn their loyalties to him, and he knew who would be among the first to go.

Assuming Shang Qinghua had not already disposed of them in his own way. Which he had little doubt that he would.

To Mobei's shame, it was Tianlang-Jun who noticed before he did, the older demon's head turning towards the door with a snap. Following that hint, the ice demon turned his attention to the faint voices behind the door. A pleading voice asking to be allowed in, only to be rebuffed by the guards that stood outside. A familiar voice.

He stood abruptly, interrupting the emissary who was going over their trade offers, and strode towards the great doors to throw them open. One of the guards had his hands on Qinghua's assistant, who was already bloodied and bruised, and he made a satisfying thunk when Mobei tore him away from the fox demon and flung him to the ground.

"Your majesty!" Qinghua's assistant gasped with relief. "It's Lord Shang, he-"

"Why are you not with him?" Mobei-Jun growled, grabbing hold of the fox himself, teeth bared. When the fox dared to freeze instead of answering, he shook him. "Where is he?!"

"I-I don't know!" he wailed. "This servant was running to come here because Lady Sha snuck in and was bothering him, but General Wu Yuanzhi intercepted and knocked me out! When I woke up and ran to check on Lord Shang, he was gone!"

A cold weight settled in Mobei-Jun's stomach. Sha Hualing had promised not to hurt his human, but Wu Yuanzhi had sworn no such oath. And Qinghua had already begun to be suspicious of him. And now he'd taken his intended.

Mobei barely noticed when he slashed open a portal before he was leaping through into the office he'd left his human in. There was hardly any sign of struggle, but there wouldn't be, would there? Qinghua's assistant hadn't been there, and how much could Qinghua really struggle against a full sized demon? He didn't even possess his sword.

Dropping the fox demon to the floor, he shoved a hand into his robes for the charm he'd taken to wearing since he'd brought the cultivator back home. It was small and hung on a chain, though not nearly as small as its counterpart. Closing his eyes, he squeezed it in his hand, waiting for the direction of pull.

Close. Surprisingly close. His eyes shot open again as he spun around, searching the ground near the desk. And there he spotted a pile of dark blue silks that had his heart leaping in his chest. Had Qinghua been- No, there was no body inside the robes as he picked them up. What there was, he realized with a sinking feeling, was the tracking and warming charms he'd given the human.

He picked up the abandoned robes and brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply. And growling. The Saintess' scent was all over the silk. She'd handled his human after he warned her not to touch him. Had he been in error to trust her enough to remain unguarded in his palace?

"Lady Sha made Lord Shang change into red robes. This servant thinks she knocked the rest off to keep him from changing back," the fox said nervously. He swallowed heavily when Mobei turned an eye on him, wisely staying kneeling on the ground instead of rising. "She told this servant to fetch you."

"You don't think she had a part in this," Mobei finished, voice low and dangerous.

"N-no, sir. She was teasing him, but not hurting him."

Mobei considered it, rubbing the silk between his fingers. His instinct was to discount any suggestions that didn't come from Qinghua directly. But while the fox was a coward, his human would not have trusted him to assist him if he weren't clever too.

That did not mean the girl was blameless, if she was the reason that Qinghua didn't have his tracking charm on him. But she could be dealt with later. His human was the priority.

"What did Wu Yuanzhi say to you?" he demanded, casting another stare at the fox. Clearly too weak to stand against someone of the General's caliber. Mobei should have assigned a more capable guard.

If only he'd had one he could trust.

"He threatened this lowly one if he wasn't given Lord Shang's location. But I didn't tell him!" the fox demon added quickly. "Lord Shang has been kind to me; I would never betray him! But the General may have tracked my path back here."

Mobei-Jun nodded slowly. Even he could smell the fear washing off the nervous fox. For someone like Wu Yuanzhi, the tracks would have been clear. "Get out. No one is to enter this room until Qinghua or this king allows it."

The fox scrambled to obey, only stopping to hold the door open when Mobei followed behind him. As soon as it swung shut, he froze it over with a thick layer of ice. Nothing in, nothing out.

Qinghua was missing, taken from Mobei again. But this time, it wasn't under his human's own will. Someone else had dared to lay hands on him.

He would find him, and they would pay.

-

The first thing Shang Qinghua noticed when he began to come to was the cold. It was like a squeezing grip, making his bones ache and his fingers go numb. The next was that he was moving, rocking with the motions of some beast's trot. He pried his eyes open with a groan, pushing loose hair from his face and blinking at the fabric right in front of him. What- Oh, he was in a bag? Why would his king-

And then the memory came flooding back. The General. The trap for his king that he was going to be a part of. Bait, he'd said. "Shit."

"Ah, the little human is awake," the demon's voice came from outside the bag, amused. Shang Qinghua jerked when something poked at him through the fabric wall. "And here I was worried you'd freeze to death before you did."

"When my king finds you, he's going to turn you into a fucking popsicle and feed you to the army mounts!" the author snapped, feeling a wave of anger at the demon. Because Wu Yuanzhi wasn't just coming for him. He was coming for his king. And Shang Qinghua had fought too hard to get things to where they were now!

"Oh come now. One demon, who's already lost to a brat of a half-breed, against my army?" Wu Yuanzhi taunted lightly. "Your king will walk into ambush and die for you. And he has no heirs to take in his power and avenge him. Now hush, we're almost there."

Shang Qinghua swallowed, worry welling up. An army. No wonder the numbers hadn't matched. Fuck, he should have alerted his king sooner. Moved faster to check everything. He could have caught him sooner.

Fuck!

Rubbing his arms to try and keep some small measure of heat, he curled himself into a ball. The wedding robes were not exactly warm, and the bag he'd been stuffed into wasn't either. If they weren't careful, he really was going to freeze to death.

The General made no move to acknowledge that Shang Qinghua was there as they rode through what sounded like a camp. He knew it! But other than shouts to announce he was there, no one spoke to him, and he kept going. Intentionally keeping the author from listening in?

'System, what the crap? Since when did two-bit villains start getting smart??' he demanded silently, getting no answer. Because of course it decided to stay quiet at a time like this.

As the camp noises grew distant, the demon at last hopped down off his mount, making the bag swing against him and drawing a grunt from the trapped cultivator in response. Wu Yuanzhi chuckled, patting the bag as he continued on by foot. "Don't worry, little human, we're almost there. I'll let you out to watch your king die when we reach the top."

"Going to watch him take your head clean off," he muttered, trying to push down the rush of fear for his king. His king was strong, second only to Luo Binghe. He would be fine.

When the General stopped walking, he opened up the bag and Shang Qinghua didn't have a chance to avoid his claws before he was being pulled out into the cold (colder) air, blinking in the sudden sunlight. It was bright, reflecting blindingly against the snow and ice. And in a second, the realization stole his breath away.

Shang Qinghua had never been there, but Airplane knew this place. Because it'd been the first place he'd crafted when dreaming up his king. The first place he'd crafted in the entire world of Proud Immortal Demon Way. It hadn't made it into the drafts, because it was, to him, part of his king. One of many parts he'd never been willing to expose to the criticism of his readers. In a way, it was the center of this universe.

Something that Wu Yuanzhi couldn't have known, but he still brought Shang Qinghua here.

But his attention was soon drawn away from the mountains and valleys of ice. Because a sudden commotion from far down below rose up, and his eyes were drawn to the army camp at the base of the mountain. And the lone figure cutting through them.

Mobei!

-

Mobei hadn't realized how much the lower ranks of the staff liked his human until it was time to search the entire palace and its grounds, and they dropped every other task they had to help. The servant hallways were swept, the guest rooms, the dungeons, the kitchens. Every inch of space, no matter how much the lords occupying those spaces complained. They didn't matter. Qinghua did.

The General's own chambers hadn't offered many clues. If he kept any plans written down, he'd taken them with him. And even the hunting master could only catch the smallest whiff of human scent. Shang Qinghua had been there, but not for long. But it confirmed who the guilty party was, and with one command, any and all of his close associates in the palace were found and confined to their chambers for questioning later.

What interested Mobei-Jun more were the tracks outside. Clear and separated from those on the main road going up to the palace, leading from the stable into the snow covered woods. Deliberate tracks. He was being taunted. Or directed.

"Send word to the Emperor with our fastest messengers, one to Qinghua's sect, one to the Underground palace," Mobei ordered the nearest guard, summoning a blade of ice to his hand. Luo Binghe had said himself that he owed Qinghua. And even if he didn't, his consort would have him come to help. But he didn't have time to go track the heavenly demon down. "Tell him I've gone to find Shang Qinghua."

Mobei didn't stay to watch the guard bowing low before hurrying to carry out the order, mounting up onto the demon horse that had been brought out to him. He had to travel fast, and teleporting only worked when you knew your destination. The tracks would lead him. Into an ambush, he knew, but that didn't matter. Only Qinghua mattered.

He gritted his teeth as the tracks were joined by more coming in from two sides, muddying them until they were nearly impossible to follow. But they were just ever so slightly newer, and a different shape. Wu Yuanzhi favored a northern glacier elk, he knew, its narrow hooves distinct from the paws and broad hooves left behind by the army mounts.

But they were all going in the same direction, and he cursed as they overlapped too much to pick out. How many had turned traitor so easily? How many would he have to get through before he got to Qinghua?

The answer, it turned out, came soon.

The trees thinned out to nothing as the frozen ground gave way to ice. Mobei knew this place. A frozen 'valley' that was little more than an ancient crack that had spread wide in a mighty glacier, never thawing even in the warmest of summer days. (As warm as it ever got in this ice biome of a kingdom, Qinghua seemed to say in his head.)

The camp sat at the base. Even from where he sat, he could see that they wore the uniform of his army, save for their sashes, which had been swapped out for green. He didn't need to see the design to know who it would represent. Traitors, all of them. And from what Qinghua had been saying, traitors he had paid for out of his own treasury.

They would die. Every one of them.

-

His captor was getting more and more angry the longer they watched, the points of his claws digging dangerously against Shang Qinghua's sides, tearing the layers of the bridal robes. What was becoming clear was something that the human had already known: with his ancestral powers, the traitor army was just no match for his king. Even as one against a hundred.

Ice spikes rained down and impaled demons before they could get too close. Shadow portals opened beneath others' feet and released them high in the sky to plummet back down, landing on their fellows and killing or injuring both. Those who did get close were beaten back and laid out in the snow, red spreading wide as they bled out. The ambush had been intended as a murder, but it had turned back on itself and become a massacre.

"Damn him," Wu Yuanzhi hissed under his breath before growling louder. "Damn him and his cursed family line to the Abyss!" He brought his prisoner up to his face, glaring at him furiously. "Don't think you're going to win this, cultivator scum. Your brat weakling king is still going to die, and then so will you."

Snarling, he flung Shang Qinghua to the ground, snow barely enough to cushion his fall as he sank into it. With his hands free, the General raised his hands up, summoning a bow made from demonic energy that he drew back. Taking careful aim at the camp below. And as the arrow tip lit up in dark flames, the author knew exactly where it was pointed.

"My king!"

The arrow released as the shadows gathered to swallow its target, a blade of black ice slicing open the air as his king leapt through like icy fury in living form. "Qinghua!"

"I'm here!" he cried out, feeling relief flood into his body as he shoved himself to his feet, struggling through the deep snow towards his king. "I'm here, my king!"

Clawed hands snatched him from the snow before he could travel so much as a foot, holding him tightly enough to knock the breath out of his lungs. Wu Yuanzhi held him high, glaring at Mobei-Jun with pure malice.

"Take one step, or gather a single shadow, and I'll throw him off," he snarled.

Mobei-Jun froze in his steps, fury in his eyes. "Release him."

"Why? So you can marry him and bring ruin to this kingdom? Just like that human-loving Emperor's bastard son? You've already brought shame on us, the unconquered before you bowed to the half breed!" the General growled. "I'd had hopes that your uncle would manage to murder you and take the throne. At least he has the cruelty to rule. But he was too weak. So now I'll take your place, and end the Mobei lineage for good."

Wincing as the demon's claws dug into his legs, the author tried to pry them open, gasping at the sting. He could feel the temperature around them dropping drastically as Mobei's power rose up. His captor cursed and jumped to dodge the ice spikes sprouting from the ground beneath them.

"Damn you to the Abyss your cursed ancestors crawled out of!" the General shouted, hissing as one of the spikes caught him in the side, tightening his grip.

Shang Qinghua's head spun as he fought for air. Not like this! "My king, help!"

Spikes rained down from above, and Wu Yuanzhi had to drop the human to shield himself, cursing. Landing hard, the author held his ribs as he coughed, half curled on his side. Fuck.

"If you want the little rat so bad, go take him!" Wu Yuanzhi spat, and he kicked the tiny human towards the cliff.

In his one moment of luck, Shang Qinghua hit against one of the ice spikes impaling the cliff instead of going over the edge. As he looked up in a pained daze, he heard his king scream his name, watched the shadows open to deliver Mobei to him. Those hands reached for him, so close to rescue.

And then the luck ended.

With Mobei-Jun's back to Wu Yuanzhi, the demon struck. Not even bothering with his bow, he shot a blast of demonic energy at the king. It wasn't enough to truly hurt him, not with the Mobei line's power in him, but it was enough to push him forward several feet. Mobei was sent over the cliff, and his body knocked his human over it ahead of him.

Even as they fell, Mobei tried to reach for his intended, his eyes wide with uncharacteristic fear. It looked so wrong on his face that it snapped Shang Qinghua out of his daze. This couldn't be how it ended. Not for him, and not for his king! Not killed by some pathetic villain-of-the-week!

"This is bullshit!" he screamed, tears welling up in his eyes as he tried reaching up for his king. "I'm the fucking god of this world! I made it! It's mine! I refuse to fucking die like this!"

A chime rang in his years and time seemed to come to a standstill, a familiar blue box opening up in the air between their outstretched hands.

[Activation phrase: "I am the f-king god of this world." How may this System be of service?]

"How- Fucking save us!" Shang Qinghua shouted at it, his heart pounding. "This world belongs to me, and I didn't give permission for my king to die by being knocked off a fucking cliff like an NPC!"

[This system can provide a one-time use resurrection for one as a reward for completing the plot. Does User001 wish to use this bonus upon landing?]

"Did you hear me?! I don't want either of us to die!"

[...]

[...]

[User 001 already possesses outside editing powers via ownership of the 'Go Home' option. User 001 may only access one form of editing powers. Do you wish to trade 'Go Home' for internal editing powers?]

[Yes] [No]

Shang Qinghua's heart pounded as he stared at the two buttons. Trade- But then he looked past the floating window to his king, whose hands were still reaching for him while frozen in place. And he smashed his hand into the 'yes' button as hard as he could.

[User has selected 'yes.' Please confirm this selection to begin transfer.]

"Just fucking do it already! Why would I want to go anywhere without my king, especially if it means him dying?! I love him and am going to marry him, you fucking piece of shit!"

[Confirmation received. Activating god mode. Please stand by.]

As a loading bar replaced the text on the screen, Shang Qinghua looked past it to his king. And gasped. Because while Mobei was frozen in suspended animation while he was dealing with the system, his eyes were moving, focusing on the screen. He could see it. At the sound of his gasp, they shifted again and Mobei locked eyes with him. "My ki-"

The author's words were cut off as he choked, curling in on himself even while held in mid-air. His core burned, feeling like it was growing hotter and hotter, a small sun forming in his body and threatening to consume him. He was dimly aware of the lightning that struck, but couldn't even bring himself to be afraid even if it had scared him before, ever since his death by electrocution. He had to squeeze his eyes shut against the brightness, losing sight of his king. Something small hit his outstretched hand and he closed his fingers around it instinctively, holding it close to his chest.

And then he hit the ground. Shang Qinghua sucked in a breath. The landing wasn't nearly as bad as he'd expected, but the icy ground was still hard. And cold, cold like- His king! Eyes shooting open, he stared skyward, but saw nothing. Where was his king?!

"My king, where are you?" he asked, looking around frantically. All he could see was ice around him, spread out from the crack he must have landed in. "Mobei!"

"Qinghua!"

Following the voice, he looked down, but still didn't see his king. Not until he felt something shoving against his fingers and opened his hand. And there he sat, smaller than his palm, wide-eyed and staring up at him. Shang Qinghua had never seen his king so shocked. Or so small.

"Mo...bei?" he whispered, sharing in that shock. "Did we- did we trade places?"

"This king is unchanged," Mobei said softly, but even so he could hear him perfectly. "Shang-Di grew."

Blinking, he looked down at himself, and at the ice around him. Recognizing the 'crack' he'd fallen into as being the ice valley he'd seen and recalled before. The change in his robes from the wedding red that Sha Hualing had shoved him into to the finest set he'd ever seen in white, blue, and silver distracted him for a bit, but not enough to not notice the swell of demonic energy growing to his left.

Automatically cupping his king safely to him, he turned to face the cliff they'd been knocked from, where Wu Yuanzhi had summoned his bow once more, a fiery arrow being aimed towards him. The demon who had tried to kill him. Had tried to kill his king. With a flash of anger, the author lashed out with his empty hand, striking the cliff.

The ice shattered under the force, bringing it down beneath the traitor's feet, cracks spreading wide. A second punch started a small avalanche that flowed down towards the camp below. If they survived the snow, they wouldn't survive the chunks of ice that fell with it. No one betrayed and tried to kill his king and survived.

"You'll be safe now, my king," he whispered, shaking the snow from his hand before bringing it to join the other as he cupped both around the stunned demon in his grasp.

It was the sight of Mobei dropping to his knees that snapped him out of it and make him realize what had just happened. Holy shit. He'd turned into a giant, and wiped out the enemy in two hits. He'd traded 'Go Home' and became, what, some kind of god? That wasn't what 'god mode' meant, System! Blood rushing to his ears, he started to hyperventilate, gasping for breath.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, shit, how-"

"Shang-Di, calm down."

He dropped his hands to his lap, making Mobei have to catch himself to keep from rolling from the new god's palms. Mobei, who had seen the system. Had heard him call himself the god of the world. Had seen him turn into a giant, had-

"Qinghua!"

Sucking in a breath, he focused on the demon who'd called his name. Who even now stared up at him, shoulders tense as he waited to see how the new god responded. When it looked like he was calming down from his panic, Mobei tried to kneel again.

"W-wait, you don't have to do that!" Shang Qinghua sputtered, reaching to straighten him back up again before hesitating. How did you even handle someone that small? They'd all managed, with him, but this was new from this angle! "Please stand up! You don't have to kneel to me."

"Shang-Di is a god," Mobei said stiffly, bowing his head. "This king has treated him without the respect he deserves."

"Please don't call me that," he whispered, lifting Mobei up higher to look at his face. Not only did it really not feel like a name he deserved, this was Mobei. Calling him Shang-Di, supreme god, felt so distant. "I liked it better when you called me Qinghua."

Slowly, Mobei raised his gaze back up to his face, expression difficult to read. But Shang Qinghua had known him long enough to see that edge of yearning in his face.

"Qinghua," Mobei said at last, like the name was actually something to treasure. The author god swallowed, feeling the way his stomach fluttered in response. "You sacrificed your place in the heavens for this king."

His place in the heavens? It clicked before he'd actually opened his mouth to ask. Mobei saw him as a god. Gods came from the heavens. And Mobei had seen him trade that option to return 'home.' He really had been able to see the system.

"I promised I would stay by your side," Shang Qinghua said at last, nodding his head. He could feel the tears running down his face, but didn't do anything about it. "I couldn't have done that if I left you here to die."

When Mobei reached a hand out, he brought him closer until the demon could touch his face, a cold touch to his lips. "Qinghua also said he was going to marry this unworthy king."

He sob-laughed, nodding his head. "There's nothing unworthy about my king. You're my favorite. You've always been my favorite, in this entire world. So fuck yes, I'm going to marry you." It took a moment to realize that the new pressure on his lip was a tiny kiss, but when he did, he made a point to kiss back, even if his lips covered Mobei's entire face and then some, because he was so happy! "I love you, my king."

"Holy shit!"

Jumping in surprise, Shang Qinghua almost fell over as he spun towards the surprised voice. His hair flying almost caught the pair balanced on a sword in the air, making them abruptly dodge away from it.

Shen Qingqiu stared at him in shock and maybe a bit of horror, Binghe half wrapped around him from behind as he rode along. Both wore their tension on their sleeves as they flew further back, out of range.

"Shang Qinghua, what did you do?!" his bro demanded. He wasn't reaching for a weapon (unlike his husband, whose hand was on his sword), but it looked like a close thing.

"Um, unlocked godhood I think?" Shang Qinghua said sheepishly. Looking at his OP son, he tried his best to project harmlessness. He didn't want to find out what protagonist halo vs. god mode meant. No thank you! "We were falling and it just... sort of happened?"

"Qinghua sacrificed his chance to return to the heavens to save this king. In turn, they returned his divine powers," Mobei said, speaking up from his hands.

"My king, it wasn't-" he tried to protest, only to be cut off.

"Qinghua could change this world from within or without. It's clear what that means," his king said, looking up at him with a stubborn set to his jaw. He would not be swayed.

And... he wasn't entirely wrong either? Shang Qinghua didn't think this was the moment to try to explain the novel and the reality of where he'd come from. In this world, that really did make him a god. At least, it did now, apparently.

Shen Qingqiu sighed, turning to his husband and guiding him to sheathe his sword again.

"I don't think you need to defend against your shishu, Binghe," he said, patting the demon's cheek. "Didn't we come here to help rescue him?"

"Shang-Shishu was a lot smaller the last time this lord saw him," Binghe said suspiciously, clearly reluctant to put away his blade but obediently doing so under his husband's command anyway.

"That's very true." Airplane's fellow transmigrator looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. "When we started looking for a cure, I didn't think we'd be trading one problem for the opposite this drastically."

Shang Qinghua laughed nervously, trying not to fidget too much considering that Mobei seemed to have little to no intentions of leaving his hands. "I didn't do it on purpose? I mean, at least I can't be eaten by your average house cat now, but I don't think I'll fit in the Northern Palace either."

"A bigger palace will be built," Mobei said, matter-of-fact.

"My king, do you have any idea how much that will cost?" he sputtered. "Not to mention it'll take ages, plus the engineering needed to make rooms big enough for someone like me. I can just go find a cave or something to shelter in until I'm back to normal. Or at least smaller!"

"What made you a giant in the first place?" Luo Binghe asked, keeping an arm firmly locked around Shen Qingqiu, not entirely relaxed. Then again, since when was he ever entirely relaxed when his husband was out in the open?

When Shang Qinghua hesitated to answer, Mobei-Jun didn't. The weight in his hand finally vanished with a burst of chill, and appeared once more on his shoulder, closer in altitude to the flying pair.

"Qinghua called for a strange being that appeared and delivered a heavenly tribulation," the demon said. "It manifested as a hovering blue square with writing, and was able to freeze all motion around it."

Shen Qingqiu's sword visibly lurched as the color drained out of his face, regarding the ice demon with horror. "You could see it?"

"See what? Shizun?" Binghe asked, immediately worried about the other man. "Do you recognize that description?"

"Nope," Shen Qingqiu said immediately. "I mean, yes, I do, but I am not having this conversation out here in midair while trying not to freeze to death. Shidi, it made you big, right? So just ask it to make you normal size."

"Um, right, I could give it a shot," Shang Qinghua said, swallowing. The idea of talking to the System right in front of his king and his son was terrifying. "Um, System? How do I make myself human sized again?"

When the System window popped up, he was very aware of the way that both demons jerked in response. It might have been a little smaller than usual to him, about the size of a sheet of paper, but that still meant it might as well have been a billboard to the others. And yesterday, that would have been an invisible billboard as far as anyone but he and Cucumber were concerned. Not anymore.

[Greetings User 001: New designation great god Shang-Di. Answering inquiry, 'how do I make myself human sized again,' user may not return to default size until completing optional questline, "Small Matters."]

Noting the way that his bro hushed Luo Binghe's startle at the name, Shang Qinghua chewed his lip. "What about going back to being tiny then?"

[There is no System tutorial for use of god mode. This System apologizes and cheers on user Shang-Di in discovering new abilities.]

"Well that's just great," he huffed, somehow less than surprised that the System wasn't going to be any help. He waved away the window, carefully turning his head until he could just see his king out of the corner of his eye. Oh, it was weird having him look so small. "It looks like that cave option's going to be more likely than you thought, my king."

Mobei-Jun very much didn't look very happy at the idea, scowling. Hey, he didn't really like the idea of cramming himself into a cold cave either!

Or... maybe not so cold. As he thought about it, he realized that he wasn't feeling nearly as cold as he'd expected to, considering how it'd felt to him before they'd been thrown off the cliff. Still! It was bound to be cramped and wet. The caves around here were often frozen, after all.

"We may not have to travel far to find one," Binghe said, speaking up as he peered past the pair towards the cliff-side that Shang Qinghua had shattered.

"Huh?"

The heavenly demon pointed, guiding Shen Qingqiu to fly them around to the giant's other side. "There."

As they flew closer, the Qing Jing peak lord gasped with delight. "Binghe's right. There's a hidden palace or something here!"

What? Shang Qinghua had gotten a good look at the valley earlier, and there'd been no palaces or buildings or anything there. But when he twisted himself around, sure enough his bro was right. It took him a second to figure out how before noticing the cracks around the entrance.

"Oh! It must have been hidden by the ice! I kind of, ah, smashed it a bit," he admitted, starting to get to his feet only to pause. He was already towering over everyone now while seated on the ground. How would they react to him getting up?

Shen Qingqiu, bless him, had no such worries. "Come on, get off your ass and get over here," he said with a snort, bringing his sword down to the frozen ground and hopping off along with Binghe to continue on foot.

"Hold on, my king," Shang Qinghua muttered under his breath as he rose up to his feet, bracing himself against the walls of ice on either side of him until he had his balance. The walk to the opening wasn't long, not for him, but he had to take it slow, watching his feet to make sure that the other two were out of range. Was this what it had felt like being around him these last few weeks?!

The opening wasn't quite tall enough for him to just walk in, but by the look of it he'd be able to bend over and walk without having to crawl. Of course, that wasn't particularly compatible with shoulder riding.

"Ah, it looks like you'll have to walk from here," he said, looking over at the demon. Mobei nodded, cutting open a portal to get down with, reappearing on the ground just far enough ahead of him that Shang Qinghua didn't worry about stepping on him as he hunched down and walked inside.

"The ceiling is higher further in!" Shen Qingqiu called from ahead of them. "But there's a door Shang-shidi might need to open!"

"Become a god and he's still bossing me around," Shang Qinghua joked dryly, rolling his eyes. "Bro never changes."

"He shows you disrespect," Mobei said, looking back at him with a frown.

The author waved it off. "Don't worry about it, my king. That's just how he is. He's actually gotten nicer since I first met him."

The demon was quiet for a moment, thinking that over. "Qinghua has mentioned that you are from the same town."

Looking at him, Shang Qinghua could tell that Mobei wasn't asking about some village anymore. "Ah... yeah. A long time ago. Before the sect." Before this life.

"Mn."

Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe were waiting in front of a huge door, in an area where the ceiling did indeed become taller. Tall enough for Shang Qinghua to stand. As long as he didn't go up on his toes or jump up, that was.

"Looks almost custom made for you," Shen Qingqiu observed, giving him a dry look.

He raised his hands up in defense. "Hey, I didn't even know this place was here until your husband pointed it out."

"Not even an old inkling?" his favorite anti-fan asked. "Some idea that you didn't end up using?"

"If it was, then I have absolutely no memory of it," Shang Qinghua said with a huff. The three on the ground moved out of the way as he walked up to the door, grabbing the huge handles and pulling slowly. "I remembered this valley, but there wasn't a giant palace hidden in it. So let's see what's inside."

The doors were stiff, so it took a lot of effort to pull them open, but An Ding cultivators had to be physically strong, and Shang Qinghua wasn't an exception to that. He'd spent too many years pushing carts, hauling crates, and dragging along heavy loads to lose that just because he was a peak lord now. As the doors creaked open, light flooded the entryway.

He wasn't the only one who gasped.

What had to be thousands of night pearls were embedded in the walls and ceilings, looking like so many stars as the light was diffused into the ice that surrounded them. The room was huge, arching well over even Shang Qinghua's head, with what was unmistakably an altar in the center. Only the back wall was dark, the pearls leading to it going dim until they were all the way dark.

Drawing his sword, Shen Qingqiu took flight on his own to rise up beside his friend's ear where he could be heard without projecting.

"I don't think this was ever a palace," he said softly. "You're sure you didn't write about a temple here?"

"I'm sure," Shang Qinghua said. "This valley was the first setting I wrote for Proud Immortal Demon Way. Before I'd even come up with a title." He looked around, trying to see what was there in the shadows of the back wall. "Before I came up with Binghe."

"Don't you start whispering with Shizun up there!" Binghe shouted from the ground, making Shen Qingqiu roll his eyes in the safety of distance.

"I'll be right down," Shen Qingqiu called back. "I just have some questions for your shishu. Be patient." He shook his head, lowering his voice once more. "If they can see the System, can it still punish us for talking about it?"

"It let Mobei hear me talk to it," the new god said, chewing on the thought. "They can see my windows. We haven't tested if they can see yours. Hey, System?"

The System window flashed open again in front of him, just like before.

[Greetings User Shang-Di.]

"Uh, hi," he said, trying to push down his nerves. "Can you... can you make the window smaller? Or more private?"

The window flickered, tinting grey as it shrunk down to the size of a postcard. Better, but still big.

[System in incognito mode. Only User Shang-Di and authorized assistants may see the contents of this window.]

"What happened? It just went blank!" Shen Qingqiu blurted, staring at it.

Okay, cool. They could work with that. "It's in incognito mode. Hang on. System, please authorize User 002 to see screen contents until told otherwise." He glanced over at his friend. "How's that?"

Shen Qingqiu nodded. "Better. It's back. Okay, so now what?"

"I think I have an idea," Shang Qinghua said, crossing his fingers that this would work. "System, what system actions does god mode enable me to do?"

A menu popped up onto the screen.

[God mode enables User Shang-Di to access world settings, transmigration rules, character profiles, plot conditions, create quest lines, and alter save files. Please use caution when making changes as some are irreversible. God mode does not allow the editing of current quest lines or make drastic changes to characters in active users, as this will corrupt current instances.]

"W-wait, did it say transmigration rules?" Shen Qingqiu asked, his eyes going wide. "Open those! Open those!"

He didn't have to tell him twice! Shang Qinghua almost missed the first time he hit the menu item, reaching so eagerly. The menu vanished and was replaced by a screen full of settings with toggles and values to set. They both scanned it desperately, Shen Qingqiu finding the setting they both wanted first and reaching for it. But of course, while he could see the setting and its on/off toggle, he couldn't interact with a god mode screen.

Shang Qinghua could. And he didn't hesitate to (gently) grab the other transmigrator to get him out of the way to reach the setting. And Shen Qingqiu didn't fight him, clinging to his fingers as he watched nervously.

[Punishment protocol is necessary to maintain the continuity of the original plot. Is User Shang-Di sure he wants to disable it?]

"Turn it off!" they both shouted at the damn computer.

The setting went gray with an almost dejected 'click.'

"Is it really off?" Shen Qingqiu asked quietly.

[Punishment protocol has been disabled.]

"Airplane, if I weren't a married man and you weren't an annoying oversized hamster, I could kiss you," his bro said, slumping in his hold.

Shang Qinghua laughed breathlessly, opening his hand to let the other man straighten up. "That's a happily engaged oversized hamster, so I'd pass anyway." Feeling something on his legs, he looked down. "Extra pass, because I think your husband would murder me, and might just be on his way to."

"What?" Shen Qingqiu peered over the edge of his hand down at the heavenly demon climbing up the god's robes. "Binghe! What are you doing?! That's indecent!"

Luo Binghe glared up at the giant god holding his husband. The one who'd grabbed him out of the air after sharing secrets with him and talking with that glowing window out of their sight. He clutched Shen Qingqiu's sword, that had fallen when he was grabbed, to his chest. "Let Shizun go!"

"That child," his husband sighed. "Airplane, could you lower me down to him?"

"Sure, bro. Just try to keep him from slicing my fingers off, okay?"

"I'll try, but no promises. You're a god. You can probably regrow them," Shen Qingqiu retorted casually as he was brought down level to where Binghe was clinging to Airplane's robes. As soon as he was close enough, he grabbed hold of his silly mate and pulled him over onto the hand. "Binghe, it's fine. Your shishu wasn't trying to hurt me. He actually did something to help us both."

"He shouldn't have grabbed you!" Binghe insisted, wrapping his arms around his husband and glaring at the god as he straightened up. "Keep your hands off my Shizun, Shang Qinghua."

Oh, that was rich coming from someone who was literally standing in his hand. He just barely kept from rolling his eyes. "Apologies, Junshang."

"If you want to get handsy with someone, keep to Mobei-Jun," the heavenly demon added with a growl. "Shizun is mine."

Producing a fan out of his robes, Shen Qingqiu lightly swatted his disciple on the head. "Shizun belongs to Shizun, Luo Binghe. Now play nice, and address your shishu properly."

That glare vanished in a heartbeat as his protagonist son pouted, whining softly. "But Shizun..."

But as entertaining as it was to see Binghe get scolded, he reminded Shang Qinghua that he hadn't heard from his king since they'd entered the temple. He looked away from the fussing couple, searching the room for the demon.

And spotted him, standing before the altar with his back to them and looking up at the shadowed wall.

"My king?" Shang Qinghua asked softly. He knelt down behind him, quietly letting his passengers free onto the floor.

Mobei looked up at him before reaching out to push a fresh pulse of qi into the extinguished night pearls. And lit the wall up, putting the mural that covered every inch of it on full display.

Oh... Was that how the System saw him? Or at least how the System translated that to fit in this world.

Shang Qinghua could recognize himself even if the figure in the mural had its face turned away. Aside from the robes they wore, identical to the ones that he'd been given, he knew the shape of that face even turned away. Not quite identical to the one he wore in this life, but not entirely different either, with curls tied back in a tail longer than he'd ever allowed himself to wear in the modern world. The pair of earrings he'd made out of shrinking plastic (fitting) translated into silver, but still in the shape of airplanes.

And even more telling was the sea of scrolls and books the figure sat among, a brush moving through them and leaving a gilded line that twisted and danced through the whole portrait, making trees and mountains and seas. Writing the world into shape.

He swallowed, and half wished that the figure could turn its face towards him. So he could maybe see his old face again. But that was too dangerous, wasn't it? And it wasn't like his face had been anything special to look at. Still, he'd used the best of his features, polished and idealized, in creating the heavenly demon standing near his feet now. And the rest to make the body he now wore.

"Well..." Shen Qingqiu said, staring at the mural. "I suppose this is as good of a place to talk as any."

"Good. Because this lord would like to know what is going on," Binghe said, only barely not growling because his beloved husband was involved. "What was that glowing square, and exactly how long has Shang Qinghua been hiding being a god?"

"Binghe, show respect," Shen Qingqiu said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "He is still your shishu."

But the heavenly demon narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the author. "Is he? Are you sure, Shizun?"

Shang Qinghua held his hands up in defense. "I promise, I've been the same person since before you were born, Junshang. You've never known a different Shang Qinghua." He started when he felt a small weight settle on his shoulder, glancing over and to see his king making himself comfortable there. "And, ah, my king, neither have you. I promise."

Mobei nodded confidently. "This king knows."

That was honestly a relief, and the new god smiled, nodding back before looking down at his annoyed son. "This servant was born human in this world. Without any powers outside those of a cultivator."

"Then explain that." And Luo Binghe pointed to the mural.

"Ah... well... um..." Shang Qinghua floundered. How did you tell someone that you were the god who created the world and everything in it, including that person?

"What your shishu meant to say, Binghe, is that he was re-born in this world," Shen Qingqiu said, cutting in with a tone that clearly said he was taking over. "After he wrote this world into being. This master would know, as he knew him before that."

Binghe's eyes went wide as he turned to stare at his teacher. "Shizun? Does that mean that you are-"

"No," the other man said quickly, flicking his fan up over his face. "Simply from the same place. And arrived here later. Brought by that glowing square. We call it the System." He paused, tense, waiting for the System to act up and deliver punishment for telling someone about it. But when nothing happened, he let out a breath of relief.

Of course, that flash of apprehension didn't escape his husband's notice, Binghe hovering around him closely. "Shizun, what has this System done to you?"

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu hesitated, glancing up at his fellow transmigrator. "There are certain... events that were written into Binghe's fate that this master was not allowed to change. Even though he wanted to. There were punishments for going against it."

Someone thinking straight might have heard that and understood that one Shang Qinghua had nothing to do with the System's enacting punishments of his bro, and would have absolutely have stopped them ahead of time if he'd been allowed to. But when it came to Shen Qingqiu's safety, Binghe didn't always think too straight. He heard 'written,' connected it to one Shang Qinghua 'writing' the world, and jumped right to 'punishments.'

"You dared!" he snarled, drawing his sword and rounding on the god. It was no Xin Mo, but he was still a heavenly demon.

With a squawk of fear, Shang Qinghua scrambled backwards as the emperor's demon qi welled up to flood the temple. "H-hey, it wasn't me!"

Binghe wasn't listening, and leapt to attack. God or not, anyone who was responsible for harming his shizun, or making him afraid, would pay. He swung.

"Binghe!"

"Junshang!"

His sword never made contact with its target, because a giant, flailing hand made contact with him instead. It sent him flying into the far wall, leaving a dent in the ice, night pearls scattering from where they'd been knocked free.

"Holy shit," Shang Qinghua breathed, staring with wide eyes at the demon as Shen Qingqiu ran to check on him. He looked down at his hand, seeing the slice that the blade had managed to make already healing up, just leaving a bit of blood behind. But it was enough to make the author mad. He hadn't even done anything!

Struggling to sit up after the impact, Luo Binghe still tried to glare up at the god as he got up and walked over to them. "You-"

"You," the author accused back, pointing a finger down at him. "Are the most unfilial son I have ever had! Attacking me for no reason! I've dealt with that fucking system too, for a lot longer than my bro here, and I sure as hell didn't set it on him! So much disrespect from you after I created you from the ground up! I. Am. Your. Father!"

The half-demon's response could only be compared to a computer blue screening. He froze, face going slack with shock.

Seeing that Binghe wasn't really hurt, Shen Qingqiu looked between the two and sighed. "I think we should handle explanations separately for a bit. Agreed?"

With the adrenaline draining even as his heart kept racing ahead at what he'd just done, Shang Qinghua swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah we probably should. My king?"

"Will remain with Qinghua," Mobei said near his ear.

Cheeks warming, he returned to the altar to give the other two space, sitting down before lifting his hand up to his shoulder and holding his breath as Mobei climbed into it. Trusting him after he'd just seen him swat Luo Binghe across the room with that same hand. (Which he still couldn't believe he'd done.)

He really did love him.

Shang Qinghua cupped his hands in his lap, watching his king make himself comfortable. "I suppose you have a lot of questions too."

"Some," Mobei said, looking up at him. "Your son?"

"Ah." Of course he'd ask about that first. Blushing, he fought the urge to squirm. "It's- um- I never slept with his mother, I promise! Or Tianlang-Jun! They're his birth parents one hundred percent! But I made him. He's one of the people I crafted by hand."

"Does Qinghua consider all of them his sons?" Mobei asked, frowning as he tried to puzzle it out. Especially when his god dared to laugh. "Well?"

"No, my king, no!" Shang Qinghua said, outright giggling at the thought. "At least not seriously! I've entertained the thought of 'ah, that's my favorite son' when Mu Qingfang makes me tea, or 'and that's why you're my least favorite son' when Liu Qingge breaks down another door, but that's not the same thing!"

The ice demon raised an eyebrow. "Is it not?"

"Absolutely not. Because, you see, when I created this world, it was by writing a story," he said, thinking how to say it. Without giving his king an existential crisis, preferably. "And the story was about Luo Binghe. Most of the rest just came into being around him." Seeing Mobei's expression begin to darken, he raised him up higher to eye level. "Except for the Northern Desert."

Mobei blinked, confusion replacing the anger that'd threatened to form. Which was good! He didn't want his king to be unhappy, or to think that he was just a byproduct of making Luo Binghe because he absolutely wasn't.

Of course, telling him the truth was... well, it was a little embarrassing.

"You see, my king, I created the Northern Desert first of all regions. Because I needed a place for my best and favorite creation to live and rule," he said, red flooding his face. And so close, there was no way that Mobei wouldn't see it. "By all rights, you should have been the center of it all, but... This is going to sound bad, but I didn't want to share you."

Mobei stared up at the god with wide eyes, Qinghua's words echoing in his ears. He didn't want to share him. His best and favorite. Him. The demon who had treated the man as a servant for decades, was still his favorite as a god. He barely knew what to do with the rush of desire for the god holding him in his hands. Who wouldn't let him kneel before him (he would convince him of that, later, once they'd made their bows).

"Mobei?" Shang Qinghua asked shyly, unsure.

It was a tone that Mobei-Jun wanted to wipe from his Qinghua's lips for good. "Qinghua will never need to share this king. He belongs to his god and future husband, and to no one else. This Mobei-Jun will serve you for the rest of his life."

The god made a small, wounded sound at the reversal of his own oath from years ago before Mobei was all but crushed to his chest, held close enough to feel the pounding of Shang Qinghua's heart. Mobei felt... protected. Loved. It was a heavy feeling, and not one that he was used to. Or willing to give up now that he'd tasted it. Even if the feeling of being small wasn't one he was completely comfortable with, it was fine as long as it was with Qinghua. The feeling of being so much weaker than someone was fine, when Qinghua was the stronger party. Only him, and no one else.

"My king, you really are too perfect," Shang Qinghua said, bringing him up further and curling over him so he could speak the words into the demon's hair.

"Qinghua is perfect," Mobei corrected. He leaned his head back, getting a brush of lips over his face for it.

And a laugh. The laugh was even better. Even if Mobei didn't particularly like the words that came after. "My king, you can't really think I'm perfect, of all people. I'm just glad to be good enough for you. That's plenty for me."

"Hmph. Qinghua is perfect, except for his blindness to his own worth."

The god ducked his head, trying to hide his face. "My kiiiing..."

"This master hopes we haven't returned at a bad time?"

Caught in the middle of hugging (and maybe a little crying on his part), Shang Qinghua flushed red and briefly wondered if his god mode powers could let him get swallowed up by the floor on command.

But at least Binghe looked calmer standing behind Shen Qingqiu, even if he was staring at Shang Qinghua weirdly. Bro, what did you tell him?

"This master believes that Binghe has something to say to his shishu," Shen Qingqiu said, glancing over his shoulder at his husband.

Luo Binghe looked like he'd rather go make friends with Ming Fan, but he sulked his way forward, bowing. Which looked very weird coming from the emperor of the demon realm, but he wasn't going to comment! That had been two times now!

"This disciple apologizes for attacking Shang-shishu," Luo Binghe said. "He should not have been so quick to react to a misunderstanding."

"Oh, um, it's okay, really," Shang Qinghua said. Because now that the flash of anger had long subsided, he was kind of embarrassed over his own reaction. "If I thought someone had set the System on someone I cared about, I'd be pissed off too. So, forgive and forget? And, ah, about what I said..."

Binghe's shoulders didn't quite relax, but he no longer looked like he was swallowing lemons. Or expecting an attack. "Shizun said you created this lord. That you created this world." He paused. "He suggested we build a temple someplace warmer."

"Wha-" The author choked, staring at his fellow transmigrator. "Bro!"

"I refuse to come here and freeze half to death just to keep you in prayers," the man sniffed, bringing his fan up over his face once more. "And I don't want you coming over to whine about it. You obviously won't be building any in the human realm until after you tell the others in the sect, which I doubt will be any time soon, so gaining you followers in the demon realm is the clear solution. You created both, after all. Just don't expect them to be as big as this one. They're temples, not guest rooms."

"Bro... you're actually planning to worship me?" Shang Qinghua asked. He didn't think Shen Qingqiu had gotten hit on the head. Had he had a quiet qi deviation off during his corner time with Binghe? "I mean, I know you looked up to me and all, but- Ow! Hey!"

Shen Qingqiu looked away calmly, as though he hadn't just thrown his fan with deadly precision and more than a little qi to smack his friend right between the eyes. "Dream on. Five seventy-two."

What? He almost asked the other man what in the world he was talking about before a vague memory popped up. Wife number 572 had been a goddess brought down from the heavens by a curse. She'd of course fallen for Binghe and stayed to marry him, but she needed prayers to sustain her powers away from the heavens. (Her new husband hadn't built her any temples, but, well, he had his own form of worship to deliver.)

Which? Actually just made it super sweet from his bro? Even if Shang Qinghua really doubted it was going to be a thing because he'd never actually been to the heavens.

"Which reminds me," his fellow transmigrator said, producing a second fan from his sleeves. "Seeing as you've managed to make this size situation even more complicated now, have you given much thought into fixing it?"

"Um, not really?" he admitted. "I think I was sort of just waiting for Mu-shidi to come up with a solution."

"If there is a medication based solution to be found, considering the origins of the flower," Shen Qingqiu said. He delivered a very pointed glance between Shang Qinghua and the demon making himself comfortable in his hand. "Would this master be correct in saying you haven't tried the traditional method? It's cured so many things before."

Between the look and the fact that Cucumber knew his book, it didn't take clarification to know exactly what he was talking about. And it didn't take more than a second before his face was burning so hot he was surprised Mobei hadn't moved away. "Bro!"

"I'm just saying. You've made it the cure for so many things. It's worth trying."

"Shizun, what's the traditional method?" Binghe asked, blinking with confusion.

And up went the fan as Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat. "Never you mind."

"But if it cures many things, shouldn't this disciple know in case he needs to treat Shizun for something?" Binghe asked, his eyes going watery with tears. "Why won't you tell this disciple?"

Served him right. Still, Shang Qinghua showed his bro a little bit of mercy. "Shixiong, how about you and Lord Luo go rest up at the Northern Palace? You must have rushed here, and I'm sure you're tired."

Shen Qingqiu latched onto that olive branch quickly enough to give himself whiplash. "Ah, yes. Terribly exhausted. Binghe's usual guest room is free, I hope?" Without waiting for an answer, he latched onto Binghe's sleeve and hustled his husband out of the temple. "Shidi, come say hello when you've handled this little issue."

Handled it. Easy for him to say. He was at least at the same scale as his lover!

Mobei remained silent until the other two had long vanished out the thankfully still open doors. Only then did he look up at the god. "What is the traditional method?"

Right. Now it was his turn to explain that. And unlike his shixiong... he couldn't just distract his demon. Especially not if Shen Qingqiu was right. "It's a bit embarrassing to explain, but you know how there are tons of plants and things in the southern regions that have special effects?"

"The aphrodisiacs, you mean," his king said, showing no mercy. "They seem rather plentiful in your human realm as well."

"In parts of it, yeah," he admitted.

"Your poison was not one of those," Mobei said with a frown. "This king would have noticed."

"No, no, you're right, and I'm getting to the point." The point being that even without some fancy plant to make him horny, thinking about this while holding his king in his hands was starting to make certain parts of him stand up and take notice! "But there's lots of other things that, kind of on the flip side of that, require special things to cure." Come on Qinghua, you were being the opposite of clear on this. So he blurted it out before he could talk himself out of the subject. "Dual cultivation! The traditional method is dual cultivation."

Not for the first time, Mobei-Jun went still as he processed that little bit of information. The ideal of being able to cure his cultivator in such a way was more than appealing. Now and in the future, should the need arise. (And knowing how good his god was at getting into trouble, the need would arise.) He deliberately uncurled his fingers, claws trying to dig their way into his palms.

"This king will help you," he said, voice dropping as the hunger for the other rose.

Shang Qinghua sputtered. "My king, I'm not even sure how we'd be able to! Not that I'm saying I don't want to because holy fuck do I want to, but I'm a giant! How are we going to make the logistics of this work!"

Mobei looked up at him with amusement. "Isn't my Qinghua a master of logistics?"

"That- That's not the same thing! You are not a crate of supplies, my king, and I am not a warehouse!" he whined, trying to shift to hide the fact that he was starting to get hard. It wasn't his fault! His king was just too sexy to be allowed!

And more to that point, said king had taken the initiative to undo his belt, allowing his robes to slide down from his shoulders, the sight bringing one god's brain to a halt. Especially considering that the demon was looking directly at him. He whimpered. Oh, that wasn't fair.

"This king's research did not cover this situation, no, but he believes he might have read enough to start from," Mobei-Jun said, his cloak sliding off into Shang Qinghua's hand, followed by his robes.

Shang Qinghua nearly swallowed his tongue, unable to look away from the fucking strip tease his king was doing. In his hand! What kind of wet dream had he fallen into?! And how did he make sure that he never came out of it?

"My king, you really don't have to," he sputtered, even as his hard-on clearly disagreed! Especially when Mobei-Jun hopped down from his hand and onto his lap, grabbing hold of one side of his robes to start pulling it aside, layer by layer.

"No, but I want to." Mobei looked up at him, giving the silk a pointed tug. "This would be easier if Qinghua removed his belt."

He wanted to. Mobei wanted to do this with him! Sure, the demon had already said he wanted to marry him, and made plenty of indications about wanting more, but hearing him say it directly made his pulse skyrocket. Swallowing, Shang Qinghua hurried to undo the ties of his belt, almost unseating his king in his haste to get it off and tossed to the side.

"Let this servant help," the god said, his hands shaking as he pulled open the layers of the robes. More than he usually wore, finer than he usually wore, but they parted easily, sliding down his arms. He didn't know what sort of picture that made, except that Mobei's gaze burned when his king looked up at him. Really, he couldn't be anything all that special to look at. "My king..."

"Qinghua is beautiful," Mobei said firmly, as though reading the other man's doubts straight from his mind. It felt like both a statement and a command to agree with him.

"I'm nothing comp-Ng!" Shang Qinghua choked on his words with a squeak, because the demon had decided his place standing on the god's leg wasn't good enough anymore, and moved to sit on the bulge he was making in his pants instead. And he couldn't believe it was anything but deliberate with the way that his king oozed smugness.

"Qinghua is beautiful," Mobei repeated, because obviously the man hadn't understood him the first time. And he displayed no issue with rocking his way up to reach the drawstrings of Shang Qinghua's pants, even as it made him gasp high above his head. A quick pull undid the knot and he gave an insistent yank to the waistband. "Off."

"M-my king, I can't take them off with you sitting there," Shang Qinghua whimpered, unable to take his eyes away. Still trying to wrap his head around the fact that this was actually happening. "And... and you're still wearing yours!"

Mobei-Jun seemed to consider that for a moment before cocking his head back. "Take them off of this king then."

Was his king trying to kill him through making his heart explode? Was that how he finally decided to do him in? Because he seemed to be well on his way there at this rate! Especially with the way that the demon leaned into his hands as he picked him up in one, undoing his pants and slowly, so slowly, drawing them down.

He'd seen his king naked more than once, including somewhat recently, but he'd never seen him naked and hard. Hard for him, even. And holy fuck, but he was somehow more beautiful than ever, sprawling in his hand like it was a royal throne. Or the best seat in a harem of one. Because oh god (oh him?), Shang Qinghua wanted him.

When he'd stared a little too long, Mobei raised an eyebrow at him. "Qinghua's turn."

"Ah, right," Shang Qinghua said, nervousness swelling up again. "I hope my king won't be disappointed. This one isn't as gifted, but, well, I guess it's not going to matter right now, right?"

"Nothing about my god can disappoint," Mobei said, stubborn. He allowed himself to be placed down on the floor, watching the other man as he finally slid his last layer down, exposing everything to his king's eyes.

Mobei had rather thought that his first time with his human would be where he could lay him out on a bed and take him apart piece by piece, feeling Qinghua's body around him so hot it burned. He'd fantasized about it so many times. His human under him, flushed and shy, but opening up for him. This couldn't be more different, but that didn't mean he would shy away from it. The sooner Qinghua returned to normal, the sooner he could act out that fantasy in every detail.

And he couldn't deny that having his future husband so strong and powerful in front of him didn't make his heart race. Qinghua's strength had always come in different ways from his own, in wit and intellect. This was yet another new form. One he couldn't hope to reach, but desired all the same. He walked closer, seeing the way that his god's thighs trembled on either side of him. "Allow this king."

"Okay," his god whispered. One of the terms he'd used before, from his 'home town.' Which Mobei now believed had to be the heavens. What mattered was that Mobei had long since figured out it meant 'yes.'

It ought to be humbling, being able to climb up onto another man's cock like a mount, but instead, it made the demon feel powerful, feeling the other's pulse run between his legs as he wrapped them around it. He could already tell the way he brought his god pleasure, just based on the hitch in Qinghua's breath.

Qinghua's hands hovered nearby before dropping to support himself, as if not sure if he was allowed to touch. Something Mobei would never deny him. But this was fine too. It allowed him to start small, find how to draw those sounds he wanted out of the other. Slowly, he began to move his body against the heated flesh, tightening his legs to give Qinghua what friction he could. Drinking in the way his god shuddered above him.

It was almost a shame to turn around and lose the sight of his future husband's face, but Mobei had work to do. Repositioning himself facing towards the head of that cock, he drew himself up towards the tip. Pearly-white precum was already beginning to well up, the drips sliding down Qinghua's shaft where they lubricated the way for Mobei to grind against him more easily before he gave into the temptation to lean forward and taste it directly.

The angle that created rubbed his own cock deliciously against the god's, but the real reward was a low moan he felt almost as strongly as he heard.

"Mobei..."

He glanced back and up over his shoulder, reveling in the flushed state of the other man's face, the way that those eyes were locked on him despite being halfway closed. He would have dreams about the way Qinghua's lips fell open in another gasp when he twisted his hips again. How would those lips feel against his skin? Would they leave burns in their path the way his cock threatened to do to his thighs?

On an impulse, the northern king pulled himself up to the head of his god's cock, thrusting his own against that flushed crown before dipping his fingers into the slit. Their difference in size meant they slid in easily, but Qinghua's whimper told him that it was still felt even if the man was still uncharacteristically wordless.

Taking that sign and running with it, the demon began to thrust his fingers in and out of the slit, which was wet and slippery from precum. Mobei had to tighten his grip when Qinghua's hips thrust up in response or risk being thrown off. Which just encouraged him to grind more, push his fingers deeper, and use more of his body to wrap around his god's cock. Use more of it to pleasure him.

"My- my- my king, ah!" his lover gasped, barely able to get the words out. It was a beautiful sound.

Mobei shifted down again until he could just bend his head to replace those fingers with his tongue, pushing it as deep as he could before curling it inside. He growled his god's name against his flesh, stroking and touching as much as he could.

Which turned out to be all that the other man could stand to just sit and have done for him.

The demon wasn't given any warning before a hand wrapped around him, pressing him up against Qinghua's cock and stroking him over it. He let out a gasp of his own as he was pulled from that tip, the hot friction along his whole body making his head spin. And then he felt that pulse against him as his god cried out, cum spurting over hand and demon as Qinghua continued to stroke them, only slowing to a stop after Mobei was thoroughly coated. For a minute, he just held him there, panting for breath. Until he abruptly realized what he'd done.

Qinghua jerked his hand away with an alarmed squeak, almost taking Mobei with it when his cum stuck them together. "My king! This servant is so sorry! Are you alright?"

Mobei-Jun was tempted to let himself just lay there in post sex laziness, but Qinghua would worry. So he pushed himself up slowly, still wrapped around the now softening cock, and turned to look up at him. "This king is well. Qinghua does not need to apologize."

He still found himself scooped up and inspected, which brought his attention to the thorough mess his advisor had made of him. And, finding that he did not mind it at all, he brought his hand to his mouth to lick clean. Which certainly had the added benefit of making Qinghua squeak as he stared, instead of fretting.

"Has Qinghua felt any change in his ability to return to human form?" Mobei asked after determining that it didn't matter so much that his hands were clean, considering that very little of the rest of him was. He could have frozen it off, but if his god was still cursed, it was unlikely that he would stay clean for now.

Not that the thought bothered him. Far to the contrary.

Shang Qinghua paused, his cheeks still adorably flushed. "Ah, no. I don't feel any different. In that way at least." He glanced down at him sideways, shy after taking control so thoroughly not long ago. Adorable. "It might be that... well, that neither of us entered the other. When you dual cultivate, there usually needs to be penetration. Though I'm not quite sure how that's going to work right now..."

"Hm." His god had a good point. While demons could take a lot of abuse from their bed partners, Mobei doubted that he would be able to stretch enough to take in the cock he'd just been wrapped around. His eyes were drawn down to that cock, which seemed to be recovering already from the attention alone. "This king could fit."

"Fit where?!" Shang Qinghua sputtered, looking between his lap and the demon in his hands.

Mobei-Jun pointed. "Qinghua enjoyed it when several fingers were inside."

"That's not the same thing at all! My king's cock is a lot bigger than a few fingers!"

"Then this king will be gentle," Mobei said, as if he didn't plan on being already. His god deserved that gentleness. He'd told him that he didn't like pain, after all. So he would endeavor not to cause any. "And once Qinghua returns to human form, I will take him properly."

The god's low whine told him all that he needed to hear to know that he'd won. Especially when he was lowered to stand on the floor in front of the other man. Looking up at him, Mobei hoped that curing the curse would not mean that Qinghua never assumed this form again, as looking up and seeing him like that, looming over him while under power of desire for him... He felt himself grow harder than even before.

Flushed red, Qinghua used a hand to hold his cock down in reach. "I'm ready, my king."

"One moment." Kneeling down, Mobei pressed his lips to the tip, savoring the sound of his god's sharp little inhale. Perfect. Only then did he rise up back onto his feet and guide his cock to that slit. He pushed in slowly, listening for any sounds of unhappiness from his future husband. Not that Shang Qinghua couldn't remove him if he didn't like it, but Mobei had doubts that he would.

The heat inside should have been uncomfortable, but Mobei couldn't help but to push deeper. Qinghua had been right about him being a good deal larger than his fingers, which had slid in so easily, meaning that the passage was tight enough to squeeze him, even if there were no muscles there to tighten and grip his cock as he began to rock.

Above him, his god gasped and panted for breath, his eyes sliding closed. A pity, because Mobei still hadn't gotten enough of the way Qinghua looked at him. Would never get enough.

"When Qinghua returns to his human form," he grunted, grasping the large head for leverage as he sped up his thrusts. "We will not be leaving my chambers for three days. At least."

Shang Qinghua shuddered, having to lean forward and use his free hand to support himself, those tempting lips parted infuriatingly out of reach. He wanted to kiss him as he took him, to carve out a place for himself between his Qinghua's legs as they wrapped around him. Even without looking away, he could imagine it so clearly as he thrust.

"Harder," the god whispered hoarsely, hips twitching with an aborted jerk. Staying still for his king must have been difficult. Mobei might have been willing to show him mercy, if he were able. Might. "Please, my king..."

"Mn." Adjusting his grip on that giant cock, Mobei shifted his feet before beginning to pound into the yielding hole and into that wet heat. He could see the way that his thrusts frothed up his god's precum once again, this time before it even had a chance to come out. What would it be like when Qinghua came? The thought made his mouth dry as he attacked with even greater enthusiasm. Eager to find out.

Ultimately, he wasn't sure if it was that snug warmth around his cock that made him come, or the way that his god's little gasps and whines became so increasingly desperate. Mobei thrust as deeply as he could before he gave in and released with a groan. Shuddering, he began to pull himself free before Shang Qinghua lurched and shifted his weight so he could stop him with a hand. "Wait!"

"Qinghua?" he asked, looking up at him. Seeing the flushed face, and the need in his eyes.

"Don't pull out yet," the god pleaded breathlessly. "I'm almost- ah, almost there."

As if he could go against his wishes. Mobei slid back into place, letting himself enjoy the afterglow like that. "As my god wishes."

"Fuck," Shang Qinghua breathed. But now that he knew Mobei wasn't going to move, he braced himself with that hand again and began to stroke himself with the other.

A lesser demon might have been annoyed that their lover finished themselves off so. Mobei was no lesser demon. Qinghua had already come once. And what could a demon's stamina be to a god's? Never mind that he knew himself to be very small compared to him at the moment. Instead, he groaned softly at the sight and the way that his lover's cock twitched in his grasp.

When the god came with a gasp, Mobei was pushed out of place by the force of it, stumbling back as he was coated. A splash upward meant he had to close his eyes as he didn't turn his face away quickly enough. So he didn't see when Qinghua reached for him, only feeling his fingers as they wrapped gently around him and lifted him from the floor.

"Fuck that's sexy," the giant whispered, fingertips moving over the demon's body lightly, like he still wasn't quite sure he was allowed to, but wanting to. Wanting to so very much. "My king, may I try something?"

"This Mobei belongs to his god," Mobei said, shivering under the touches while he leaned back into his hold. "Qinghua may do whatever he pleases with him."

There was a pause as he heard the god's breath catch before Mobei felt warm breath over his skin. And then something hot and wet pressed to his stomach and dragged up over his chest and he let out a gasp of his own, realizing what it was in an instant.

Qinghua's tongue. He was licking him.

Mobei's head spun as that tongue seemed to move every inch of his body, curling around limbs and making his nerves sing with every pass. When lips pressed over his face and the tip of Qinghua's tongue delicately cleaned the cum from his cheeks, the demon opened his mouth and wordlessly thanked his new god that Qinghua got the hint. Only the very tip fit before the god's tongue was quickly too wide to, but it was enough to completely fill his mouth, blocking off his air before Qinghua pulled away to continue back down back to his chest.

He opened his eyes, catching his breath as he looked up at those half lowered lids, shivering when Qinghua hummed softly in pleasure. But when the peak lord saw him watching, he abruptly pulled away, leaving Mobei cleaned of cum, but coated in a thin layer of saliva instead.

"Ah, my king..." Qinghua said, flustered. "That's better, right? Cleaner?"

Mobei nodded his head, feeling particularly boneless in his hands. "Mn." He allowed his power to reach out, freezing the spit before shattering it off his skin. Easier than doing the same with semen. "Thank you."

"Of course, my king," Shang Qinghua said, cheeks warm. As if to say that he hadn't just done it for Mobei. "But... this servant isn't sure that it's working."

"Qinghua is not a servant," Mobei reminded him, frowning as he turned the thought over. He had finished inside Qinghua's body, but the god's orgasm would have clearly flushed any of his seed immediately out of his cock. "Perhaps it is the body parts used."

"I'm not sure which else we could use!" Shang Qinghua said, shoulders sinking. "You're too small for me to take you. I mean, I'm too big. My king of course isn't small by any meaning of the word. And surely this serv- ah, this master is too big for my king to take him!"

The demon paused. "Why would he be?"

Shang Qinghua blinked. "Huh? Um, well, as impressive as demons are, my king, I really don't think you can stretch that much."

"The other one," Mobei corrected, not rolling his eyes because it was clearly beneath his dignity to do so. "This king can take Qinghua."

Shang Qinghua tried very hard to keep his response to that suggestion off of his face, but it wasn't easy! As tall and impressive as his king was, right now he was like a sexy pixy without wings in his hand. And picturing him trying to fuck his ass was... it was funny!

The stormy look on Mobei's face told him that something had slipped through, and he cringed, quick to make his apologies. "I'm sorry, my king! It's just that we're such different sizes! And the two parts of the body are not the same!"

"This king will try," the demon said stubbornly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Put me down and get on your stomach."

"Are you going to be able to reach?" Shang Qinghua asked hesitantly. But he knew an order from his king, and, god or not, it wasn't in his nature to directly disobey Mobei's orders. He carefully set him down to the side where he wouldn't bump against him rolling over, and positioned himself on his belly, robe underneath him to protect from the cold of the frozen floor.

When Mobei got between his legs, he lost his view of the demon, and wasn't sure what he was doing until there was a sudden chill directly against his balls, making him yelp and jerk. The cold abruptly vanished, letting him breathe in a sigh of relief before a small weight landed on them from behind. Was Mobei standing..?

"Fuck," he breathed, eyes wide.

"Your hands," Mobei ordered from his position. "Hold your cheeks apart."

Easier said than done laying flat. He tried not to squirm too much as he shifted his weight and arched back to reach, trying not to picture how he looked in the awkward position. It was much more interesting to focus on the feeling of tiny hands bracing against him, waiting for the feeling of Mobei's cock.

It... was there. But compared to the last two rounds, Shang Qinghua thought that he noticed the press of his king's hips against him much more than the actual penetration. Which? He absolutely rejected as being the first time actually having sex with his king! If only he just weren't so fucking big!

The thought had barely gone through his mind before the world suddenly shifted around him and he was falling towards the floor. But not for long, a hand catching him out of the air as he and his rescuer landed in a roll.

Shang Qinghua laid on his back in a daze as the hand uncurled and he found himself once again staring at a giant ice demon looming over him.

"Um... am I small again?" he asked, breaking the silence between the two of them. Mobei nodded wordlessly. "Ah. Um, good. I guess."

"Good?" Mobei asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'll be able to fit in the palace again?" Shang Qinghua said, actually not entirely sure if it was good or not. It didn't mean he'd deactivated god-mode, did it? "System?"

The blue window appeared promptly, making his king frown above him.

[Greetings, User Shang-Di.]

"Why am I small again?" he asked. The changed username was kind of encouraging at least.

[User wished not to be as large. This System interpreted that as wishing to return to small form.]

"What is it saying?" Mobei asked, sitting up without putting the cultivator down.

Right, so privacy mode must still be on. "I, ah, shrunk myself back, by accident? By wanting it?" he said awkwardly. "I guess I should be careful about wanting to be too big, in case I turn back into a giant inside and break a hallway or something." And clarify to the System that it really should ask for confirmation next time! It did it when they were falling to their deaths, but not for something like this? Consistency please!

Mobei nodded. "Use caution. Qinghua would not be happy while the repairs were underway."

"No, no, I would not be. I'm behind on the budget as it is."

The demon snorted as he got to his feet and carried Shang Qinghua up to the altar, setting him upon it before proceeding to gather their clothes, scattered all about the room. Shang Qinghua's, thankfully, had shrunk back down with him. Unfortunately, they'd also returned to being the wedding robes that Sha Hualing had shoved him into.

He'd expected Mobei to bring his clothes to him so they could both get dressed, but the demon merely tucked the red robes into the same bundle he made of his own clothes before scooping him up again.

"Um, my king, what are you doing?" he asked, confused. "Shouldn't we get dressed?"

"Later," Mobei said, tucking the bundle under an arm and holding the shrunken god to his chest. He moved to cut a portal in the air.

Nothing happened.

Nothing happened the second time he tried it either, except for the scowl forming on his face. Which he only slightly softened before looking down at Shang Qinghua. "Your temple does not allow this king to use his shadow abilities."

"Well, I guess we'll have to walk out first?" Shang Qinghua said, feeling like he should be covering himself up. Despite the fact that his king had only just been very much up close and personal with his body, at many times his size. "But clothes first! I'm not stepping outside without putting something on! I'll freeze!"

Mobei huffed and reluctantly fished out the red silk from his bundle of robes. But instead of just handing them over, he shook out each layer one at a time and insisted on holding them up so Shang Qinghua could slide into them, helping him dress.

"My king should wear something too," he said, very aware of the fact that Mobei was still quite naked, all of that beautiful skin on full display. Tying his belt, the author tried to finger comb his hair out. Whatever magical girl transformation his outfit had gone through, it hadn't given him anything new for it, and he realized with a sinking feeling that the crown his king had given him was gone.

It hadn't escaped Mobei's attention either, the demon frowning down at him.

"Sorry, I think the General must have taken the betrothal bead," Shang Qinghua admitted, swallowing. He knew it wasn't really his fault, but that didn't make it feel any better.

"This king will replace it," Mobei-Jun said. He delicately curled a length of the god's hair around the tip of a claw. Feeling those eyes on him, Shang Qinghua felt very aware that he'd been once again put into wedding robes. This time by Mobei-Jun himself. "When Qinghua is free of his curse, he will be given many, so all who see him will know who he is loved by."

Cold? Did Shang Qinghua say that he was cold? Because the author was pretty sure his face was suddenly on fire. Maybe he'd been wrong about Mobei being an ice demon after all. Because how could an ice demon make him feel so warm all of a sudden, huh? Clearly, the Abyssal side of his bloodline was coming through in more than just his shadows!

And from the small smirk that slipped through on his king's face before he turned to pull on his pants and a single layer of robes, Mobei knew exactly what he was doing too! Which was utterly unfair! Unfair like how good he looked like that, with a just rolled out of bed style that Shang Qinghua couldn't carry off in a million years.

Covered to the bare minimum, Mobei rolled the other layers together before offering a hand to the once again tiny god. And considering he was very ready to get inside someplace actually private and secure, Shang Qinghua didn't wait to climb into it. The temple was nice, yes, and the mural was (massive!) very flattering, but he wanted the swiftly becoming familiar walls of Mobei's chambers around him again. And after being kidnapped, nearly falling to his doom, becoming a god, and then finally getting it on with his king, he wanted to just bury his face in the pillows and scream a bit. Or sleep.

What he didn't want was to deal with any other demons than the one carrying him out through the big doors of the temple.

So, universe? Fuck you too.

Because Tianlang-Jun had the curiosity of a cat, and stood leaning against the edge of one of those big doors when they exited, and he had the look of a house-cat who'd figured out how to open the bag of treats without getting caught.

Mobei-Jun stiffened, his fingers curling around the author tighter, holding him close. "Tianlang-Jun."

"Young Mobei," the heavenly demon greeted cheerfully in return before looking down at him. "Master Shang. Or, from what I heard my son asking his husband, should I be using another title?"

"Nope, nope, that one's fine!" Shang Qinghua said quickly. Bro, couldn't you keep Binghe quiet long enough to get away from eavesdroppers?! There are a million ways to keep his mouth busy, and he knew that the emperor would be up for any and all of them!

"Hm. Well, I see that I didn't need to come out to help after all," Tianlang-Jun continued, eyes sparkling. "Too bad. It must have been quite the fight, to bring down a whole cliff like you did. Who would have thought there was something sealed inside the ice."

"This king recommends returning to the palace," Mobei said, his jaw tense.

And Shang Qinghua was right there with him. He didn't want Tianlang-Jun, or anyone else for that matter, to go poking around in the temple. Even without worrying about the mural and all that it suggested. They'd just made a mess in there and anyone with a nose, especially a demon nose, would be able to tell what'd happened!

"Of course, of course," the former emperor said casually, waving a hand. "I just wanted to be the first to offer my congratulations. You will allow this lord to help with the wedding preparations?"

Mobei-Jun growled without answering, cutting open a portal and leaving Tianlang-Jun behind in the entrance as he swept them away.

Chapter Text

And as he shook off the chill of the portal, Shang Qinghua quickly forgot about him as Mobei delivered him into his chambers, walking directly for the bed. Especially when the one layer of robes that his king had been willing to put on hit the floor before they were halfway across the room.

"My king? I don't think dual cult- eep!" He let out a squeak when Mobei pushed him onto his back, grabbing hold of the red pants by the ankles and pulled them off with a smooth yank, followed by a claw catching his belt and ripping the ties holding it closed. "Mobei!"

"There are more things to try," Mobei murmured, spreading the author's ropes open. He flicked his eyes up to Shang Qinghua's face, and the god shivered at just how hungry he looked.

He swallowed, staring back up at him. He could see his reflection in his king's eyes, exposed and ruffled, wreathed in wedding red.

Fuck. He was going to figure out the demon equivalent to a fruit basket and send Sha Hualing one. Because whether this fixed his curse or not, he wanted Mobei to look at him like that for the rest of time.

"Okay," he said, feeling light-headed as he let his legs spread. "Let's try them."

Shang Qinghua's only warning was the flash of desire in his king's eyes before the demon's mouth descended on him, Mobei's fingers pushing his legs wider to give him room. His tongue was cool, but it was wet and it was there. He cried out as it wasted no time dragging over his groin, tasting his cock and balls all in one sweep.

"M-my king!" he gasped, reaching up. What for, he didn't know, just that he had to touch him, any part of him. Even just the nose that buried itself against his stomach while Mobei twisted that tongue against him and made his eyes roll back. "Please..."

He didn't even know what he was begging for, but that didn't make the way Mobei growled against him any less intoxicating, those vibrations moving carrying on from his mouth into the tiny god's body. No amount of dreaming could match this.

And then that demon tongue pointed and dipped in, and his brain simply shorted out as he came with a whimper.

Mobei's lips curled against him as he smirked, licked him again to clean up the spilled cum, and then kept going.

That tongue couldn't push in more than the very tip, but Shang Qinghua panted desperately for breath as it flexed and pressed, stretching him open and making his legs shake. And he didn't know what the System's idea of a god had for a refractory period, but his cock was already beginning to perk up again, still so sensitive after the last time.

"Mobei," he gasped, trying to squirm away from the flexible organ, trying to recapture some of his ability to think. Or at least get the world to stop spinning. "M-mercy!"

But there were reasons that the Mobei clan were not exactly known for their mercy. And his Mobei-Jun, the one that Shang Qinghua had poured the most of his attention and detail into creating, was such a prime example of that. The author found himself rolled over with his legs pushed up to his chest before Mobei wrapped his lips around him. Not just his cock. His entire fucking ass. Mobei kept his teeth away from the author's skin, but he could feel their firmness just on the other side of the lips that kept him trapped in delicious torture, the points of his canines bracketing his thighs.

Leaving his hole alone for now, Mobei returned to using his tongue on the rest, thrusting it beneath him so Shang Qinghua straddled it, and pressing upward to trap his cock between it and his belly before he began to fucking purr around him. The author barely noticed when Mobei made himself comfortable on the bed, stretching out with one hand up to cradle his god against his mouth, but he definitely noticed when his king reached down with his other one to leisurely stroke himself, staring even as he gasped and shuddered under the teasing.

His king was huge. Okay, so everything about him was huge right now, but that didn't make his mouth water any less at the sight. Common sense was the furthest thing from his mind when he reached his hand out like he could just reach it if he tried.

"My king- Mobei," he panted, gasping when the demon sucked around him with a hum. "Please, I want- ah..."

"Hm?" Mobei asked wordlessly around him, the vibration of his voice making Shang Qinghua moan.

The An Ding peak lord could usually talk circles around anyone given half a chance to do it. But right now, he struggled to get a whole word out between his own gasps and whines as his king treated him like a particularly tasty candy, as though he could lick all the way to his core with another stroke. And gods, he wasn't entirely wrong.

"There!" he finally forced out, pointing. "I want- Oooh... I want to be there!"

He felt Mobei's soft growl as much as he heard it before being freed from his lips to collapse in his king's hand, panting for air. There was absolutely no strength in his body. Mobei had sucked all that away.

"Qinghua wishes to ride this king?" his demon asked, his voice low and thick with desire.

It made the author god swallow, looking up at him. "My king will need to help me. He's stolen all my strength."

From the smirk on his king's lips, Shang Qinghua didn't think he minded. Nor from the way Mobei sat up against the pillows and brought his horny little handful down to place him directly onto the shaft of his cock. "Shall I follow Qinghua's example?"

His example? It wasn't until Mobei laid his hand down over his back, pressing him against slick flesh, that it clicked, the memory of using his king like some toy in desperate need to finish fresh in his mind. The memory that made his cock twitch. "Fuck yes," he breathed as he understood.

Mobei was gentler with him than he'd been in the heat of passion, starting slow as he drew the god up and down the length of his cock. In his head, he knew that this hadn't cured his curse earlier, and it probably wouldn't in reverse, but fuck he didn't care. He tried to wrap his legs around it, to make it better, but they weren't long enough to reach by a long shot. Still he squeezed with his thighs, and far above him his king purred in approval as he started to move him faster.

Before, he'd been so caught up in the moment that he hadn't even thought about anything other than need. In reverse, being used like a favorite toy by his beautiful king, he couldn't help be light-headed. (Having his face regularly pressed into the flesh of that cock, blocking off his air, didn't help either. But he was not complaining.) The only thing that could make it better would be being able to fit that monster inside him. But that was one injury he was not going to risk trying to explain to Mu Qingfang. Assuming he lived. But what a way to go...

He ground his hips down, shuddering as his cock was dragged against his king's. It didn't move like his tongue had, but that didn't matter. It was so much proof of his king's desire for him, not to mention every bit what he'd imagined it to be when he'd written Mobei-Jun, and later when they'd actually met. Because if there was one thing that his bro should have been able to tell about him, was that even if he'd never gotten to actually try it out with another person in his first life, Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky was a massive size queen. Meaning that right now he was absolutely living that fantasy.

"Mobei..." he groaned, pressing kisses along that cock, not caring that his face was already a mess, or that the precum that Mobei had spread over his cock was now getting into his hair. Fuck that. Especially when he felt that pulse between his legs, heard the way Mobei's breath grew faster. Shang Qinghua twisted to look up at him, locking eyes with his king. And didn't have to say anything.

Mobei pulled him up to the very tip of his cock, holding it and him in one hand, the god's legs spread to straddle the head and a thumb rubbing over his groin. Shang Qinghua shook, feeling the way that cock parted his cheeks, pressed up against the tiny hole that was far too small to hold him. Wishing it could.

[Does User Shang Di wish to access character settings?]

"Not now!" he sputtered, shoving the little window that'd popped up away. He was kind of busy! It blinked back out of existence with an almost put-out sound, but Shang Qinghua really didn't give a single fuck. The only fuck he had absolutely belonged to Mobei right now, thank you!

And from the scowl his king leveled at the spot where it'd been, he didn't like the interruption either. But it hadn't been enough to calm his rapidly approaching climax, not with the way that his god was grinding down against him.

"Qinghua," Mobei growled, drawing the man's eyes back to him. "Prepare."

Prepare? Prepare for what?!

The answer came in the next moment when his king finally came. Because with Shang Qinghua held so tightly against his slit, his tongue fucked ass lined up just right, there was nowhere for it to go but in. The god's eyes flew wide. It shot so deep, and there was so much. As it pumped into him, he clawed at Mobei-Jun's fingers, little cries escaping his lips. There was so much, too much! He hadn't noticed when he was so much bigger than his king, but with their situations flipped back, it was too obvious to ignore as his king filled him. But it also felt better than he could have imagined, no matter what kind of porn he'd read (and written) in his first life.

Shang Qinghua barely noticed when he came, his hips held in place to keep from jerking so he wouldn't lose contact. But his king did, staring down at him in possessive rapture. Sighing contentedly as his orgasm petered out to an end, he stroked up the god's thighs, still spread to straddle him, and then up to his stomach where he lingered. Dazed, the author laid his hands on his king's thumb with a little smile. "You really managed to come inside me, my king. But oh, you came so much..."

He looked down, intending to pull that finger up to kiss, before it registered why Mobei was so fascinated with his belly at the moment. He'd admit, he wasn't always as fit and trim as some of his martial brothers, body a bit softer and squishier. But he knew the shape of it. And knew that the slight bulge in his stomach wasn't usually there. Was that all-

"Oh fuck."

When he started giggling, Mobei raised an eyebrow and lifted him up from his cock to inspect, manipulating his limbs to stretch him out in his hand. Lightly poking him in the side until Shang Qinghua swatted the finger away.

"I'm fine, my king," the author said, grinning up at him. "You just filled me so much it's silly! If I'd written it in a story, my readers would have thought it was ridiculous! And with just one load!"

"It will take more when Qinghua is cured," the demon said, nodding his head as if he was fully intending to be up for the challenge of it. Which... might have worried him if it wasn't kinda hot. Really hot. "He is not."

Laying bonelessly in his hand, Shang Qinghua had to sigh a little, still poking at the little bulge in disbelief. "Yeah. It's looking like Shen-shixiong was off the mark for this curse. Dual cultivation probably isn't going to fix it." He beamed up at Mobei. "Still liked it."

Looking satisfied, Mobei nodded again. They may have preferred it to work, but the attempt had been far from a waste. He brought his god up to his lips to brush a chaste kiss over his face, pleased when he giggled against him. Seeing his Qinghua happy and relaxed in his grasp made a deep contentment settle in his chest. Happy, relaxed, and his. His god, soon to be his husband.

Tiny hands pushed against his lips. "My king, I think we both need a bath. Badly."

"Qinghua does not wish to wear this king's scent?" Mobei asked with a raised eyebrow, lifting his handful away from his face to look at. "It's an important clan tradition."

Shang Qinghua huffed and gave him a look. "Bullshit."

"Perhaps my god has forgotten," the demon said with a straight face. To anyone else save maybe Luo Binghe, it would have been completely convincing. Mobei clan demons were considered a little odd at times, and utterly weird at others.

"My king, walking around smelling like sex and sweat has never been part of your clan's traditions," Shang Qinghua said with a huff. "A bath. Please."

Mobei stared at him a moment longer before a smirk appeared and he bowed his head. "As my god commands."

Laying the tiny cultivator down on the pillow, he pressed a kiss to him one more time before standing up with a stretch, not missing the way that his fiancé watched him with hungry eyes. It was almost a shame to pull on even just a single layer of robes in order to call for a servant, but he had little interest in showing anyone else his naked body. But even if his claim about the scents had only been teasing Qinghua, the expression on the servant who arrived at his call said plainly that he smelled them and could tell what they'd been up to.

However, that expression was quickly swallowed by surprise when their king asked for a warm bath.

Mobei returned to the bedroom while the tub and water was brought in, sitting beside the pillow just so he could look down and see the other man laying there. Once the door to the main room closed behind the servant, he gently lifted Qinghua up to carry out to the promised bath.

"My king, you didn't have to get a whole tub just for me. Where are you planning to wash up?" Shang Qinghua asked upon seeing the faint steam wafting up from the water.

"We will wash together," Mobei said. Reaching out, he froze the very surface of the water, breaking the ice so it'd fall inside and melt, cooling it in increments as he repeated the process. When it was just above room temperature, he cupped some in his hand and brought it up to his god. "Warm enough?"

Feeling it, Shang Qinghua nodded. It was colder than anything he'd draw for himself, but much more 'stayed in the bath too long and it cooled down' than the ice slush his king normally preferred. A compromise, and a very thoughtful one at that. He watched his king with a smile as the demon lowered himself into the water with a faint hiss.

"My king, you would have had a very bad time if you'd stolen my bath on An Ding," he said with a snicker. "If this is hot to you, that would have boiled you."

Mobei snorted, leaning back as he settled and placing Shang Qinghua on his chest, where he sprawled out with a happy sigh. "Qinghua looks comfortable."

"My king, Mobei, if I had to pick a favorite part of your body, this would be it right here," Shang Qinghua confessed without a bit of shame over the subject. "Second place, good question. You're so beautiful it's a hard fight. But this right here? Best place in the world."

"Then Qinghua may lay on this king's chest whenever he pleases," Mobei said with a purr. One that could be felt right through that chest. Oh, he could die happy right there and it would have been a good life. "Especially after we wed."

Wed. Wedding. They were going to get married. The very idea made him giddy, even as a worry snuck in. Nothing about Mobei's reasonings. Those had been made perfectly clear to be as bulletproof as they could be. But how the hell was he supposed to organize a wedding when he was not only the size of a hand, but also the bride!

One look up at his king as the demon relaxed with his head leaned back made him decide abruptly that whatever they did, it would be absolutely worth it. Because he was going to be marrying his ideal man.

Once he thought that he had enough energy to actually move, he slid down Mobei's chest until he reached the water so he could actually do what he'd intended the bath for and get clean. As sexy as it was in the moment, cum sticky thighs were no one's friend after it began to cool and congeal.

"It's too bad that we'll have to wait until I'm fixed up," he said idly. "I can't plan a wedding through secret meetings without seeing anyone face to face. Not to mention that a bridal veil can only hide so much. They'd see that I was tiny in a heartbeat."

Mobei's response was a small sound of discontent at the idea, and he brought a hand up to help clean the tiny man up. After all, he held much of the fault, considering it was HIS cum dripping between his thighs. (Maybe Mobei would have preferred it stay inside his god, but he could always fill him more later.)

"I'd ask Shen Qingqiu to do it, but he eloped, so what does he know about weddings? Especially Northern Desert weddings," Shang Qinghua rambled cheerfully. "Bro would probably just tell me to go back to the mountain and have Yue Qingge plan it for me. Which takes us back to handing it to me to schedule and plan."

There was a pause from his patient listener before Mobei spoke up. "If Qinghua wishes to elope, a proper wedding will still need to be held once he is cured." He laid a finger gently against Shang Qinghua's cheek to make him turn and look back up at him. "My court witnessing you crowned as the Queen of the North will cement your position on the throne so much more than merely announcing we've married."

The author blushed, leaning into his finger. "That's not really all that important to me, my king. I'd be at your side helping you anyway."

"It is important to this king," Mobei said. "Qinghua deserves to be shown the respect he's earned. He always has, even before this king learned of his origins."

"My king!" He turned his face into his king's finger to hide it, knowing that the red had to be spreading to his ears. And the water wasn't even hot enough to blame it. Even without seeing the demon, he just knew he was smiling at his embarrassment anyway. So cruel!

"Does Qinghua not want others to know that he wed this king?" Mobei asked, his tone growing serious. "I understand it is difficult for cultivators to be with demons. It might make some of Qinghua's trade partners wary. Bother some of your sect brothers... This king can understand."

"What?!" Shang Qinghua pushed from Mobei's finger abruptly to stare up at him. "Of course I don't want to keep it secret! You're not something to be ashamed of! If I didn't think it'd cause too much trouble, I'd write it in the fucking sky because I love you and want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life-" He paused, catching sight of the glint in the ice demon's eye. That sneaky demon! He pointed a finger up at him, huffing. "You're lucky I'm in love with you so much, having at me like that!"

"Then it's decided," Mobei said, scooping him up in his hands to kiss his chest. "Once you return to your normal size, we will begin consulting the fortune-tellers for the best date for the ceremony. Your sect will be invited, of course."

Giving his stupidly soft lips a shove, he huffed again and pecked a kiss on them anyway. "Fine, yeah. But if we're doing a big wedding, then I want a proper bridal tour, you understand? A big, long honeymoon with plenty of time alone with my new husband. Especially because I know I'm going to end up having to do a lot of the planning. I wouldn't trust anyone else to do it."

"Qinghua would be the best equipped," Mobei said with a nod. He kissed him again before once again setting him down at the edge of the water, taking over gently washing the tiny man and scrubbing their shared mess from his skin. Perhaps he would have liked to tell his god no, he should allow someone else to handle it, but he knew Shang Qinghua all too well. His beloved would be stressing and watching over the shoulder of whoever they did assign to it. Better just to let the logistics master do what he did best.

Once he was satisfied that Qinghua was properly clean, he lifted him up to his chest and climbed out of the bath to dry them both off, using one of his own robes to gently rub over his skin.

"You're pampering me," the god said with a content little sigh. "We should tell Junshang and Shen-shixiong about the plan tomorrow. Assuming they haven't escaped out the back door as soon as we looked away."

"They remain in the palace," Mobei said, nodding. "We will inform them in the morning."

"Good. Because, my king? I am going absolutely nowhere until I've slept for about ten hours. Not that you need it, but you have my full blessing to terrorize anyone who comes knocking before the sun is fully up in the sky."

The demon hummed in agreement, carrying his bath limp god into the bedroom and dressing them both in sleeping robes before he slid into the bed, setting Qinghua on his chest and laying his hand over him. "Sleep. This king will see you undisturbed."

Smiling, the author nuzzled into his so very lovely 'bed' as he closed his eyes. Maybe this whole shrinking thing hadn't been entirely terrible. Not when it brought him his king.

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua woke slowly to a finger stroking over his back, making a happy little content noise in response. The finger paused briefly at the sign that he was awake before resuming again, much to his satisfaction. "That's nice, my king."

"Did Qinghua sleep well?" Mobei asked, his voice soft in case his soon-to-be consort might want to return to sleep. Mornings weren't places for loud noises when one's mate was curled close.

"Mhm." He laid there enjoying the massage a little longer before sitting up with a stretch, giving his king a sleepy smile. "Good morning."

Mobei lifted him away from his chest in order to sit up, looking unfairly nicely ruffled from sleep. He... could really get used to seeing that every morning. And while the author was very tempted to tell him to just lay back down so they could go back to sleep (so, so tempted), they had things to do.

Just not immediately. Soon though.

"I suppose we should get ourselves dressed so we can go talk to the others," Shang Qinghua said, running his fingers through his hair to try and tame the bed head that he most definitely had.

"They can wait until we've had time to dress," Mobei said as he brought the little god over to the vanity, setting him down before fetching Shang Qinghua's box of supplies so he could fish out the grooming tools they'd collected for him. Starting with the comb so he could start to work out the night's tangles. Particularly out of the new curls Mobei had noticed, but not brought attention to. It hadn't escaped his notice that Qinghua had had them in the mural. Like only two other figures he'd known in his life.

They suited him. He wondered if Junshang had noticed at all, or if he'd been too distracted. It would be hard to blame him if he had been. His god's return to divinity was bound to distract anyone. Anyone except him, that is. He was determined to memorize every feature of his creator, former servant, and future spouse.

Mobei took the time to tidy his own hair, less prone to tangling than the other man's, and pulled out appropriate clothing for Qinghua to wear. It was still in his clan's colors with his own huadian stitched into the sleeves, but cut more like what Qinghua wore as a peak lord. Which he'd mentioned being very comfortable before. Which made it perfect for this morning.

...And later. He would need to set Bianzhi Zhizhu on weaving more clothing for his future spouse. She undoubtedly had his normal measurements on record. He would need to be ready for when a cure was found, and he could announce his engagement. It wouldn't do for Qinghua to only have what he wore in his service when he was standing at his side.

He reached into the small box of hair beads, fetching out a new one for the tiny god, holding it until Qinghua was dressed and ready to don it.

"This king will commission you a proper crown later," Mobei said, feeling satisfied enough for now to see him wearing the one bead as the demon started to weave small braids into his own hair, holding a hand out for the god to pass him his own beads. When Qinghua reached in to pick out a silver one, he stopped him with a touch. "No."

"No, my king?" Shang Qinghua asked, blinking up at him.

"The blue," he corrected. "This Mobei-Jun is engaged to marry. The silver is not proper."

Red spread across the tiny man's face as he reached to grab a few of the blue sapphire beads instead. "Is it safe for people to know already? I thought we were keeping the elopement secret until the wedding."

Mobei nodded his head, weaving them in. "The marriage will be secret. The engagement will not be. Now that Qinghua knows and returns this king's affections, everyone should know as well. Even if they do not see you."

"Who would have known that my king could be so sweet," Shang Qinghua said, grabbing more beads to pass over. "I certainly didn't know that. I created you, and you still manage to surprise me!"

"Mn, good," he said, deciding that that must be a good thing. His god was smiling after all. Anything that made his god smile had to be a good thing.

When they told the other demon/human(-ish) couple and their father/father-in-law, they took it... well. If by well it was understood that Shen Qingqiu had deployed his fan to block his husband's puppy eyes at the idea of a big proper wedding post elopement, and Tianlang-Jun pulling out a blank book to take notes in using a charcoal pencil.

"Have you put any thoughts to dates?" Shen Qingqiu asked, pointedly ignoring the demon at his side. "For your elopement. Binghe and I will need to know how long to stay for."

"Aw, you're staying to watch me get married? Knew you liked me," Shang Qinghua teased with a pleased smile nonetheless. "We only just decided on the plan last night, so no. And since I'm still kind of in hiding, we can't exactly consult a fortune-teller for an auspicious date."

"Clearly, one will need spoken to for your full wedding then," the other man said with a huff. "If only to help with the ruse of your not already being married by that point. I wonder if Madam Meiyin has wandered far since we ran into her last."

"This king will send a messenger to find out. After Qinghua and I have made our bows," Mobei said, sitting very straight. Shang Qinghua had trouble shaking the thought that it looked like he was meeting with a maiden's father, trying to convince him that he was serious with his intentions. "Which we would like to occur soon."

"Of course you would. Demons, no patience," Shen Qingqiu scoffed. "Even if you are marrying quietly and without ceremony, there are certain things you should prepare. Binghe and I will of course stand for your family, since you don't exactly have any friendly kin nearby as I understand, and my shidi doesn't at all to my understanding." Risking taking his fan down from Binghe's face (revealing quite the pout), he snapped it closed to tap against his mouth, thinking. "Three days. Two to prepare, one to wed. And time enough to settle what you have to with that mess outside."

Mobei took his time considering it. One side of him wanted to deny Junshang's consort and perform the bows before the sun had time to set. The other side wanted Qinghua to have their union as proper as they could within the time he was willing to wait. It also would allow him time to find an appropriate wedding gift to his god. The first of many. "Three days. This king is agreed. Qinghua?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, three days is fine," Shang Qinghua said quickly. He'd noticed that Tianlang-Jun was watching him, and had a hunch that he'd been doing so the whole time. But at least the senior demon wasn't talking? Knowing him, he'd get on honeymoons and those physical logistics that they'd already figured out but were not going to talk about over his breakfast. "I'll talk to- Wait, what happened to Hu Wenshi? I sent him to fetch my king."

"Don't worry, your little fox is alive," Tianlang-Jun said, his studying stare finally relaxing to offer a smile. "He ran into that General of yours before finding us, but this lord saw to him after your king left to dashingly rescue you. I suppose someone should tell him that you're fine now."

The god breathed a little sigh of relief. "Good. I don't want to train another assistant up to his level. And he's a good guy. Never gave me any problems."

Mobei-Jun grumbled behind him, having his own thoughts about the fox demon's problems. But he had to begrudgingly admit that he would not have reached Qinghua when he did if not for his warning.

And Qinghua liked him. His god would be upset if something were to happen to one of his minions. So what else could a king do but allow him to be healed and returned to duty? Perhaps a small reward could be delivered to his sickbed. Yes, that would please Shang Qinghua.

"This master doesn't suppose you intend to tell any of our sect siblings before it's too late for them to raise a fuss," Shen Qingqiu said mildly, his fan coming up in front of his face to hide what was so very clearly an amused smile.

The tiny god snorted. "And have Yue-shixiong and Liu-shidi show up to scold me for it? Yeah no, I think I'll pass on that privilege. I'm sure my king would enjoy handing our shidi's ass to him, but I'd like to be properly married before Yue Qingyuan has the chance to stare at me with the disappointed big brother eyes of doom, thanks," Shang Qinghua snarked, grabbing one of the perfect miniature pastries that'd been on the table when he and his king arrived. He had a strong suspicion that their emperor had made a visit to the palace kitchens, but he wasn't going to complain!

His bro hesitated before speaking. "He isn't that bad..."

"He's not that bad if you have green eyes, a fondness of fans and sweets, and your name is Shen Qingqiu, you mean," Shang Qinghua corrected with a snicker when said man's fan went right back up to cover his face. Ha. "If you ever had kids, he'd be stealing them to train them to call him bofu and you know it."

"Well that's not happening so it's beside the point," Shen Qingqiu said quickly before Binghe could more than perk up at the idea. "What should be a point in this conversation is the fact that I haven't been able to talk to my shidi in confidence for more than a moment since our capture. With a marriage to prepare for, I find it necessary. So during the day until your bows, I would like to keep Shang Qinghua with me." He glanced at Mobei across the top of his fan. "We have things to discuss."

"Qinghua was kidnapped the last time he was kept in your company," Mobei said with a frown, staying polite because of the emperor sitting next to the human man.

"And again under the care of your servants," Shen Qingqiu countered.

Mobei stared at him mulishly. "Consort Shen will not leave the palace walls when he has Shang Qinghua with him, and will not leave him with anyone."

"Mobei-Jun will be allowed to keep him from dinner to breakfast, with shared meals."

"Hey, don't I have any say in this?" Shang Qinghua asked, looking between them, feeling the kid (or pet) of a splitting couple fighting over them. (Which had absolutely not happened in his first life.)

"Hush, Shang-shidi," Shen Qingqiu said, pushing the dish of miniature foods towards him.

Mobei-Jun scowled. "Junshang's consort should be more polite to a-"

"This master is perfectly polite," the Qing Jing peak lord interrupted with a snort, stopping Mobei from slipping. "But he has known Shang Qinghua for too long to bow and scrape. Perhaps not as long in duration as the Northern king, but since before. He is my friend. And," he said, snapping his fan closed to point at the other heavenly demon in the room. "You shouldn't talk about it around other people!"

"Ah, son-in-law, you can be so cruel," Tianlang-Jun said with a pout that looked suspiciously cheerful. "I'm not 'other people.' Though I'm quite fascinated about what young Mobei was about to say."

"Just a private little joke," Shang Qinghua said quickly, waving his hands. "Nothing that a demon of your position needs to worry about. I think I'm full. Shixiong, are you full? We should get to that discussion you wanted to have. You know, alone."

"Yes, you're right. Binghe, would you help Mobei-Jun? This master is sure that there's work to be done after the attempted coup," Shen Qingqiu said, standing up as soon as he had his hands on his shrunken shidi/fellow transmigrator. "We can all agree to meet up for lunch?"

"Shizun is sure that he will not need assistance?" Binghe asked, frowning as he followed his husband up to his feet.

"This master will be fine. We will be remaining inside, as promised," Shen Qingqiu said, reaching out to pat his head with his free hand. "Is there a place that his majesty would suggest for a private conversation without eavesdroppers?"

"Qinghua has his own chambers," Mobei said after a moment, eyes fixed on his tiny fiancé in Shen Qingqiu's hand. "It has strong wards for privacy and safety. He can guide you there."

"Right! Ha ha, I almost forgot about those," the tiny god said. "Not because they're not the nicest rooms I've ever had, because they are, but because I haven't spent much time there. For safety!"

"Right," the other cultivator said dryly. He gave polite bows to the demons in the room (save Binghe, who got a kiss on the cheek) before walking out and carrying his friend along with him.

Of course, as soon as the 'human' pair had left the room, Mobei turned his glare on Tianlang-Jun. "Why were you watching Shang Qinghua?"

The heavenly demon raised his hands up. As if one of his kind were ever truly unarmed. "Nothing nefarious, young Mobei. I simply only just realized how incredibly fascinating he is. Though I shouldn't be surprised, seeing as he did snare one of the untouchable Mobei-Juns. But perhaps I can understand how now."

"You went into the temple," Mobei said coldly. "You saw."

"Ah, that one, I will admit," he said with a cheerful nod. "It's too bad there wasn't anything in the way of literature in the side rooms. But this lord promises he wishes nothing but lasting joy on the pair of you. Very long-lasting, if what the temple hinted at is true. If not, it's a very grand courting gift, young Mobei. It'd be no wonder about the gems you're wearing this morning."

"This king played no part in its creation," the ice demon said with a frown, not trusting the elder heavenly demon. He didn't understand him, most of all. "But will build others."

"If Shizun hadn't confirmed it..." Luo Binghe muttered. "He wishes to build one near the Underground Palace as well. We shall converge on a design for them. Later. After Shishu's little issue is solved. Since he's still small, I assume the suggested method failed."

Tianlang-Jun's eyes lit up and he leaned in. "Oh? And just what was this method for curse breaking?"

Mobei-Jun glared at him. He was not allowed to think of his Qinghua in the ways that would come up if someone told. And so the subject needed changing. Immediately. "Where is Sha Hualing?"

"Oh, the young lady in red? I believe she left rather soon after you charged out to save the day," Tianlang-Jun said cheerfully. "Which was probably wise."

"Very." He wanted to growl. To chase after the brat and remind her that his Qinghua was off limits. Even for teasing. If she hadn't harassed his god, the fox would not have left his side. And more importantly, Qinghua would have still been wearing his tracking charm, which would have alerted Mobei the moment his beloved left the palace grounds without him. But there were too many things to get done to go chasing after her, and he followed one of Qinghua's tips to calm himself, drawing a slow and deep breath. "Junshang, may this lord trouble you for assistance in the matter of ensuring Wu Yuanzhi has no remaining conspirators?"

"Fine," the heavenly demon said with a one shouldered shrug, attention still only half there. The rest was likely split between tracking the blood that rested in his husband's body, and the revelations they'd all experienced yesterday. Letting out a huff. "Where do you want to start?"

-

"Shidi, how did you not realize Mobei wanted to marry you when he put you in the fucking queen's room?" Shen Qingqiu asked, standing in front of the ornate door to the room in question. The two demon guards standing at attention made a distinct point to neither look at them nor react to anything that was being said. Well trained, then. No wonder Mobei trusted them for this position. The only thing they did to show that they'd actually noticed them there was open the door once the pair was close enough. Looking around inside, he whistled low. "Especially when it's a room like this. There's even a fireplace! In an ice palace!"

"To be perfectly fair to myself?" Shang Qinghua said, waiting for the door to close again behind them. "When Mobei brought me here after our little mutual misadventure, it was the first time I found out that he'd moved all my stuff there. And it's not like I've really been sleeping here, either."

"Ew, I don't want to hear about what goes on where you sleep," Shen Qingqiu said, very quickly setting him down on the table like he wanted to wash his hand at the reminder that Shang Qinghua had had sex.

"You're the one who told us to try dual cultivation," the tiny man said with a snort, straightening his robes after the handling. "Which, by the way, thanks for that."

"Hmph." The other transmigrator swept away from the desk, poking at things around the room until he found the little stove that Shang Qinghua used to make himself tea. "How'd you end up small again, anyway? You skipped that part earlier."

"Ah, that's because I didn't want to say in front of Tianlang-Jun," Shang Qinghua said, taking a seat on the edge of a book that'd been left on the desk. Unlike his king's room, of course, there weren't any supplies or furniture his scale around. "Because it's to do with the System and this whole god thing. Which! Was not my intention to trigger, by the way. I just didn't want to die, but the only options that piece of trash offered was a one-time resurrection on landing, or the Return Home function. Both of which would have meant my king would die and I wasn't going to let that happen! So I yelled at it because you know what? Fuck it, I made this world. Then it said something about only being to edit from outside OR inside the world, outside being that return home thing. And then it activated god mode. With some artistic license used on the definition. As for the back to tiny thing, I kinda just wanted it when we were in the middle of things and it just... happened?"

Shen Qingqiu stared blankly at him across the for a moment as he sorted through the info dump his friend had given him. And stopped. "Wait, what 'return home' function?"

"The button it gave me for finishing the plot?" the author said, blinking at him. "You didn't get one?"

"No, I didn't get one! I'm the one who did most of the work fixing your fucked up story, and I didn't even get the completion reward?! Not that I'd use it because I wouldn't leave Binghe, but that's beside the point!"

Shang Qinghua rolled his eyes. "Bro, that might be exactly the point. You'd probably have yelled at it for offering since it'd suggest you'd leave him or something. While I was actively on the run at the time, pretty convinced that Mobei wanted my head, and not in the fun way I'm looking forward to now."

"I did not need to hear that!"

"Don't be jealous. Your demon husband is cute too, just not my type," the author snickered. "Which is good because he's my son. But Mobei-Jun is undeniably better looking. I mean, have you seen those muscles? Of course you have, because he leaves them on display all the time. He's 100% my type."

"First of all, Binghe is not your son and second, the fact that I know what your sexual fantasy looks like does not make me happy," Shen Qingqiu snapped at him, making a face. "And anyway, Binghe is clearly the better looking of the two. He's the protagonist, after all."

"Sorry bro, word of god beats opinion of the fans," Shang Qinghua said, lifting his chin. Which had absolutely no effect considering he was less than a foot tall. "Anyway, you can't have just wanted to steal me away to ask about how I got minified again. And I know you don't have any 'waiting for marriage' bs. So fess up."

"I would make a death of the author comment, but, um." Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat, buying himself time to pour a cup of the tea. He poked around for something to use for Shang Qinghua, settling with a cap of some sort that he filled and held out to him before taking a seat. "I thought it would be good to see what other things you can change in the system menu. There are transmigration controls, so are there character ones too?"

"I haven't really looked into it much," the author said as he wrapped his hands around the cup to enjoy the heat. "Guess it wouldn't hurt to look. System?"

The blue window popped up without a word, the different setting categories all laid out in front of him. A shadow fell over him when the other transmigrator leaned over him to peer down at it.

"Sheesh, can it be any smaller?" Shen Qingqiu muttered. "I'm glad I don't have my old eyes or I wouldn't be able to read it."

"Heh, you too huh?" Shang Qinghua snickered. Running on a hunch, he brought his hands up to the screen and spread them apart, like zooming in on a smartphone. And obligingly, it grew. "Better?"

"Much. Can you open up the character settings? I want to see Binghe's."

Shang Qinghua twisted to look up at him suspiciously. "Bro... I'm not turning down Binghe's sex drive or making his dick smaller."

He had to dodge a giant fan coming for his head in the next moment, but it was worth it!

-

The Northern Desert was a kingdom made of ice, but gossip was not one of the things that moved at a glacial pace. And thankfully, neither was Linguang-Jun's recovery. He hadn't been able to move for a day, laying at the bottom of the cliff that his nephew had knocked him into. It'd been humiliating. As humiliating as his defeat during the boy's ascension ceremony. And he knew exactly who was the reason for both defeats, no matter who'd made the final blows.

His nephew's little human was a force to be reckoned with, he would privately admit. But only privately. Because allowing a human power over the throne of the North was absolutely unthinkable. It was bad enough that that half-breed had defeated his nephew (made worse by the sneaking suspicion that the fight had been thrown) and acquired his vassalage.

The report from the palace he'd read that morning of the new Mobei-Jun being seen with the sapphire beads of engagement woven into his hair was worse.

Because from the display he'd seen between them, there was only one person his nephew could be wearing them for. And a human queen of the north was one humiliation too far for him to take.

Even if he couldn't defeat his nephew or, at present, kill his human, it might not be too late to force the brat to see reason.

Linguang-Jun was rightfully proud of the demon horses he kept at his personal residence. They were swift and well-trained, and now carried him towards the Northern Palace with as much haste as possible.

When he'd spoken to the human cultivator, it was obvious that he hadn't understood that he'd been being courted. He'd been running from him. Understandable with how socially incompetent his nephew could be. That had clearly changed in the short span of time, but the brat would need to start over. An engagement wasn't a marriage.

When he approached the palace, his eyes lingered on the collection of fresh heads mounted on the outer walls. So, Wu Yuanzhi had decided he was enough to take down a Mobei-Jun on his own. Foolish. He would not mourn him, and turned away without acknowledging the sight, guiding his horses towards the palace stables.

Linguang-Jun hadn't expected for the former emperor to be there, casually lounging on a bed of furs while nibbling on a piece of candied fruit.

The former emperor who, as rumors told, had nearly made a human woman their empress.

Fuck.

"Young Ling-er, what a pleasant surprise," the heavenly demon said without even rising from his place. "Last I heard, you were laying at the bottom of a cliff someplace."

Meaning he'd been told about the fight between him and his nephew. Things were just getting better.

"Lord Junshang. Clearly, I've recovered enough," Linguang-Jun said stiffly. "I've come to speak to my nephew."

"Ah, would this be the same nephew putting thoughts to a grand royal wedding?" the former emperor asked cheerfully, as if he didn't already know. "I'm afraid he's not here. Off fetching a gift for his little beloved."

The ice demon scowled, taking his horses to the stalls so he could get them settled. The stable hands were nowhere to be seen, likely scared away by present company. "That's what I'm here to talk to him about. This lord is aware of your... fondness for humans, but my nephew has only just come into power. Marrying a human-"

"You don't have to worry about that," Tianlang-Jun interrupted, finishing the piece of fruit before standing with a stretch. "The bride he's intending to marry is no human."

"What?" Linguang-Jun stopped, confusion rising up. "Who else but that little minion of his could he be engaged to?! Everyone knows that he's been courting him for years!"

"Everyone but him, it seems." He chuckled, shaking his head. "And you're right. Little Master Shang is indeed the one he's going to wed."

Scowling, Linguang-Jun barely refrained from striking the other demon for talking in riddles. It would not end well for him. "Stop talking in circles. You just said he wasn't marrying a human." A thought struck him and he paused. "...Unless the man isn't a human after all."

Tianlang-Jun's new smile was a slow one. "Very good. I always knew you were the smarter of your brothers."

"What is he?" Linguang-Jun asked, narrowing his eyes. "He's no demon. At least not a full one. Another half-breed?"

"Like my son, you mean?" he asked without bite. Thankfully. "No. It even caught me a bit by surprise, I admit. He's such an unassuming little fellow. But perhaps we should have taken the hint from his name. Your ancestors may have known, actually. The children shattered one of the snow cliffs and found a nice little temple to Shang-Di, the creator of everything."

Linguang-Jun stared at him, trying to decide if the fall had caused more damage to his brain than previously assumed, or if it was actually true that the former emperor had truly gone mad while he'd been trapped under that mountain. Because the idea of that cowering little worm being not only a god but the god of creation? Was so utterly moronic that even the human poets that had penned that damn song about the brat emperor and his consort would have found it too far-fetched. So ridiculous that for Tianlang-Jun to think he'd ever believe it, he...

He had to actually believe it, because he had seen proof. Which... would mean his nephew had set himself up to be consort to a god. One who had put a lot of personal attention into making sure he rose to the throne.

"My brother sometimes complained that the prince's servant called him King," Linguang-Jun said dully as it sank in. He had never had a chance at the throne, had he?

Tianlang-Jun cheerfully patted him on the back. "Almost like he knew he'd be the one to make it, isn't it? Ah, but you aren't the only one to underestimate him, young Ling-er. I must confess that he seemed so unimpressive next to those other peak lords he hid himself amongst. But now that he's shown himself, this lord would not recommend trying to keep them apart. Especially considering they're planning to elope tomorrow."

"Elope?! Tomorrow?! Of all the foolish things! One does not quietly elope with a king or a god like a young couple that's found themselves knocked up!" Linguang-Jun fumed, switching tactics. Stopping the marriage was clearly not going to happen, so he could at least see things done properly! He whirled around to storm into the palace, only to be grabbed and hoisted into the air like an errant child. "You-"

"I promised your young nephew I would keep watch while the boys went searching for a good wedding gift," Tianlang-Jun said, carrying him along as he strolled away from the stables. "And while I do love the connection between uncle and beloved nephew, you aren't on the approved list. Yes, it's a very short list, but a list is a list. But to sooth your propriety, they did say that they would be performing a proper wedding. Later. Once all the courting traditions are taken care of, dowries are negotiated, marriage contracts are drafted. All that fuss."

"Unhand me!" Linguang-Jun shouted, twisting to free himself. To absolutely, infuriatingly, no effect.

"If you wish to give the couple a gift, I would come back tomorrow," the heavenly demon said. He only released the other man once they were well outside the front gates, dropping him in a snow drift. "Only, not too late in the evening. I imagine they won't want to be interrupted once they've taken their bows." Standing over Linguang-Jun, he smiled. But only a fool would see it as friendly. "If you feel like touring while you wait, there's a lovely temple in the cracks down the way that was just uncovered. Honoring the god there might make your nephew less likely to throw you off of another cliff."

Linguang-Jun glared at him from the snow before stiffly climbing to his feet. "If you are trying to trick me..."

Of course, to a demon who had once held the whole of the realm in his claws and ignored it in favor of plays and poetry, such a threat wasn't going to bother Tianlang-Jun in the slightest. His beloved had made more vicious threats in the heat of passion. "Just a little bit of advice, from one uncle to another. Now, my son-in-law had a very interesting book on him when he arrived, so I think I'll leave you here. But do take the chance to go sightseeing. You may learn some things."

The ice demon was tempted to lash out the moment he turned his back, but unlike his fallen ally the General, he had survival instincts. So he merely glowered until the infuriating bastard vanished inside before turning to march into the snow. He would see this so-called temple.

Chapter Text

Considering how late Shang Qinghua had been awake, trying not to obviously toss and turn considering his king needed to sleep too and he'd been on his chest again, he thought he deserved to sleep in once he finally managed to crash. But did he get to? Of course not!

With the first rays of the sun, his king's door burst open with a crack of ice, Binghe clearing the way for his husband to sweep through the front room and all the way into Mobei's fucking bedroom, throwing open the windows. From the half-awake snarl that Mobei let out, his bro was clearly only still alive by the grace of having his husband lurking at the doorway.

"Shidi, up," Shen Qingqiu said briskly.

"What the fuck, bro?" Shang Qinghua groaned, grabbing one of Mobei's fingers to cover his head like a pillow to block out the morning. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking? You can't just barge in on a guy. Especially on his wedding day!"

"That's why I'm here, idiot," his friend said with a sniff, ignoring Mobei's further growling. In fact, he pretty much ignored the demon altogether, even though he was staring at the tiny figure literally on his chest. "There's a lot to get ready for. So get out of bed before I get Binghe to help."

"Fine, fine, I'm getting up! My king, could I get a hand down?" he asked, pulling his robe closed as he pushed Mobei's fingers open. Or, well, tried to push his fingers open. "Mobei..."

"It is early," the ice demon growled, glaring up at the emperor's consort while making no sign that he intended to rise, or allow his god to do the same.

"Respectfully-" Shen Qingqiu started to retort before he was cut off.

"There is nothing respectful about this," Mobei corrected, holding Shang Qinghua more tightly to his chest. Loosening his grip only because he began to squirm. "Qinghua is tired. Get out."

Sputtering, Shen Qingqiu looked over his shoulder, clearly searching for his husband's support on this, but for once, Binghe didn't move to back him up. In fact, from where Shang Qinghua could see him between Mobei's fingers, he looked like he was covering a laugh.

Drawing himself up with as much dignity as he could manage, the cultivator flicked his fan open to cover his face before sweeping around towards the door. "Fine. Two hours. And plan to eat quickly, because we'll be starting preparations already behind schedule."

"What fucking schedule?" Shang Qinghua grumbled.

As the royal pair left, he was fairly certain he heard his son tease the other man. "Shizun, I tried to warn you. Mobei isn't a morning person." He could only imagine the withering look his bro gave him in response before the door shut with a slam. Thankfully leaving them alone again.

"Fuck, I think I'm gonna be too awake to go back to sleep now," the author huffed, finally able to get Mobei to open his hand now that there were no threats in the room, real or perceived. "Wasn't the point of eloping to do things quickly and casually? If he's planned a whole wedding ceremony in the last few days, I'm going to make him go bald." Was that something in the settings? He hadn't even looked. But maybe!

Mobei didn't say anything, simply relaxing to rub his fingers up and down the other man's back soothingly as Shang Qinghua sulked. Eventually, he also began to relax, eyes slipping closed. It was nice, calming.

Maybe he could get some more sleep after all.

When they eventually did drag themselves out of bed, even later than they'd planned out of spite, they took their time dressing. Mobei to fix the beads into his braids, and Shang Qinghua mostly to watch him. He knew for a fact that whatever he wore out of the room, his bro wasn't going to let him stay in it. So he didn't bother to wear more than the most basic of layers while still making sure he had his crown in place and the charms Mobei'd returned to him. Now with an added 'feature' to alert Mobei if they were ever removed.

Not that he'd need the warming charm right away, since Mobei had infused his morning kisses with qi, drawing the cold away from his little god. And leaving a big grin on Shang Qinghua's face all through breakfast until it was time for the other transmigrator to sweep him away.

"You know, you're really lucky that we weren't naked," Shang Qinghua snarked as Shen Qingqiu rummaged through the box of miniature clothes Mobei had had made for him. Either the crafty old spider demon had been continuing to weave without telling anyone, or Mobei had been holding back some. For the moment, the author sat in his under robe and the nicest pants in the box, letting himself be dressed up. Because he could kind of admit his bro had good tastes in clothes. Secretly.

"Please, like you even have enough to get an eyeful of," Shen Qingqiu snorted. "And what would you be doing in the nude anyway? You already figured out dual cultivation doesn't work."

Shang Qinghua snickered, leaning forward to prop his cheek against a hand. "Cucumber, my precious baby bro, two things." He ignored the other man's outraged scoff at the nickname. "First, it's not me you'd have gotten the eyeful of. My king isn't so small. And two, why do you think that would stop us?"

The younger man flushed. "There was a blanket! And what would you even be doing otherwise?! Sure, once you're back to normal, but it- It can't fit right now!"

"There's a lot more to do in bed with a naked demon than dick in ass fucking you know," he teased before pausing. "You do know that, right?"

"Of course I do! But he's just so big!" Shen Qingqiu sputtered, both trying to and very much desperately trying not to wrap his head around the idea. "Never mind! You weren't naked, so that's beside the point!"

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that," Shang Qinghua said with a snicker. "You know, once we have the cure in hand, I bet Binghe's gonna want to try it too."

Glaring down at him, his favorite anti-fan dumped a pile of robes he'd deemed acceptable right onto his head. "Shut up. He's big enough as it is."

He dug himself out with a cackle, spreading out the silk. "I never said he'd want you to be the one shrinking."

"Hmph!" Shen Qingqiu glared at him again, but judging from the way he paused a moment later, the author knew he'd started to think of the appeal. Too bad he'd never admit it if Shang Qinghua ended up being right on the money.

Of course, even though he'd dumped the set onto the other transmigrator, that didn't stop him from stealing them back to organize what layer went on in which order, arranging them from light to dark with a deep red robe that Shang Qinghua knew hadn't been in the box yesterday loose on top.

"I see you've been making friends with Bianzhi Zhizhu," Shang Qinghua said as he poked at the outer robe. Even in red, there was the faint pattern of both mountains and snowflakes. And was that- "Bro..."

"Had to draw it out for her," Shen Qingqiu said, busying himself folding the other rejected robes so they could be put away neatly.

'It' was a large snowflake on the back of the robe, composed entirely of airplanes, which must have been so dutifully replicated from the drawing his bro had provided. Touching it, Shang Qinghua swallowed thickly. Where had this lump in his throat come from, huh?

"You traded the chance to go home for this, right?" the other transmigrator said. "So I thought, well, you might as well keep a piece. If you don't like it, I'm sure she can blur out the pattern or we can skip the red altogether. Mobei clan don't wear it for weddings, right? Here, I'll get rid of it for you." And he reached to pull the robe from Shang Qinghua's hands.

"Don't you fucking dare," he said, hugging it to his chest. Ignoring the strange wetness of his cheeks. "I'm going to wear it and show everyone how much of a sentimental sap you are. Don't think I won't!"

"Oh fine, but don't get so weird about it," Shen Qingqiu huffed, letting go so it wouldn't rip. Like the whole thing wasn't important. "Get dressed already. I'm tired of staring at you in your underwear."

Shang Qinghua flipped him off before picking up the first layer and shaking it out, making a face at how many there were, while the other man pointedly didn't hover like he was afraid that he'd start putting legs through sleeves or pulling the things on backwards without supervision.

Muttering to himself as he pulled the layer on (the correct way!), he still brightened and spun around when the door opened and a chill wafted into the room. "My king! You-"

It wasn't his king.

Stiffening, Shang Qinghua stared up at his king's uncle, Linguang-Jun looking as imposing as the last time he saw the demon. At least he had the grace to look surprised when he spotted him. Ha, someone obviously hadn't mentioned his little situation to him, had they?

Beside him, Shen Qingqiu drew himself up with all the cold dignity of the Xiu Ya Sword. "Sir, you cannot be here."

Fuck, his bro had never met Linguang-Jun before. He didn't know who he was! Grasping his tracking charm, Shang Qinghua was about to yank it off to alert his king to come when the world abruptly tilted on its axis. At least it felt like that, because instead of attacking the two humans, he bowed. Low to Shen Qingqiu, and then, impossibly, lower to Shang Qinghua.

What the ever loving fuck??

"Consort Shen," Linguang-Jun said with a determinedly flat look before fixing Shang Qinghua with a more explicitly annoyed stare. "Lord Shang-Di, we could have saved a lot of time and fuss if you had been honest about your nature and the favor that meant for my nephew."

"Um, I’m sorry?" Shang Qinghua said, absolutely not sorry at all. But how the hell had he found out about that?!

"Shidi, an introduction?" Shen Qingqiu asked, subtly moving forward to be between the little god and the demon.

The author cleared his throat. "Ah, right. Shen-shixiong, this is Linguang-Jun, my king’s uncle and currently next in line to the throne. And it seems like you already know who my shixiong is."

"There are few in the demon realm who do not know who the Xiu Ya Sword is," the demon said. But he wasn’t interested in the simply immortal of the pair, his eyes not straying far from Shang Qinghua, occasionally flicking to the sapphire bead in his hair. Even more proof of what the rumors had said. "This lord hears that congratulations are to be made."

"And… you’re fine with that?" the god asked slowly, likewise not looking away. Still holding the tracking charm in his hand. "Because the last time you saw me, you tried to kill me. Last two times, actually. Well, the first one might have been more auxiliary to trying to kill my king, but the second was most definitely hunting me down for murder."

Linguang-Jun’s look turned sour. "Clearly, in hindsight, a pointless gesture. So I’ve come to offer a gift, for your proper ceremony."

"If it’s cursed, I’m telling Mobei to toss you off a higher cliff," Shang Qinghua warned him, instinctively taking a step back as the demon lord swept further into the room.

"It is not. These rooms have been sealed for over fifty years," he scoffed, stopping in front of an ornamental panel on the far wall. "And the previous occupant would not have kept any cursed items here."

The previous occupant. Meaning the last Queen of the North, Mobei’s mother. The bride his father had stolen from his uncle. Suddenly he wondered if murder as an option was the lesser of his worries.

But Linguang-Jun didn’t seem to have bride theft on his mind as he pressed one of the flowers carved into the panel before pressing the whole thing inward and sliding it aside. There was a compartment behind it. The pair of transmigrators shared a wide-eyed glance behind his back before the demon turned and strode towards the desk.

The funny thing was, Shang Qinghua knew the necklace that was laid on the desk in front of him. Even though it’d never been mentioned in the story because he knew if it had been, his readers would have demanded it be given to Binghe and one of his wives. He still knew it.

"That belonged to my king’s mother," Shang Qinghua said quietly. "It went missing when she passed."

"This lord hid it," Linguang-Jun said, unsure if he should be surprised that the little god knew already. There were so many things that he'd known that he shouldn't have, weren't there? "In case the old bastard thought to hand it off to the next wife he snatched up."

"Then... why are you giving it to me?"

Linguang-Jun didn't have time to answer before a portal ripped open behind him, Mobei's hand reaching out to throw the other demon away from the two peak lords before he'd even finished stepping through. The older demon landed with a pained grunt, glaring up at him.

"You dare come here," Mobei growled, stalking towards him. "If you have harmed Qinghua..."

"I haven't touched him, you brutish brat," Linguang-Jun snapped back at him. "I only came to give your little bride a gift. See for yourself."

"I'm here, my king," Shang Qinghua called out softly to him, giving his king a smile when his eyes landed on him. Mobei nearly ran to the side of the desk, Cucumber wisely getting out of the way so the demon could scoop him up to examine. But Mobei's hand came to a stop right before he could reach him, his king freezing in place with wide eyes.

He wasn't looking at Shang Qinghua, but at the necklace instead.

Using the distraction, Linguang-Jun climbed to his feet, trying not to let the soreness of his back show. "Nephew. I have never liked to enter into a doomed fight. Your god faces no more challenges from me. I will return to my keep, and expect an invitation to the ceremony when it occurs."

And he left the room, just like that. No fight, no threats. Which was... weird, but he'd take it!

"Pity it's too big to wear today," Shen Qingqiu said lightly, pointedly not acknowledging the bit of demonic family drama. As if he'd had any smoother of a time with his in-laws at the beginning. "Shidi, you should finish getting dressed."

Shang Qinghua cleared his throat. "Ah, right. Last layer then. One moment, my king."

By the time that he'd pulled on the red layer and gotten the sleeves all layered correctly, Mobei had torn his eyes away from his mother's necklace and locked them back onto him. Which, despite how the intensity of his stare made Shang Qinghua squirm, he felt like they should be.

"Is the garden all ready?" Shen Qingqiu asked, fussing over the way his shidi's belt sat, which the small god tolerated with a roll of his eyes.

Mobei-Jun nodded his head, offering his hand to his fiancé. "This king will deliver you."

"Ah, yes, thank you. I suppose going out in formal would make people wonder what we were up to, wouldn't it?" Shen Qingqiu said. He straightened up, tucking his hands out of sight. Probably to keep from reaching into Mobei's hand to continue fussing.

His king didn't bother to snort before opening up a new portal, letting the emperor's consort through first before following with god in hand. When his friend stepped out of the way of his view, Shang Qinghua had to draw in a breath, his throat locking up.

The flowers and plants were as they had been, but the trees had been decorated with banners and ribbons of both of their colors amongst the wedding red, with the symbols of the Mobei clan, An Ding, and the same snowflake airplane pattern as his outer robe. It didn't take two guesses who'd been behind that design choice!

"Consort Shen said it was Qinghua's personal symbol," Mobei said, looking down and seeing where his soon-to-be husband was staring.

He giggled. He couldn't help it. "Ah, well, those are," Shang Qinghua said, pointing to the planes. It was close enough! He was not going to be trying to explain usernames and webpages to his king any time soon! "The arrangement is new, but I like it. My symbol, your element. Like it stands for both of us now."

Mobei nodded in satisfaction, carrying him over to the altar they'd erected. Using, he suspected, the bench he liked to sit at, covered in red silk. The wine was already sitting there waiting, even if the cups were kind of hilariously mismatched in size. They'd talked about family tablets, but decided against it. Shang Qinghua's were likely still alive (his original at least, who knew about this life's) and he hadn't been close to any of them. And the less said about Mobei's family, the better. It was an issue that would need re-addressing for their public wedding, but this one was for them.

As Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe took seats on either side of them, Mobei knelt down and gently set the god beside him. Shang Qinghua looked up at his beautiful king, unable to keep from smiling as his heart pounded in his chest. He was actually getting married. It was such a short time ago that he thought his king wanted him dead, and now he was actually marrying his ideal man!

"Wait," Shen Qingqiu said abruptly. "How are you going to bow to the heavens? Shang-shidi can't bow to himself."

Shang Qinghua groaned. "Bro, this isn't the time."

"He has a point," Luo Binghe said, the traitorous son that he was. But thankfully, he was also a clever son. "What if you both bowed towards the temple? It represents Shang-shishu, but isn't actually him."

Mobei-Jun considered it before nodding. "If Qinghua agrees."

"It sounds good to me. It was the start of this world after all, so heavens and earth combined, right?" Shang Qinghua agreed quickly, nodding his head. And maybe shooting his bro a look that said no more interruptions, okay? Which, from the hidden eye roll, was received loud and clear.

Together, god and king made their bows towards the distant temple, to the pair standing in for their family, before turning towards each other. Shang Qinghua swallowed heavily, taking a deep breath, before Mobei leaned forward to make his final bow, prompting the god to hurry up and join him. But it was hard to look away from his king, from the happy expression on his face, the way his hair slipped over his shoulder as he bowed. Fuck, he'd created something absolutely beautiful, hadn't he?

He honestly barely remembered what the wine tasted like, because as soon as he'd put the cup down he was being swept up in his husband's hands and brought to his lips for a kiss. Only to laugh against Mobei's lips when Shen Qingqiu let out a whoop before remembering himself and trying to recover his distant immortal look. But even that was forgotten because his king kissed him again and a third time for extra measure.

"Husband," he said once he was finally allowed to breathe, "How about we skip the dinner and go straight to the honeymoon?"

Mobei chuckled. "Tempting. But I won't break my promise to Qinghua."

"What promise?" Shang Qinghua asked, blinking. But Mobei only smiled and shook his head. "Fine, fine, keep your secrets for now. I'll figure them out eventually."

"Of course. Husband always does," Mobei said with a nod, not doubting it for a moment. "Before we depart the garden for dinner, this king has a gift for Qinghua. Junshang?"

Grinning, Luo Binghe produced a long box, setting it down in front of the newlyweds. "This lord still isn't sure how you managed to lose it so thoroughly, shishu. You're lucky to marry someone so stubborn not to have given up the search."

"I lost something?" the god asked, blinking. He leaned over as Binghe moved the decorated lid aside, and held back a gasp. "You found my sword?"

"Mn."

It was his sword. Shang Qinghua might not have used it to fight very often, but he still knew the simple blade resting in the box as well as he knew his favorite brushes. And someone, likely his king, had wrapped it in flowers. In fact, in tiny, blue and white blossoms. Familiar tiny, blue and white blossoms.

"My king-" he gasped, looking up at Mobei with wide eyes. "Those flowers..."

"Qinghua said they should only be offered to a god, and only one this king was sure would accept them," Mobei said, looking down at him. With his free hand, he plucked one of the little flowers from the box to offer to the equally little god.

Curling his fingers around the stem, he sniffled, holding it close to his chest. "My king, you'd better get down here for another kiss, or I'm going to see if my giant form can fit in this garden."

Chuckling, Mobei lifted him up. Of course, that's when the System decided to pop up, its window shoving between their lips the moment he was allowed to breathe like the most annoying in-law ready to pounce and ask about grandchildren.

[Congratulations, congratulations, congratulations! Good things must-]

"Not now," Shang Qinghua groaned, and physically shoved the window away. He had more important things to do, like kissing his king as many times as he could before he ran out of air.

"That thing has very poor timing," he heard Luo Binghe murmur to his husband, who snorted utterly inelegantly.

"You have no idea." Shen Qingqiu raised his voice to speak to the couple between them. "Shidi? I think Binghe and I will take our leave here."

"Huh?" Pushing Mobei's lips away (a crime, he was well aware), he looked over at the other transmigrator. "You're leaving already? Not staying for dinner?"

It was Luo Binghe who responded, amused. "It's unlikely that our presence would be welcome for long. Besides, I believe Mobei has things well in hand." He nodded his head with the kind of respect that Shang Qinghua wasn't sure he'd shown anyone but his bro since before his blackening. "Shang-shishu, I would like to talk to you alone later. Once we can stand eye to eye." He glanced up at Mobei, noting the glare. "Just a friendly talk, Mobei."

"No offense, Junshang, but I haven't been able to stand eye to eye with you since you were a teenager," Shang Qinghua said with a huff, getting the silent laugh that he'd been going for. "But sure, yeah. We've probably got a lot to talk about."

"He won't be the only one, once your status crosses the border to the human realm," Shen Qingqiu said. "Keeping it a secret here will likely be a moot point, even if we didn't build the shrines. You might even get a ballad written about you."

Shang Qinghua didn't miss the slightly maniacal look in his eye when he said that, and rolled his eyes. "You just want people to stop reading about the two of you."

"Exactly. That is exactly what I want. Now come over here so I can give you a hug before we go."

"Wha- Hey!" His husband, traitorously, handed him over just like that and he was scooped up to lean against his bro's shoulder, held tightly. The author awkwardly patted his shoulder, as if he could even feel it through the robes. "Okay, that's enough hugging, bro. Your Binghe's going to get jealous."

"This lord has no reason to be jealous," the emperor said cheerfully, even as Shen Qingqiu released him back to his king's grasp. "Shang-shishu is family, and married besides. This lord will await news of when he is provided with a younger half-sibling."

The author's face went bright red and he flailed a hand towards the brat who called himself emperor. "Get out of here with that talk! Or I'll ground you! Don't believe I won't!"

Drawing his sword to step up onto, Shen Qingqiu tapped the heavenly demon on the head with his fan before pulling him up. "Don't get any ideas. Take care, Qinghua."

"Go back to your own palace!" Shang Qinghua shouted, flustered and ushering them away. "Come back when you get that idea out of your head!"

The royal pair rose up from the garden in high spirits, vanishing over the walls and into the evening sky. Leaving Shang Qinghua to grumble and huff from his place in Mobei's hands. "Why do people always tell people to have kids as soon as they get married? I want time having my husband all to myself!"

"Is it possible?" Mobei asked, raising an eyebrow. He transferred the little god to his shoulder so he could pick up the chest containing Shang Qinghua's sword.

"What, children?" he asked, eyeballing his king. "I'm not sure. This body is fully male as far as I know, and I don't remember doing anything like that with yours when I was in the design phase. But... eh, maybe? Would my king want that?"

His king looked at him from the corner of his eye for a long while before shrugging his shoulder, carrying the tiny author up and down with it. "Perhaps. But as Qinghua said, this king would like his husband to himself for a while." The shadows rose up and he carried them through to his bedroom. Which, to Shang Qinghua's surprise, had also been decorated in wedding red. "Particularly tonight."

Mobei set the box down, lifting the god down from his shoulder to set on the table. Which, instead of being empty, held a covered tray with what was clearly a stasis charm stuck to it. One of his own. He looked at it curiously, taking a slow seat at his own little table.

"This husband hopes that Qinghua can accept his attempt tonight," Mobei said, lifting the cover.

Shang Qinghua's eyes flew wide. "My king... you made me pulled noodles?"

"It was a promise made. Even if this king does not fear Qinghua leaving him anymore, he swore when there was that fear," Mobei said.

There were two bowls, and he could see that the smaller one had somehow been made with much thinner noodles than the larger. It must have taken so much care not to just pull them apart. He sniffed, eyes damp.

"If they are not acceptable quality, this king will dispose of them and call for something better made," Mobei said softly. Almost nervously.

"My king! It could be one globby mess and I would still eat it because you made it!" Shang Qinghua scolded him, making grabby hands at the smaller bowl until Mobei picked it up and placed it on his miniature table. The god didn't wait but a moment to grab his chopsticks and start shoving it into his mouth. He beamed up at his king with stars in his eyes. It was good! Maybe not perfect, with some of the noodles sticking together, but his king had made it and it was good!

His enthusiasm seemed to relax his king, who let out a small breath before picking up his own chopsticks to start eating.

Swallowing his most recent mouthful, Shang Qinghua grinned. "My king must have spent all morning on these. You managed to stretch the noodles so thin!"

Wasn't the only thing he wanted his king to stretch thin either. Too bad he'd have to wait- Wait.

"Qinghua?" Mobei asked, noticing the way his god had frozen.

"One moment, my king, I have to check something," Shang Qinghua said quickly, calling up the system and once again dismissing the pop-up notification it tried to give him. It could wait. He flicked through the menus, searching. Not in transmigration settings, that seemed to just have to do with System interactions and the rules of all that bullshit. Character settings? Shang... There! When he opened the profile, he just had to stop and stare at all the options. A lot of them were grayed out, which he supposed made sense. You start changing things that have already been long established and it starts breaking shit. But facts that weren't strongly established, especially ones where the only people who might know better already expected him to be powerful?

He grinned when he found it. It was an obscene thing to be listed in a character setting, but this was the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way, where there were thousands of plants with poisons that needed dual cultivation to cure. So maybe 'body elasticity (in sexual context)' wasn't such a huge thing after all. Nor was the fact that he gleefully dragged the tick mark all the way over away from the default setting to the max before banishing the window and grabbing one more mouthful of food to finish off the noodles.

He was horny, but he wasn't going to waste them!

"My king, your husband would like you to take him to bed," he said, looking up at the gorgeous man he'd made and married, not missing the way Mobei's eyes turned from confused and vaguely concerned to hungry. "There's something I did that I need you to help me test."

"Something?" Mobei asked, his voice dipping lower as he gathered up the tiny god, who barely waited for his hand to be in reach before he was scrambling into it. He didn't wait for an answer before swiftly carrying him into the bedroom at a pace that barely held onto regal with the tips of its fingers instead of entirely falling directly into eager.

"I'm not sure if it worked, or how strong the effect was, so we'll have to start slow, fingers and such." Shang Qinghua looked up at him, his own desire roaring and ready. "But I might be able to take your cock."

It was as if he'd said the magic words to cast a spell on his king. Mobei barely took the time to undress him, clearly warring between preserving the clothes they'd married in and getting them off by any means necessary as long as it was now. Shang Qinghua helped as much as he could, yanking ties and shoving layers of silk out of the way. Some of those ties most certainly ripped, but neither of them cared.

"Qinghua will speak if anything hurts," Mobei growled. When he got to his new husband's innermost robe, he lost patience and ripped it apart, baring his little god's body for him to see. Only him. Even that precious doctor of theirs didn't need to ever see him like this.

"Right away," Shang Qinghua agreed readily. "My king knows I don't like pain. But I know my king won't hurt me."

"Good."

He was brought up to Mobei's face, fully prepared to get kissed all over, but his king had other ideas. He'd decided that fingers weren't a good enough way to start testing his god's new limits. Because the moment that mouth fixed itself over his groin, that tongue pushed into him.

Shang Qinghua gasped, feeling it push deeper than it'd been able before, and so quickly. He could feel himself stretching around the flexible muscle as his king literally tongue fucked him. "Oh my fucking god," he whispered, crying out softly when Mobei found his prostate and licked it from the inside. "M-my king, right there. Please, right there. Fuuck."

Nothing, no amount of personal fingering, jade pillars, or even the tiny amount that his king had managed to work into him before, could prepare him for the feeling of that tongue moving inside him, the way his king's taste buds dragged over what felt like every nerve he had, making his legs shake as he shoved himself back against Mobei's lips.

And then his king shoved it deeper and curled it, he screamed, arching against his mouth. Not because it hurt, oh no, because it sent a fucking bolt of pleasure through his spine like he'd never felt. And that was only his king's tongue! What would his dick feel like?!

Mobei made his whole body jerk again when he repeated the motion before pulling the tiny god away from his mouth, fingers spreading his legs wide. Fingers that no longer bore the demon's usual claws. Which proved to be a very good thing when the next moment two of them slid in to take over where his tongue had already started to loosen him up.

Shang Qinghua babbled, clinging to his hand as he was opened up further. His logical mind knew it was possible because of the change in the System setting, but his logical mind was out to lunch while he was getting his spine replaced with Mobei's thrusting fingers. They were longer than his tongue, and so much stiffer, and his king could rotate and spread them inside him, watching him intently all the while. Then something caught the demon's eye and he stared.

"W-what?" the author gasped, looking up at him in a perfectly blissed-out daze. "What is it?"

"Look," Mobei said, and he flexed his fingers again.

Not helping, my king! Shang Qinghua let out a cry as he tried to focus just enough to figure out what the demon was talking about, lifting his head to look down his body. There were his legs, spread as wide as he could while Mobei's fingers, each bigger than a human cock on their own, spread him so wide open. And then Mobei flexed his fingers again and he saw it. He saw those fingers moving inside him.

"Can Qinghua take more?" Mobei asked, staring with fascination. Fascination and hunger.

Shang Qinghua whimpered, rocking his hips. More? Could any human take more? But, was he really human anymore? He wanted more. Wanted to feel his king inside him. Needed to feel his king inside him so badly it nearly hurt.

"Please, my king," he whined, reaching up for him.

He was raised up, Mobei's lips brushing over that moving bulge his fingers made in his belly, before his king rose up on the bed and made short work of his own robes, carrying his god through the sleeve on its way off to avoid having to leave him empty, even just for a short time. The rest was stripped away with one hand, leaving Mobei wearing only the betrothal beads in his hair and so, so very hard.

Mouth watering, Shang Qinghua still clenched around those fingers as they began to withdraw, body reluctant to let them, even when something so much better waited. Something terrifying, but so fucking beautiful. Just like the rest of his king. And Mobei brought him down to that cock, supporting him as he was centered over the tip. Like when his husband had filled him before, but this time he wasn't going to be just filled with cum.

"Go slow," the god said, holding tightly to the hand supporting him. Above him, Mobei nodded and began to push him down.

At first, he was worried that it wasn't going to work. His king's cock was so big and thick, and he was so small. Even as much as those fingers and tongue had stretched him, could he really fit around it?

Yes, the answer was yes.

At first, it didn't seem like it. Mobei pushed him down firmly, the head of his cock mashing against his ass, spreading the cheeks. Even with as cold as his king was, it still felt like he was going to burn up from the pressure as his body strained to keep the huge intruder out against his wishes. And then, in an instant, the force of Mobei's hand pushing him down became too much as he cried out as that head surged into him all at once. "Mobei!"

"Qinghua is good?" Mobei asked, his voice tight with restraint, stopping and holding him still. Wanting to thrust deeper. Waiting.

Was he good? Was he fucking good? Fireworks were flashing in his eyes because the head of his king's cock couldn't help but to press right up against his sweet spot, couldn't help but to grind his ability to think into bits. And that was just the tip! But most importantly, it didn't hurt. Not even like it'd have hurt if he'd been normal-sized. Fucking win! He tried to speak a few times before giving up and just nodding his head, moaning when his king began to inch deeper, the hand holding onto him shaking.

"Good?" he echoed the question breathlessly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

Mobei swallowed and nodded his head. "Good."

"Good," Shang Qinghua said with a nod back, shuddering. "More?"

The answer to more was obviously yes, they both agreed, and Mobei groaned as he began to pull him down even more, watching his cock vanish into Qinghua's body. No, not entirely vanish, because he could see the way his husband's body was stretched from within, all but molding to it. If it weren't for Qinghua being a god and the gasped moans he made with every movement, he would have feared hurting him. But he knew what Qinghua looked like when he was in pain (as much as he now wished he didn't). He wasn't now.

And he was tight around him. So very tight. It felt like it would be an eternity before he was fully sheathed, wrapped up by his trembling god who had used his power to fit him. One of the first things to change in this world, being able to take his cock inside him.

Internalizing that thought, Mobei-Jun growled and adjusted his grip to wrap around his husband's back, leaving his stomach exposed. Because he would not allow the loss of the sight of movement under Shang Qinghua's skin, the shape of his own cock as it carved out a space inside the god's body. The tiny figure looked up at him, his face flushed and his spread legs shaking, tiny hands feeling over the distention his king made. It was so much more than just the tiny lump he'd made in his god when he'd filled him with his seed, made his pulse rush so much faster. Made him want so much more.

And Shang Qinghua had spoiled his king for so many years that his first instinct when he wanted something from the man who'd served him, was to demand it.

His husband's eyes flew wide when the demon abruptly firmed up his grip on him, stare looking like he was planning on eating him alive. And then Mobei snapped his hips forward, driving the last of his cock deep inside the tiny body and cutting off any ability the god had to think as he came abruptly.

Mobei shuddered as he felt the feeble attempt at a clench around the base of his cock, so much more focused on the feeling of Qinghua's ass pressed there. He held him tightly in place, panting for breath as he reached for his self-control again, but it was flitting and slipped through his grasp as he began to thrust into him. Steady, smooth, but unrelenting.

Burying his face against the demon's hand, the god gasped raggedly with every thrust that rocked his whole body, so soon after his orgasm. It was... not perfect, not when he couldn't wrap his arms around his king, but it was pretty damn close! Feeling all of that power tuned to him, knowing that Mobei was as focused on him as he was on his king.

Shang Qinghua tried to move with his king’s thrusts, tried to rock up into it, but was too well stuck on the demon’s cock to move on his own. Which was an idea that was utterly hot as fuck and made him shudder, erection recovering with a speed that had to be tied to his new godhood. There was no way otherwise, unless Mobei was just that good.

Maybe he was just that good.

Every time that massive cock thrust deep into him, he half expected to feel it pushing up his throat. He’d ridden this thing just days before, arms and legs wrapped around it, so sure that it’d never fit. And now it was fucking all the way inside him!

His king guided his legs to bend up, holding them in place until Shang Qinghua got the hint and grabbed them, leaving him all that much more open. The new position changed the angle of that Mobei’s cock, and he saw sparks as it plunged deep again and again, panting for breath because it felt like all his air was stolen, making his head spin as he lost which way was really meant to be up. All he knew was Mobei’s hand around him and his cock inside him, that beautiful face looking down on him from high above.

"Fuck, I love you," he gasped between thrusts, groaning at the responding twitch his king’s cock made in response. "Want- ah- want you to fill me up again. More than once!"

The order drew another growl from his king before he sped up, using his grip on Shang Qinghua to pull him down into his thrusts. "This king will obey."

Starting very soon, because the demon was close. It was obvious with the growing desperation in his eyes, the quickening of his breath. And the fucking pulsing of his cock before he plunged it deep one more time and held Shang Qinghua in place as he came with a cry.

If the god had thought the last time Mobei had managed to come into him, just pressed to his cock was intense, it had nothing on the feeling of that cock jerking and emptying inside him. It was no wonder that the feeling sent him over the edge a moment later, gasping as his king’s cool cum poured into him with nowhere to go. His king’s cock was simply too big to let anything escape, keeping him so thoroughly plugged. He moaned helplessly, a hand over where he could see his king’s cock, able to feel the way he swelled with it. That setting had done so much more than he’d imagined!

His king’s hand released him to flop beside them on the bed and he tried to slump back as the afterglow made him feel limp, only to realize that not only was he being supported from within, but that his king was still hard.

He looked up at him, licking his lips to wet the mouth that’d suddenly run dry. "My king…?"

"Qinghua said more than once," Mobei said softly, watching him. Making no moves to pull his tiny husband from where he was more than a little stuck on his cock. Instead gently reaching down to smear the god’s own cum over his stomach before lifting the finger to his lips to lick clean.

"Y-yeah, I did say that didn’t I?" Shang Qinghua asked. Maybe it’d been poor judgment in the heat of the moment, but fuck if the idea in the post orgasm clarity still sounded amazing. Something just out the porn comics he used to read. Except Mobei was no tentacle monster. No, he was so much fucking better. "Yes, good. Ah~!"

His demon started to move again, taking advantage of the relaxed way the god’s body eased its grip to allow him to grind forward slowly, feeling the way his seed squished and sloshed against the head of his cock. A part of his mind told him that fucking into your god like he was a sex toy could be disrespectful. The rest was locked onto his mate’s face as he once more supported him, the need and desire there, and was satisfied. What made for a better sacrifice than his flesh and his seed?

The slower pace did nothing to keep Shang Qinghua from moaning and gasping as his king played his body like a musical instrument. Mobei watched him intensely, eyes rarely moving from the bulge he made and imagining how it would look larger. To have his god heavy with just his seed.

Only, he didn’t need to imagine, did he? Not for long.

The demon adjusted his grip on his husband once more so he could place his thumb over the god's cock, rocking it against him with his thrusts, savoring the way Qinghua's moans grew louder in response. The way his once-servant now only found pleasure in his hands, which in turn made his own curl in his belly. Finally the way that it should be. Just like no one else would ever be allowed to worship his god the way that he did. They would worship, yes, but not offer their bodies the same way, or make him gasp in pleasure the same way. That would be for him alone.

"Mine," Mobei said, giving a harder thrust to make his point. "Only mine."

Qinghua stared up at him, lips open as he cried out. "Yes. I'm yours, my king!"

The simple declaration, made without thought or scheming, made the demon purr as he drove faster into his god. Yes, his. After all, hadn't Qinghua been declaring his own ownership since they met? The first words of address the little god had used for him. 'My king.' Even when he'd only been a prince, young and relatively powerless. But still sculpted personally by his little god. Already loved by him.

Desired by him.

With a moan, he came once more into the divine body wrapped around his cock, making his husband gasp and shake in his hand, clinging to his fingers even as his body clung to him so tightly, like it was afraid to let him pull free. Not that he had any intention of pulling free. It didn't escape his notice the way that his seed was kept so wonderfully trapped inside as long as his cock stayed plugging Qinghua up like this. Proven with the way the god's belly swelled with how every pulse of his cock poured more into him.

Maybe his god couldn't give him an heir right now, but it was hard not to imagine it, seeing him like this. Later though, once he could bear to share some of his god's attentions.

Perhaps a lot later.

Qinghua's eyes teared up the next time he filled him, but the god just urged him to keep going, taking big gulps of air, and Mobei couldn't deny the tiny god so he kept fucking him, touching all over the small and beautiful body to wrap and overwhelm him with passion.

The fourth time, he whined about being too full, but pleaded for Mobei not to stop when he made to pull out. So he didn't, even as his own legs started to shake, his balls aching and his lips raw from biting them.

By the fifth time Mobei came inside him, Qinghua's stomach was swollen tightly between his flesh and trapped seed, the god's strength so completely drained that he'd barely been able to move except to cling to the demon's fingers. But when his royal husband began to draw him back up and off of his thoroughly spent cock, he barely made more than a whimper of protest. Finally satisfied.

Mobei cradled him in his hands, admiring his work and the mess he'd made of the little god. Qinghua's front was well splattered in his own spend, his skin flushed, and his thighs sticky as Mobei's cum was finally allowed to leak out. He appreciated the way that the god's ass didn't just stay gaped open, yet remained soft to the gentle nudge of a finger. Utterly beautiful. When Qinghua reached a shaking arm up towards him, he brought him to his lips to kiss his still-swollen stomach, his chest, and then his face. Only realizing late that he'd smeared some of that cum on his husband's cheeks in the process.

"Mobei..." Qinghua whispered fondly, exhausted. "My king. Mine."

"Your king," Mobei agreed with a soft purr. He brought his god to his chest to hold there as he sat up slowly, grimacing at the ache. But as much as the idea of just going to sleep like that appealed, Qinghua would not be comfortable if he woke with dried cum over his face and chest, thighs stuck together.

While he didn't have any hot water in the room, Mobei drew the cold away from the tiny figure so he could clean him off, his touches as gentle as possible. And his god relaxed in his hands, a tired smile on his lips as he leaned into the aftercare. Once Qinghua's skin was clean, his hair taken down from the half-bun it'd been for the ceremony, Mobei used a cloth to give himself a quick wipe down with one hand before returning them to the bed.

Shang Qinghua sighed contently as his king placed him down over his heart, feeling the muffled thump of it beneath him, hand covering him like a blanket. His king. His.

And as the night pearls extinguished, he knew no more.

-

If there was one especially good thing about apparently being a god, it was that Shang Qinghua didn't ache nearly as much as he'd figured he would when he woke in the morning. Especially with how many times he'd gotten his king to fuck him. His husband. And wasn't that just the most unbelievably amazing thought? He smiled without opening his eyes, turning his face in to nuzzle into his king's chest. The only 'duty' he had today was enjoying his king's company, meaning he didn't have any reason to get up before he wanted to. And who would want to, when they had a handsome giant holding them?

Only... something felt weird. Had Mobei moved him? It felt like his king's fingers were tangled with his legs, but his pillow didn't have the softness of a giant palm.

Confused, he blinked his eyes open, and it took him a moment to register what he was seeing.

The new god was still on top of his demon, sprawled over his chest. But those weren't fingers tangled with his legs. They were Mobei's legs. And it also wasn't a finger draping over his back, but an arm. Mobei's sleeping face was just above where he'd been pillowing his head on his chest. He swallowed, reaching up to cup his hand against a cold cheek, marveling over the fact that he could.

Because they were the same size.

The realization sank in all at once and Shang Qinghua jolted with a yelp, almost rolling off his king and falling right off the bed. And he would have, if that arm hadn't caught him.

"My king!" he gasped, looking up into Mobei's startled eyes. "I'm back to normal!"

Mobei nodded, pulling him back up onto the bed proper and abruptly caging him in his arms to lay a proper, lips to hungry lips, kiss on him. Not that the god was any less eager, throwing his arms around him and kissing back, opening his lips so Mobei could all but fuck his mouth with that tongue, stealing both their breaths away. Shang Qinghua was inwardly pleased when he wasn't the only one breathless when they broke apart.

"Fuck, I've wanted to do that for a long time," Shang Qinghua panted, leaning his forehead against Mobei's. "Do you know how hard it was to be allowed to kiss you at last, and still not able to do it properly?"

Chuckling, Mobei tightened his arms around the smaller, but no longer tiny, body. Noticing just how well it felt against him. "This king understands."

"I've wanted to kiss you for so long, even when things weren't great between us. I still wanted to kiss you," the author continued. "Even before I was brought into this world."

"This king was made for his god," Mobei agreed, bringing a hand up to stroke his cheek. "And is pleased to have been."

Turning to press a kiss to the demon's palm, marveling in the knowledge that just last night, he would have been able to curl up within it. "I love you so fucking much, my king."

Purring, the demon sat up just so he could fold the flighty peak lord who was secretly the creator of their world into his lap, holding him close and running fingers through his hair. His own way of expressing the words from a man who said little. "Does Qinghua know what cured his curse?"

Leaning into him, he smiled sheepishly. "Ah, not really? Wait, there was something yesterday during the ceremony..." Reluctant to invite the System into this moment, he nevertheless called up the window because he wanted to know too. And there it was, that notification that he'd ignored twice already. Blinking at him in a way that somehow managed to display irritation in a simple blinking light until he opened it up.

[Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Good things should be said three times! User Shang-Di has completed Stage: "Love Brings the Cure," the final stage of "Small Matters," and the curse is broken! Please leave a five-star review for your happy ending!]

Blinking at it, he expanded the quest explanation that he knew hadn't been there before, stopping at the last stage and its solution. And banished the window to snicker, burying his face against Mobei's chest again.

"Qinghua?" Mobei asked, blinking in confusion at the response. Since the two cultivators had done something to the strange blue window, he hadn't been able to read it. Divine secrets, perhaps. But while he wasn't upset, he was curious.

"Oh my king, we could have solved this ages ago!" Shang Qinghua said with a laugh. "It was the flowers. The ones in the garden. If I'd let you give them to me then, I'd have been back to normal the very next morning! They were the same kind that'd gotten into my tea in the first place! Two preparations, to shrink and to fix. It's so..." And he dissolved into snickers.

"Mn." The demon nodded slowly, watching his beloved god. He slid fingers into his hair, quietly enjoying the ability and privilege to do so. "If Qinghua had, it may have taken longer for us to achieve this."

"We'd have gotten there eventually," Qinghua said as he caught his breath, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Maybe without the whole kidnapping mess too."

Mobei considered it. He hoped it was true, that they would have been just as destined to come together. "This king is willing to deal with a traitor if it means Qinghua regains his godhood." And he would never forget seeing and hearing the man screaming his love for him, throwing away the chance to return to the heavens where he was from, for him. Despite the fear he'd felt, he would forever treasure the memory. The final proof of his god's devotion to him.

"My king..."

"Your husband will spend the rest of his life ensuring Qinghua never regrets his trade," Mobei said earnestly. "I swear to you."

Shang Qinghua swallowed. "And I'll spend my life making sure you never regret sparing the life of one outer disciple on a dirty road."

Growling softly, Mobei allowed his hands to slip down from Qinghua's back to cup his rear, pulling him against him. "This king could never regret such a thing, when it delivered his god to him."

When those big hands squeezed his ass, Shang Qinghua let out a squeak before laughing and bending his head to kiss him again. "Good. Because I don't regret not smashing your head with a rock either." And instead of explaining that, he put his hands on his king's shoulders and shoved, pushing him down onto the bed and straddling his waist. "Let's see how that stretching thing translates when we're the same size."

"Same size?" Mobei asked with a pointedly raised eyebrow, looking at the much shorter god sitting on him.

The god huffed. "Close enough!"

Using his grip on Qinghua's ass to move him into position, the demon king's eyes gleamed as they looked up at him. "We will see how close."

There was, after all, no reason to leave the bedroom that day. None at all.

Chapter Text

Linguang-Jun sneered as he settled into his seat, the mixed court of his nephew and his late brother assembling around the throne room. They'd grown cocky since the last king's death, assuming that his nephew would be weak and unguided without his human advisor in sight. He might have been foolish enough to think the same, not long ago, but knew better now.

The palace temple was still under construction, looking out into one of the gardens. Not huge, but certainly grand from what he'd seen of the sketches so far. With a broad table for offerings. But more interestingly, a beautifully carved desk with a comfortable chair holding pride of place on a raised dais. An offering in itself from a king to a god, for his personal use.

The fools in the throne room didn't know of the temple yet, though he was sure that they would soon. But what they were still ignoring was the rearranging of the seats at the head of the room. The king's throne was still in place and unchanged, of course, with its match beside it that had been empty since the last queen's death. The steward's seat and desk had been moved further down, back to its proper place. But Linguang-Jun wasn't fool enough to think that it showed a loss of favor to the one he'd assumed was human. Merely that it wouldn't be him seated there anymore.

When the doors swung open, more than a few eyes drifted towards them to see the king and his retinue arrive. First a fox demon, still slightly battered but clearly healing well, and wearing the marks of royal favor on his robes. He was the one hurrying to the steward's position with his armful of scrolls and documents, an assistant of his own carrying more. That former emperor sauntered in after him, less sitting down properly as much as draping himself against the chair like some lazy youth on a summer day. As if there was anyone who could censor him for it.

His nephew swept in after him, his head held high to let the lights glint off of the sapphire beads braided into his hair, making sure as many people as possible noticed them. Smug fool. But, perhaps, Linguang-Jun could suppose that if he had landed such a match, he might be smug too. Not that he had the temperament to deal with someone like the peak lord or his infuriating martial kin.

He'd been about to look away and find something interesting to do for the duration he was required to be there when he noticed that the king hadn't gone directly to his throne, but rather stood in place with his hand held out.

When the last figure stepped into the room, the uproar could have shattered the ice if it weren't magically protected. Linguang-Jun covered a smirk in response, finding himself approving of the display against his will. Well, at least the little thing looked the part.

Because when one Peak Lord Shang Qinghua, advisor to the king, stepped forward to take the king's hand, he was dressed in all the finery appropriate for a prince of the northern kingdom. His odd, light-colored hair pulled up and twisted into the Mobei clan braids and decorated with a matching set of betrothal beads. And around his neck, standing in bright contrast to the midnight blue silks he wore, was the necklace last seen around the late queen's throat.

Well, at least he would not be bored for a while. Particularly once the news of his true identity got out. Some of those southern lords had been getting mouthy of late. A god in their court should do nicely to shut them up. Particularly once they put together the proper wedding, instead of pretending to still be merely engaged.

His nephew guided his 'fiancé' to the queen's throne, seeing him settled before taking his own seat, never releasing his hand. Only then did he bother to acknowledge the rest of the court, eyes briefly pausing when they spotted him but saying nothing. The younger demon nodded towards the fox steward. "Begin."