Archive of Our Own ^beta

On her wedding day, Shen Jiu met Yue Qingyuan’s eyes solidly, unflinching even when it seemed that tears were pooling in their calm depths. 

He reached out- as if to touch her, embrace her, but Shen Jiu stepped back. On paper, the two of them are brothers, and she cannot bear to pry the curtains of the farce apart to see what could have been. 

No, Shen Jiu is going to secure this marriage, and Yue Qingyuan, by extension, will secure the alliance he needs to skyrocket his position in court. It doesn’t matter that the man fought tooth and nail with her every step of the way- which, in Yue Qingyuan terms, was simply telling her hundreds of times that it wasn’t necessary for her to go through with it. 

Yue Qingyuan sent her a mournful look, and Shen Jiu ignored it in favor of turning to the mirror. She pulled at her scarlet wedding robes, adjusting what already had been perfect. A moment later, she stopped herself, knowing that putting her nerves on display was the last thing she wanted to do. 

Her hair was perfect, tied up and out of her face. There wasn’t anything she could do to stall for time, and she was tremendously disrespecting her future spouse by even thinking of doing such a thing. 

Shen Jiu took a deep breath, and stepped out of the room. 

- 

Faintly, Shen Jiu could hear the sound of footsteps, accompanied by grim silence. She didn’t let it bother her, merely keeping her eyes on the ground as guests milled around. None attempted to get too close, thankfully, else Shen Jiu may have been forced to deal with assassination attempts on her wedding day. 

The doors were already open, but they creaked slightly as Shen Jiu’s future spouse stepped into the ceremonial hall. 

A steady, yet quick-footed pace, footsteps resounding loudly through the suddenly silent room. The red clad figure didn’t bother with a family member to guide her forward, simply striding forward herself onto the platform that Shen Jiu stood on. It felt oddly like a stage, as if they were the puppets putting on a show for the audience. Shen Jiu hated it immediately. 

When a set of finely tailored boots appeared in her field of vision, Shen Jiu looked up. 

She had to tilt her head further than she expected, but then she remembered that the two of them had never really stood close to each other, observing propriety even as they butted heads. Those occasions, too, had dwindled as the two of them had grown older. 

Shen Jiu met Liu Qingge’s stare dead-on, refusing to flinch even as her heartbeat sped up from the forced proximity. The other woman’s warrior’s frame can be seen easily even through the many layers of robes she wore. 

In a different life, under just slightly different circumstances, perhaps Shen Jiu could have been the wife among the two of them. 

In this one, she wordlessly listened to the Liu Matriarch’s speech, taking a gentle sip of the nuptial wine when she finished. Across from her, Liu Qingge does the same. 

The first bow- to heaven and earth. 

The second bow- to their ancestors. 

The third bow- to the parents. Only the Liu Matriarch, Liu Qingge’s grandmother, is there for this one. 

The fourth bow- to the spouse. Shen Jiu eyed the trailing crimson sleeve of her long robe instead of meeting Liu Qingge’s eyes again. It was the only tolerable option at that moment. 

With that, Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge are now married. Husband and wife. An opportunist and the most brutish woman alive. 

Tied together for life with chains made of silken thread. 

Shen Jiu dearly hopes that it’s worth it. 

- 

Sitting on the clean white sheets of their wedding chambers, Shen Jiu felt that she shouldn’t be too surprised that Liu Qingge never showed up. 

That doesn’t prevent her from being angry, however. The amount of face that he’ll lose from this- what kind of husband is left alone by his wife on the wedding night? 

Just as quickly, the melancholy sunk in. Shen Jiu is a poor excuse for a husband, of course, for reasons extending from the physical to the simple lack of something essential. 

With the knowledge that no one was coming, Shen Jiu carefully stripped herself of her robes until she was clad only in the very last inner garment. Stretching a leg across the bed, she slowly shuffled downward until she was lying atop the mattress. There wasn’t a blanket, whoever designed this layout knew that it would only get in the way. 

It’s usually rare for Shen Jiu to be so tired. It wasn’t entirely unexpected; it wasn’t every day that she had to suffer through her wedding. Unless she got really unlucky, she could count on the fact that it would be the only time she would have to. Her lashes fluttered, the fine hairs lightly brushing against the skin right beneath her eyes gently. 

Logically, Shen Jiu knew that she should get up, get dressed, leave the room, and pretend that nothing worthwhile had occurred. She shouldn’t wait in this room like she was the wife who had been abandoned by her husband on the day of their marriage. 

Shen Jiu stayed where she was, aimlessly staring at the ceiling from where she lay perfectly still on the bed. This could even be considered a boon; Liu Qingge would have no grounds to call off the marriage, as she wouldn’t discover that Shen Jiu wasn’t the man that she pretended to be. Quite literally, in fact. 

Shen Jiu once more considered getting up and leaving- but to where? The wedding had been officiated in the Liu family estate, something that Yue Qingyuan had protested, at which point Shen Jiu reminded him once more that they were the ones receiving the most benefits out of this union. 

It was likely that Shen Jiu would be directed to her own rooms in the morning, as usually there wouldn’t be a need for separate spaces on the first night. In other words, unless she wanted to crawl to Yue Qingyuan, she could only stay put. 

In the morning, the sun will rise. Shen Jiu will get up easily and shrug off any recollection of the night, or she will at least pretend to. 

With that thought as a somewhat cold comfort, Shen Jiu closed her eyes and gave in to the darkness beneath her eyelids. 

- 

Seeing off Yue Qingyuan is harder than Shen Jiu thought it would be. 

Resentment still churned in her gut, stirring up the intense hatred that she felt for the man. For his pathetic, droopy eyes, and his endless apologies. 

She knew that Yue Qingyuan could hardly stay with her, in the eyes of the world she was a married man now, and it was hardly necessary for her to continue living with him. Despite her ever-increasing paranoia, Shen Jiu knew that Yue Qingyuan could handle himself. His Qiong Ding and her Qing Jing were too well trained to fall apart with the loss of one leader. No, it wasn’t even really a loss, she just couldn’t operate as closely as before. 

Yue Qingyuan would be back, that was for sure. While they lived together in his manor- and those days were gone now- Shen Jiu could hardly get through a day without seeing his face. Good riddance, in this case, she wouldn’t have to see the man that often again. 

Still, there is a traitorous part of her heart that twisted violently as Yue Qingyuan finished fretting over her well-being and turned around to leave. The sight of his retreating back made her want to run back to him, free of the chains that had once bound her to that horrible place back then, the wall between them absent and unable to block her from following. 

There is a small, blooming hope, that if she asks, then this time, maybe Yue Qi will finally respond to that question that she’s been waiting for an answer to for a decade now. 

Except, the silence between them had grown and festered until Shen Jiu could hardly dare to claw through it this time. 

Not in a literal sense, no, as Yue Qingyuan was all too content to blabber about anything that happened during the day, whether it be him taking a walk or diplomatic negotiations. Shen Jiu, fueled by pure spite and the rot of aching betrayal, had been wholly uninterested in maintaining his ruse, sending him away in less than five exchanges whenever possible. 

Yue Qingyuan looked back one time before he left. When he saw Shen Jiu, still sitting there, arms crossed and a brow pointedly raised, he smiled that awful, reassuringly polite smile, before he opened the door. 

The ringing in her ears had never seemed so loud. 

- 

Madame Liu sipped the tea that Shen Jiu had brewed, her brow relaxing ever so slightly at the moment where the flavor must have burst across her tongue. 

If she were younger and more foolish, Shen Jiu may have mistaken that minute motion for an error, a lapse in judgement that revealed a chip in the mask that his opponent wore. Instead, it is that Madame Liu is capable of revealing the cards in her hands, comfortable, even. It is because Shen Jiu is of no threat to her, and she knows this very well. 

Shen Jiu knows why she arranged this marriage. The Liu clan obeys different societal standards compared to most other nobles; they operate by a matriarchal hierarchy. This made marriage a much more complicated endeavor than normal for them. 

Liu Qingge, is, of course, already slated to be the next Liu Matriarch. Shen Jiu personally finds it to be a bad idea, if only because the meathead is too busy chasing after her next hunt to worry about running an entire clan. Part of her is looking forward to the point in time where that brute will be buried in her new responsibilities, even if it meant that Shen Jiu would have to help her with running the clan. 

The union between her and Liu Qingge had to have been carefully thought of and approved by the woman setting down her teacup in front of her right now. As the heir, Liu Qingge couldn’t have wed the first son of a noble household, as that meant that she would be marrying into the clan. 

The battle obsessed woman clearly had no interest in marriage, but the Liu Matriarch had arranged one between the two of them anyway. Perhaps it was so that someone would pick up the slack for her when she began leading the clan, perhaps it was because she was in a small and rapidly decreasing circle of noble ladies over twenty years old who hadn’t at least gotten engaged yet. Shen Jiu wouldn’t question it further, aware that she was the reason why Yue Qingyuan had been able to establish a shaky rapport with the Liu clan. The two of them had a new and unsustainable position in court, now solidified with the connection to the Lius. 

“You have a steady hand,” Madame Liu commented, eyes not intense yet watching all the same. 

“Thanking Madame Liu for the compliment,” Shen Jiu replied, the taste of ash bitter on her tongue. 

Madame Liu merely hummed, eyes crinkling slightly as her gaze seemed to examine every last bit of Shen Jiu. She held herself perfectly still, elegant posture steadfast and breaths slow. Although she maintained eye contact, her head remained tilted slightly down, obedient but not overly so. 

“I hope that you’ll be a good husband to A’Yu,” Madame Liu said at last. 

“This one will try,” Shen Jiu replied. Madame Liu looked for something in her expression, and Shen Jiu wasn’t sure if she found it when she turned back to her tea. 

“You need a room to stay in, yes?” Madame Liu smiled. It seemed to stretch just a little too wide. “This matriarch finds A’Yu to be wonderfully accommodating. Since your marriage was rather, ah, sudden, there wasn't nearly enough time to prepare a separate room.” 

Shen Jiu stayed perfectly silent. 

“You wouldn’t mind sharing with A’Yu, would you?” 

Shen Jiu cursed nineteen generations of the Liu clan in her mind, just barely stopping her teeth from grinding together in fury. She dipped her head in a pleasant nod, giving in easily to the Madame’s bullshit. 

Madame Liu chuckled. It was a light, airy sound that nevertheless grated at Shen Jiu’s nerves. “Newlyweds do tend to spend all their time glued to each other. In the bedroom, why shouldn’t it be any different?” 

Briefly, Shen Jiu wished that she could pointedly remind Madame Liu about how her wedding night had been spent completely alone. Already, the farce of their marriage was falling apart at the seams. It hardly even seemed sustainable. 

“Where are...” Shen Jiu rolled the name over her tongue for a moment. “Liu Qingge’s quarters? This one has not had time to look around the manor.” 

Madame Liu took the end of the conversation in stride and pointed Shen Jiu toward an out-of-the-way courtyard to the left of the Liu clan’s main hall. Shen Jiu thanked her, and promptly left at a pace just a notch above what was normal. 

No one was there when Shen Jiu arrived in the courtyard. As she looked around inside the building in the center, she found a few rare servants doing menial chores. Liu Qingge was nowhere to be found. Shen Jiu began to suspect that she had simply headed out on a nighthunt the moment that the ceremony had ended. 

That wasn’t a problem for Shen Jiu, in fact she welcomed it. However, the dirty looks she had been receiving from guards and servants alike would be a large one. 

From what she knew, most of the Liu clan’s forces, as well as Liu Qingge’s personal guard, dubbed ‘Bai Zhan’, idolized their mistress. With that in mind, it was hardly a surprise that resentment had built up for her, the unwanted arranged marriage partner that Liu Qingge had never asked for. Stupid, and brutish, yes, but surprising? Certainly not. 

Shen Jiu’s eyes narrowed when she caught sight of a familiarly unpleasant face. Ji Jue seemed to have gotten quite a few promotions in recent years, last she had seen him he was a snub-nosed brat still trying to curry favors from his superiors. Hardly the type that warranted respect from her. 

Perhaps she could bring one of her own people over. Ning Yingying wasn’t a good choice; she was too naive, and honestly, there were far too many rumors that had built up around the two of them. It would be for the best to distance herself from her, lest the girl’s reputation be permanently marred. 

Ming Fan held a decently high position currently, but the respect he garnered was mostly due to Shen Qingqiu’s influence. Now that she was gone from the Yue estate, would he still hold even a fraction of that? It was still too early for his position to truly deteriorate, so if Shen Jiu wanted to ensure his loyalty, she may have to wait a little. 

She released a quiet sigh between her teeth. There was a lot she had to do to solidify her place here. 

What was new? 

- 

Through the overwhelming haze of the heat of summer, Shen Jiu walks. 

Qiu Haitang is chattering away beneath the shade of an awning. She’d sent Shen Jiu away to buy some snacks for her, fully intent on enjoying a leisurely day out. On her way back, Shen Jiu couldn’t help letting out a groan when she realized that the young mistress had left in the time when she had been gone. 

Qiu Jianluo was going to beat her into the ground later for this. Her hair was sticking to her forehead with sweat, the air sticky and disgusting. Maybe it would rain later. Right now, the sun was relentless above the town, and Shen Jiu’s vision was swimming with dizziness. 

She stumbled along the dusty old street, glancing around carefully for bright pinks of Qiu Haitang’s dress today. The fabric of her own drags her down, light yet too long and annoying all the same. Slightly fancier than a normal handmaiden’s, but she knows that both Qiu Jianluo and Tang’er enjoy her being pretty, dolled up. Like a flower in a vase to admire. 

That same flower is wilting now, as the bright white light pouring down from above overwhelms her. Shen Jiu can still remember when she was very young, and Qi-ge had shielded her eyes from San-jie’s slumped body. She’d heard, later, while feigning sleep, that she’d dropped dead from heat exhaustion. 

Panic is slowly beginning to overtake her. Qiu Haitang is nowhere in sight, and Shen Jiu is alone in the street. Her slender body and delicate face don’t go unnoticed for long; as they say, the most beautiful flowers attract the ugliest pigs. Shen Jiu would laugh at the saying if she hadn’t noticed the eyes turning from a few groups of men, both young and old, along the street. 

She knows what she looks like. Young, a little too young. Ink-black hair spilling down in a smooth curtain. An unblemished face, seemingly soft. She knows what those beasts think. 

As she rounds a corner of the street, Shen Jiu spots pink robes. She broke into a dead sprint in order to run up to Qiu Haitang as soon as possible. 

Her spotty vision has her misjudging her balance. She isn’t able to stop herself perfectly in front of the young mistress, like she’d meant to. Instead, the two of them collide with a tangle of limbs and a shout of shock. 

When Shen Jiu opens her eyes, her heart sinks. She’s draped over the front of a young mistress in pink, yes, but it isn’t Qiu Haitang. Her frame is a little larger, shoulders broad and sturdy in a way that was the complete opposite of who Shen Jiu was looking for. She can feel hard muscle beneath her fingers- she had caught herself on her hands when she had fallen. 

Shen Jiu hurriedly pulled herself to her feet, scrambling off the girl in front of her. Across from her, she slowly did the same. When the unknown young miss stood, she held herself like someone who didn’t know how to stand in a dress. Awkwardly, with squared shoulders and furrowed eyebrows. A light blush had made its way over her cheeks. 

The parasol that the other girl had been holding had fallen to the ground when Shen Jiu had bumped into her, so she quickly picked it up. It was grey, completely opposite of the look that whoever had surely forced her into the flowery pink robes that she was wearing was clearly going for. She didn’t hand it back yet, seeing as the young mistress was still getting to her feet. 

Thankfully, the parasol provided Shen Jiu with some much needed shade. When the girl she had bumped into stood fully, she didn’t ask her for it back, instead just staring at Shen Jiu with sharp, slate grey eyes. 

“This one apologizes!” Shen Jiu bowed, though only just low enough to show respect. Anxiously, she glanced behind her to look for her pursuers. A few braver ones rounded the corner as she watched. Shen Jiu nervously clutched onto the parasol tighter, wondering if she could turn it into a makeshift weapon if she needed to fend them off. 

However, a mere handful of moments later, the men slunk back around the corner, fearful expressions painted on their faces. Shen Jiu, confused, glanced back at the girl in pink to find her expression hard, fixed in an unyielding glare that spoke of someone used to wielding authority. Thrown off-kilter, Shen Jiu watched as the look softened when she noticed her watching. 

Unsure of what to say, the two stared at each other in silence for an extended period of time, awkwardness infusing the encounter. Was the random young mistress more important than she thought? Growing up, Shen Jiu had only known of the Qiu household and a few of their vassals, thus she didn’t hold much knowledge of many noble households. 

“Thanking-” 

“A’Jiu!” Shen Jiu spun around, eyes widening as she saw Qiu Haitang rushing for her. She’d dropped the sweets that she’d wanted sometime when she had noticed the unwanted attention she had garnered. Even if she had held onto them, she doubted that they’d be edible for a pampered young mistress. 

“Young mistress Qiu, this one apologizes-” 

Qiu Haitang grabbed her hand, the one not holding the parasol aloft. Shen Jiu winced at the tight grip. “Enough of that! Where were you? Tang’er has been looking all over for you!” 

“Ah, this one was just-” 

Qiu Haitang glared at the girl Shen Jiu had just been talking to, a heat in her gaze that Shen Jiu rarely saw from the young miss. However, she didn’t try to confront her, merely turning away with a ‘hmph’. She didn’t hesitate to drag Shen Jiu away, tugging her along behind as her guards followed. Luckily, it seemed that she had forgotten all about the sweets that she had asked her to acquire. 

“I should tell A’Luo to keep you closer,” Qiu Haitang huffed. “How come the moment I turn my back, you go off to have fun with some other girl?” 

“Haha...” Unsure of what to say, Shen Jiu bit her lips. “It wasn’t like that.” Not to mention that she’d been sent off by the young miss herself. When she chanced a glance behind her, she noticed that the girl in pink was still watching her, having not moved an inch from where she was standing. 

Then, Qiu Haitang’s first sentence registered to Shen Jiu. 

Qiu Jianluo was... not going to be happy. 

“Really? Well, it sure looked like that to me!” 

“Young miss...” Shen Jiu tried to placate her, but Qiu Haitang was having none of it. She merely turned away, showing her displeasure clearly. Even if she didn’t tell anything to her dear brother, the guards were surely going to report everything. 

Realizing that she was still holding onto the parasol, Shen Jiu closed it, holding it by her side like it was natural. Qiu Haitang didn’t bother trying to take it from her, perhaps she had forgotten that she hadn’t given her one in the first place. 

Really, Shen Jiu hoped that Yue Qi had made it into the service of Qiong Ding, like he said he would. She wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take. 

- 

Years later, when she pulled her sword out of Wu Yanzi’s back, she would look into the eyes of Yue Qingyuan, heir of the Yue clan and all of Qiong Ding. 

It would occur to her, then, that he didn’t even know one of the basest truths about her, as she had pretended to be his brother all of their youth anyway. When he would offer to adopt ‘him’ into the family, she would accept. 

Shen Jiu hadn’t really believed that Yue Qi would come for her. She’d thought that he would die on the way, and had accepted that when she’d driven that decorative sword deep into Qiu Jianluo’s chest, when she’d allowed the fire from a knocked-over candle to creep hungrily across wooden floorboards. When she’d gone with Wu Yanzi to find his bleached bones alongside the roads they’d walked. 

She hadn’t thought that he’d live long enough that it would matter that she was deceiving him. 

It had been a survival method at first, so that she wouldn’t be sold to the brothels as a child. It had been discovered by Qiu Jianluo, who had given her a nasty grin while her clothes were torn to shreds on the floor. Now, there were too many advantages that being a man brought, no matter how much she despised it. Gaining a marriage that pulled them up the social ladder, for one. 

There might be more to it, too. The silence that has surrounded them is not so easily breachable, by either one of them, after all. 

- 

A month into Shen Jiu’s marriage- without a single glimpse of Liu Qingge since that first day- the Liu matriarch dies. 

Distantly, Shen Jiu finds that this must be the reason that she was so desperate to find Liu Qingge a partner. There hadn’t been much time left for her, after all. 

The rain is pouring down around them, a fitting display of sorrow from the very heavens themselves. Shen Jiu holds aloft above her head a grey parasol. She isn’t sure why she carried it with her from the burning of the Qiu manor, nor why she kept it for the decade after. The only thing she’d told herself was the flimsy use of ‘she might need to use it eventually’. 

She hadn’t even, really, instead keeping it locked away in a box. It wasn’t as if she wanted to look at the thing, a reminder of the miserable life she had led before, after all. 

Shen Jiu twirled the parasol around absentmindedly. It wasn’t made for the rain, but it worked just fine. The droplets that had gathered on the edge of the covering spun away in a whip-fast spiral, a blur of translucency. 

The number on Madame Liu’s tombstone reads six hundred ninety two. That was about the upper limit for cultivators of her caliber, and from what Shen Jiu had heard, she had given up on cultivation after the deaths of Liu Qingge’s parents. 

The number on Shen Jiu’s gravestone won’t exceed a hundred. Her cultivation is unstable, her health weak. She once dreamed of becoming a powerful cultivator, but Wu Yanzi had ruined that for her. Even so, without her faulty, crippled cultivation, Shen Jiu doubted that she’d last a year. 

She doesn’t feel much about Madame Liu’s death. The two of them had only talked once or twice more after that first conversation that they’d had. The only thing she’d thought when she heard the news being delivered was, that’s a shame. 

Shen Jiu chanced a glance at Liu Qingge out of the corner of her eye. Madame Liu had addressed her as her beloved A’Yu, after all. Shen Jiu wouldn’t sneer too much if she cried. 

Probably. She wouldn’t make any promises, if it were truly asked of her. 

Liu Qingge isn’t crying. Shen Jiu wasn’t certain at first, as she wasn’t carrying an umbrella and was being soaked by the rain. Water ran in rivulets down her face, soaking through her hair and clothes alike. Her expression looks the same as always, stoic and perhaps a little intimidating, to those who haven’t lived like Shen Jiu. Her sword is still strapped to her side, despite the funerary processions going on around them. The coffin is slowly lowered into the ground. 

To be buried in a coffin, how greedy. Shen Jiu wondered if she would have to be lowered into this courtyard when she died, or if she could request to have her ashes scattered in the wind. 

Liu Qingge shifted, the movement impatient. Shen Jiu frowned. Even to one not so bound by sentiment, was wanting to get it over with really a staple part of funerals? 

‘Be a good husband to A’Yu’. If only Madame Liu knew just how impossible her words truly would. If she tried, what would she do? Comforting Liu Qingge- scratch that, comforting anyone was completely outside her skill set. What was she supposed to do, go up to her and cradle her close? 

Shen Jiu was saved from having to deliberate further when Liu Qingge turned to her herself. 

It seemed to just be a passing glance at first, so Shen Jiu pretended to take no notice of it. However, when it lingered, she turned around and looked directly at Liu Qingge. 

Her eyes were fixed on the parasol in Shen Jiu’s hands. Taken by a sudden burst of pettiness, Shen Jiu spun it again, sending the water clinging to the edges directly into Liu Qingge’s eyes when it flew. 

Shen Jiu paused, hands tightening around the stick of the handle. She shouldn’t have done that. Trepidation had her clutching even tighter at the rod, knuckles whitening from when they had gotten flushed with the cold in the air. From a soft, flushed pink to a cold white, her fingertips almost instinctively grasped the parasol’s ‘hilt’ like how she used to hold her sword. 

Liu Qingge’s eyes were drawn to the motion, because of course they were. She made no comment as she stepped closer to Shen Jiu. 

Able to step back, Shen Jiu nevertheless refused to do so and stood her ground. In her mind’s eye, a picture is painted; Liu Qingge, strong and sure, strides across the dark ground beneath their feet amidst a grey torrent of rain. It’s a dreary sight, Shen Jiu’s dark robes blending in easily among a crowd of mourners, while Liu Qingge’s remain the white-and-grey that she always wears. If she painted this sight, adding a point of color would make it look better- she could make her parasol a vivid red or viridescent in shade. Although, she has never been one to let her imagination take her away when creating based on real life. Should she ever have the time, she’ll keep the painting of this scene a dull grey. 

Liu Qingge comes to a stop in front of Shen Jiu. Both of their robes flutter softly when a cold wind blows past them, but Shen Jiu’s make it further, only a few rare edges touched by the rain. The new Liu lord hardly seems bothered, though a fleeting thought in Shen Jiu’s mind tells her that she should offer for her wife to join her under the parasol. 

Shen Jiu tilted her head up just slightly to hold eye contact with Liu Qingge, raising a single delicate eyebrow. The two of them hold each other’s gazes for a few long moments. 

Liu Qingge looks away first. Shen Jiu stared at her for a moment after, some type of dull feeling buzzing in her chest, unidentifiable, but very present. 

The rain continues pouring. Later, in the courtyard she had been assigned, the walls dulling the sound, Shen Jiu turned the parasol over in her hands. 

She can’t easily recall the girl from back then, memories a little hazy from time and the heat of that day. 

However, if she reconstructs the encounter in her mind, she can’t help but think that there was a beauty mark beneath one of her sharp, widened eyes. 

- 

Sometimes, when Shen Jiu’s thoughts wander, she wonders where she would be if she had never tried to grasp the power that being a man held. Honestly, probably not much; her current circumstances are oddly similar to a daughter married off to the most powerful family that was available to them, though different because she had been the one to decide for Yue Qingyuan. If she were known as a woman, she would probably have just been married to someone else. 

Shen Jiu used to think that she would end up married to Qi-ge. That one day after it was all over, she’d tell him the truth- because Qi-ge was terrible at keeping secrets. Then her life had steadily gone downhill, and she couldn’t bring herself to trust this new, strange version of Yue Qi. 

Yue Qingyuan hadn’t visited yet, it was usually the ‘honeymoon phase’ of newlywed couples during this time. The bastard was probably secretly glad to wash his hands of Shen Jiu at long last, anyhow. 

Shen Jiu’s days had so far been spent dodging ‘pranks’ from the Bai Zhan group. Altogether, this hadn’t amounted to much, as they couldn’t bring anything actually harmful into their master’s abode. 

It had been beneficial toward Shen Jiu’s ruse that Liu Qingge was hardly ever back at the Liu estate, but that had promptly ended when she had inherited the position of lord. Not that it was unexpected, hoping for such a thing would be too much to wish for. 

It was a stupid mistake, really, getting used to falling asleep in Liu Qingge’s bedroom. One that she had made, somehow. Not that it had been a problem, that is, until Liu Qingge stepped into the courtyard for the first time in months on the day of her grandmother’s funeral. 

Shen Jiu, thankfully, hadn’t undressed yet, simply sitting at Liu Qingge’s writing desk working on the stack of paperwork that she’d managed to snatch for herself courtesy of the now late Madame Liu. Having responsibilities was useful, as it got the household to lean on her more with each duty that she held. Heavens knew that the Bai Zhan brutes were practically illiterate anyhow. 

She’d gotten absorbed in her work, lost in gentle brushstrokes and clean pages. It was why, when she felt the nape of her neck tickled with steady breaths, she spun around furiously, picking up the ink container and throwing it as hard as she could. 

The porcelain shattered when it hit a sturdy chest. Ink splattered on white fabric, staining the cloth black, running down and sinking into the fiber of the clothes. A bolt of shock hit Shen Jiu when she saw that it was Liu Qingge behind her, silent and seemingly stoic as she looked at her newly stained robes. 

Shen Jiu flinched back, suddenly aware of where she was; in Liu Qingge’s chambers, cornered against the wall. If any servants heard her scream, they’d be likely to turn a deaf ear. 

“What are you doing?” Liu Qingge asked, a furrow to her brow indicating her confusion and slight anger. “Why are you here?” 

“Apologies for the mess,” slipped out of Shen Jiu’s mouth, somehow sounding cool and composed. “This one will...” 

She moved as if to take the robe off, before she stopped, unsure how to approach the situation. Liu Qingge’s eyes shifted back to her dirtied outer layer, before she carelessly shrugged it off onto the floor. Shen Jiu averted her eyes when that left Liu Qingge in only three layers. Nevermind that she was her wife, Shen Jiu had barely even spoken to her before. 

“Why are you here?” Liu Qingge repeated, eyes narrowing as they scanned Shen Jiu up and down. Shen Jiu set her brush down lightly on the table and moved to show that her hands were empty. 

“The... former madam instructed me to stay here,” Shen Jiu said carefully. She glanced down, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw that her loosened robes had not come undone. Just to make sure, she pulled the ties a little bit tighter and knotted them so that there would be no chance of them slipping. Her bindings didn’t come off until she slept, so that wasn't an issue as well. 

“My grandmother?” Liu Qingge looked confused again, though she showed it more openly this time. 

No, the Skinner demon masquerading as her, Shen Jiu thought scathingly. Instead of saying that aloud, she waited for Liu Qingge’s brain to come up with whatever it wanted to. 

In the end, it looked like Liu Qingge discarded the thought as easily as she discarded her clothes. “I’ll be moving into the matriarch’s rooms soon,” she said, before hesitating slightly. “These are the heir’s chambers.” 

“I take it I wasn’t supposed to be here?” 

“Mn. You can come with me into the madam’s quarters.” 

Shen Jiu blinked, surprised at the sudden... offer? It didn’t really sound like one, rather more like a command. She nodded, unsure of the consequences if she refused. Liu Qingge seemed satisfied enough, giving her a nod in turn before retreating, the ink-stained outer robe still held under her arm. It was all so sudden- one minute Liu Qingge was there, an invader in her personal space and far too close- the next she was gone. How odd. 

Fine, if Liu Qingge wanted Shen Jiu to share a room with her she would. However, no matter how straightforward the brute was, having her sleep in close quarters with her was improper at best- although she supposed it wouldn’t be considered so since they were married. 

That was where a new problem arose: did Liu Qingge want to finally consummate their marriage? If that was the case, then Shen Jiu would have to prepare a bucketload of wine or maybe some knockout pollen, as she was physically incapable of doing so the way that Liu Qingge would be hoping for. By no fault of her own, in this case. 

Shen Jiu eyed the few splotches of ink that had made it onto the floor before looking away with a sigh. Someone else could handle that, for now Shen Jiu needed to think of something, fast. 

- 

The window to the outside displayed hillsides, bare of trees except for a few small scatters. Dusk was descending upon the Liu estate, reaching out and obscuring faraway scenery with inky darkness. The last vestiges of gold were still disappearing beyond the line of the glowing horizon, but that too would soon be swallowed up by twilight. 

In the end, Shen Jiu did procure some wine from the storage room. However, Liu Qingge didn’t even glance at it as she moved past the desk it sat on to loom in front of Shen Jiu with her arms crossed. 

Shen Jiu looks up and holds Liu Qingge’s gaze squarely. Of course, it’s a guarantee that her nerves buzz to life at the closeness at which Liu Qingge stood. Not as much as they should be, which is noteworthy. Perhaps it is because the brute is a woman, or perhaps it is because there is not a trace of lust in those steely eyes, but Shen Jiu begins to think that perhaps the wine wasn’t necessary. 

Liu Qingge’s golden core could have easily burned out the alcohol, most likely, but Shen Jiu hadn’t had time for any other plans anyway. She hadn’t had anything else on hand that could potentially blur the memory of a high level cultivator. 

“Do you have something to say?” Shen Jiu asked, as politely as she could manage, once the silence had festered for too long. It certainly seemed that Liu Qingge did- it wasn’t very noticeable, but the way she eyed Shen Jiu and shifted slightly was telling. 

Liu Qingge nodded, but didn’t say anything. It seemed that she was attempting to gather her words, though that surely must be incredibly difficult for her. The moment dragged on, longer and longer as Shen Jiu felt herself steadily grow more impatient. 

“And that is?” she prodded. Some of her annoyance must have shown on her face, as Liu Qingge only had to stare at her for one more instant before finally spitting some words out. 

“I have no interest in men,” she said. 

Shen Jiu blinked, nearly choking on a laugh that never made it out the hollow of her throat. She struggled to contain her expression in its usual blank slate, though settled for huffing out a slight noise. 

For some reason, the statement amused her far more than it should. What would be the look on Liu Qingge’s face if she tore open her robes, exposing herself, snarling nastily: “Do I look like a man to you, Liu Qingge?” 

It’s rather humorous, so Shen Jiu allows herself that small laugh. 

Realistically, she knows the true meaning behind those words. Liu Qingge has no interest in worldly pleasures, choosing instead to focus her life and being solely on her cultivation, or perhaps grand pursuits of her next fight. Sure, Shen Jiu never expected otherwise from her, though she could hardly say that aloud. 

“That should be no problem,” she settled for instead. 

Liu Qingge seemed to accept that, nodding with a firm tilt to her head. She uncrossed her arms, moving to sit beside Shen Jiu on the bed. Then, she was kicking off her boots and fully laying down on one side of the mattress. 

Speechless, Shen Jiu stared after her. Liu Qingge was just going to... sleep now? What was the point of any of this? Bringing her to the master bedroom of all things? 

Was Liu Qingge really going to trust her, who she had met only a bare few times in the past, all of which had ended with them tense over the most mundane of things, to not do anything while she slept? Sure, she was no lecher, no matter the rumors, but shouldn’t Liu Qingge be more wary over such matters? 

At the very least, shouldn’t she be readying herself for a stab in the back? 

Maybe it was a test. That was all that Shen Jiu could think of right now. She carefully shuffled to lie down as well, on her side so that she was facing away from Liu Qingge, whose face was tilted toward the wall. 

Of course, she didn’t fall asleep easily, her body tense and trying to prepare itself for something. Even after Liu Qingge’s breathing evened out, Shen Jiu simply lay there, unable to properly relax. 

A long while later, Shen Jiu’s eyes still remained open, having long since picked apart every detail of the dark room she was in. It wasn’t a particularly riveting task; the room was bare, though she didn’t know if it had been like that in the possession of the previous Madame Liu or if Liu Qingge had stripped it clean. 

With a quiet sigh, Shen Jiu shifted from her position into a sitting one. The window above Liu Qingge’s head was still open, and because of her shoddy foundation, the cold still found a way to seep into her bones. She stood, stepping carefully off the bed and then around it to get closer. 

Outside, there was hardly any light. Almost complete darkness, except for the few still-burning candles inside some of the homes below, and the tiny pinpricks of light carried by fireflies in the shadowy grass or bushes. It took a moment for Shen Jiu to find the right clasp to pull down the paper shield for the window, drawing it shut with a light clack as the metal that lined the bottom met the sill. 

As she stretched upward, standing on the tips of her toes to reach the cord of the curtain and draw it shut, Shen Jiu felt a brush of air against her nape when there should have been nothing. She spun around, heart in her throat and curtains forgotten. 

The bedsheets had been tossed carelessly aside. Shen Jiu lost her footing and stumbled, back pressed to the window. Liu Qingge’s leg pinned her ankle against the wall uncomfortably, to the point of pain. 

Liu Qingge pressed forward, until the two of them were nearly nose-to-nose. Her eyes were burning, expression twisted into a fearsome scowl as she slammed a hand beside Shen Jiu’s face. The paper covering seemed very close to tearing beneath Liu Qingge’s show of strength in mere moments. 

Pinned beneath Liu Qingge, Shen Jiu froze. The look on Liu Qingge’s face displayed a single-minded, bloodthirsty rage. The two of them were far too close for her comfort, not to mention how their chests were practically pressed up against each other. Her bindings helped when there were many layers of robes between her and someone else, but feeling the flesh for yourself was different. 

The stupid fucking curtains, tied up in a way that looped them around the horizontal rod at the top edge of the window, finally undid themselves from the partial knot that Shen Jiu had been working on. Shen Jiu might have been inclined to curse out the design choice a little more, but the look on Liu Qingge’s face when the cloth fell over her head and shoulders was an abrupt enough shift from threatening to comical that she felt more like laughing. 

A few seconds of absolute silence ticked by. Then, Liu Qingge stepped back, releasing Shen Jiu and coughing into her fist; clearing her throat. 

“Sorry. I thought...” 

Shen Jiu stared at her with disbelief, still slumped against the window. Liu Qingge pulled her up, until they were both standing across from each other, like what it would be like to have a civilized conversation with a civilized person. 

“Thought what?” Shen Jiu asked, deadly slow and furious. When Liu Qingge’s eyes refused to meet her own, she continued, uncaring that her voice was rising higher, in tone and not just volume. “Thought what, you uncivilized brute!” 

“The metal...” Liu Qingge trailed off, giving up on averting her gaze and meeting her head-on instead. It’s different enough from Yue Qingyuan that Shen Jiu can feel her irritation stutter for a moment, and then promptly reignite with a vengeance. “The metal...” Liu Qingge trailed off, giving up on averting her gaze and meeting her head-on instead. It’s different enough from Yue Qingyuan that Shen Jiu can feel her irritation stutter for a moment, and then promptly reignite with a vengeance. 

The thing was, Shen Jiu could not afford to piss Liu Qingge off. As the new Liu Matriarch, the woman standing across from her was fully capable of booting her from the manor on a whim. It was hard to tell if she knew it, to be honest, but it wasn’t like Shen Jiu to take that chance. She had to calm down. 

Breathe. In and out, just like she had on her wedding day. Easy. She’s fine. 

Shen Jiu met Liu Qingge’s eyes again. Something burned white-hot in her chest and then she turned around to storm straight out of the room. 

- 

There was a tray of assorted snacks in the center of the table, and two teacups sitting on either side of it. There was also tea running everywhere, spilling from the center of the wood and then off the edge in great rivulets. 

Shen Jiu looked at Liu Qingge, and then at the teapot in her hands. The porcelain was cracking, spiderwebbing from the handle, where Liu Qingge was gripping it much too hard. Shen Jiu didn’t even bother to observe that, however, instead only having eyes for the waterfall of liquid that should have been a trickle pouring from the spout. 

Liu Qingge hurriedly tilted the pot back, but the damage had been done. Shen Jiu watched as another drop slid off the table. Her brutish spouse sat the teapot back on the table, and it promptly cracked down the middle, splitting into hundreds of tiny shards. 

A cough. “Sorry.” Liu Qingge even looked a little ashamed, if the redness of her cheeks was anything to go by. 

“...It’s fine,” Shen Jiu managed faintly. She stood, carefully reaching for the shattered porcelain. 

Liu Qingge grabbed her hand a little too roughly, stopping her in her tracks. “You don’t have to. I’ll call a servant.” 

For some reason, the person that came was Ji Jue, who was a guard. Shen Jiu could imagine why; his fanatical idolization of Liu Qingge was as deep as his bone-deep loathing of Shen Jiu. He sent Shen Jiu a dirty look as he swept the table with a cloth. A droplet or two flung through the air, landing on Shen Jiu’s outer robe. 

Dispassionately, she looked down. It was hardly noticeable. Green tea on green robes. It still made her want to pull the entire thing off. 

“Ji Jue,” Liu Qingge snapped. 

“Sorry, mistress.” 

Shen Jiu could laugh. She’d thought that Liu Qingge hated her – to the point that she’d thought that she would try to kill her in the middle of the night. To be the one defending her right now, how funny was that? 

“Shen Qingqiu is my husband,” Liu Qingge said. Whatever she said afterward was lost to the dull thudding in Shen Jiu’s skull. 

Shen Jiu, now, can feel something crawling up her throat. If only poor, idiotic Liu Qingge knew the truth. 

- 

Surprisingly, Liu Qingge didn’t give up. A day later, the two of them were out in the market together. For some festival that Shen Jiu never bothered to remember the name of, never celebrated. 

There were little stalls lining the roads, every tiny bit of space occupied by wood or wares or the vendors themselves. It’s all very bright, loud, and colorful, despite how the sky was beginning to creep into purple. Liu Qingge easily shouldered her way through the crowd, a hand in Shen Jiu’s. So as to not lose her way, of course. 

The black banner of her ponytail flapped with the wind. Her shoulders were broad and muscled; perfect for shoving through a crowd. The calluses on her hand were rough against Shen Jiu’s skin, but she found that she didn’t mind much. Her own hands were rough through hours of holding her brush, and longer ago her sword. 

Liu Qingge stopped in front of a small shop, one that had a building instead of just being set out on the street. She stepped inside, and Shen Jiu waited beside the doors. 

Of course, because men are men, one with a drunken swagger cornered her within what was surely less than a fifth of an incense stick. He shoved his hand – large, with dirt encrusted under the nails – beside her head. Far too close, his breath and hers mingled, disgusting with the stench as he muttered something out. Shen Jiu didn’t listen to a word of it. 

It felt like someone else was there, but Shen Jiu had long since escaped that little dark space she’d been trapped in. She was larger, stronger – strong enough. 

A hand crept to her face, caressing her cheek, leaving pinpricks of disgust behind. Shen Jiu slapped it away. The man paused, eyes narrowing. 

He raised a hand. Detached, Shen Jiu watched as the door beside her opened, old wood creaking loudly, and Liu Qingge stepped out. 

Tall and imposing, her hand caught the man’s. There was nothing gentle about the way the limb crumpled in her grip, twisting unnaturally where it was caught. The man screamed. The passersby, bystanders as they all were, looked over, saw Liu Qingge, and kept moving. 

Good. Just keep going, don’t stop and stare. 

Liu Qingge handed her a thin object. It took Shen Jiu a moment to register it as a stick of tanghulu. 

Huh. So that’d been what Liu Qingge had gone in to get. Shen Jiu murmured out her thanks as Liu Qingge’s cheeks reddened. 

The first bite was sweet. An explosion across her tongue, bright and sugary. Just like in those days when she was young and reckless, running through the streets to snatch one of those very candy sticks to eat in an alleyway. 

She took her time eating, cleanly, with the learned restraint that had come with no longer being able to scarf down her food without displaying a profound lack of manners. Liu Qingge polished off her own when she was halfway done with hers. 

After that, it’s a blur of sight and sensation. Shen Jiu knew that she finished her stick of candy eventually and then had gotten dragged around by Liu Qingge for a good while afterward. 

At some point, the two of them were holding a lantern between each other. Shen Jiu focused, biting her lip as she delicately drew a few characters on the slip of paper meant to go inside the outer shell. She looked up to see Liu Qingge’s waiting stare. 

The brute launched the lantern up with the force characteristic of her. It shot upward into the sky, knocking aside a bunch of other paper crafts on its path toward the heavens. A small dot of moving orange, discernable from the rest by its rapid flight. It stilled and then was lost among the sea of lanternlight. 

It’s so bright. Liu Qingge’s face was lit up by the overhead lights, and Shen Jiu knew her own was as well. There was something missing between them here, but Shen Jiu turned away to look skyward instead, choosing to focus somewhere else. 

- 

Sometimes, Liu Qingge wasn’t so bad. Like when it was the middle of the night, and Shen Jiu was unceremoniously pulled into strong arms. 

Liu Qingge had a strong everything. Her chest was hard and muscled against Shen Jiu’s back in these little pockets of space where time felt thin, unreal. Like the flow of tea when Shen Jiu was the one to pour. Plink, plink, each droplet falling into place easily, without question. 

In the darkness of night, bracketed by those arms and pressed against that chest, Shen Jiu found herself drifting off easily more often than not. 

Sometimes, it felt safe with Liu Qingge. Sometimes, that hazy, full feeling failed to dissipate by morning. 

That, of course, is a very dangerous thing. 

- 

It was foolish to even consider that this game of hide-and-seek could last forever. Even so, it felt like too soon when Shen Jiu turned the corner in the market one day and bumped into Qiu Haitang. 

“Ah, sorr-” Qiu Haitang started. It felt like the world moved in slow motion; she saw Shen Jiu, her eyes slowly widened, and then there was a hate in them that Shen Jiu had never seen before. Her hand raised and Shen Jiu’s cheek was burning. Maybe the shape of a handprint would be there later, red and angry. She didn’t care, not now in the moment. 

“You!” Qiu Haitang hissed out, a certain fire in her gaze that made it difficult to meet. Before she could get any more words out, Shen Jiu was spinning away in the crowd, a hurried flutter of silks. 

Liu Qingge gave her a questioning look when she made it back to the estate. Shen Jiu did her best to steel her expression and insist that nothing of importance had happened. 

- 

Shen Jiu should’ve known that something was wrong when she had laid eyes on Ji Jue’s satisfied smirk on her way to the banquet hall. 

The event was large; it was the official celebration of Liu Qingge’s rise in status to the matriarch of the Liu clan. She herself had arranged a great deal of the hall, finding the right decorations and placements. There were far too many guests, all high-class of course. Yue Qingyuan was there, lingering in the corner, occasionally approached by other nobles. 

Then there was Ji Jue, standing in the hallway, smiling to himself as she brushed past. She didn’t pay attention to him, not finding it unusual that he tried to pull something on her. 

She stayed in the hall for quite a while, making small talk with anyone who wanted to suck up to or size up Liu Qingge’s husband. Annoying, yes, but not something she was unused to. 

From afar, Liu Qingge seemed regal and steady. Her gait was sure, her spine straight as she spoke to whoever came up to her. If Shen Jiu got closer, she knew that she’d find that their conversation was as one-sided as could be. A question or compliment, and then “Mm” as the response. 

It’s not the worst thing, of course. Shen Jiu wondered just why Liu Qingge had been so talkative years ago – hell, she couldn’t even remember what their arguments back then had been about. Trade agreements, mainly. So utterly trivial now, but back then they had butted heads like it was a matter of life or death. That’s probably why they hardly saw each other for years afterward, until their marriage, that was. 

Shen Jiu twirled the glass of wine in her hand. Once, twice, the rotation sending the drops up, clinging to the side, never enough to spill. She looked over at Liu Qingge again, finding the brute’s head tilted toward a woman in soft green robes. 

Her heart just about stopped when the woman tilted her head and she saw familiar round eyes, tears gathering at the edges. A pitiful look, drawing murmurs from the nearby crowd, though not quite yet those around Shen Jiu. 

Qiu Haitang was here. How was she here?! 

Shen Jiu felt as if her limbs had been frozen solid; she was rooted to the ground, unable to do anything but clutch at her glass and stare. Liu Qingge tilted her head, looking confused. 

Qiu Haitang’s voice rose in volume. “I know she’s here! Your servant told me everything – that murderer is here, enjoying all the comforts of life.” 

Liu Qingge’s tone was cold when she responded. “Miss Qiu, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. There is no such woman here.” 

“I’m not lying! Shen Jiu – does that name ring a bell?” 

Liu Qingge paused, expression growing wary, tense. With mounting dread, Shen Jiu watched as slowly, her head turned, until she was staring at her across the hall. Her breaths came thready, her free hand clenching so tightly that her nails dug into her palm. 

With that turn of Liu Qingge’s head, Qiu Haitang followed. Rage filled her eyes as she caught sight of Shen Jiu, a maelstrom of anger. She crossed the banquet hall, uncaring of the whispers that filled the room. As soon as she reached Shen Jiu, she grasped at her robes and then tore. 

The sound of a rip, loud in the sudden silence. Shen Jiu watched with muted horror, almost like an observer, as the top of her robes came apart, cloth tearing and then gone, clenched tightly in Qiu Haitang's fist. The hall was suddenly dead silent. Shen Jiu couldn't bear to look Yue Qingyuan's way, her eyes remaining fixed on the strip of fabric that Qiu Haitang still held.

There was a curious moment where it seemed that neither of them knew what to say. Qiu Haitang's eyes were narrowed, all the fine lines on her face displaying her anger. She looked like a vengeful spirit; eyes glowing orange in the soft candlelight. If Shen Jiu wanted to, she could reach over and sweep the candles off the table; burn her own life down in flames like she'd done to Qiu Haitang years ago.

"You whore!" Qiu Haitang shouted, righteous fury lining her voice. "We were so kind to you! You were engaged to my brother! Why would you-" She broke off into a sob, hands coming up to cover her face.

Even in the throes of such apparent pain in this confrontation, she managed to get out another few words. "If you preferred women so much more, we could've changed the engagement so that you'd marry me instead!" The words were probably supposed to be mocking, but they came out wet and sad instead.

Shen Jiu supposed that it wouldn't make much sense from an outside view. She was going to be Qiu-furen, the second-highest authority in the entire Qiu household. The only person she'd be below was her husband.

That was the problem, wasn't it?

For a moment, she wondered if Qiu Haitang had ever figured out why she'd gotten so close to Shen Jiu in the first place. If she'd ever realized why she was always tugging Shen Jiu everywhere, a hand on her waist or wrist or arm.

If Shen Jiu were like this back when she was young, she might've taken advantage of Qiu Haitang's clueless love. She was a better woman, or rather girl, that long ago, though. She never would've thought that she'd end up regretting dragging the young mistress from that burning building.

Was she in love with Qiu Haitang? She'll never know.

As Qiu Haitang opened her mouth again, her entire body was jerked away. Shen Jiu blinked, caught off guard when she saw Liu Qingge behind the other woman, fingers practically digging into the arm in her hand. Hm. It was a good thing that her nails were always kept trimmed and short.

"Stop," Liu Qingge practically growled out.

Qiu Haitang whipped around. "You-"

"We can address your grievances in a private setting," Liu Qingge, who had apparently learned some sense in the past few months, said. "Shen Jiu is my wife."

Qiu Haitang stared at her for a moment, a peculiar expression crossing her face. "You don't care that-"

"Leave," Liu Qingge stonewalled. With a wave of her hand, the group of guards that had been assigned to supervise the banquet hurried forward to escort Qiu Haitang out. Ji Jue was not among them.

Shen Jiu supposed that she should feel relief now. Instead, a tight ball of dread coalesced in the pit of her stomach. Liu Qingge looked back at her once before turning and following her guards.

…Huh. At least Qiu Haitang hadn't let it slip that she used to be a slave.

- 

At night, Shen Jiu considered for perhaps too long if she could avoid Liu Qingge. However, sleeping outside of the other woman's bed would probably result in the brute chasing her down wherever else she was and dragging her back, which was not a desirable prospect in the least.

So, here she was, standing in the doorway as Liu Qingge reclined on the bed, not even trying to appear like she was readying herself to sleep. Her hair, thankfully untied from her long ponytail when she slept, rolled down her back in a long curtain.

"…" Shen Jiu stared at her. There was something different in Liu Qingge's eyes now. Was she going to be kicked out? Locked up somewhere? "What did Qiu Haitang tell you?"

"Come here," Liu Qingge said, beckoning her closer. Shen Jiu hesitated for a moment but ended up stepping forward, sitting beside Liu Qingge, back against the headboard. To her surprise, Liu Qingge reached out and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her closer until she was seated on her lap. The two of them had never shared this kind of intimacy before, excluding when Liu Qingge was dead to the world and it was the middle of the night.

Shen Jiu sighed, slumping down and relaxing against the hard planes of Liu Qingge's body. Maybe the so-called Bai Zhan War Goddess felt bad about whatever she was going to do next. It was something that people did; the common scholar got treated a little more nicely by his boss before his notice of forced resignation arrived on his desk. Shen Jiu didn't see the point, but maybe that was just her.

"Were you that girl in the town square?" Liu Qingge asked, nosing at Shen Jiu's neck. "The one I gave my parasol to ages ago."

Shen Jiu snorted. "I wouldn't say that you gave it to me." A pause. "But yes, that was me."

"Do you regret it?"

"What? Burning down the Qiu manor?" When Shen Jiu received no denial, she continued: "I suppose I do."

She doesn't. She never will. Liu Qingge didn't know that, though.

"What was the real reason you did it?" Liu Qingge asked, tightening her arms around her waist.

"There were a lot of reasons," Shen Jiu said, not lying for once. "Most of them came from her brother."

Liu Qingge frowned. "Miss Qiu had a lot of admiration for her brother." It's an accusation, yet not one at the same time.

"I didn't want to marry him."

"I'm glad you didn't," Liu Qingge agreed. Like that, the conversation naturally trickled off, with nothing else to say. Shen Jiu mulled over what she had said and revealed, but found nothing horribly wrong. At least she hadn't lost her temper; that would've been awful. Liu Qingge did know what to say sometimes, it appeared.

Shen Jiu closed her eyes. It wouldn't be particularly comfortable sleeping here, but it wasn't so bad. She was secure in Liu Qingge's lap, and warm too. Unthinkingly, she moved closer, a leg slipping until one of Liu Qingge's thighs was abruptly between her own.

Quickly, she shuffled back up, only to be caught off guard when Liu Qingge's arms shot out faster than she could blink and held her in place. She knew, Liu Qingge didn't-

"What are you doing?" Shen Jiu yelped as a hand come down, ghosting over her chest.

"Don't you remember?" Liu Qingge asked, pinching her through her bindings. "I'm not interested in men."

Shen Jiu stilled. There was no way — Liu Qingge meant that literally back then?!

Before she can think better of it, she's blurting out: "You're the stupidest person I've ever met."

Liu Qingge's hand didn't even still. She gently stroked at Shen Jiu's skin through the cloth, teasing. "Can I?"

Shen Jiu didn't respond; her face far too thin to actually speak the words aloud. Her cheeks flushed bright red, and as Liu Qingge saw, her lips gave a tiny yet smug smile.

Liu Qingge gently eased the layers of her robes off her, and then divested her of her pants. She paused as the bindings came off and Shen Jiu's cleavage became visible; the reason why Shen Jiu had to bind suddenly apparent. Liu Qingge seemed happy with the development, taking a handful of flesh into her hand and squeezing gently but firmly.

Shen Jiu squirmed, thighs growing damp as Liu Qingge continued. The other woman noticed; her knee was still wedged between her legs. That tiny smirk only widened as they continued, that knee coming up to- Oh.

Liu Qingge, slightly impatiently, reached for the ties of her own robes and practically tore them off her body. Her hands, rough but still so warm, encircled Shen Jiu's thighs, pulling them apart to display what lay between.

The rest of the night, well, it could perhaps most aptly be described as climactic.

- 

In the morning, Shen Jiu woke slowly. The stupid, loud blinds woke her when Liu Qingge pulled them down, stopping the sunlight from hitting Shen Jiu's face. Groggy and annoyed, she snapped a half-jumbled insult at Liu Qingge before pulling the blankets over her head.

The chuckle the other woman gave was muffled from the covers, but Shen Jiu heard it nonetheless. With an aching body and pink cheeks, she tried to bury herself deeper into the bed.

There was a slight fog in her head and she was for once hazy from sleep. It had been too long since she'd felt something like this, okay?

There were still a lot of things to do. Qiu Haitang was probably still lingering around somewhere. Ugh… Yue Qingyuan would definitely want to speak to her. There were nobles to appease and lie to.

…That could all wait for later, Shen Jiu decided.

She was going back to sleep.