Chapter Text
Liu Qingge had never been one to take naps. His mind had a hard enough time shutting off as it was, so sleep had always been a disciplined routine for him. Though it was different when he had someone laying on top of him, head resting on his chest. He wondered what Shen Yuan thought, hearing how quickly Liu Qingge’s heart ran. He had snippets of memory as his consciousness began to fade.
A figure stood over him, gently plucking the phone out of his hand before it crashed down atop Shen Yuan’s head. Lips pressed a kiss to his temple, and then to his mouth. His mind drifted.
Then he dreamed.
Sometimes in his dreams he was back home with his cultivation. He would be on another nighthunt, following the tracks of one beast or another. So much of his life had been dedicated to training and fighting, it’s where his dreams often followed. His current dream was a strange one – because he was in pain. His entire body was stiff and exhausted. He partially wondered if that was because he had fallen asleep with Shen Yuan on top of him.
Then he heard a hum.
Liu Qingge’s eyes snapped open. Several things clicked for him at the same time. He acted at once. He circulated his qi through his body, breathing tightly through his nose. His heart pounded like a battering ram inside his chest. Every single one of his muscles were weakened from disuse. Aches smarted up every single corner of his body. Massive amounts of demonic qi suppressed the entire room, making it hard to breathe. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a figure swathed in dark robes, leaning over Shen Qingqiu. His robe was open far too darlingly, exposing his chest.
…it wasn’t Luo Binghe.
There was no scar on his chest. The body type was wrong. The hair was wrong. The face was also very wrong. Massive amounts of qi rolled off of the stranger, and it was fully demonic.
Anger curled through Liu Qingge and he threw himself into a sitting position. His hand flew out, and Cheng Luan sang as it arched through the air and snapped into the palm of his hand.
It had been ages since he had last held Cheng Luan, and now his body sang. He tried lurching off the bed but his body wouldn’t respond. It was frustrating. He almost yelped in pain as his muscles twinged and twisted in protest.
The stranger on the bed was kissing Shen Qingqiu! Liu Qingge saw red.
(In the back of his mind, he recognized that his shixiong’s thin face would probably take decades to recover from this… Mainly from the fact that he was kissing the stranger back. It was obvious that he wasn’t in his right mind, murmuring “Binghe.” Liu Qingge tried to shout at him to open his damned eyes, but… his voice wisped out of his throat like dust atop a scroll.)
“There were other methods of energy transference… Though I do prefer my partners more… cognitive in bed. But now that you’re so eager, perhaps we could…?”
Luo Binghe seemingly came out of the shadows. He was a blur of pure rage and vengeance, tearing across the room and launching himself at the stranger. Two bodies wrenched away from Shen Qingqiu and slammed into the ground. Eyes glowing red, Luo Binghe snarled in the stranger’s face. The zuiyin on his forehead pulsed.
Massive amounts of demonic qi flooded the room. Between that and Liu Qingge struggling to regain control of his body, he felt like he might pass out. It felt as if he was disconnected from himself. His limbs wouldn’t respond as he tried to shift and move them. Cramps started spasming up his legs and torso, and knocked the breath clean from his lungs. It took all his strength to remain sitting.
He wanted to throw himself into battle, to work in tandem with Luo Binghe.
But the thought of moving seemed like a far off dream, seeing as he could hardly stay upright.
On another bed, Shen Qingqiu stared in wide-eyed disbelief at the two tumbling figures on the ground. Blood sprayed across rock. A sharp breath escaped Shen Qingqiu, his hands tightening on the blankets. He seemed to be having an easier time than Liu Qingge moving about, almost as if he just woke up from an extended night’s rest.
Liu Qingge finally took stock of the rest of the room; it was more of a cavern with five beds. He did not recognize the area. Thick stone surrounded them on all sides. He belatedly wondered if they were somewhere in the Ling Xi Caves. On the far side of the cavern, Shang Qinghua was having a slightly easier time than Liu Qingge rising to his feet.
Damn it.
The An Ding peak lord wore nothing but a thin medical robe, hair pooling down around his shoulders. His eyes were widened with terror as he watched the fight in the middle of the cavern. On the other side of him, the Mobei prince had risen into a crouch atop his bed, cringing and snarling. He was getting ready to help Luo Binghe in the fight.
Damn demons and their recovery speed.
Liu Qingge threw his legs aside and almost shouted from the sheer agony that twisted up his body. He collapsed forward, breathing heavily.
That’s when he noticed that the six of them were not alone. There were Qian Cao disciples in the room – one stood at Liu Qingge’s side, nervously taking his arm to assess his health and trying to get him to stop moving.
Through hazy pain, he spotted Yue Qingyuan and Mu Qingfang. The sect leader watched, hand tight around the hilt of his sword. Despite the calm detachment of his expression, his hand was white-knuckled.
Across the cavern, Mu Qingfang met Liu Qingge’s gaze. He spotted Cheng Luan in his hand and gave the barest nod of approval before his eyes dragged back to the snarling mess at the center of the cavern.
One of the heavenly demons grabbed the other and slammed him repeatedly into the harsh stone. Bone cracked. Blood and matter splattered in an arc.
“What.” Liu Qingge demanded, voice weak.
His eyes caught sight of another fucking demon. This one stood in the shadows, scales speckling up his neck and on his cheeks. His snake-like eyes watched the fight almost dispassionately, if not for the tension in his stance. The man looked coiled and ready to strike at any instant, as soon as the moment called for it.
The bodies wrestling on the ground parted with an explosion of power. Someone flew and slammed against the far wall, cracking stone. It was Luo Binghe. He slummed onto the ground, wheezing as his bones reknit. Blood dripped from his lips. He glared at the stranger, wrath billowing around him with his qi.
“Ah…” The stranger stood, wiping out his robes. They were in tatters, blood coating his front. With each passing second, the wounds closed. He reached up and popped his jaw back into place. A lazy, indulgent smile filled his lips. He looked as if he should be lounging across a throne with a drink in hand, not in the middle of a battle. “You have your mother’s temper.”
With Cheng Luan in hand, Liu Qingge tore from the bed. He settled into a fighting stance. His vision blanked out as pain ripped through him. He controlled his breathing to stop himself from passing out. The Qian Cao disciple cried out in surprise while someone muttered, “Of course the War God is already on his feet…”
As Liu Qingge regained his senses, he reassessed the situation: demon in the corner, the Mobei prince ready to fight, Shen Qingqiu was mobile, Shang Qinghua was semi-mobile, and both the sect leader and Mu Qingfang were ready to join the battle. But for some reason… they weren’t.
First if they were going to get out of this alive, he needed to get their best fighter back into shape. His voice cut across the heavy quiet of the cavern. “Binghe. Breathe.”
Fighting the other heavenly demon while enraged would not help him. Luo Binghe blinked, wiping sweat from his brow. He rose out of his feral crouch and sank into one of the fighting stances that Liu Qingge worked through with him.
“Call your blade,” Liu Qingge told him.
Luo Binghe hesitated. There were no swords sitting by any of their bedsides. By all appearances, they should be unarmed.
That was not the case.
There was a bladed fan near Shen Qingqiu, one that he quickly plucked up and flicked open to cover the lower half of his face. His sharp eyes cut across the room as he too began to assess the situation.
Liu Qingge noted that one of the Qian Cao disciples had an empty sheath. That meant that they had stepped into the area carrying Cheng Luan as if it were their own sword.
Which meant that Yue Qingyuan and Mu Qingfang had been prepared for the stranger’s presence and had also been prepared to trick him.
Was this meant to be an ambush?
Liu Qingge circulated qi through his body. Even though he was on his feet and did not waver, he knew if he tried to take a single step he would fall. His body hadn’t been active in months now. Even with the help of circulating qi, his muscles were fatigued and kept cramping. He would be useless in a fight. Just standing was already taking everything out of him. Mu Qingfang had to know that – which meant that this wasn’t about fighting.
It was posturing.
Fuck.
This entire fucking situation depended on lying. Liu Qingge was terrible at lying. But he was good at remaining stoic and calm. He would rely on the others to twist words. For now, he focused on the truth: “He favors his left side; prior injury still healing.”
The stranger’s smile sharpened, eyes glinting dangerously as they narrowed at Liu Qingge.
“Spotted,” Luo Binghe said. He set off, hand outstretched. Zheng Yang flew from another disciple and slapped into the palm of his hand. Spiritual qi harmonized with demonic pulses, coalescing around the half-demon.
The two met again in an explosion of energy. A few disciples cringed at the oppressive wave of qi. One even took a few staggering steps out of the cavern to fall to their knees and wretch.
“This master would appreciate it if these caves weren’t torn asunder,” Mu Qingfang said, dryly.
With a sharp laugh, the stranger held his hand out. A blade formed from shadows into the palm of his hand. With a single flick of his wrist, he cut towards Luo Binghe.
Eyes widening, Luo Binghe barely had time to dodge. He side-stepped just in time. A massive slice of energy cut right through the stone walls and floor, leaving a gauge deep enough that Liu Qingge could stick his arm into it. If Luo Binghe hadn’t moved, it might have cut him clean in half.
Liu Qingge kept his breathing slow and his expression determined. But he was terrified. He couldn’t do what he did best – and that was fight. He was useless; nothing better than a sword someone left hanging on the wall. He could barely stand on his feet. If this all came to blows-
Mu Qingfang sighed heavily.
“Ah… my hand slipped. Apologies, A-Fang,” the stranger said, rising to stand at his full height. His eyes pulsed red.
Luo Binghe’s attention narrowed on the sword. He took half a step back, grimly determined.
If Liu Qingge didn’t know him so well, he wouldn’t have noticed that Luo Binghe had paled. He glanced over at Shen Qingqiu, whose eyes had widened ever so slightly at the blade in the stranger’s hands.
That’s when Liu Qingge recognized it: Xin Mo.
A dark aura hummed around the blade, resonating demonic qi.
“Tianlang-Jun,” Mu Qingfang answered in a sardonic tone, “if you would stop provoking my patients.”
That name hit like the heavy strike of a gong. Liu Qingge almost swayed on his feet. Tianlang-Jun. The previous demonic emperor – the one that had previously been trapped underneath a mountain. What the hell was he doing here? Why the hell was he kissing Shen Qingqiu!?
The oppressive aura around Tianlang-Jun receded. He let Xin Mo drop from his hand, fading away into the shadows, and shook out his fingers as if he had been holding something hot. He flashed Mu Qingfang a benign, innocent glance. “I underestimated how possessive my son would be.”
Luo Binghe snarled in response.
Ah. That… made sense, didn’t it? Tianlang-Jun was the last remaining heavenly demon that Liu Qingge knew of. He was known to have gotten involved with someone from Huan Hua Palace. Of course the results were Luo Binghe. He watched his beloved out of the corner of his eye, wondering how Luo Binghe was doing meeting his birth father.
Liu Qingge wanted to kill the man himself.
He also wanted to step over and press a hand on Luo Binghe’s back to help ground him. Though the fourth demon still lurked in the corner, suppressing his own aura. It was like a snake in the underbrush, waiting for the perfect moment to catch its prey unaware. Liu Qingge wouldn’t take his eyes off of him for a second.
With graceful ease, Shen Qingqiu rose from the bed. It was sort of difficult to see the man as anything but Shen Yuan with a mask on. Even with Shen Qingqiu’s cold indifference and the way he held his fan in front of his face, in Liu Qingge’s mind’s eye he saw the shorter man with a bedhead and sleepy eyes.
Shen Qingqiu threw pointed looks towards Shang Qinghua, who had taken a few shaky steps away from his bed. The An Ding peak lord was a little too preoccupied to notice the Qing Jing peak lord’s glance; he was muttering under his breath and dragging his fingers through his hair. Panic widened his eyes as he frantically looked around, as if trying to find some way to put out a raging fire.
“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu said, mildly. His eyes were on Tianlang-Jun’s sword hand.
Understanding the unsaid question instantly, Luo Binghe shook his head minutely.
His connection to Xin Mo was severed completely.
Shen Qingqiu’s face did not even twitch, yet Liu Qingge spotted the way his fingers tightened on the fan.
It was apparently very bad news that Luo Binghe no longer had Xin Mo – and even worse news that his sire now had control of it. From what little Liu Qingghe had seen of the blade, and what he had heard reading through PIDW, it was extremely bad news. Dread sank his heart.
They were going to die here after everything, weren’t they?
No, Liu Qingge tightened his hold on Cheng Luan, feeling the sword hum between his palms, I won’t lose.
“Now,” Tianlang-Jun said, straightening the tatters of his lapels, “since we’re all present-”
“Su Xiyan did not betray you!” Shang Qinghua yelped. He apparently had figured out how to put out his metaphorical fire.
Tianlang-Jun’s expression did not change, but somehow Liu Qingge knew whatever Shang Qinghua just said was a mistake.
Standing on trembling legs, Shang Qinghua choked out, “She was betrayed by her own sect! The Old Palace Master captured her and held her within the Water Prison, and used her to draw you out!” He gulped. “She tried… she tried to go to you after she escaped, but it was too late.”
Liu Qingge had thought Tianlang-Jun’s aura overwhelming before.
Now it was downright crushing. In a flash, Tianlang-Jun was across the cavern. He had snatched a hand around Shang Qinghua’s throat and held him aloft. His eyes blared red, dark energy swarming around him in sparks and tendrils.
Disciples buckled and crumpled onto the ground.
Shen Qingqiu choked and spit out some blood.
It took everything Liu Qingge had not to collapse onto his knees. He took one wavering step backwards. One of the muscles in his calf started cramping. It felt as if someone had carved their fingers into the meat of his leg and started braiding his muscle into a tight knot. Sweat dotted across his forehead and he bit his own tongue to stop himself from panting from exertion.
The Bai Zhan War God could not be exhausted from standing.
Snarling, the Mobei prince lurched towards Shang Qinghua and Tianlang-Jun. Screaming, Shang Qinghua held out a hand and begged, “No! No! My king, please, please! It isn’t worth it!”
Eyes wide, the ice demon drew to a sharp stop. He stood, poised to strike.
“P-Please, my king, save yourself-” Shang Qinghua wheezed. “Go.”
“And leave in the middle of such a regaling performance?” Tianlang-Jun asked. Despite the power radiating off of him and the maddened gleam in his eye, he held a deceptively careless poise. He was every bit a royal, down to the terrifying certainty that nothing in this world could really hurt him.
“N-Not…” Shang Qinghua choked. “L-Lying!”
With calm steps, Mu Qingfang walked up behind them. Despite the power radiating around Tianlang-Jun, he hardly winced as he reached out a hand and placed it on the heavenly demon’s shoulder. “Tianlang-Jun,” he said, evenly. “Remember what we spoke about; that sword of yours?”
Tianlang-Jun hummed.
The ice demon twitched.
With a flick of the heavenly demon’s hand, the Mobei prince went flying and smashed into the opposite wall. The entire cavern shook and pieces of debris began to litter from the roof.
Shang Qinghua cried out, reaching to cling onto Tianlang-Jun. “Stop! Stop! I’m not lying, I’m not-”
“You have fifteen seconds to impress me with your lies, or your life is forfeit,” Tianlang-Jun said pleasantly.
Ice started to spread across the floor from the Mobei prince. He slowly started to rise to his feet again.
“This master would not recommend such a course of action,” Shen Qingqiu drawled with faux calm.
Tianlang-Jun tilted his head to show that he was listening.
“The tiniest puncture is all it takes,” Shen Qingqiu added.
After a long breath, Tianlang-Jun turned his head just enough to spare the doctor a glance. His eyebrows raised. “A-Fang. You know most poisons won’t work on me.”
It was then that Liu Qingge noticed Mu Qingfang’s other hand. A sharp needle gleamed between his fingers, and it was pressed close to Tianlang-Jun’s spine.
“It will be enough.” Shen Qingqiu drew out towards the center of the room, fanning himself lightly.
Mu Qingfang explained calmly, as if he were reading numbers off a scroll, “The poison is one that attacks demonic qi. Your constitution will be enough to negate its effects, eventually.”
“You will be incapacitated long enough for Qinghua-shidi’s demon to have grabbed him and taken him to safety,” Shen Qingqiu continued. “By the time you’ve regained consciousness, all disciples will have fled from the room, and Binghe will be prepared to reengage you in combat.”
The aura around Tianlang-Jun began to shrink. His eyes sparked with amusement. “That is why we’re here, isn’t it?” He spoke directly to Mu Qingfang now, a flash of betrayal twisting his features. “You planned for all of this. You knew a fight would break out.”
“A healer must always be prepared to face the worst outcome,” Mu Qingfang answered, calmly. After a moment’s hesitation he added, “We have no intention of capturing or harming you.”
Disbelief twisted Tianglang-Jun’s expression. It dripped away piece by piece until he was smiling benignly, eyes flat and expressionless. His gaze lifted to Shen Qingqiu. “Mm… my son will face me, but did you account for my nephew?”
“Sect Leader Yue should be suitable to face him.” Shen Qingqiu dipped his head towards the sect leader who stood calmly amidst the storm of demonic qi.
Instead of saying anything, Yue Qingyuan dipped his head politely to the heavenly demon. He let out some of his own aura. There was so much condensed qi in the air that the air started to shimmer as if spurned by the direct heat of the sun.
While the heavenly demon was preoccupied, disciples started to escape from the cavern. More than a few could not handle the amount of energy flooding the place.
“The Xuan Su Sword is a mighty opponent,” Shen Qingqiu continued, coldly. “He is the one who beat you during his discipleship. How strong do you think he is now?” Raising an eyebrow, the Qing Jing peak lord looked every ounce arrogant and untouchable.
Liu Qingge knew he was screaming on the inside.
“Your nephew would be too focused on survival, and would not see the poisoned needle flying his way,” the Qing Jing peak lord finished.
Calmly, Mu Qingfang showed his hand. He had multiple needles waiting to pierce their targets. He turned his head just enough to give the snake demon an apologetic nod.
The snake demon dipped his head in understanding.
“Mn…” Tianlang-Jun considered that turn of events. “My nephew would be down long enough for you to successfully apprehend him or kill him.”
Head bowed in shame despite the battle being theoretical, the snake demon said, “I am sorry, my lord.”
“It is to be expected, nephew,” Tianlang-Jun said, humored.
“As soon as your nephew is apprehended, you will be fighting alone.” Shen Qingqiu concluded. He spoke matter-of-factly, as if it wasn’t absurd that all of them were having an imaginary battle. “You will lose.”
Tianlang-Jun laughed cheerfully. “You did not account for one thing.”
“Which is?”
“My son cannot defeat me.” Tianlang-Jun flared his aura, eyes glowing brilliantly.
Shen Qingqiu’s eyes narrowed.
“Besides, your beloved war god is incapable of a fight,” the heavenly demon concluded. “That needle of A-Fang’s will not be swift enough to prevent me from crushing the An Ding peak lord’s windpipe. And we are in the middle of your sect. I survived one mountain coming down on top of me. What do you suppose is another?”
Gritting his teeth, Liu Qingge flared his own qi. He launched himself forward, landing right before the heavenly demon. His entire body strained, muscles shrieking. He swallowed it down and thrust the point of his blade towards Tianlang-Jun. “Try me!” He shouted.
He hoped his limbs weren’t shaking as much as he felt they were. It was hard keeping his breath even. If the heavenly demon so wished, he could easily bat Liu Qingge aside. But the point of this wasn’t to fight.
It was to out bluff a heavenly demon.
Something in Tianlang-Jun’s eyes flickered as he stared down the blade. His indolent smile faded slightly.
“Tianlang-Jun,” Mu Qingfang said. His voice softened into a soothing tone. He still had one hand on the heavenly demon’s shoulder, and it was then that Liu Qingge realized that the healer had been exchanging energy with the man this entire time – possibly trying to negate the effects of that cursed sword.
“As you can see, Qingge has made an expedient recovery. The Bai Zhan War God is undefeated,” Shen Qingqiu boasted, chin raised. “He is second to none except the Xuan Su Sword. Dare you try your hand at facing him?”
Hearing Shen Qingqiu praise him…
Well. Liu Qingge couldn’t help it if he were standing a little taller, his resolve strengthened.
“The An Ding peak lord may not be impressive in his martial feats, but you are a fool to dismiss him so quickly,” Shen Qingqiu ridiculed. “You think crushing his windpipe would do anything to him? This master would be surprised if such an attempt had any effect at all.”
“And as for the mountain?” Tianlang-Jun asked, mildly amused.
“You say another mountain falling on you is of little importance,” Shen Qingqiu said, thoughtfully. “This master knows you are bluffing. Your recovery from your previous incarceration has had its lasting effects on you. You’re no longer at the same level as you were before, when you first went head to head with Sect Leader Yue. Besides…” With a twist of his fan, Shen Qingqiu let out a burst of qi. Wind swept up all around him, whipping around his robes and making his hair splay artfully around him. His eyes were sharp and dangerous, as cutting as the breeze that shot across the cavern and sliced a clean cut under Tianlang-Jun’s eye. “We are in the Ling Xi Caves, a place potent with spiritual qi. We will not tire as quickly as you might hope.”
Liu Qingge…
Ah.
He was really in love with that man, wasn’t he?
“Last of all,” Shen Qingqiu claimed, “you can not hope to defeat Luo Binghe.”
“Oh?” Tianlang-Jun raised an eyebrow. “I have Xin Mo. What does he have?”
For the first time since they had woken, Yue Qingyuan spoke. He stepped up beside Luo Binghe, exuding serenity as he said, “His entire martial family.”
A shocked, shaky breath escaped Luo Binghe. He stared at the sect leader in disbelief.
Such a proclamation was one thing to say when facing a common enemy. Liu Qingge hated to admit it, but he wondered if the sect leader would echo such thoughts when faced against the other sects.
Laughter rumbled from Tianlang-Jun. He stared down Yue Qingyuan, as if looking for the lie. When he didn’t find one, his face twisted. All at once, his aura completely vanished. “So, you are right. I lose in this scenario.”
“Indeed,” Mu Qingfang said, still glowering fiercely like a parent scolding their unruly child. “So assuage any intention of harming my martial brother.” He stepped around and caught Tianlang-Jun’s wrist, the one that held the An Ding peak lord.
Shang Qinghua stared at Mu Qingfang wide-eyed. Tears had sprouted in the corners of his eyes.
Thoroughly amused, as if he had just pulled off a grand joke and hadn’t threatened everyone’s lives, Tianlang-Jun released his hold on the small peak lord.
With a choked gasp, Shang Qinghua dropped to the ground. He immediately backpedaled, skidding across the cavern floor. He managed to blindly throw himself into the arms of the Mobei prince, who snapped his teeth at Tianlang-Jun.
Sighing, Tianlang-Jun turned his attention to Mu Qingfang. With his free hand, he reached up and gently traced his knuckles along the doctor’s cheek “Well, well, well. I’d always known humans to be cunning. How is it that I keep underestimating you?”
Mu Qingfang’s expression fell into its normal placidity. He shoved the brazen hand aside and said, “As I said, a doctor prepares for the worst case scenario should a patient have a relapse. Much like you are close to experiencing. Now,” he forcefully took Tianlang-Jun’s wrists like an unruly child, “Close your mind off to Xin Mo so I may treat you.”
Tianlang-Jun hummed. The dark churning energy around him calmed, and the reddened madness faded from his eyes. “A-Fang, I think I may be in love with you.”
With a weary sigh, Mu Qingfang shook his head and focused on examining his health. “This master has been over this, Tianlang-Jun. That is just Xin Mo and your starvation for interpersonal connections.”
Smiling pleasantly, Tianlang-Jun looked at Mu Qingfang coyly from underneath his lashes. “Mm…. I suppose we will have to see after you treat me, A-Fang.”
That was it.
They did it.
It took everything in Liu Qingge’s power not to collapse right then and there, though he knew he could not move.
Reading this, Luo Binghe darted across the cavern and possessively snapped, “Get away from that man, Shishu!” He grabbed onto Liu Qingge and hauled him away, hiding the fact that he was bracing most of Liu Qingge’s weight as he dragged him.
Liu Qingge never wanted to kiss him more.
Not that he wasn’t also embarrassed at being manhandled in such a manner. He snapped, “Brat!”
Ignoring his protests, Luo Binghe hauled him back to his bed and made him sit down.
“Ah… the Resentment of Chunshan did not mention this. Is one person not enough for my son?” Tianlang-Jun asked, amused. “Must he claim two?”
Luo Binghe threw a dark look towards his sire.
“You need not worry,” Tianlang-Jun said with a satisfied smile. “I had only kissed your precious shizun to bring you all back to this world. I’ve no intentions on him.” His eyes slid to Shen Qingqiu with an eyebrow raised. “Unless, of course, Peak Lord Shen would like to continue-”
Lurching back onto his feet, Liu Qingge threw a glare towards the heavenly demon. “Die!”
“This lord will cut off your tongue,” Luo Binghe snarled.
Tianlang-Jun merely laughed.
Embarrassment colored up Shen Qingqiu’s neck and settled in his ears. His fan covered the lower half of his face, his eyes falling to the side. From this angle, his expression was visible to Liu Qingge and Luo Binghe. His mouth was twisted in mortified disdain. With a stiff turn of his head, Shen Qingqiu demanded, “Will anyone care to explain what is going on?”
Liu Qingge heard Shen Yuan’s voice in his head, What the fuck? What the fuck!?! He almost smiled. Then his legs buckled. A hand casually caught his waist and tugged him back onto the bed. Luo Binghe was far too good of an actor. He verbally scorned Liu Qingge for getting out of bed, making it seem like it wasn’t Liu Qingge’s body failing that made him flop but an overbearing half-demon. It was partially embarrassing, but it also felt nice being close to him. It felt safer that way. Liu Qingge accepted the doting with the quietest sigh of relief as spiritual qi sank into his overexerted muscles.
On his other side, Shen Qingqiu drifted to them. His fan was still up, obscuring his face. After the… incident involving Tianlang-Jun earlier, his shixiong would probably not even have the face to even look in their direction. Frankly, it was shocking that he moved to stand beside them.
To Liu Qingge’s surprise, his thin-faced love turned to him and began to subtly fret over his health. He kept glancing towards Luo Binghe. The two had a silent conversation, worrying over him.
Ugh.
(Liu Qingge loved them.)
Now that all three of them were together, Liu Qingge felt better. He felt as if nothing could stop them or harm them, as long as they were by another’s side.
“Before we delve into that,” Tianglang-Jun drawled, eyes shifting from the three of them over to Shang Qinghua, who practically sat within the Mobei prince’s lap. Both of them had scooted off into the furthest corner from Tianlang-Jun. One glared threateningly, and the other still appeared pale and uncertain. “I believe there’s a certain matter we need to resolve.”
Shang Qinghua let out a soft, weak sound. He turned and whispered to his ice demon.
An annoyed growl ripped from the back of the ice demon’s throat. He snatched Shang Qinghua’s chin in his hand, forcefully turning his face to meet his eyes. “Stop telling this lord to go. He will never leave his A-Fei.”
Then he kissed him.
Shang Qinghua barely had time to squawk. His legs flew into the air as the Mobei prince wrapped him up in a tight hold, safely in his lap.
Liu Qingge turned away at the shameless display.
“At least they finally figured it out,” Luo Binghe said, smirking.
Deciding that didn’t need a response, Liu Qingge ignored him.
Shen Qingqiu, on the other hand, murmured, “Oh. So it’s like that.”
Both Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge exchanged a glance.
The fan snapped up in front of Shen Qingqiu’s face and he hissed, “What!? Don’t give me that!”
“Shizun…” Luo Binghe said, exasperated and so deeply in love. The corner of his mouth curled with soft delight. He shook his head.
“This master does not know what his disciple is implying,” Shen Qingqiu grumbled. He snapped the fan closed to rap Luo Binghe on the top of his head.
“To think,” Tianlang-Jun cut in, “nearly two decades ago, all the sects would upend everything to trap a single man underneath a mountain for consorting with a cultivator. What would they think, seeing such a display now? Not one, but three peak lords now involved with demons. And not just any demons, but heir to the Mobei line and the spawn of the union that inspired all the sects to unite in the first place.” His eyes slid over to Yue Qingyuan, accusingly. “You truly expect me to believe that you, who went so far as to face me in battle, would suddenly be so lenient to such affiliations?”
“When the two of us faced,” Yue Qingyuan said, staidly, “we had been led to believe that you had captured Head Disciple Su Xiyan. When we recently became reacquainted, it became apparent that you believed otherwise.” His eyes flickered towards Shang Qinghua. “And it appears that there is one who might be able to illuminate the truth for us all.”
“And you expect me to believe that this man,” Tianlang-Jun said as he threw one of his hands towards the An Ding peak lord, his voice dipping into an annoyed growl, “would know such intimate details that occurred two decades ago in an entirely different sect?”
With a harsh sound, Mu Qingfang forcefully caught his wrist once again and threw a warning glance at Tianlang-Jun. “Stop moving, and calm down. Begin those breathing exercises we walked through.”
“Ah… A-Fang…” Tianlang-Jun breathed out through his nose. He closed his eyes and walked himself through meditative exercises.
“Qinghua-shixiong is a seer,” Mu Qingfang said. “As is Shen-shixiong.”
Both men in question were startled.
“Seers?” Tianlang-Jun echoed. Demonic qi sparked around him. There was a red glimmer in his eye as he drew attention from one “seer” to the other. “All the seers I’ve had the pleasure of meeting were all liars. Humans are so good at making up stories. Why would this be anything other than that?”
The mood of the room shifted once more.
Liu Qingge tensed, sensing they weren’t all out of danger. Any wrong move, and the heavenly demon would be ready to rip them apart. His jaw clenched.
Drawing his shoulders back, Shen Qingqiu took half a step forward. (Wait. How was he standing on his own? How did he seem perfectly okay when Liu Qingge could hardly sit up straight?) Lazily waving his fan, the Qing Jing peak lord said, “You’re familiar with the Holy Mausoleum."
Tianlang-Jun’s expression shifted. He raised an eyebrow, humored. “This lord is indeed familiar. He shouldn’t be surprised that a scholar’s peak would house such information about such a sacred place to us demons.”
“Knowledge of the Holy Mausoleum is limited to even the generic demonic populace,” Shen Qingqiu said, blandly. “Fewer still know that there are three halls: Delight, Fury and Sorrow.”
“Difficult information to obtain, certainly. But not impossible.”
The corner of Shen Qingqiu’s lip curved in his own delight. He then described a trap located within the Hall of Fury – a portrait of a woman’s face, along with the sequence of steps it took to cross it safely.
Liu Qingge recalled that Shen Yuan had reread the entirety of PIDW. He had grown embarrassed over it and said he was “studying,” though Liu Qingge knew that he only missed this world.
He understood that.
Tianlang-Jun studied Shen Qingqiu for a long, drawn out moment. He hummed. “While that certainly all sounds nice, how am I to test it?”
An annoyed huff escaped Luo Binghe and he crossed his arms. “We don’t need to prove anything to you.”
“On the contrary,” Tianlang-Jun said, voice falling into a dangerous whisper. “These next few moments might very well change the fate of the cultivation world.” His eyes slid over to the An Ding peak lord. “Your turn.”
“Fuck!” Shang Qinghua paled. He reached up and tugged his fingers through his hair. “Ah. Uhm. Uh…” He rubbed his hands over his face. “Why can’t I think of anything!?”
With a heavy breath, Shen Qingqiu pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nothing? Qinghua-shidi. Certainly there is something.”
“Telling me there’s something is not helping!” Shang Qinghua snapped. “I’m panicking!”
“Then don’t.”
“Telling me not to panic isn’t helping either!” Shang Qinghua shouted. “Fuck! Oh, um.” He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Why can I only think of sex things!?”
Liu Qingge turned his head away.
They were doomed.
Tianlang-Jun raised an eyebrow and laughed, “Oh ho?”
“Zhuzhi-Lang sometimes has two-” Shang Qinghua started. “Ah. Wait. Anyone can guess that because he’s part snake!”
They were all going to die.
Tianlang-Jun started laughing.
“You like being tied up?” Shang Qinghua squeaked.
Now the heavenly demon was laughing even harder. “My dear, most of the jianghu know that.”
“Fuck!” Shang Qinghua cried.
The Mobei prince leaned in, hand siding over Shang Qinghua’s neck. His thumb soothed up and down his pulse point. “A-Fei. Breathe.”
Shang Qinghua bobbed his head. He slowly melted into the Mobei prince’s touch. He let out a long breath, muttering to himself. Then he brightened. “Oh! Oh!” His eyes flickered to Tianlang-Jun. “When you first ran into Su Xiyan, it was a full moon on a cloudless night. The stars were bright. She stood alone on an abandoned road, with the moonlight haloing her. Even though you stood in the shadows where no human should see you, her eyes were drawn to you. Your first thoughts of her was that she was like a deer. Elegant and cautious. Captivating and beautiful. Unaware of the predator that lurked within the shadows. It wasn’t until you realized how much you had loved her, when you were trapped in the array, that you thought that you had it all wrong. That she was never prey, but the predator. And you were the prey who was hypnotized by her.” He paused to take in a deep breath. “But that wasn’t the case. You thought of her as the very moon that chased away all the darkness, untouchable and far from your grasp. But you were her sun. You chased away the cold when nothing else could. You gave her warmth. You taught her how to love even the simplest things. You taught her how to be happy. She loved you more than anything, and that’s why she did everything in her power to make sure Luo Binghe survived. Because even when you two were separated from this life, something, someone, born from that love will persist. No one was there to hear her last words, but she only asked for two things: for Luo Binghe to live and to meet you in the next life.”
The intensity of Tianlang-Jun’s gaze lessened. For the first time since they had all woken up, his face was wiped clean of any humor. He stared at Shang Qinghua for a long while before he nodded once. Then he said, “Well, Peak Lord Shang. It appears that I may be requesting more information from you about my Xiyan.”
“Oh.” Shang Qinghua laughed nervously. “That’s. Perfect. Great. Yay.”
“We can, of course, accommodate some more times for negotiations about receiving information from our seers at a later date,” Yue Qingyuan said, pleasantly.
The demon emperor hummed, as if considering if he truly wanted to “negotiate.”
“Tianlang-Jun,” Mu Qingfang said. “Now that everything has calmed down, now would be a good time to retreat to your accommodations with the sect leader so that I may treat my martial brothers.” He let go of his wrists. “Do not use that sword for the rest of the day at the very least. I will arrive for your treatment after.”
With a smile, Tianlang-Jun leaned into Mu Qingfang. He studied his expression. “You’re still not phased by me, are you?”
“If you think to continue to harass and threaten my martial brothers,” Mu Qingfang ignored that question, speaking evenly, “or even consider doing any harm to Qinghua-shixiong, this master will be very displeased and disappointed.” He said the last part as if it held the same gravity of a death sentence.
Tianlang-Jun treated it as such, pouting. “As long as they do not harm me or my nephew,” he agreed. Then he took Mu Qingfang’s hand and raised it to his lips as if he were to kiss it.
Nonplussed, Mu Qingfang jerked it from his grasp and flicked his forehead.
“Well,” the heavenly demon said, laughter coloring his voice, “nephew. Shall we?”
The snake demon stepped out from the shadows and turned to Shen Qingqiu. He bowed to him and said, “Master Shen, this one is pleased you are back to yourself.” Then he moved to follow his uncle out from the caverns.
Yue Qingyuan cast the room a glance and said, “This master will escort our esteemed guest back to his rooms. He will reconvene with you all later.” Then he moved to walk out after Tianlang-Jun.
As soon as the heavenly demons were gone, it felt as if the volatile air had finally settled. Liu Qingge sighed. If he were alone, he might have collapsed in a heap. He had too much pride to let his guard down in such a way. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shen Qingqiu looking like he, too, wished he had a little less pride and could just dissolve to the ground.
Only Shang Qinghua, who shared all their sentiments, was able to voice what everyone was undoubtedly thinking. “Well. That fucking sucked.”
“Mn.” The Mobei prince soothed a hand over Shang Qinghua’s hair, watching his face closely.
“‘A-Fei’ is it?” Mu Qingfang asked.
Shang Qinghua gulped. His widened eyes flickered over to Mu Qingfang. His ice demon growled possessively.
“Before we get into that,” Shen Qingqiu said, tiredly. “Does Mu-shidi care to enlighten us on how Tianlang-Jun was freed from Bailu Mountain?”
“Yeah, hold on. Before anything else…” Shang Qinghua said accusingly, pointing a finger at Mu Qingfang. “‘A-Fang!?’”