Chapter Text
“Shen Qingqiu. Come to Bai Zhan. We… We should spar.”
He just barely manages to get the words out, thick and heavy with intent.
It is bold and straightforward, but the Liu courting traditions have always been that way. It is simple— one that makes Liu Qingge immensely grateful. He doesn’t have to stumble through the odd and confusing courting traditions that many others do.
His mother had lectured him many times on the topic, and Liu Qingge is suddenly grateful that she had done so.
Invite them to spar, and prove your strength to them to show that you are capable of protecting them. Afterwards, provide them with food and drink to show that you care. Then, you will hunt for beasts and bring them gifts to show that you can provide for your family.
Shen Qingqiu looks up at him, confused.
“Are you sure, Liu-shidi?”
Of course he’s sure. Liu Qingge has wanted this, wanted him for long enough to know that he is making the right choice.
He is transfixed when Shen Qingqiu leans forward into his space and teases him with a smirk, when his sleeves slip down to expose smooth wrists. Shen Qingqiu’s demure glances enthrall Liu Qingge, and he feels the distinct urge to see more. He wants nothing more than for Shen Qingqiu to run his gentle hands through his hair, have his warm breath ghost his ear teasingly. Shen Qingqiu is endlessly fascinating, always exciting. He can’t imagine exposing his heart and sharing his life with anyone else.
Shen Qingqiu makes him feel alive.
“Yes.” He swallows around the lump in his throat. “I am sure.”
“Alright.” Shen Qingqiu flutters his fan. “Shall we go now?”
Liu Qingge almost chokes in disbelief. Not only did Shen Qingqiu accept, but he seems eager to begin their sparring match too.
“Not yet,” he says dazedly. He hadn’t prepared yet, wasn’t expecting Shen Qingqiu to be so willing. If he’s honest, he expected Shen Qingqiu to give him that sad little smile and reject him gently. “In a week.”
A week will give him enough time to find the tea that Shen Qingqiu favors, delicate snacks that will suit his taste. Osmanthus jelly, egg tart, snow cake. Flaky and sweet, cool and refreshing. No tanghulu though— Liu Qingge flushes. That incident had made him meditate under the stone cold waterfalls of Bai Zhan for a week.
It wouldn’t do for Shen Qingqiu to spar on the public fields on Bai Zhan. The ground is rough and uneven, not to mention the fact that his disciples would try and watch them. Rather, he will invite Shen Qingqiu to his private courtyard. He’ll grab a disciple or two to clear and clean it to an immaculate polish. The plum blossom trees are in bloom as well— the grounds must be swept of any fallen flowers, any rotting leaves and petals. The pavilion, never used, must shine too.
He will, he must do right by Shen Qingqiu. Liu Qingge will prove to Cang Qiong, to his family, to the world that Shen Qingqiu has chosen a man more than worthy of his affections.
Shen Qingqiu is grace personified, and Liu Qingge is reminded of it when Xiu Ya slices past his head, swift and precise.
Still, Shen Qingqiu looks unfazed. His elegant brow slightly furrows in concentration, and he commands Xiu Ya with a stunning clarity. Liu Qingge dodges another slice with a huff.
As expected of the Qing Jing Peak Lord.
However beautiful he may be, however sharp and deadly Xiu Ya is, this is a fight that Liu Qingge cannot lose. Should he be bested by Shen Qingqiu, then he would have failed the first step in their courtship. How could he bear to think himself worthy of Shen Qingqiu if he is defeated immediately?
When Liu Qingge finally concentrates again, Cheng Luan gleams against the smooth fabric of Shen Qingqiu’s robes. Shen Qingqiu looks unsurprised, and perhaps he had always known that Liu Qingge would beat him.
“I yield.” Shen Qingqiu sheathes Xiu Ya and instead flicks his fan open, huffing at his messy hair. Liu Qingge obligingly moves Cheng Luan away, and he is suddenly aware of just how disheveled Shen Qingqiu looks. He swallows and looks away as the Qing Jing Peak Lord tidies his appearance, once again becoming the picture of a calm and collected scholar.
“Go rest.” Liu Qingge nervously gestures to the pavilion. “I will bring refreshments.”
“Thank you, Liu-shidi. You treat this shixiong so well.” Shen Qingqiu gives him a grateful smile, and he can feel blood rush to his face. He turns away and stiffly begins the march to his house, firmly ignoring Shen Qingqiu’s amused chuckle behind him.
Shen Qingqiu smiles delightedly when Liu Qingge returns laden with tea and snacks, cheeks pink with gratitude.
“Oh! These are my favorites,” Shen Qingqiu says, clearly pleased. “So observant— as expected of my Liu-shidi!”
He grunts in embarrassment, and pours tea for them both. Shen Qingqiu sighs contentedly around a piece of snow cake, and Liu Qingge feels waves of affection pour over him. They sit in a comfortable silence, and Liu Qingge tries not to stare at the beautiful man eating in front of him.
“Thank you.” He looks down at his tea cup, gripping the brittle porcelain tight. He still is in shock, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Shen Qingqiu said yes, had granted him the honor of courting and wooing him. “For coming today.”
Shen Qingqiu had a week to think about it in depth, and yet he still came. Liu Qingge would have been disappointed, yes, but it was still his choice. He knows that Shen Qingqiu can have anyone he so desires. And yet, Shen Qingqiu had chosen him.
Shen Qingqiu hums lightly, and he puts down his teacup on the table. Liu Qingge looks up to Shen Qingqiu’s smile, one that is reserved for him. His breath catches, and for a moment, he is stunned.
“Not at all, Liu-shidi. Rather, I should be thanking you.”
Shen Qingqiu opens his fan, waving cool air towards himself. Liu Qingge feels like he has been tipped over, his world view tilted ever so slightly. With that simple sentence, Shen Qingqiu has brought his dreams, unspoken fantasies to life.
Of course Shen Qingqiu was at least interested in him, otherwise he would have said no. But his words suggest something different. Something more.
I should be thanking you.
Shen Qingqiu had waited for him to make the first move? The thought spirals in his mind. Perhaps Shen Qingqiu was too afraid of his reaction, not wanting to lose him if he said no. If Liu Qingge hadn’t asked him first, how long would they have continued to circle around each other, afraid to let their worlds collide? Would Shen Qingqiu eventually let go of that warmth, mistakenly believing that it was never meant to be?
He looks at Shen Qingqiu and wonders.
Does Shen Qingqiu also feel the heat licking beneath his skin like Liu Qingge? Does it spread like wildfire, raging red and all consuming? Or maybe Shen Qingqiu is as nervous as him, unsure of how to conduct himself just like he is. His fingers twitch, the urge to reach out ringing in his ears.
He picks up the teapot instead.