Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There were three things that Xin Mo could claim enjoyment in. 

The first was yin energy. 

It had no particular preference as to where such energy was harvested from. Only that it received large and continuous amounts of it, as much as it wanted. The flavor? Simply delightful! The chill and dampness of it also made it feel calmer, less restless and angry. 

The second was retribution. 

Its wielders were so stupid they didn't even bother to give it the yin energy it craved! Such audacity! How dare they! 

As such, they had to be punished and harshly at that. Xin Mo corrupted their sanity and picked at their heart demons until they lost their minds, succumbing to fits of bloodlust and chaos and deranged fits that often ended in massacres and the like. 

The third was its God. 

Its true Creator. The one who wove it together and placed its spirit within this mighty blade. If there was any being it loved, its God would be that. The only truly valid creature in any realm. 

And honestly, it never expected to actually see him, unless one of its wielders managed to figure out what realm its God lived within and took it there as a consequence. Which seemed unlikely, given how stupid its wielders were. 

But! 

But! 

There! 

He! 

Was! 

Shrouded in the humble guise of a frightened human, its God flitted about in the shadows of this fortress. Gold and white cloth under thick furs to conceal him from the frigid winds of the North. 

He seemed so tiny, particularly amidst the giants the demon realm seemed to produce in steady supply. So slight and slender. 

But he was all Xin Mo could focus on. 

Xin Mo started screaming. 

Well, a human may equate the noise it made to a scream or perhaps a rather high pitched and prolonged squeal. 

Its God. 

Came. 

To.

Visit. 

It. 

The wielder currently holding it aloft in one hand was nearly driven to his knees by the suddenness of it, his other hand rising to clutch at his temple with a gasp and gritted teeth, jaw muscles twitching in discomfort. 

The discomfort was so great in fact that, as it intensified further, the young man did fall to one knee, still cradling his head. A string of curses left his lips. 

"Are you dying," Mobei-Jun inquired blithely, not particularly concerned one way or another. If anything, he was a bit disappointed that they wouldn't be dueling to the death after all the trouble this up and comer had gone through to break into his fortress. 

"Is... is he qi deviating? He isn't supposed to-" The God shook his head, expression strange and more than a touch concerned. "No, that doesn't quite- well, perhaps because he's early? Could Xin Mo be giving him... trouble? Well, if he's in love with, ahem, yeah, no that could mean he hasn't. Like, at all. That would definitely. Definitely cause some issues... hmm. Really, but it's too early for-" 

Its God! Mentioned! It! By! Name! 

Xin Mo! 

He recognized Xin Mo! 

Xin Mo began to aggressively send over its desire to be next to the God. Right. NOW! HURRY UP!

Rather than respond to any query from his opponents, Luo Binghe lifted Xin Mo and slashed at air, the motion especially violent in his pain-induced rage, reappearing directly in front of the God. 

This got a reaction from Mobei-Jun. 

The God stumbled back, eyes wide and hands rising. "L-L-Luo-shizhi!" 

Luo Binghe forced himself to his full height, teeth clenched, and towered over him. "You." 

Xin Mo got the impression he was going to stab him, wildly misinterpreting everything! How dare he?! What a fool! 

If he harmed so much as a single hair on this vessel, drew a singular drop of celestial blood, it would KILL HIM! 

So it hopped right out of his grasp but not before saddling him with a migraine so severe it brought tears to his eyes, fingers spasming uselessly and having no choice but to drop its hilt. 

The God caught Xin Mo on reflex to keep it from smacking into his head as it fell, awkwardly clasping it between both hands and attempting not to slice open his palms on it. "Luo-shizhi?" 

His attention was quickly caught by the blade in his hands however. 

Particularly when it melted into a content little puddle, satisfied at last. Its God was holding it. All was right with the world. 

"Um," the God murmured, brows cinching together. 

Its God came to see it. It really was so happy. So lucky. 

Xin Mo impressed its sheer delight and adoration at him. So so happy. 

The God's expression remained strange and confused, cheeks pale, but his eyes grew softer. Terribly endeared. "Oh. Well, hello there, Xiao Bao. What a darling child you are." 

Xin Mo made a squee. 

Its God thought it was darling. 

Here, in the presence of something holy, with the touch of its God upon its blade, it had never felt more loved. Never felt love for something, someone like this before. 

"What the-" Luo Binghe managed to grit out. 

Xin Mo increased his migraine tenfold to get him to be quiet.

This was its time! With its God! Fuck off! He came to visit XIN MO! NOT YOU! SHUT IT!

"You're such a menace, Xiao Bao," the God remarked, but he didn't sound upset, merely fondly exasperated. 

Xin Mo purred as he rubbed at its blade with a sleeve, cleaning off some of the excess blood dripping off it. 

"But you do have to let your wielder fight my king. Okay?" 

NO! KEEP HOLDING XIN MO! THAT BRAT CAN DIE FOR ALL IT CARES! IN FACT, EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD COULD DIE! WHO CARED! NOT XIN MO! 

Then its God placed a kiss to a clean spot of the dark metal, and ah... fine. Fine. 

"That's a good sword. Hm? Be good for Baba now. Some destiny cannot be escaped, even with Cucumber Bro bending the Protagonist like a paperclip." 

Baba? Xin Mo got to call its God Baba? 

It let out a deep and rumbly purr. Baba. 

Very well. It would do this. For its God. For Baba. 

It released the migraine ravaging the insides of its foolish wielder's skull and allowed him to take it back in hand to go and duel the Northern king. 

Of course, the very moment after Luo Binghe prevailed and had Mobei-Jun accept him as his junshang, Xin Mo was back to pestering him to put it back with its God. 

Baba, Baba, I want to be with Baba. 

Luo Binghe followed its instruction, albeit very reluctantly and with great confusion, hovering near the God as he worked to patch up his king and glaring in silence. The fool didn't put it in Baba's arms, but Xin Mo could wait. Baba was busy. 

Being close was fine for now. 

Chapter Text

"Shang-shishu." 

Ah shit, getting singled out again? 

Shang Qinghua turned to face his boss's new boss, bending in an appropriately low bow. Even with the weather of the North, he was still sweating bullets under his clothes. Such a scary young man his Protagonist was becoming! 

And yeah, like, he expected that, wrote it that way, but still. Very intimidating to see in person! 

"Junshang. Might this lowly subordinate be of service?" Shang Qinghua inquired. 

"Yes," was all Luo Binghe said, falling silent after that for a disturbing amount of time. 

Shang Qinghua did his best not to move a single muscle as he waited impatiently for him to start talking again, remaining bent at the waist, arms extended in front of himself. The seconds ticked right on by. 

Then: 

"Here." 

Shang Qinghua almost lifted his head, convinced he was being handed something. And, as it would turn out, he was being handed something. Luo Binghe just shoved that something beneath his nose before he needed to move too far. 

A familiar hilt was placed under his face, obsidian black with ornate carvings. Shang Qinghua blinked, rising slowly and taking in how Luo Binghe was holding Xin Mo by its blade, fingers clamping down near its tip. 

"Junshang? Junshang would like this subordinate to... hold? His sword?" he asked, wanting to be crystal clear on this despite the obvious signs. 

Xin Mo may be reluctant to allow its wielder to harm him, but Luo Binghe could cause him agonies or even death without ever raising that sword. One should never underestimate the Protagonist. 

If for nothing else, Luo Binghe had to be swallowing back hurt pride over Xin Mo's actions earlier... he did seem angry still... just look how serene his face was! Definitely angry! 

"Shang-shishu will not get any ideas, will he?" Luo Binghe asked in turn, and Shang Qinghua had to choke back a laugh. 

As if! 

What ideas? Nope, no ideas here. 

He may not like having to watch his king get beat up like that and even perhaps initiating that beating by insisting Xin Mo help Luo Binghe, but it was a Plot point. The Protagonist subjugated the demon realm. It was just what he did. Had to happen. 

What, was he going to take this sword and stab it through Luo Binghe's back the second it was turned? 

Actually, with how Xin Mo was acting, it would probably encourage that behavior, but with that Golden Halo, either the Heavens would strike him down in some manner or the System would nuke him on the spot. Luo Binghe could not die. Assassination attempts were pointless. 

"No, Junshang. No ideas," Shang Qinghua insisted truthfully. 

Luo Binghe kept Xin Mo angled like that, and he had to grasp its hilt, nearly flinching at the abrupt wave that crashed over him. 

Baba! Baba! 

Such a shameless little kiddo! 

Although, to be fair, what should a sword spirit know of shame? What a silly concept. 

But seriously, all the warm and fuzzy feelings, these good vibes Xin Mo was sending his way? So intense! It was almost strong enough that Shang Qinghua could ignore the unblinking and menacing stare Luo Binghe was sending his way. 

He hadn't expected this sort of reaction, not at all, not this time or that other time, but what? Was he going to complain about it? 

Heck no! 

Look at this adorable little bastard. If it had cheeks to squish, you'd best believe Shang Qinghua would be squishing those cheeks half to death. 

All the nonverbal I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you's kind of made him feel like he was injecting a metric ton of serotonin, dopamine, whatever that feel good chemical was that made you feel real happy, right into his veins. 

That's what this felt like. 

It wasn't overwhelming or anything. Not really.

It was just. Hmm, like a bath at just the perfect temperature. But for his heart. 

What father did not want to feel the pure simple love of their child? 

Perhaps most fathers could not hope to feel it this literally, would have to content themselves with filial little actions or some physical affections. But most fathers did not make their children with typed words and a computer. 

And who had ever been this happy to see him?

This Xin Mo really was such a cinnamon roll! 

Well, don't get him wrong. It was definitely difficult to forget about this blade's darker inclinations when it was casually bullying the Protagonist left and right, but just look at it! All he had to do was touch it, and it started purring up a storm or making those little squealing sounds, absolutely delighted. 

And the Baba's. Plenty of Baba's! Xin Mo loved the Baba's. 

Shang Qinghua loved the Baba's as well. 

No, Xiao Bao was absolutely the correct nickname for this sweet child of his. Such a cutie! The cutest! 

His lips curled into an involuntary smile, unbearably fond. "Hello, Xiao Bao." 

His fingers tightened their grip, and he shifted the angle of the blade as Luo Binghe released it. Xin Mo was even more beautiful than he imagined it would be. Those fanart interpretations drawn up couldn't do it justice at all. 

The way the crimson detailing popped against the black? So perfect. 

"Such a deadly child. So handsome." 

His other hand came up to touch over the bare blade, fingers rubbing against the smooth metal. With all this purring and squeaking, it couldn't help but remind him of a kitten. 

"That's right, that's right. Baba loves Xiao Bao too," Shang Qinghua assured it. 

His head cocked as he registered another impression, brushing up against his mind alongside all that affection. 

Oh! 

Oh no, too cute. 

"Xiao Bao wants a kiss from Baba?" Shang Qinghua asked, and he got an excited affirmative pressed back at him. "Hmm... okay!" 

He pressed his lips to a space on the blade that overlapped with both red and black. Thankfully Luo Binghe had wiped all that gore off, so it didn't taste all gross and dirty his face. Anything metallic he smelled was all Xin Mo. 

Baba, more! More! Baba! 

Cinnamon. Roll. 

So eager! So sweet! 

He just had to give it another kiss. 

Babaaaaaa. More! 

Well... 

Maybe just one more. "Yes, Baba loves you. What a lovely child. Yes, Xiao Bao is." 

And maybe just one more. But this was definitely the last one! It just sounded too darling when it made that squeaky little squee! Don't blame this Baba for wanting to indulge it a little! 

Luo Binghe was staring at the wall now, looking very much like he was regretting some life choices. Or possibly plotting this shishu's murder. 

Hopefully the former. 

Shang Qinghua caved and gave his Xiao Bao another kiss. Which was totally the last. Yep. Definitely. 

He patted over the smooth metal some more. Xin Mo's answering purr was aggressive in its sheer enthusiasm. 

Chapter Text

There were several occasions that Luo Binghe felt wrongfooted whilst traveling the demon realm and conquering clan after clan. 

For example, one had to be explicit, as it would turn out, that they were not in fact intending on a marriage when they set out to beat a person near to death. If you simply walked up to someone and began to attack them so fiercely, no explanation, there was room for interpretation. 

Particularly if you yourself were a person with demon blood as well. 

After the second time that random servants attempted to cajole him into wedding robes the evening following his subjugation of their lord or lady of that region, Meng Mo finally gave him some context. (The elder approved of this potential harem personally, much to Luo Binghe's distaste.) 

In any event, Luo Binghe found it best to walk into whatever castle or stronghold, loudly declare he was ONLY THERE FOR THE LAND AND AUTHORITY as he intended to be emperor, and then begin fighting in earnest. Cleared up any potential misunderstandings. 

Another example? 

He found he had to clarify that no, he was not actually a cannibal, don't serve him any dishes with human meats. (The first and only time this happened, he ended up having the replace the kitchen staff of that fortress, as he had beheaded them all that very night after he vomited up the contents of his stomach.) 

This latest thing... in a way, it was less pressing than some of his other instances of confusion in this foreign land. 

It was not abhorrent in nature, something vile and repugnant that would leave a stain on his mind for weeks. It was merely. 

Odd.

Very odd. 

Too odd even. 

In fact, Luo Binghe might even go so far as to state that he had never felt this awkward in his entire life. Which was truly saying something, given how many times he had to attempt to hide the, ahem, issues with his pillar that arose on occasion (or perhaps more often than he'd like to admit) when he was tending to his shizun what seemed like an eternity ago now. 

(Once, he had tossed himself into a nearby pond in his haste to conceal such an issue, and Shizun only bemoaned his clumsiness, helping him out when he resurfaced.) 

His sword. 

Would not. 

Stop. 

Calling. 

That man. 

BABA. 

Xin Mo had not really said anything at first, only expressing extreme interest in Shang Qinghua when it noticed he was there via intolerable and painful screeching and mental impressions of him him him NOW. Which Luo Binghe naturally assumed meant it wanted him dead. 

That traitorous martial uncle hardly seemed the most prevalent threat at the moment when he had Mobei-Jun in the same space, but if it was going to throw this much of a fit over him, fine. WHATEVER. He could kill him first. Calm down. 

Only Xin Mo did not want him dead. It only wanted him to hold it. Which? What?! 

If Shang Qinghua had not looked so earnestly confused and terrified himself, Luo Binghe would be certain he was doing something. Something to make Xin Mo react like this, in a way it never had before. But he looked just as lost as him. 

Only that didn't stop him from calling Xin Mo a little bun and himself its Baba, which made the sword even more of a nuisance than before. 

ALL it would refer to him as from then on was Baba. 

Baba, Baba, put me with Baba, you dumb brat! 

And that shameless shishu was just going around. Kissing Xin Mo. Wherever, whenever. Like that was a perfectly normal thing to do with a sword. Like it was actually a small human child that wanted kisses from its parent. 

Luo Binghe had to concede, however reluctantly, that such kisses and attention did make Xin Mo very happy. 

Too happy even. 

All this purring and squealing was disturbing frankly. He wasn't sure he liked it. 

Especially since that, if he stood too close to those two, he could feel how content and happy the sword spirit was. He was not content or happy these days. It made him feel... strangely. Very strangely. 

But... if even a sword spirit like Xin Mo could be capable of love in this capacity... perhaps... one day Shizun may understand that he loved him? That even this filthy demon could be... could be good? Good enough to remain by his side? 

"Oh, is Xiao Bao giving you another migraine? Strange, you aren't even... hmm. Xiao Bao, don't be like that. He's not even doing anything. If you're a good little sword, Baba will give you a kiss. Junshang needs to rest up before he does some more conquering." 

Luo Binghe's head felt fine actually. What was he-? 

Oh. 

He was crying a bit actually. That was. Embarrassing. 

When Shang Qinghua wandered off and returned with some water, Luo Binghe drank it without really thinking about it. The first cup, then the next. 

His martial uncle looked concerned still, brows pulling together as he held out a kerchief. For those ridiculous tears. "Junshang... pardon this subordinate for being presumptuous, but would you like a hug?" 

"A hug," Luo Binghe repeated, expression blank. From him? 

Shang Qinghua only nodded. Xin Mo's soft purr cut off abruptly and roared into a venomous growl in Luo Binghe's head. 

HE'S MINE. FUCK OFF. MY BABA. NOT YOURS. MINE! MINE! MINE! BACK OFF, STUPID LITTLE SHIT.

This situation was absurd enough that Luo Binghe had to laugh. Seriously, what was going on with that sword? 

Shang Qinghua's expression crumpled slightly before falling back into a polite mask, head inclining. "Of course, Junshang. It was naught but a foolish suggestion. Please forgive this one for his boldness." 

Xin Mo rewarded Luo Binghe with another stab inside his skull, despite the fact he had all but refused that offer. Such a bastard. 

No making Baba sad. Fucking bitch. 

Was it serious-?! 

What the fuck did it want him to do in this scenario? Huh?! 

Maybe laughing right then was rude, but if he accepted that, Xin Mo would only grow angrier, he'd imagine.

Besides, in all honesty, he did not want to accept that hug anyway. Shang Qinghua was not Shizun. He was only feeling so strangely around him because Xin Mo wouldn't be quiet enough that its emotions stopped spilling over onto him. Subjecting him to all this secondhand calmness and joy and love. 

Why would Shang Qinghua want to hug him in the first place? What was wrong with him? 

WHY WAS HE GOING AROUND, KISSING SWORDS? WHO DID THAT?! 

"This junshang is going to lie down. Don't get any ideas," Luo Binghe said, turning on his heel to do just that. 

"Understood, Junshang." 

"Why are you following me?" 

"Oh... this subordinate assumed that Junshang would not prefer Xin Mo be out of his sight. As it has not been in previous shichen. Is that. Is that incorrect?" 

See, not only was this situation absurd, it was also inconvenient. 

Luo Binghe massaged his temple with two fingers. Absolutely ridiculous. Was this really his life now? 

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu nearly had a fucking heart attack when the air in front of him started glowing red, splitting open, and making way for a black and red blade that truly could be nothing other than Xin Mo. 

OH GOD, HOW WAS THE PROTAGONIST THIS EARLY? 

DID HE JUST SKIP TAKING OVER THE DEMON REALM TO GET REVENGE ON THIS SHITTY TEACHER?!

FUCK! FUCK, HE WAS SO DEAD!!!!!!

Then he registered the angle the blade was being held at, which was definitely wrong for the height Luo Binghe should have been at this age. Even the height he had been at prior to being shoved into the Endless Abyss. He hadn't been this short since he was fourteen. Binghe was a tall boy. 

He dared to glance further than Xin Mo's gleaming blade, following the deadly length of it to a hand that was also a bit smaller than it ought to be. 

"Yo, Cucumber Bro, chill. Take some nice deep breaths, okay? Don't pass out on me. It's just little ole me. Nothing to worry about." 

And. 

He. Just. What!

"Airplane?" Shen Qingqiu breathed, not really believing his eyes at this point. 

His fellow transmigrator winked at him, waltzing through the portal, still dressed like he had gone off for some sneaky demon spy shit. The air stitched up behind him, closing the portal and leaving not even a trace of red behind. 

"S'up," Shang Qinghua said, just. CASUALLY HOLDING XIN MO STILL, THE ABSOLUTE FUCK. 

Was he having a stroke? Was his Without A Cure acting up and giving him hallucinations now? 

Shen Qingqiu stared wordlessly at him as Shang Qinghua strolled closer and gave him a pat on the shoulder, expression growing concerned. 

"You good?" 

"Am I? Am I good? Bro! What are you doing?" Shen Qingqiu demanded. 

"Babysitting," Shang Qinghua supplied. 

Babysitting?! 

Shang Qinghua's head cocked. "Actually no, that's not quite accurate... it's not babysitting when it's your own kid, right? Nah, let's call it father-child bonding time." 

Shen Qingqiu placed a hand on his shoulder. "Airplane Bro, if you don't explain why you have the Protagonist's trump weapon in about five seconds, I will pull out all your teeth and make you wear them as bracelets. You're stressing me out." 

"That's. That's a weirdly specific threat. Like, why bracelets, not a necklace?" Shang Qinghua remarked. "Also, love you too, Bro. Glad to see you out of your depression nest. Good for you." 

"Shang Qinghua." 

"Sheesh, calm your tits, straight boy. It's like you've never seen a father out with his baby before," Shang Qinghua sighed, shaking his head and glancing at Xin Mo like they were commiserating. "Your Cucumber-shushu is so dramatic, yeah?" 

Xin Mo vibrated a little in response. Which, uh. Seemed more menacing than cute, but Shang Qinghua had the same look on his face a person should have when they're watching a puppy roll over when they snapped their fingers. 

Just all proud and like awww, look at the wittle baby go. 

"That's a parasitic nightmare sword, not a baby," Shen Qingqiu refuted. Like, it would be really cool to study it and its fascinating properties, but he wasn't about to start cooing at it. 

Fanboying over it? 

...maybe. Xin Mo was actually really fricking cool, especially when it was in an environment he could appreciate it in without any worries of abductions. Or limb removal. 

But it was not a baby! Or some cute little animal. Stop being weird, Airplane!

Shang Qinghua gasped, free hand rising to his chest in faux offense. Then he started cackling, breaking character. "Bro, most of my children are nightmare creatures. Just absolutely terrifying monsters!" 

This was going nowhere. "Why is Xin Mo in your possession? What happened to Binghe? Did you steal it? Are you crazy?" 

How wasn't this idiot dead yet, pulling nonsense like this?! 

"Okay, rude. I did not steal my precious Xiao Bao," Shang Qinghua protested, and.

Was he petting it like a cat?! 

"Xiao Bao. Airplane, no." Why, Airplane. Just. WHY. 

"Airplane, yes," Shang Qinghua countered. "And you've called my son much more cutesy nicknames than that, don't you even dare. Like. Literally dozens, omg." 

"I have not-" 

"Have. Fucking. Too!" 

"That's. He was a pure little sheep before- just, that's not even-" 

"I rest my case! And really, I just borrowed Xin Mo. Did Luo Binghe give me explicit permission to use this sword... okay, no, no he did not. I actually cannot stay that long, or else he'll definitely wake up and be hella pissed, for sure. Only a little show and tell tonight. But he did tell me I could hold it earlier. Ordered me to. I've been holding it for, like, hours and stuff. Just carrying it around. Hanging out with my baby bun." 

Since no one else was in this uncharted area of forestland, Shen Qingqiu allowed himself the liberty of a face palm in the most literal sense. 

"So he is speedrunning things... shit." If he already conquered the Northern Wastelands. That was. No, not ideal at all. The plant body was never going to be ready in time. 

Airplane had mentioned that he was- with some others- but- so soon... fuck. Just. Fuck. 

Oh, his human stickery was so close, he could taste it. Or maybe that was the bile from all the nausea. Semantics. 

"Oh, just, full blast, yeah. Little dude is motivated as heck," Shang Qinghua agreed. "At this rate, he could probably have all the clan heads bend the knee before the year is out. How long do you wanna bet it'll take before he has those Huan Hua guys eating out of the palm of his hand? My money's on ten months. Thoughts?" 

"Bro. The sword?" Shen Qingqiu reminded him, waving a hand at Xin Mo. The elephant in the room. 

"My bad, Bro. My bad. You know- it may actually be easier to show than tell. Here, come closer," Shang Qinghua insisted, taking a step himself. 

Shen Qingqiu stepped closer, brows drawing down. Shang Qinghua gestured for him to lift his hand, and he did, hesitantly curling his fingers around the area of the hilt that the other man's hand didn't cover. 

"No, go on, touch it. It's cool. Just watch." 

"Watch what-" Shen Qingqiu cut himself off as Shang Qinghua leaned forward and kissed Xin Mo. Right on the blade. "Airplane! What the hell!" 

His exclamation was honestly more out of surprise than anything else, as the moment his lips touched metal, it. Oh God. Wow. 

Shang Qinghua nuzzled his cheek against the bare blade, and by some miracle, didn't slice his dumb face open. "What did I tell you, Bro? Baby! So baby. A cinnamon roll. My child is so adorable!" 

"Cone of silence?" Shen Qingqiu suggested. 

"Cone of silence," Shang Qinghua agreed solemnly. 

"... even I want you to kiss me now. Or maybe, like, to kiss you? A little?" Then Shen Qingqiu coughed, ears burning. "Like. Platonically. It's. It's definitely all Xin Mo, but." 

It was intriguing, how the sword was radiating such affection. That he could not deny. 

Shang Qinghua had a shit eating grin on his face. "Aww. Want Airplane-dage to kiss his baby bro? Bro, come over here. That's an easy fix!" 

"Oh, shut up, old man." Shen Qingqiu started to take his hand off the hilt because, presumably, that would stop those feelings right away. 

They both froze at a fearsome growl. 

Shang Qinghua shook off his shock and then chuckled. "Xiao Bao, don't be jealous." 

Shen Qingqiu frowned, uncurling his fingers. The urge to get closer to Shang Qinghua faded as swiftly as he expected. "It really isn't supposed to react like that. Like, to anyone." 

"It really isn't, but it sure does love its Baba. Don't you, Xiao Bao? Little cutie. A greedy little cutie," Shang Qinghua crooned. Then he grew serious again, reaching over to clap Shen Qingqiu on the shoulder. "So anyway, see, Backup Plan the Second. If shit goes hella south, me and Xin Mo over here will just pop you over to another dimension or something. No biggie. I'll have to come with because the Protagonist would absolutely find out it was me and shred me to bits. Cool? Cool. We'll be roommates or something, just you, me, and my parasitic sword baby." 

"... thank you." He did really mean that. 

Shang Qinghua just gave his shoulder a squeeze, nodding. 

Wait. 

"How did you figure this out? The kissing thing? Did you go up to Xin Mo and kiss it?" 

"Weeeeell, I mean, sorta? Binghe almost shanked me first. It's- well, actually, not- it's not a long story at all. Let me just-" 

"Because you were trying to kiss his sword? That's not unreasonable. Did you get cursed or something? Possessed? Just have a death wish?" 

"Oi. I was just vibing in the corner, minding my own business and letting my king do his thing, he came up to me! Don't get it twisted!" 

Chapter Text

When its God angled it with purpose and grinned mischievously, placing a finger to his lips, Xin Mo saw no reason to give him trouble. Why should it? 

It loved him, its Baba. Its God. Its Creator. 

Xin Mo would part any reality and deliver its God wherever he desired. Anywhere at all. No hesitation. No explanation needed. 

Really, it was more irritated than anything else that they eventually returned to that wielder. The fool. 

Slicing space in twain and letting the God playfully jump through portal after portal, occasionally launching sideways or falling into a new one, was a joy like no other. Its God saw fit to play with it! Xin Mo! 

There was no honor greater. No pleasure greater. 

"My child is so talented! So OP," he had remarked at one point. 

Xin Mo didn't quite understand what that entailed, but it would take any compliment Baba gave it. If he said it was OP, it was OP. And talented? Well, obviously. That was how Baba wanted it. 

It impressed more of its appreciation and love at Baba, wanting him to feel just how happy it was that he had come to see it. Come to hold it and play with it. How it loved him. 

How he loved it. 

"You know, I've never had a child of mine love me like you before, Xiao Bao. Some of them respect me or even like me a bit, like those An Ding kiddos, but they've never loved me like you. What did Baba do to earn such affection?" 

Xin Mo didn't have an explanation for this. Not in a way that could be explained with words. 

Instead, it summoned that pure and simplistic pride and satisfaction it recalled from its earliest memory, when it was first formed, those impressions it had retained from its God before being placed within this metal body. It was the first and only time it felt such a thing outside the presence of its God. 

All its stupid wielders had such lust and darkness in them, a craving for power. Any pride they had in Xin Mo was not the same. Not like its Baba's. 

Xin Mo pushed that same pride-memory at Baba, hoping that would suffice. 

You made me you love me I love you you're proud of me I love you...

"Oh." The tears that formed in Baba's eyes were happy things, happy things even with the ache in his chest. "Oh, Xiao Bao... you really are too sweet. I... I haven't felt... I can't believe you remember that. You really do... did? You... I'm just... Baba isn't a God here. Not like before. It's different now. I. I couldn't really explain it. It's. Complicated." 

Why should Xin Mo care about that? 

Baba is Baba. Who cares how weak Baba is like this, wearing this face, residing in this vessel? Not Xin Mo. Xin Mo would just kill anyone who dared to look at him wrong. And probably anyone who tried to steal his kisses from Xin Mo. Only Xin Mo deserved such kisses. 

See? Xin Mo loved him the most. Baba was its God, its Baba. No one else's. 

That suited it just fine. 

Xin Mo was the best child.

Xin Mo loved Baba.

Baba loved Xin Mo.

No problems here. 

This time when Baba placed kisses over Xin Mo's blade, it was bathed by the salty fluid of his tears. Xin Mo possessed no true capacity for empathy, not in the sense that it would ever really care about anyone like a mortal could, but, as it mentioned previously, Baba was the only valid creature in any realm. 

Baba should not be sad. 

"Baba isn't sad. It's okay, Xiao Bao. Baba is just overwhelmed. That's all. Such a sweetheart, my darling child. Of course you'd be so galaxy brained. I really made you too OP." 

Well. Good. Baba should not be sad. 

Xin Mo pushed more of its love and appreciation at Baba. Xin Mo loves Baba. Xiao Bao loves Baba.  

"I love you, too. Such a lovely child. I don't deserve you." 

The human was running around the courtyard, making these little schwooooom noises as he "parried" the light taps from his own spiritual weapon, blows that only glanced against the blade in his hand, no true force behind them. 

Yu Dian swerved off, glowing white, before returning to smack at Xin Mo again.

Shang Qinghua looked like he was having the time of his life. 

Mobei-Jun had exactly zero questions about this development. 

Shang Qinghua was Shang Qinghua. Inexplicable was simply... him. 

He was often going around, collecting ancient treasures and scrolls since lost to the ages in his king's name or thwarting some enemy of the North that hadn't come to anyone else's attention first. His job requirements had only ever truly been reporting on the inner workings and safety measures of his Cang Qiong Mountain Sect (and patching Mobei-Jun up on occasion as necessary), but this human liked to go above and beyond. 

No need to ask. 

So naturally, of course Mobei-Jun considered him as his advisor. Of course he let him go and order other servants around as he liked. Of course there was no need to ask why when he began doing something that didn't entirely make sense. 

Mobei-Jun did not trust a single person in the world other than Shang Qinghua. There were none who were reliable like he. None so loyal as he. 

He may not understand it, much of the time, what he was getting up to. But he did not need to. Shang Qinghua had things handled. There was no doubt in his mind about that. There were none as competent as his human. 

His human, with his smile, dazzling like the first rays of sunlight against fresh snowfall and equally as blinding. His human, with those little crinkles at the edges of his eyes and cheeks gone rosy with the chill of the morning. His human, with bits of spun gold hanging around his face, brown strands turned bright where they caught light.

"My king! You're awake! This one is so glad. How are your wounds?" 

"Fine," Mobei-Jun stated. He would live. 

"Good, good." Shang Qinghua let the dark blade rest against his shoulder, the majority of its massive length jutting behind his head. The other weapon continued to trail about in the air, suspended and making lazy circles, unbothered by this interruption. "Shall this subordinate change his king's dressings?" 

"No need," Mobei-Jun explained. That had been handled by a healer earlier. "Junshang had you in his room last night." 

He could admit that was displeasing to hear. 

(What if Shang Qinghua found this new superior more suitable for the role of husband? Luo Binghe had beaten him in a duel and viciously at that, demonstrating his prowess in battle sufficiently. Mobei-Jun could handle some competition for this human's affections, but that didn't mean he had to like it.) 

"Oh!" Shang Qinghua laughed a little, shaking his head. "Yes, Junshang did. It was more of the same, really. Just looking after this darling child," he said, lifting his free hand to pat the flat of Xin Mo's blade with a grin. Then his expression grew sympathetic. "Got to be weird for that kid, though. Ahem, Junshang, I mean. Can't blame him for wanting to keep an eye on this. It'd be a lot stranger if he was fine with it right off the bat. Speaking of-" 

Shang Qinghua turned and waved at one of the windows overlooking the courtyard, the wave melding into a thumbs up. 

Luo Binghe kept eating whatever was in his bowl and glaring silently, not reacting otherwise. 

Shang Qinghua turned back to him. 

"Did you desire a spar," Mobei-Jun inquired. 

He could summon some black ice swords if that was the case. Or kick some guards in his direction. 

"No, the kids are just getting acquainted, having a little playdate," Shang Qinghua explained. "I cannot decide which should be the elder sibling in this situation however... should it be Xin Mo? It is older, like definitely, yeah, in the sense of how time functions chronologically, but my trusty Yu Dian has been with me physically longer... does my king have any words of wisdom to weigh in?" 

Mobei-Jun just pointed at Yu Dian. He liked it more. Felt more like Shang Qinghua. 

"Ah, thank you, my king. No, Xiao Bao would probably love that. It really likes being babied. Got that, Yu Dian? Be a good big sibling to Xiao Bao now, okay?" Shang Qinghua said, nodding at the floating sword. 

Yu Dian only floated a little closer, and Shang Qinghua smiled, seeming satisfied. 

Then he lifted Xin Mo from his shoulder to give it a kiss. 

"Do you like being the baby, Xiao Bao? For Baba?" 

Xin Mo vibrated almost violently. 

"Yes, you doooo. Such a good baby bun!" 

If Shang Qinghua were not prone to randomly spouting some of the most insane things he had ever heard in his life, Mobei-Jun might have found this strange. But Shang Qinghua was Shang Qinghua. 

As such, he merely observed as Shang Qinghua started petting the sword with a giddy little grin and shamelessly cooing more nonsense, heedless of his audience. 

Chapter Text

Who was depressed? 

Hahaha, not Shen Qingqiu! That's ridiculous! 

Sure, he was plagued with existential dread and crippling guilt, but he was a millennial. That shit was easy to lock away in a mental box and ignore until he was randomly smacked with it at three a.m. and driven to another fit of insomnia. 

This was nothing! 

Could a depressed person make a mug this flawless! He thought not! 

Fuck you, Airplane Bro! 

You're depressed! Shitty author! 

Who has a depression nest?! Fuck off! His house is clean as hell! No one has a tidier room than him! Unlike that hurricane disaster zone you call an office! What managing system even is that! How do you find anything! 

And-! Oh, why was he making a mug? 

Well, that's just what you did when your friend got a new baby. You got them a dumb World's Best Dad mug or a T shirt or an apron or some shit. And maybe they weren't like, friends friends, more like frenemies with benefits. 

The benefits being not letting a bro from the same "hometown" die a horrifying death when they can maybe put their heads together to prevent that. Obviously. 

Shen Qingqiu definitely had people he liked more than Shang Qinghua. Like Liu Qingge. Such good company, that shidi. 

But he couldn't talk about things like Luo Binghe's return with Liu Qingge. No, no. Or things he missed from before... 

Even things like shitty ass mugs with overused labels. 

Shen Qingqiu was, of course, fucking with him. 

As he had made it perfectly clear on multiple occasions just how shitty he thought his "parenting" skills were: like, seriously, why create so many interesting and cool characters with complex backstories and awesome powers only to just- you know what, not the point! 

Today, he was actually in a mostly good mood. Which was a rarity, now that his precious white lotus was gone, subjected to a hell by this scummy useless teacher's hand. (And even when Binghe returned... things just wouldn't be the same. His cute sticky little disciple was dead. He killed that sweet boy. The blackened angry young man that wore his face now would have no mercy in his heart for him... and he didn't truly deserve it, no...) 

But today! 

Was one of the better days! 

So he was making the most of it. 

Backup Plan the Second, as Airplane Bro had so eloquently dubbed it, was a fairly solid one, provided that the elder transmigrator did not get himself murdered doing something stupid beforehand.

(Shen Qingqiu wasn't entirely convinced that wasn't a possibility, given how Shang Qinghua had decided it was a good idea to, mere seconds after getting Xin Mo in his hands, right in front of its pissed off and doubtlessly humiliated wielder nonetheless, to just start giving Xin Mo little kissies. Like, Bro. What's going on in that head of yours?) 

(However he would concede, however reluctantly, that Shang Qinghua had managed not to get offed doing whatever crackhead bullshit it was he did on a daily basis all these decades, so maybe. Just maybe. Things would turn out okay? He'd like to believe that actually.) 

(He was choosing to believe that. For the sake of his own sanity.) 

As such: mug. 

The words were written in English naturally. Because that made the inside joke more inside jokey. 

Poor Liu-shidi looked lost when he caught him painstakingly painting on the cursive letters with a brush. 

"It's for the baby," Shen Qingqiu explained, eyes down on his little project and thusly not registering the way Liu Qingge's expression went through about seventeen different phases before settling on resignation. 

"Baby," Liu Qingge repeated. "For the manyue celebration?" 

"Hmm? Oh, no, that baby is much too old for that," Shen Qingqiu answered absently, flicking his wrist to get the curl on the D just so. 

Liu Qingge stared blankly at the wall. "I see." 

Shang Qinghua wasn't sure why their War God was looking like he was dying a little inside when he passed him by today, but let's be real.

It was probably Cucumber Bro's fault somehow. 

His favorite hater was just driving that poor boy up the wall. Absolutely none of his interest had registered in that Shen Qingqiu's head. Denser than a wall of solid concrete, that one. A true pity for all those unfortunate sons of his pining after his oblivious internet troll ass. 

Shang Qinghua would comment on that more, but Shen Qingqiu was soooooo sure he was the straightest man alive that. It really wasn't worth it. He had other things to complain about. 

(Not that he would cease his judgmental stares any time soon when this idiot completely misread blatant social cues or said something so gay it was a miracle he hadn't worked out he was at least bi curious. A full fledged bi even. Pan. Something, like damn, no one commented on how pretty other men were like that if they weren't into them, even offhandedly. It wasn't even like these guys were demons or something, just human! What potential cultural differences are there to misread? How are you not clocking on this shit, my guy?) 

No, Mr. "My Cucumber is Only For the Ladies" could figure out his sexuality on his own damn time. Shang Qinghua had better things to do than to try and nudge him out of the closet. Like run his Peak. Or handle some issue in the North. 

Or, you know, hang out with his adorable evil sword child. 

But not today... no, his son had to go do some more leveling up and whatnot. (Xin Mo had not been pleased about that, but with a couple pats and promised kisses, it allowed Luo Binghe to go off with it for whatever Junshang business he was getting up to.) Busy boy. 

Speaking of busy boys. 

"Bro! Omg, you made me a gift store dad mug?" Shang Qinghua was actually touched. See, he knew his bro was a tsundere at heart. Just all soft and gooey once you waded past all the incessant bitchiness. Shang Qinghua dramatically wiped away an imaginary tear and sniffed. "I love it." 

"Look inside." 

Well, okay. Sure. 

Shang Qinghua glanced inside. 

It took him a moment to parse out the words at the bottom of the mug, as his English was rustier than a nail left out in the rain and then tossed into a swamp. Also, he'd never honestly been super fluent in it. Cucumber Bro's complaints of his Chinglish being near incomprehensible at times were probably accurate. 

"Oh no... time... to... go out for... more... mick? Who's Mick?" 

"Milk," Shen Qingqiu amended. "The milk thing. Come on." 

"That's an L? You sure?" 

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm the one who wrote it." 

Milk? What milk thing...? 

That ...

... oh! 

No, of course his bro would make it a backhanded compliment. Call him a deadbeat. Made sense. 

But guess what? Just like in their other life, this author was really the one getting the last laugh. 

Because guess who paid for his bills? That's fucking right. Engagement was engagement, even if he claimed to hate his story to the very depths of his soul seven thousand different ways. 

Shang Qinghua didn't have proof, but he would bet his left foot that Cucumber Bro was the sort to buy all sorts of merch too, particularly Binghe's. Just seemed the type of anti-fan to do that. 

And here? Well, who had a mug now, bitch? With a handle and everything? 

His bro went out of his way to make him a fucking cutesy little dad mug. Took time out of his day and everything. What a little freak. He even painted little itty bitty Xin Mo's around the rim of the mug. So extra!

Even when he was fucking with him, he put in so much effort. 

Shang Qinghua grinned, showing teeth. "You're cute." 

Shen Qingqiu seemed a little surprised at the sincerity in his voice, though that surprise quickly morphed into another grumpy stare that was unfortunately undercut by the flush that started to rise on his cheeks. 

"Piece of shit hack author." 

Tsun. Dere. 

"Cunt," Shang Qinghua retorted blithely, amused as he went to place his special new dad mug on his shelf, angling it, so he would have a good view of its World's Best Dad label from his desk. 

Shen Qingqiu continued to grandstand about how this was not cute at all, how dare he, he was a grown man, and blah blah blah blah. 

Kids in their twenties really were so easy to rile up. It was hilarious. All he had to do was poke at Cucumber Bro a little, and he went off on a three hour tangent. Which could be exhausting on the wrong day, but he was in a good mood. Slept enough last night. Still on a happy feelings high from all that contact with his Xiao Bao. 

So he just found it funny as shit. 

Chapter Text

Some days, Luo Binghe missed Zheng Yang more than anything else. (Well, more than anything else: Shizun, of course, was a person, and therefore, fell into another category entirely, a someone, never a something.) 

Zheng Yang was so much simpler to understand.

Simple to use and train with, dependable, reliable. 

Zheng Yang would never have started embarrassing him like this, turning to a purring mess any time this one other person came into the room. Not even its wielder, just some other man. It would not have thrown a fit over how he acted or afflicted him with migraine after migraine if he "misbehaved". 

Some days, Luo Binghe wanted to take his priceless ancient weapon, bind it with enough suppressing talismans that even it should not be capable of movement or further mischief, and hurl it into the nearest volcano. 

Was this ungrateful of him? Possibly. Xin Mo had been quite useful in this latest undertaking of his. It had even delivered him from the Endless Abyss. 

Would lava even consume that blade properly? That, he didn't know. It seemed to be capable of withstanding quite a bit, and with his luck, it would only infuriate Xin Mo more, such callous treatment. 

But Xin Mo was. So. Annoying. 

Zheng Yang never would have acted this absurd. 

Baba kisses Xin Mo even when he isn't here. That's how much he loves Xin Mo. Smugness radiated off the sword, permeating Luo Binghe's mounting irritation at this new mention of Baba. 

Shang Qinghua. 

What, Luo Binghe demanded, dodging the massive ax swung at his neck. The air sang, sliced viciously by steel and oppressive demonic qi. 

The earth split apart, rumbling with evidence of their fierce battle. Luo Binghe launched up, and their deadly dance persisted. 

Rather than replying with anything comprehensible, it was only natural that Xin Mo gave him this idiotic sequence of words: 

The melon fool made chibis on pottery for Baba... perhaps he can live... FOR NOW. 

Qi bi...? What? 

Always the murder with you, isn't it. What, did another demon get on your nerves? This melon person? 

Xin Mo merely impressed its disdain at him, disgusted yet again by his inability to parse out exactly what it meant with no actual context.

Yes, how helpful. 

The downward arc of arm and blade was so harsh, it actually tore Ganhan-Jun's arm from his body, slicing off a good portion of his shoulder off as well. Luo Binghe continued to press forth, giving his opponent no quarter. 

To Xin Mo, Shang Qinghua felt like rays of sunlight, welcoming in their warmth and brightening up one's day immensely. Whenever he appeared, Luo Binghe was hit with a backwash of heat, this exquisite glow of pure and unbridled joy. 

Xin Mo truly was such a strange sword... 

Taking such earnest pleasure in one human's company from the first moment it noticed him. And this pleasure had not diminished as time progressed, oh no. If anything, Xin Mo got more unbearable about it. 

"Shang-shishu." 

"Ah, good morning, Luo-shizhi! Junshang! Did your eminence sleep well last night?" Baba asked, smiling. Shang Qinghua. 

Fuck. 

Luo Binghe resisted the urge to rub at his eyes and sat up, staring in silence for several moments as that martial uncle set the table with a variety of human breakfast dishes. He resolutely ignored the urge to smile back. He wasn't the one happy to see him.

That was Xin Mo. 

Luo Binghe did not care he was here. It was simply something he had to deal with now. This unusual arrangement to appease his blade. 

"It was fine," Luo Binghe allowed. "How did." He paused briefly, then continued on, erring toward cordiality. "How did Shishu sleep?" 

"Quite well, thank you for asking, Junshang. Hmm, would you like any jianbing this morning? Shishu made them with extra soybean paste today. He noticed that Junshang enjoyed them like that last time," Shang Qinghua said. 

Xin Mo paused in its sappy crooning long enough to growl wordlessly at Luo Binghe. 

Daring him to even consider saying something unpleasant about Baba's consideration of him, about his cooking. 

"Thank you, Shang-shishu." Fortunately, this sort of thing was not actually something to voice complaint about. Shang Qinghua was not a bad cook. "This one would love some jianbing." 

Curiously enough, just as he had noticed previously, Shang Qinghua had no shame regarding kissing his sword nearly any time of day and calling it ridiculous childish monikers, but this. 

This was what brought color to his cheeks. 

Luo Binghe had to wonder if Shang Qinghua was unused to being shown appreciation, even in this forced politeness. With regard to Mobei-Jun, he could see that. The man was taciturn at best on a good day. 

In the Sect... 

Well. 

Then he remembered he didn't particularly care. It was a bit curious but not really. Something easy to cast aside without another thought. 

"Of course, Junshang," Shang Qinghua murmured, diligently adding more food to his plate, a tiny but giddy smile curling his lips. 

Luo Binghe's head filled with a low rumbling purr as Shang Qinghua shuffled off to a corner of the room with Xin Mo, sheath and all. It accompanied him throughout the entire meal. Satisfaction wafted against the gaping ache in his chest, faint tendrils of sunlight that were swallowed henceforth, rendered void. 

Good jianbing though. 

The way that his other subordinates began to act far more respectful to Shang Qinghua was something he supposed could not be avoided.

Luo Binghe had made no effort to declare that this man was of import to him, but the way he allowed him to get away with practically anything regarding Xin Mo was an indicator like nothing else. 

Xin Mo itself was much too shameless to keep others from noticing. Most could not hear the noises it made or the glee or possessive envy, but they could hear and see the way it started vibrating obnoxiously around its "Baba". 

And the malice it radiated if any demon came too close to Shang Qinghua was difficult to ignore as well. (Luo Binghe had to assume it was reacting to Shang Qinghua's tendency to grow frightened easily, any negative startlement making his scent flare up with sour fear.) 

"So is it feeding on him?" Sha Hualing asked bluntly one evening, a clawed hand at a partially clothed hip. 

The him in question continued to sit on the windowsill, calmly oiling Xin Mo's blade with a cloth and humming a strange tune under his breath. Luo Binghe didn't even glance toward them. 

"No," he allowed. 

Not in the sense she meant at least. Xin Mo merely liked to bask in Shang Qinghua's presence. It did not seem to draw anything tangible from the man. 

No energies. No life force. 

"Is Junshang fucking him?" 

"No." Stop talking. (His human sensibilities still cringed a bit at how easy it was for demons to discuss sex in public.) 

Sha Hualing stared at Shang Qinghua, scrutinizing.

Luo Binghe bit back a sigh. 

He did not care to admit he had no idea what was going on. Fortunately, he had a simple solution to this. 

"No more queries. Go home." 

Chapter Text

Shang Qinghua was absolutely the sort of person to avoid a direct confrontation whenever possible. Particularly when that confrontation involved physical violence and martial arts. 

However- he was still the Lord of An Ding, and what? Was he just supposed to let those poor kiddos get gobbled up? 

Heck no! 

As a former outer disciple, he could definitely sympathize with their plight. An Ding's disciples were not chosen for their martial or spiritual talents, and only every one in a hundred actually had any true potential to kick some ass. 

That wasn't to say they couldn't learn to outwit their enemies if need be, but in a plain fight? So not winning! 

If an An Ding disciple drew their weapon outside of the training field, they'd probably lose. Flat out. No question about it. 

And those outer disciples? Most of whom were a little too old in the first place? Came a little too late to start cultivating? Come on! Not fair! 

For situations like these, Shang Qinghua had prepared an array for his young disciples to utilize. 

In the event they were in what they considered to be serious trouble, all they had to do was cast it, and his corresponding talisman would alert him to the issue. The first couple iterations of it had caught his robes on fire, so he'd had to adjust its intensity to a bright obnoxious green glow instead. 

Just for shits and giggles, he called it "Life Alert". 

When he was a kid their age, he would have loved to have this sort of thing. Of course, if it'd been a thing back then, that may have caused some issues for his king... hmm. Not great. But yeah, it would have been convenient in any other circumstance. 

Got a life or death creature or curse problem you can't handle? Oh, there are no strong martial siblings around that can help keep you safe? Oh dear! 

No problem! Shizun to the rescue! 

Just cast Life Alert, and your trusty teacher will lend a hand. Hang in there. He'll be right over. 

His disciples did not often get in such troubles. The bandits they ran into every so often they could actually beat up because hello? Cultivators. And they carried heavy shit day in and day out, they could probably bench press boulders regardless. 

Heh, get wrecked, fellow criminals. Better luck next time. 

But actual beasts? Monsters? Demons? Yeah, might need a hand. 

Life Alert was only activated every two to five years, and Shang Qinghua made sure to respond accordingly with the necessary promptness. Was a bit difficult to manage, depending on what he was doing at the moment, but hey. The kiddos needed him! 

(And let's be real. It was a welcome break from his mountain of paperwork.) 

Unless his king was actively disciplining him for something or the other, he left right away, throwing out a bullshit excuse if he had company when he felt the pulse of qi against his hip. 

Shang Qinghua did not even consider not slashing open a portal the moment he moved to a more discreet place when he felt it this time, lurching through space to chase after his misfortunate kiddos. 

It was probably a good thing that Luo Binghe wasn't keeping quite the closest of eyes on him anymore, wandering off sometimes to do whatever. Probably get a break. Plot some shit. Who knew. 

Shang Qinghua was pretty sure he was taking a nap, and honestly, good for him. Take all those naps, kid. Shang Qinghua approved. Who didn't like a good nap? Naps were great. 

Yu Dian drew from its sheath with a soft schling. Its hilt fit comfortably in his opposite palm. 

He scanned the area, taking in the situation, eyes narrowed. 

"Shizun!" multiple harried voices cried, some in relief, others frantic. 

Shang Qinghua sent Yu Dian to collect the two that were very nearly falling off that cliff face, hanging on for dear life on some ancient branch that creaked and wheezed ominously. He angled Xin Mo at the culprits, expression distinctly disapproving. 

"That is quite enough," Shang Qinghua stated. 

Xin Mo's rumble tickled his brain, but this purr was darker, lustful for blood. Ah, how it understood its Baba. 

Shang Qinghua cleared out the group of errant jackal demons far more quickly than he had ever cleared out a similar sort of enemy before. Ordinarily, he would have had to resort to more trickery to get the job done, as this amount was a bit much even for a Peak Lord, but Xin Mo, his perfect little deadly bun, it truly was an exceptional sword. Just the ultimate trump weapon. 

So strong!

So cool!

Go, Xiao Bao! Such an OP child! 

Xin Mo felt so very smug at all the praise Shang Qinghua was thinking its way. 

Heck, Shang Qinghua felt pretty cool too. With all the extra oomph his beloved child was adding to his moves, who wouldn't feel cool? 

If he maybe struck a little pose that was more or less the same as a certain Ultraman action figure he may have had as a child when he landed, having slain his last opponent, well. Cucumber Bro wasn't around to nag him for being a lame ass bitch. 

His disciples were speechless, but not for long. 

One of the newer ones just came forward and latched onto his non-swordbearing arm with a sniffle, bobbing his head like he couldn't decide whether to bow or not. "Shizun! You came! Th-Th-Thank you!" 

Aww. Poor kid. 

"Of course Shizun did." Really, if he would feel guilty over leaving anyone behind to go be roomies with his bro in another dimension, it would be these children. They were good little students. Deserved better. 

"Shizun's Life Alert never fails!" an older kid declared. 

"Shizun, so amazing," Xiang Yue gasped, stars in her eyes. 

And... oh. A lot of them were looking at him like that. 

It made him feel a little funny. Not in a bad way. Just. Different? 

Good thing it was getting dark. His cheeks were getting a bit warm. 

"Shizun, did you get a new sword?" 

"Shizun, can you dual wield like Wei-shibo now?" 

Shang Qinghua considered this. "Shizun might need some practice on that, but he could try." 

Yu Dian did not seem to care that he carried Xin Mo around so much, so it probably wouldn't mind sharing such efforts either. 

"Shizun, this other sword is so beautiful. Can we see?" Mei Tungmei asked. 

He pretended to think about that. 

"Sure, why not. Come here." 

The kiddos gathered around and oohed and aahed. Shang Qinghua took out a cloth and wiped down Xin Mo's blade, eyeing the disciples to determine which would require medical attention. Xin Mo vibrated gently, pleased by the thumb stroking against its hilt. 

"Zhiqiang, Yongnian, go with your injured shidis to Qian Cao. This master shall place you on An Ding. Go there after, okay?" he instructed. Then he paused. "Don't mention Shizun's cool new sword." 

Xu Yongnian and Yin Zhiqiang merely bowed in acquiescence, uttering their understanding. They rounded up the aforementioned shidis. 

"Is it another 'experiment'?" Xiang Yue asked, curious on their behalf. 

"Sort of," Shang Qinghua said. "It's a long story, but this one thinks I'm its father." 

Mei Tungmei just made a "nice" gesture with her fingers. The rest of his disciples looked confused but otherwise unperturbed. Their shizun was a little weird. It was just how it was. Nothing to be concerned about here. 

Shang Qinghua ripped open another portal and waved a hand, ushering his little disciples inside. It shut when all the injured had passed through. He turned to his remaining disciples. 

"Alright, kids. Let's clean this mess up! Let's see what we can salvage from the cart and go from there." 

The kids saluted him. "Yes, Shizun!" 

Shang Qinghua organized the disciples in groups of three and sent them forth, some to repair the cart, some to arrange the supplies, some to gather and burn the demon corpses. Stuff like that. 

He gave them a thumbs up before he went off to rinse himself off in the nearest body of water and change into his spare pair of robes. 

"Shizun believes in you. Keep up the good work." 

That earned him a chorus of thank you's. 

Good kids, those ones. 

Babaaaa.

Shang Qinghua placed a kiss to Xin Mo's blade, chuckling. "No, Baba hasn't forgotten about you, Xiao Bao. Such a filial child. Thank you. Baba loves you." 

Xin Mo made a darling little squee, which just totally deserved another quick kiss. So cute! 

Chapter Text

When Luo Binghe voiced a very particular question to his lieutenants, Shang Qinghua nearly pumped his fist in the air. 

He was right! 

He fucking knew it! 

His son was pining after his bro! Still! His discipleship crush had not waned even after being thrust into Hell! 

Which was actually probably making the sting of Cucumber Bro's forced betrayal sharper than it could have been, which. Not good. But aha! Take that, Cucumber Bro! This author was right about his son! 

All the demons in the room turned to him as one, startling him a little with how in sync they were. 

Hey hey, what was this now? 

"Peak Lord Shang has something to say on this matter naturally," and of course it was Sha Hualing! Putting him on the spot like this! Come on! 

The demoness in question merely grinned, sharp fangs glinting dangerously under dainty lips. Somehow managing to portray both deference and just an ungodly amount of condescension. What was with that knowing look, eh? Don't look at this old man like that! 

Shang Qinghua laughed a little, confused by all this attention. 

They would allow him to speak if he had some ideas about strategy, but he mostly relayed them to his king first. And they didn't ever just single him out and try to get him to talk like this. A lot of pressure, haha! Wow! 

Luo Binghe was smiling as well, all gentle and polite like Shang Qinghua had set more food in front of him. Still creeped him out a little... he could never tell if those smiles were sincere, or if he was secretly plotting his demise for any embarrassments he had suffered with Xin Mo... that was what he got for making his son so difficult to get a read on, he supposed. 

Shang Qinghua appreciated attention from his son, especially positive attention, but he could be a bit scary, yeah? So intimidating...

"Shishu, is this true?" Luo Binghe inquired, voice all soft and low and curious, a singular black brow rising in askance. 

Shang Qinghua swallowed roughly, tightening his fingers around Xin Mo's hilt. Who had begun to radiate such killing intent and malice when it sensed its Baba's rising anxiety that it was a bit worrisome. 

He patted an absent hand over the blade area resting in his lap. No, no, everything was fine. 

Yep. Just fine. All good here. 

"Of course, Junshang. This subordinate could offer some advice," Shang Qinghua declared, far more confident than he felt. 

"Go on then," Luo Binghe insisted, and hmm, perhaps that encouragement was real... in this room full of demons, this old man must be the best source of information. If only because of his race. 

"There is a single phrase that shall be the key to your success:" Shang Qinghua paused to make a cutesy little finger heart, index finger and thumb crossing, holding his hand under his chin with a meaningful smile. "Gap moe!" 

He was met with silence and dumbfounded stares. 

"What sort of human term is that..." Jiayang-Jun grumbled. 

Luo Binghe actually mimicked the finger heart perfectly, staring between his own hand and Shang Qinghua's with a blank expression. "This? A gap moe?" 

"No, this is a heart. But it's all part of the gap moe," Shang Qinghua continued, rapidly gaining confidence. Look, his son was even participating! Very promising! 

Luo Binghe stared harder at his own finger heart. "I see." 

He did not see. 

This was fine. Shang Qinghua would explain. 

"Gap moe is an effect where a person gives off the impression of being frightening and brutal, but then something reveals their softer side, making them terribly endearing and lovable. Even with all the, ah, prior scary things. Take Xiao Bao for example." He lifted Xin Mo helpfully, so they had a better view. "Absolutely terrifying, yes? Super OP. What a BAMF." 

"Again with the human terms-" 

"What even is bomf?" 

"BAMF," Shang Qinghua corrected, breezing past that without elaborating. "But such is Xin Mo's duality. It can be both a scary demon blade and a darling child who enjoys kisses. Most beings are capable of faceted personalities." 

If he gave into the urge to rub his cheek against the bare blade near his face, well. They should all be accustomed to these sorts of things by now. 

Xin Mo's answering purr made his heart melt further. Cute cute cute cute. Better than a little kitty cat! 

"Is Peak Lord Shang suggesting that our Emperor Luo is a child who wants kisses from some person?" It wasn't quite a sneer, but it was damn close. 

Luo Binghe held up a hand, and the room quieted, grumbles ceasing in an instant. His eyes bored into Shang Qinghua, who made sure to straighten up.  

"This gap moe is quite effective then," Luo Binghe surmised, possibly referencing how easily Shang Qinghua had accepted Xin Mo. 

Shang Qinghua raised an emphatic finger, nodding. "Why, definitely, your eminence! The most effective way to melt through a man's heart is to act vulnerable and adorable. Pathetic even. No matter how icy that heart is, just act pathetic and cute, and he'll be yours, most definitely!" 

This earned him further outrage and dirty looks from most of his audience. His king merely blinked, staring down at what might have been Shang Qinghua's ear. 

"Vulnerable...?" Luo Binghe echoed, seeming to grow lost in his thoughts for a moment, clawed finger tapping his chin. 

"Oh yes, there is nothing more endearing than vulnerability! Vulnerability is such a lovable quality. Honesty. Very cute. And gap moe is all about cuteness. No man can resist it! Not if one's efforts are thorough. Even if he thinks it a fluke the first time or the next and the next, keep it up. Have patience. The gap moe is flawless. Works every single time," Shang Qinghua proclaimed. 

Okay, that might be a little white lie, but most fans did generally start cooing over characters with a decent gap moe. And Cucumber Bro, while he would absolutely resist against these efforts for understandable reasons, he definitely had a soft spot for his son being cute and sad. 

Could work in theory? 

Shang Qinghua continued to bullshit his way through his impromptu love advice, and Luo Binghe listened raptly the entire time. Such a captive audience. 

He half expected him to start taking notes. 

"Thank you, Baba. This was enlightening," Luo Binghe stated when he finally ran out of things to say. Then his expression went a little strange, ears pinking. 

"Of course, Junshang. This subordinate would offer such advice any time," Shang Qinghua insisted, and. Wait! WAIT!

Did he just?! 

No, the council members were looking at him funny, too!

His son! Called him! BABA! 

Oh, and well, Xin Mo was growling like it wanted to leap across the room and kill its own wielder, which was, uh. Not great! Not great! 

Shang Qinghua laughed nervously and sliced a hole in space, yeeting himself and his enraged sword child through it before Xin Mo did something more than a little migraine. Which was, no, way too bold. But. 

Yeah. Priorities. 

Xin Mo hissed and spat, positively boiling at Luo Binghe's... slip? No, had to be a slip, haha. Had to have misspoken, yeah? 

"Hey, hey, hey, shhh... it's okay, sweetheart. My little cinnamon roll. No need to toss back that much vinegar!" Shang Qinghua insisted, cradling the blade to his chest and flopping bodily onto the ground. "Shhh... shhh... shhh... Xiao Bao, hush now, that's a good child." 

MY BABA. MINE! 

"Yes, Baba knows, silly. Don't get so upset. Is it so big of a deal? Junshang did not mean it." 

Shang Qinghua resigned himself to laying here for a while more until it calmed down. Its cussing was picking up in intensity if anything. 

A familiar wafting of chilled air heralded his king's arrival. Ah... was he going to scold him? Viciously beat him for being so daring? Rude? 

Mobei-Jun usually waited until Shang Qinghua gave Xin Mo back to discipline him, but... he may have gone too far today. 

"Qinghua." 

"My king." Shang Qinghua rolled over, so he was on his stomach, angling his head up to glance at his king. Xin Mo went silent briefly, seeming surprised that it was now squished like this, even starting up a tiny purr, but then it remembered it was fucking pissed. "Pardon this servant for not rising. Xiao Bao is... it is reluctant to allow others to call this one Baba. Hehe." 

Mobei-Jun stared at him, wordless for several seconds. "You are pathetic." 

Damn. Okay. Scolding it was then. 

-wait, why did he look a little happy about that? Was that a happy look? Maybe he was just hallucinating. From all the stress. 

Mobei-Jun just stood there and stared at him, saying nothing else. Looking mildly pleased. 

... Alright then. Cool. Cool. At least he was getting off easy? For now? 

Potential beating seemingly averted, Shang Qinghua turned his attention back to soothing his snarling sword baby. 

Chapter Text

Perhaps their new junshang was no rival for his human's affections after all. 

Who was it that Shang Qinghua ran behind and clung to, bleating in abject terror and whining about mistreatment from this one foe or the other, sometimes going so far as to bodily place him ahead of himself like a shield of meat? It was Mobei-Jun, never Luo Binghe. 

Mobei-Jun had been rather irritated by such behavior initially, that he could admit... but as time wore on, it did not bother him as much. Shang Qinghua had other strengths to play to than mere combat. 

But to think it had been a courting technique? 

A ploy intended to seduce him? 

Humans were quite odd, were they not. But he was aware of that already. His Qinghua was the oddest one he had ever met. 

So truly, he could only be pleased by this new context. His human had been acting incredibly pathetic for him for years. Pathetic and "cute". 

Tears? Shang Qinghua said those were Cute. Fell under "vulnerability"- which was Cute. Shang Qinghua cried more than anyone else he knew. 

Being sticky? Who clung to his cloak or his legs more than Shang Qinghua? Pathetic. Cute. 

Mobei-Jun had even seen Shang Qinghua make that "heart" gesture before at him a couple moments before laughing nervously and wandering off with an embarrassed expression, though at the time he had interpreted it as a poorly done snap of fingers, given its lack of sound. All part of the "gap moe", he said. It was Cute. It was Pathetic. 

Shang Qinghua was courting him! Flirting! Just... as a human it would seem. No matter. 

Mobei-Jun appreciated it all the same. To know his feelings were reciprocated was an excellent thing. It pleased him beyond measure. If he were another man, he might have cracked a sincere smile. He was quite overjoyed. 

Perhaps marriage was not as far off as he had envisioned previously. 

As for Luo Binghe. If he did wish to call Shang Qinghua "Baba", this was adequate. Fine. 

If the human could accept an ancient sword spirit as a surrogate child, having their junshang address him as such was not like to bother him. (Shang Qinghua did call him a kid when Luo Binghe was out of earshot sometimes... even "that son"...) 

If it was Shang Qinghua, it did not matter how strange the situation was. Mobei-Jun was fine with it. 

As such:

"Take responsibility," Mobei-Jun admonished the one Shang Qinghua called Xiao Bao. 

Shang Qinghua paled, shooting Mobei-Jun a confused look. "M-My king?" 

Mobei-Jun was not glaring at him. He was only staring past him. At the sword he was restraining. 

Sibling squabbles were perfectly normal, encouraged even, but Mobei-Jun was personally of the belief they should not fight too much. All their animosity should be limited to nonlethal activities and no humiliations too great. Otherwise, they would end up attempting to assassinate the other's child one day. 

(Had he thought about how he would raise a child? More than one might expect, yes. But his Qinghua did seem to like adopting children, so it was only proper to consider such things.) 

"Be cold to your brother as you like, but do not deny him the right to address your father as such," Mobei-Jun continued, undeterred and equally as flat in his disapproval. "You do not get to decide who is disowned or unacknowledged. That is Qinghua's right. Understand?" 

Shang Qinghua was blinking rapidly now, mouth agape. "Oh. Oh. Oh. You're. He's. You're talking to the sword." 

"Mn," Mobei-Jun affirmed absently. "It is Xin Mo's fault, is it not." 

"Well, er, I mean, technically? If a person has a constant loop of mental association with this one guy as a baba, he might slip up and say that sort of thing one day on accident, heh. Oh God, I've given my son more daddy issues..." Shang Qinghua trailed off in a mutter, looking a bit concerned. "Haven't I? Did he mean it? No, no, I don't think, definitely just an-" 

Mobei-Jun only really focused on the "my son" part. See? Acknowledgement. Right there. 

"Its fault. Should take responsibility. He's its brother now. Like Yu Dian," Mobei-Jun said as a reminder. 

"My king, you're kind of like a very chill stepfather right now? Stern. But definitely chill? Very unflappable." Which. Okay. Sure. "Hahaha, not that this subordinate should- would imply that his king will be raising his children-" 

"This king will help raise all of Qinghua's children," Mobei-Jun stated. 

He might not be able to name them as heirs to the Northern Wastelands, particularly the sword spirit ones, but he would still accept them and offer aid as needed. They were Qinghua's. His future consort's. 

Shang Qinghua stopped talking and turned pink, then red. "... Ah. Okay. Thanks...? Thank you?" 

"En." Truly, it was understandable. This desire to love Shang Qinghua, even in a familial manner. He could not fault them for it. 

Shang Qinghua was very lovable. 

Shang Qinghua remained a rather charming shade of red. Mobei-Jun lowered a hand, ignoring the human's squeak and flinch and flare of sour fear-apprehension, tucking a rogue lock of hair behind a rounded ear, eyes betraying his incessant fondness. 

"So pathetic," he repeated, pleased. Very pleased. 

So shameless, his human. So peculiar. So perfect. 

Shang Qinghua grew redder, expression dazed. Cute, no? "My king." 

His title sounded best from Shang Qinghua's lips. 

The only improvement would be if it were Husband as well. 

"Still upset?" Mobei-Jun asked. 

Shang Qinghua blinked. Then blinked again, refocusing. "O-O-Oh, Xiao Bao? Yes, yes, it is." 

No matter. 

When it came to Shang Qinghua, Mobei-Jun could be patient. 

He did leave briefly however to make a report to their junshang. If the young man was at all enraged about Shang Qinghua taking off with his weapon without asking, it did not show on his face. 

Mobei-Jun actually thought he might be considering self defenestration from that window he was glaring out. The other lieutenants had been dismissed by the time he stepped from a shadow into that room. 

Junshang had no grounds to be ashamed. But surely a man as intelligent as Luo Binghe could come to this conclusion himself. Loving Shang Qinghua was no embarrassing thing. 

So he merely relayed their location and Shang Qinghua's reasoning behind leaving so suddenly, departing when Luo Binghe waved him away. 

Shang Qinghua was cuddling with Xin Mo when Mobei-Jun returned, having risen to his knees, sword cradled to his chest still, crooning more nonsense. Mobei-Jun observed in silence. 

Chapter Text

Oh no, the Disapproving Shizun stare. 

Breaking out the big guns, that Cucumber Bro. 

"Bro, come on. You just don't get it. I had to threaten no more kisses for a month to get it to chill and promise not to do any extra mean things to its wielder," Shang Qinghua protested, holding up his hands. "It was real pissed. Throwing a proper tantrum. Very jealous sword child." 

Like, he got it. Shen Qingqiu was actually fairly protective of and worried over his favorite Protagonist boy even if he was scared shitless of what he was becoming off in the demon realm. But this really wasn't his fault right now!

Really, he should thank him for acting so quickly. No Binghe harm done over here. Not really. Just- just maybe some embarrassment, but he could get over that. It was like calling your teacher "dad" or something. 

Mortifying in the moment, but it would go away. Eventually. 

Shang Qinghua certainly wasn't planning on mentioning that to him again. What did he have, a death wish? 

Shen Qingqiu kept giving him that unhappy stare. 

"Bro, please. You know I'm not really 'dad' dad material, right? I'm trying my best here. It's hard when you have, like, a million children to parent." 

Shen Qingqiu glared some more. 

"So... are you not going to look into a way to fix Zheng Yang...?" Shang Qinghua hedged, head cocking to the left. 

"Of course I am," Shen Qingqiu retorted, all pissy and sharp. "Binghe's going to be hacking enemies up with his claws at this rate-" 

"I mean, he's strong enough to make that kind of work, and he can't really die, so-" 

"Ridiculous author, shitty dad showing favorites again-" 

"Oi-" Him? Talking about favoritism? Bro. 

"Wait, wait." The sudden halt in his rant had Shang Qinghua blinking, caught off guard. "How are you going to give it to him exactly? Are you going to say you fixed it?" 

Shang Qinghua smiled, a little bemused. "Do you want me to tell him you fixed it for him?" 

"Are you crazy?" 

"I'm serious, you know. That could probably earn you some affection points with him. I mean, maybe you felt badly about the shoving, maybe you felt like he could survive that Endless Abyss, maybe you wanted his sword to be all nice and ready for him when he got back and you talked things out and I stole it or something because, ya know, sometimes Xin Mo can be a real nuisance, and he should probably have a weapon on hand even when it's acting up-" 

"Oh my God." 

"You don't like that story?" 

"Airplane." 

"Fine, we can workshop it. We got some time. Oh, but there's something else I needed to talk about. It's not, like, as urgent or anything... but. Can we talk about it?" 

"...Yeah, I guess. Go on." 

Shang Qinghua went on. 

Shen Qingqiu remained silent throughout his recounting, not seeming to react in the slightest. 

"So do you." Shang Qinghua twiddled his thumbs, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and worrying away at it. His eyes fell to his lap, lip popping free, and his cheeks puffed out. "Do you think my king maybe wants to be my friend? A little bit? Like, maybe I'm reading way too much into it, I could just be one of his better servants? Or, or maybe he's showing his favor like that because I'm his adviser-" 

"Airplane Bro. My guy." Shang Qinghua could hear that eye roll. "Please." 

He glanced up, still frowning. "What's up?" 

Shen Qingqiu was pinching the bridge of his nose. "Dude. Are you serious?" 

"About...?" Shang Qinghua prompted, gesturing for him to continue. 

"Bro." 

"Bro?" 

Shen Qingqiu's hands came to press together, a clapping type motion without the dry slap effect sound, and he touched his fingertips to his nose. Brought them down. Exasperation colored his whole entire being. 

Which. Bit unfair, Cucumber Bro! 

This is a valid concern! 

He didn't exactly have a huge friend circle in this world! Or really any actual friends... his favorite hater was the closest thing he had to a friend. Everyone else was a colleague, boss type, student, acquaintance, enemy... no friends. 

Oh, well, and Xin Mo. His adorable little child. 

But no, no normal friends. 

If his king thought of him like a friend, how cool would that be? Maybe they could even start hanging out without beatings sometimes! Things to look forward to! 

Don't make fun of him, come on! 

"Airplane, that is literally the gayest thing I've ever heard," Shen Qingqiu declared in a deadpan. 

Shang Qinghua felt his brain short circuit for a moment. Then it rebooted to the tune of: "No fucking way, Bro. Come on." 

Because that would mean... that would mean Mobei-Jun was into him. 

And. Nah. Just no. 

Come on. 

"You weren't even there. You don't know how he said it," Shang Qinghua continued, shaking his head. Nope, nope. 

"That's true," Shen Qingqiu conceded. "Mobei-Jun just didn't strike me as the uncle-godfather type." 

"But he strikes you as the boyfriend type?" Shang Qinghua sputtered. "He's not even gay. I think I would know. He doesn't look at anybody like that! Boy, girl, enby, nobody. Not super into relationships like that right now." 

"You think he's going around, offering that service to all his court officials?" Shen Qingqiu shot back. 

Honestly, the one time this author wanted his bro to think of a situation in a platonic light, he has to make it romantic! What the hell? 

"So he could be my friend," Shang Qinghua said, deciding to go with that and ignore his bro's funky conclusion drawing. "Cool, cool." 

"But the hair tucking," Shen Qingqiu insisted. "Gay. What bro does that for his bro? That's in, like, all the cheesy romantic scenes in movies. Real cliché." 

Shang Qinghua could think of at least ten different things Shen Qingqiu had done with Liu Qingge off the top of his head that were far more homosexual than a little light hair touching. 

And, you know what? Here, let him list them out-

"Shut- up-! God, Airplane!" 

"God's listening, s'up?" 

Liu Qingge walked in on Shang Qinghua getting pelted in the head with melon seeds, halfheartedly pleading for mercy and cackling, hands waving by his face. He paused in the doorway, holding his colorful stuffed... tiger? Eh? 

Shen Qingqiu ceased his little tantrum once he realized that they had an audience. He was real particular about keeping his "cool guy, aloof immortal master" reputation, yeah. 

"Liu-shidi," Shen Qingqiu greeted calmly, like Shang Qinghua wasn't still wheezing on the floor, making a fool out of himself. 

"Shen-shixiong," Liu Qingge responded, head dipping briefly. Then he turned to Shang Qinghua, stepping forth. His arms stuck out, tiger held out like a bomb about to explode. Shang Qinghua pushed himself up on an elbow and flicked off a melon seed from his hair, brow cocking. "For Shang-shixiong." 

Eh? 

"Thanks?" Shang Qinghua said, accepting it easily, giving it a little squish-squish. It was pretty cute. He could dig it. Maybe give it to one of his smol outer disciples or... put it on a shelf or something? "What's this for? Is it a special occasion? I swear I didn't have a birthday recently." 

Liu Qingge's face did a funny thing, but it was distinctly awkward. "It's for. Shixiong's baby?" 

"Baby," Shang Qinghua repeated blankly. Something wasn't clicking here. 

Liu Qingge looked at Shen Qingqiu, then back to Shang Qinghua. "I wasn't certain if they were a boy or a girl. Tigers are good for protection either way." 

That was. Omg, that was really sweet actually. What a thoughtful shidi. 

But wait. 

Shang Qinghua cast an amused look to Shen Qingqiu. "Bro, you telling people I have a baby?" 

"Does Shixiong not have a child?" Liu Qingge asked, horribly lost. 

Poor guy. 

Shang Qinghua took pity on him, turning a smile his way. "I do, I do actually. It's not really a human one though." 

Liu Qingge blinked, brows ticking closer together. "Is it an animal?" 

"Nope. Um, more a weapon. It's a sword. I got a new sword," Shang Qinghua explained. "Or. Found it. You know how it goes." 

"Sword," Liu Qingge repeated. 

"Yeah," Shang Qinghua said, still smiling. "Very pretty one. Looks like that." 

He lifted a finger and jabbed it toward his mug. Liu Qingge looked, blinking some more. 

"Ah." 

"Yeah." 

"What is its name?" Liu Qingge inquired, seeming genuinely curious. 

"Well..." 

"He's been calling it Xiao Bao." 

"Bao as in treasure or bao as in bun?" 

"Bun," Shang Qinghua supplied cheerfully. "It's my adorable little cinnamon roll. My lil doughy baby full of sharp edges." 

"More like sinnamon roll," Shen Qingqiu said, and Shang Qinghua snorted. 

"I... alright," Liu Qingge managed. 

"Sorry, too weird?" Shang Qinghua asked. 

"No," Liu Qingge said. He glanced at the tiger toy. "Oil?" 

"Oh, for Xiao Bao? Um, yeah, thanks. I could always use some more of that to clean it," Shang Qinghua agreed, head bobbling. "Thanks, Liu-shidi." 

Liu Qingge nodded once, curt, and marched right off. Possibly to go get it right now. Which. Not necessary, but. 

Very sweet. 

A nice sentiment, for sure. 

Shang Qinghua sighed, squishing his new tiger toy to his chest. Maybe he would actually give it to Xin Mo. For shits and giggles. It would probably love it either way since Baba gave it to it. 

...should he get one for Luo Binghe? 

No, ehehe, too random, too random! And that would draw attention to the embarrassment his emperor-boss wanted to ignore! Not good! 

And actually, that might make Xin Mo more pissed actually. Heh. No. 

Maybe not. 

Luo Binghe wasn't a little boy... or an overly affectionate evil sword... so he might not appreciate getting a stuffed tiger from his servant/shishu. No. 

Or...? 

No, no, too random. 

Chapter Text

"Son did well today," Mobei-Jun offered following a rather lengthy and irritating Court session, most inexplicably. 

Sha Hualing spat out the alcohol she had just poured into her mouth, coughing violently and smacking her own chest with a fist. Luo Binghe only stared at the man, eye twitching lightly in his bafflement. 

He would like to assume he had heard that incorrectly, but not only was Sha Hualing choking still, Xin Mo was grumbling away in his mind, displeased about yet another thing involving Baba- fucking damned- Shang Qinghua. 

Shang Qinghua. Not BABA. NEVER BABA. 

Like hell that little shit is going to steal any kisses from me-! Xin Mo started, dark and roiling. They're all MINE. 

Luo Binghe ignored that bit. The sword spirit tended to be on the paranoid side when it came to someone "stealing" Shang Qinghua or his kisses away from it. Although he couldn't deny he could believe it if that man wanted to kiss his demon king. 

Shang Qinghua didn't exactly have much restraint when it came to kisses. As was evidenced by his willingness to start peppering random ancient swords with them. 

What was kissing a demon or his superior at that? 

"Pardon," Luo Binghe managed, calm and tepid as he was most certainly not. He couldn't help the look on his face however. 

Because this was just too absurd. Why. 

Mobei-Jun actually went so far as to repeat himself, emotionless in both voice and face. Looking him straight in the eye. "Son did well today." 

Sha Hualing finally stopped coughing, but her expression said she was most definitely dying inside. "Mobei-Jun, what the fuck-" 

Mobei-Jun blinked, unperturbed. 

"Junshang is Qinghua's son," was all he offered in explanation, as if that made any sense whatsoever. 

And- no. Just no. 

That wasn't even accurate. 

Gods. 

"This gives you the grounds to refer to this emperor as such?" Luo Binghe countered flatly. 

"En," Mobei-Jun agreed, nodding slightly. 

Then, when Luo Binghe could not think of anything to retort with, falling into silence as his confusion and disbelief rose, the demon merely departed without another word. Like this was a perfectly ordinary thing to do, nothing to comment upon or explain. No. 

So not only did he have to concern himself with accidental marriage proposals in the demon realm, he had to worry about getting adopted?! 

WHAT WAS HIS LIFE. FUCK. 

-dual cultivation could be allowed on rare occasions since Baba likes sex, very horny man, my baba, but kisses? HAH! NICE TRY! AIN'T HAPPENING! FUCKING BASTARD WANTS TO CALL HIMSELF STEPFATHER-

Luo Binghe started screaming in his head to get it to SHUT! UP! STOP THINKING ABOUT BABA!

No words, just screaming. 

Xin Mo took this as the challenge it was and started screaming back. 

Some of this may have been out loud, spiritual energy flaring and all, as Sha Hualing was looking increasingly uncomfortable and beginning to shuffle toward the room's exit. 

Luo Binghe frowned at the toy perched so audaciously on his pillow. 

It was highly unlikely that any children were getting allowed into his chambers here, and that style, it was unmistakably human. He could be incorrect, as there was still plenty of the demon realm he did not know, but he felt this could only be the work of one man. 

That man. 

Had he grown so bold following this junshang's slip as to mock him outright? 

For some reason, what came to mind was that man's offer to hug him when he was crying that one time... how genuine that hurt had been when he inevitably refused such a peculiar and unprompted offer. 

Ugh. 

Luo Binghe stepped closer, expression neutral, to pluck up the tiny cloth tiger. It was a simple thing, painted in bright yellows and reds, stuffed with grain bran. It was on the larger side, as cloth tigers ran, but it was still so evidently made for a child. It scarcely made for a handful when he palmed it. 

Baba- Shang Qinghua! didn't need any further encouragement. No. 

He was shameless enough as it was. Luo Binghe wasn't entirely convinced that, while that man was indeed frightful around him, he wouldn't try to hug him or Gods forbid kiss him like he did with Xin Mo should he offer any approval beyond lenience or begrudging cordiality.

How long had it taken him to start being utterly insufferable with Xin Mo? 

No time at all! None! 

All Xin Mo did was make a fool of itself, purr a bit, and Shang Qinghua made the entire situation worse, treating the damned spirit like a darling fragile babe or a beloved pet. There was clearly something wrong with that man. 

What fear? No fear. Only deranged behavior with another man's sword. 

And that man actually liked Luo Binghe.

Made him breakfast every morning and simple human snacks as often as he was able, took into account his preferences. Added additional blankets to him while he was sleeping to ward off the chill, pulled entire cloaks out of thin air when he visited the Northern Wastelands for him to wear. Tried to talk to him no matter how many times Luo Binghe only gave wary glances or short answers that could not warrant further conversation. Apparently held actual concern for him, not merely an act of concern, if Xin Mo was to be believed... 

...Luo Binghe was unfortunately inclined to believe it simply due to the fact it could read the emotions and thoughts of others in the most literal sense... 

This young lord ought to crush it to dust and scatter it in the wind. (Only Shizun should hug or kiss him. He only wanted hugs and kisses from Shizun. All this other nonsense was entirely Xin Mo. Not him.) 

His hand brought the cloth tiger closer to his face. Inhaled deeply. 

Sometimes it still caught him off guard how sensitive his nose was these days. Made him sneeze randomly from being overwhelmed. 

His insane martial uncle's scent was not overwhelming. He was actually deeply incensed by how calming it was even without the sunshine-delight flood from his ridiculous sword spirit. How dare Xin Mo do this to him, its wielder. 

He didn't like this. Not at all. 

Luo Binghe kept sniffing the cloth tiger, the pleasant laxness to his muscles at stark odds with how he was growling under his breath, emotions spinning around endlessly. 

He hated this. 

Shang Qinghua. 

"Ju-Junshang? Luo-shizhi? Junshang?" 

...ah. 

Him. 

Luo Binghe turned on him, and Shang Qinghua squeaked, curling in on himself a little, knuckles white against the tray he was holding. Xin Mo growled from its spot, buckled to his back, sheath and all. 

"I hate this," Luo Binghe stated, squeezing the cloth tiger lighter than such a statement demanded. He aggressively ignored the ensuing stab of pain in his head. 

"O-O-Oh, this subordinate is sorry... he can take it back?" Shang Qinghua offered, head dipping low, the line of his shoulders set aquiver. "It's only... well, this one likes to sleep with something at night, and he thought that his lord may as well?" 

Luo Binghe turned his glare on Xin Mo. That traitorous sword. 

It had a tiny wooden tiger charm hanging from its handle, wrapped in place by a leather thread. 

"Right, yes, Xiao Bao as well, but I actually meant, like, to squeeze? At my house? It's nice, hugging something soft and squishy. Maybe that's too weird... this servant understands if Junshang finds the whole thing too childish. He. Please accept his apologies. He did not intend to offer insult. He'll get that out of the way-" 

"No," Luo Binghe cut in, tossing the cloth tiger back onto his pillow. 

If anyone was going to dispose of it, it would be him. Not that man. 

"-a-ah, okay. Okay. Alright. Um." Shang Qinghua dipped his head a couple times and shuffled forward, moving to place his tray down. "Is. Is Junshang alright? He looks..." He trailed off, wringing his hands. He glanced up at Luo Binghe again. Eyes brimming with concern despite the nervousness on his face. "Oh! This one gets good feedback from his king when he gives shoulder massages following baths! Would Junshang like a massage?" 

"Mobei-Jun gives you feedback?" 

Son did well. 

Luo Binghe grimaced. 

"Weeeeell, maybe not in words, per say, but he gives one of these sometimes!" Shang Qinghua made a face, mimicking the result brought forth by such ministrations. 

"Is that not his normal face?" Luo Binghe saw no difference. 

"No," Shang Qinghua said, smiling lightly. 

"...mm." Okay then. "A massage is not necessary," Luo Binghe insisted. (Next thing, he'll be offering more hugs! Kisses! Not happening! Those were for Shizun only!) "Thank you for the offer... Shishu." 

Chapter Text

Damn. 

Getting kidnapped sucked. 

Shang Qinghua guessed he should have figured it would happen sooner or later. His Protagonist was leveling up at an impressive rate, which was really giving Cucumber Bro metaphorical gray hairs. Their plant bodies weren't anywhere near full grown, and well, there was Backup Plan the Second. 

Unbeatable, if he did say so himself. Xiao Bao wouldn't let them down. What a filial nightmare child. 

He couldn't blame Shen Qingqiu for stressing out though. Potential torture and loss of limbs could do that to a person. It would be more concerning if he weren't panicking. What if that meant he was giving up and ready to die? Don't give up, Cucumber Bro! Airplane Bro's got your back! 

But back to his main, most current, very recent problem. 

"Should've installed Life Alert," Shang Qinghua muttered, wiggling his fingers to check his circulation. Blood circulation, that is. 

His spiritual energy was very much not circulating, due to the crimson ropes binding him to this thick stone pillar. Heh, with his arms tied above his head like this, it reminded him a bit of one of his wife plots. Or maybe more than one. He did recycle some rescue subplots and only change a few things to get to the papapa. 

Alas, he could not simply wait around for a hot guy to save him. Mobei-Jun would probably come find him eventually, but this Peak Lord had things to do. 

Papers to grade. Swords to coddle. 

The latter being a rather pressing concern. If Xin Mo did not get his attention for an extended period of time, it might very well get up to some mischief. Maybe drive its wielder insane for shits and giggles. It was a menace. 

"Life Alert?" Demon Lord of the Week asked. 

"It's funny because I'm old," Shang Qinghua explained, nodding sagely. Was it a meme? It was probably a meme. He saw it online somewhere. 

Memories of his past life tended to blur together sometimes. Not everyone could have perfect memory like the illustrious Mr. Cucumber and recall every last detail, even from a book with thousands of words per chapter and hundreds of chapters. 

Demon Lord of the Week stared at him. Then a clawed finger poked into his forehead. 

"Hey," Shang Qinghua protested. 

Poke. 

Poke poke poke. 

What was it with demons and bullying him! Did he just have one of those faces? 

...at least he wasn't beating him up. Ugh. 

"What's so special about Peak Lord Shang? Why can he tame a sword like Xin Mo?" Poke. Poke poke. "So weak." 

Luo Binghe really needed to hurry up and dominate the entire demon realm. That would make it a little less likely for these kidnappings. Not stop them, no. There would always be someone reckless enough to try and do something dumb. 

Also Shang Qinghua was his king's advisor. If nothing else, he might get kidnapped for that by one of Mobei-Jun's enemies. How annoying. 

"Perk of being God," Shang Qinghua said with a shrug. 

Demon Lord of the Week ignored this. "If I kill you, it would inconvenience that person." 

Hm. Hmm. 

"Counterpoint: I could tell you what I do to make Junshang's sword so pleased with me. I am certain a clever and strong lord such as yourself would be able to replicate the effects," Shang Qinghua said, putting on his business face. 

"No more jokes." 

"No more jokes." 

He went on and on about his attributes as a person who would so easily sell out his own Cang Qiong's secrets to the highest bidder. Mobei-Jun just got to him first that time. If it had been any other demon, he'd have done the same. 

Sell his soul for a stale melon seed probably. 

There was no need for violence. He'd be more than willing to offer inside information. If cash was involved, that'd be ideal, but if he was going to threaten his life, that was all the compensation he needed. Let's talk. 

The demon considered this.

"This lord will let you live if you tell him," he conceded. 

"Could you untie me first?" 

"No." 

Fair enough. 

Shang Qinghua was still confident he could get him to lower his guard enough to enact his seventeen step plan and bust out of here. When in doubt, immediately jump to manslaughter. No, wait. 

This counted as premeditated murder probably. Oh well. 

Wouldn't be the first time. 

"That, ah, demon lord from the southeastern marshlands. What's his face. He died, so Junshang will most likely be dealing with one of his daughters," Shang Qinghua supplied after his usual greeting, already rubbing his cheek into Xin Mo with no care or caution. Shameless. "Maybe his sister." 

"He's dead," Luo Binghe said, suspicious. 

"Yes sir, Junshang," Shang Qinghua answered, rubbing harder into the obnoxious purring sword. It was a miracle he hadn't cut himself on it. "This one will strive to provide Junshang with the most accurate and up to date information. He hopes it is satisfactory- oh yes, yes you are, what a pretty handsome sword you are. What a good little bun. So fluffy, so cute, Baba will gobble you right up, nom nom nom-" 

What the fuck was wrong with that man. Why was he like this. 

Luo Binghe was so distracted by how he was actually pretending to bite the sword, lips covering his teeth. Baffled. Exasperated. Getting the most intense second-hand embarrassment just from being in the room with these two. 

Why. 

Just why. 

"-om nom nom nom nom-" 

Baaaabaaaaa, kiss. Now. 

"Oh, Xiao Bao wants a kiss?" 

Yes.  

"Xiao Bao is so adorable. Can it say the magic word?" 

... please? 

"What a good child! You get a gold star!" Shang Qinghua made a chu sound when he kissed the blade, grinning ear to ear. 

Luo Binghe decided he didn't care enough to ask if his shishu had murdered a demon in his free time and left him to his own devices. Shang Qinghua could happily kiss Xin Mo and ramble about nothing for hours at a time, no need for a break. 

The jealousy in his chest was purely because that scenario would be ideal and much fantasized about if it were for Shizun and this disciple. Nothing else. 

More! More! 

"Haha, alright, alright. Here's some more. Yes, Baba loves you." 

Chapter Text

"Yo, Cucumber Bro~. Help a bro out and lend him your digits." 

It was likely a bad thing that Shen Qingqiu was becoming so desensitized to the air turning red and splitting apart for Xin Mo to peek on through from another corner of reality. Definitely a bad thing. 

Like many other things, it was all this ridiculous hack's fault. 

Shen Qingqiu glared at the disembodied head poking down from his ceiling. 

"Please tell me that isn't your attempt at a pickup line." 

"What pickup line?" Shang Qinghua stared at him with a stiff expression, genuinely confused. "Digits. Hand them over, young man. Your bro needs them." 

"I don't have a cellphone, Airplane. What do you want from me?" Shen Qingqiu demanded, pointing his brush at him, drippy end up. 

"Cellphone? Who cares about a cellphone? I want your bank account information," Shang Qinghua said. 

Shen Qingqiu lowered his brush. Set the drippy end in the ink well. "Bro, if you are going to our 'hometown' just to rob me, I hate to break it to you, but my accounts are probably frozen. On account of me being dead." 

Fucking idiot. 

It had been so long since he died, the account his parents gave him would have long since been dissolved. Any financial assets he had would have gone back to his family. What was this guy up to? 

"Oh, seriously?" 

"Seriously." 

Shang Qinghua heaved a sigh. "That's so lame. I can't remember my account information. I'll never get any coffee now." 

Shen Qingqiu's ears perked. "Coffee?" 

Like, coffee coffee? 

Real coffee? 

As in, not tea? 

Shen Qingqiu swallowed the drool that pooled in his mouth, putting his acting skills to work to keep from seeming too excited about this. "You were getting coffee?" 

"Yeah, Bro. What's the point in being able to jump dimensions if I can't get my caffeine fix? I have two jobs. I need some sugary treats to pick me up. I'm craving a latte right now." Shang Qinghua stopped to start petting Xin Mo, who had begun vibrating menacingly, demanding his attention. "No, you're right, Xiao Bao. If you were a coffee drink, I'd eat you too. You're too sweet not to eat up." 

Shit, he could go for a latte too. 

Creamy milk, bitter espresso, whatever sweeteners. Syrup, sugar, creamer. Didn't matter. 

It sounded so good. Fuck. 

"You drink coffee," Shen Qingqiu said. 

"Drink up," Shang Qinghua amended. "Yes, Baba would drink you right up. Yummy baby sword you." 

"Airplane Bro." 

"S'up?" 

"We can just steal the coffee." What was the police going to do, arrest them? Yeah, good luck with that when the culprits are in another dimension. They had an OP teleporting sword. Let's make use of it. 

Shang Qinghua blinked. 

Blinked some more. 

Then a grin split his face, wide and excited. 

"Cucumber Bro, are we pulling a heist?" 

Shen Qingqiu gave a thumbs up. 

Shang Qinghua fell out of his ceiling portal and landed on his feet, not unlike a cat. 

"You have to change first. You're way too dressed up. You can get away with traditional clothing in some parts of town, but that's way too much. You look like a cosplayer." 

Shen Qingqiu got up to change without arguing. He really was too overdressed. 

Clothes were easy. Changing rooms were so convenient! 

The food was the hardest thing to get. 

It was easier for sit-down restaurants where they could pretend to go to the bathroom after eating and just teleport away, a true dine and dash, but for takeout foods, they had to wait for other people to order something they actually wanted and then sneakily snatch it before they noticed. 

Shen Qingqiu usually caused a distraction for him, which never got less funny. His anti-fan was so dramatic when he tried. 

Seven hours later, surrounded by half empty pizza boxes, takeout containers, and cheap modern clothes with the tags still on, it was fairly obvious to Shang Qinghua they had gone overboard with the thievery. 

He was having too much of a blast to care however. 

"Bro, Bro, look at these." Shang Qinghua stuck his foot in Shen Qingqiu's lap. "The socks have cupcakes on them. Cupcakes."

They were so teeny tiny. It would take him ages to sew on that many cupcakes by hand, and they wouldn't be anywhere near this neat and uniform. His memory of things like this really paled against the real thing. They were so cool. 

Shen Qingqiu ran his fingers over the fuzzy material, making an approving sound. "These are nice. Can I borrow them later?" 

"Only if you let me borrow your duck slippers," Shang Qinghua said. They quacked when you stepped anywhere with them. Quacked! 

Solid investment right there. 

What brought more joy than silly duck slippers? 

"Deal," Shen Qingqiu agreed, still rubbing a fuzzy cupcake. 

"I missed shorts like a motherfucker." 

"Same. T shirts are so comfy." 

"The comfiest." And only one layer. Way more convenient in the mornings. 

They both turned at the sound of a door sliding open, and oh, look who it was. Liu Qingge, hey. 

Shang Qinghua lifted a hand to invite him in, but the man turned bright red, from his ears down his neck and below his collar, turned around to leave, and walked into the doorframe. 

Which harmed the door more than him, to be honest. 

What was his problem? 

...oh. Right. They were kinda dressed like sluts right now. 

Too much ankle flashing and bare calves for poor Liu-shidi! 

Probably didn't help that Shang Qinghua was practically sitting in Shen Qingqiu's lap. 

"Liu-shidi~." 

Liu Qingge kept his eyes firmly shut, placing a hand over the upper portion of his face to preserve the dignity of both shixiongs. "This shidi should have knocked. He is leaving." 

"Have some pizza before you leave. Right, Shen-shixiong?" Shang Qinghua continued, unashamed at what he had been caught doing. 

"Liu-shidi, please try some pizza," Shen Qingqiu said. 

Liu Qingge hesitated. 

"What is peetsuh?" 

"It is a delicacy from our hometown. Shixiong is certain Liu-shidi will enjoy it," Shang Qinghua said. 

Liu Qingge accepted the short flat box pushed at him. 

"Thank you. Please get dressed. I'm leaving." 

"What did you need, Liu-shidi?" 

Shen Qingqiu had forgotten his fan at his house. It was nothing. "Shidi will return it later." 

Liu Qingge made his hasty retreat. 

Chapter Text

Boots with wheels. That was different. What would humans think of next? 

"My king," Shang Qinghua called out, gliding closer at an increasing speed. "This servant has-" He went around Mobei-Jun's right arm, then his back. He rolled back into his line of sight, going for another circle. "-some fun gifts to give his king. They are no treasures, but they are from his hometown. Would that be suitable?" 

Mobei-Jun didn't see why not. 

Anything Shang Qinghua wished to give him ought to be suitable. 

"En," Mobei-Jun answered, observing as the human circled him thrice more in rapid succession. 

When Shang Qinghua held out a hand, Mobei-Jun grabbed it, swinging him to a halt. 

"Ah, many thanks, my king. Many thanks." He flashed a bright smile at Mobei-Jun. 

His eyes widened briefly when Mobei-Jun moved his arm left then right, rolling the human back and forth. Mobei-Jun decided he rather liked these odd human boots. 

Shang Qinghua only laughed at this treatment, sending his heart aflutter with warmth. His smile would cause a lesser man to shield his eyes. What a loss that would be, to never see this human's smile or that flash of blunt teeth. 

Lovely. Too lovely. 

After pushing Shang Qinghua left and right another time, Mobei-Jun released his hand, so he might continue his gift giving. 

The human removed a qiankun pouch from his belt and shoved his arm inside, down to the elbow. He rustled around within before withdrawing, a larger set of boots with wheels appearing in his hand. The blue strings on them were tied together, cinching each boot to the other. 

"For my king. Please try them on," Shang Qinghua insisted. 

Mobei-Jun set a finger under the joined strings and lifted the boots up from the human's extended palms. He allowed them to sway before his eyes a moment before he acquiesced, moving to sit. 

Shang Qinghua collected his shoes as they came off, slipping them away into another pouch hanging from his belt. 

"Do they fit, my king? This one did his best to find the most accurate size for you." 

Mobei-Jun flexed his toes. These boots felt different from the sort he was accustomed to, but it was not unpleasant. The area beneath his soles was rather squishy but not unsettlingly so. 

"Fine," he decided. 

"Oh, excellent," Shang Qinghua murmured, ducking down to adjust Mobei-Jun's boots without prompting, deft fingers moving the strings around and around to form a blue bow. "All done. Let's stand up together." 

Mobei-Jun did not need to hold his hands to stand up, but his human wanted to hold hands. 

Holding hands with Shang Qinghua was pleasing. 

"Your balance is as impeccable as expected, haha. We should try ice skates next!" 

"That is?" 

"Shoes with a blade on the bottom. They help humans traverse icy bodies of water," the human explained. 

A blade? Convenient for taking out one's enemies even whilst occupied with a kick. 

Mobei-Jun approved. 

"We can do so," he agreed, earning a new smile. 

Shang Qinghua pulled him forward with each backward stroke of his wheeled boot. 

Mobei-Jun mimicked him, pressing ahead and shoving the human back. Shang Qinghua adjusted his grip on his hands, shifting their palms to press together and fingers to lace, and shoved him back, exerting force of his own. 

So that was how he wished to do this. 

What a playful mood his human was in. 

Mobei-Jun responded in kind, forcing the human to roll back across the stone floors. Shang Qinghua pushed back at him, sending them back the way they had come. Back and forth they continued. 

That was, until Junshang appeared. 

Luo Binghe opened his mouth. Stopped. Stared blankly at their footwear. 

He then unbuckled the sturdy straps holding Xin Mo's sheath in place and hurled it at Shang Qinghua. 

"That thing is giving me a headache. Play with it please, Shishu." 

Shang Qinghua released Mobei-Jun's hand to catch the sword, rolling off from the momentum. Mobei-Jun caught his elbow with his own hand, rolling him back to his side where he belonged. 

"Xiao Bao. Is that true? Why are you bullying Junshang?" 

Xin Mo vibrated angrily. 

Shang Qinghua pressed his lips to the hilt. A kiss there, a kiss here. 

"No, don't be a silly Xiao Bao. Luo-shizhi's plans of world domination are very important. You cannot bully him when you want to come see Baba now. Didn't I tell you this? Naughty child. Do I need to withhold kissies?" 

Xin Mo vibrated, but this time, it was an almost horrified vibration. 

"That's what Baba thought. Now don't do that, and Baba won't need to. Two days away from Baba isn't that long. We don't bully Luo-shizhi for no reason. Okay?" 

Luo Binghe grabbed Shang Qinghua by the opposite elbow, easily pulling both Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua along with a sharp tug. He walked briskly down the corridor. 

"Um? Luo-shizhi? Junshang? Luo-shizhi? Your eminence?" 

"Feed me," was all the boy said. 

Ah, a hungry son. 

Shang Qinghua would know best how to solve that issue. 

Mobei-Jun continued to roll along the stone floors, hand at his human's warm elbow, unbothered by this development. 

"Ah, not a problem, not a problem, Junshang! This subordinate is happy to feed his junshang any time of day. What is he hungry for? Any cravings? This shishu takes requests," Shang Qinghua offered without missing a beat. 

"No," Luo Binghe answered, voice dark with irritation. 

Shang Qinghua just nodded. 

"My king, please reach into this servant's second qiankun pouch. There is a shiny bar inside." 

Mobei-Jun complied. His human only had so many hands, after all. 

"This?" He held up a thin fragile feeling bar. It was smooth on the outside, but the innards felt bumpy. There were separate rectangles inside. 

"That is it. Thank you, my king. Junshang, please catch." 

Mobei-Jun tossed it across the distance, and Luo Binghe caught it, turning a glare down on the fragile item. 

"What is this, Shishu?" 

"If Junshang peels the shiny parts off, it has something tasty inside. It's called 'chocolate'. It is from Shang-shishu's hometown. It is not overly filling, but it should tide Luo-shizhi over until this shishu can cook a meal. There's some more to try later." 

Luo Binghe bit into a crinkled blue-brown edge and ripped the shiny wrapping off with his fangs. 

After chomping into a small brown rectangle, his face turned peculiar. The rest of the shiny wrapping hit the ground, and Luo Binghe shoved the entire bar into his mouth. His chewing was slow. 

There was a faint smile on his lips before it dropped, tongue flicking out to collect the food's residue. 

"Shishu has more?" 

"Yes, Shishu does." 

"Hm." 

They continued to roll toward the kitchens at a steady pace.