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Chapter Text

Luo Binghe waits patiently on a bench outside. People have been shooting him strange looks as they walk past ever since he got here. Granted, it’s out of the ordinary to see Luo Binghe not attached to Shen Qingqiu. A Luo Binghe without his shizun is as rare as an everbright carp without its whiskers: entirely unheard of. People are even more perturbed by it given the fact that he is not sitting outside Qing Jing Peak. Instead, he sits outside the halls of Qian Cao Peak in the small garden opposite the sect’s medical ward, basking in the warming sun.

He could do this in the demon realm, but even the most educated demons are lacking in their understandings of certain biologies. Despite his heavenly demon blood, his human aspects befuddle their sages and healers far more than the demonic elements of his being confuses humans. They ask far too many questions that he has no answer for, going so far as to kidnap human healers to aid their king. For a matter as delicate as this, he would rather be certain that it will take in a single attempt to avoid any accidents. Both components were hard to get without too many questions.

Two young disciples exit the building and catch sight of him, stopping in their tracks. Although they whisper, Luo Binghe can clearly hear their whispers.

“Why is he here?”

“I don’t know! Is Peak Lord Shen inside?”

“I didn’t see him there and I just finished a rotation.”

They shoot Luo Binghe another strange look as they hurry past. Luo Binghe just smiles and waves, making them scurry faster. He normally would feel bad about how so many on the mountain avoid him when he was once so close with so many, but today it doesn’t matter. Today there are more important matters like the two ceramic pots held in his hands.

Following behind the two is the person he’s been waiting for: Mu Qingfang. He walks outside and stops in the sun, staring up into the sky. He looks tired and overworked, yet still extraordinarily elegant. He looks as a peak lord should, even if he’s nowhere near as beautiful as Shizun. His fingers aren’t as delicate, his hair not as soft, his eyes duller and face rounder. Downright ugly compared to Luo Binghe’s husband.

Mu Qingfang pulls a small booklet from his sleeve, flipping through it for a moment before shoving it back inside and walking away. Luo Binghe watches him go, departing down the steep stone path towards the bridges that separate the peaks. He watches until he becomes as small as a pin prick before jumping to his feet and hurrying inside.

“I need to see Mu Qingfang,” Luo Binghe says to the highest ranked disciple closest the door. Immediately he stiffens and looks around to his peers who have miraculously all vanished into the shadows. 

“He- Shizun just left to meet with Sect Leader Yue. But if you want to wait I can–”

“No,” Luo Binghe says hiding his glee. This is exactly what he wanted to happen. “You’ll have to help me then.”

The disciple’s eyes go wide and he steps back away from Luo Binghe. “I- I wouldn’t dare. His majesty would get better care in his kingdom than in my hands.”

Luo Binghe clicks his tongue in disapproval. He knows he cuts an intimidating figure in the entryway. “It’s a matter of human biology and urgent. Come.”

The disciple has no choice but to follow Luo Binghe into the ward where Luo Binghe hands him the two ceramic pots explaining what they are and what they need to do to activate the most important part. Luo Binghe then departs to one of the patient rooms to get ready.

The poor head disciple stares at the two jars. His hands quiver in fear at the thought of what he's been told to do. He's utterly terrified of Luo Binghe and terrified of messing it up, and terrified of every aspect of the process.

In one ceramic jar is a thick fertility paste to be inserted into the recipient to allow him to grow a womb. In the other smaller jar is a…sample of Shen Qingqiu to inseminate him. How Luo Binghe got the sample doesn't matter. Clearly, the disciple thinks, if Luo Binghe has this sample then it must mean that the two have talked extensively about having a baby and somehow befuddlingly landed on Luo Binghe carrying it. That's as confusing as everything else to the poor young man. It seemed so obvious that the emperor's husband would.

Just as the disciple is resigning himself to his fate, his shimei approaches, saying, “You look worried, Song-shixiong. Is there something wrong?”

Without worrying about how much she will hate him for it later, he pushes the two jars and instructions into her hands and runs off, telling her to perform the procedure on Luo Binghe in the second clinical room while he goes to…do something. His lie is lost in how fast he gets the hell out of there.

She stares in horror at the two jars in her hands, not wanting to be the one to do that to the terrifying demon lord either. She doesn't even want to be in the same room as him. She certainly doesn't want to be alone with him caught between his legs. Just the thought sends a chill down her spine. 

She spots the next poor disciple under her approaching, and in a spark of desperate cruelty tells him to perform the procedure on the patient in the second clinical room before she darts away.

The young man, eager to perform his duties and delighted to be given an entirely new task, reads through the instructions before entering the second clinical room and seeing Luo Binghe naked from the waist down. He chokes and backs out of the room with a rasped, “It'll be another minute.” 

He just sees the disappointment on Luo Binghe's face at the wait before he shuts the door and stiffly marches away as fast as he can. 

“Shidi, you look like you've seen a ghost,” one of his shijie says as he scurries down the hall towards the exit quickly. 

“I- I don't know how to do my latest task.”

“Oh? I can help you figure it out.”

He shakes his head. “I don't want to do it at all.”

She looks down on him with pity. “If it's another flesh eating fungus you'll have to learn–” 

“No. I stopped fainting when I see that,” he says with embarrassment. “It's just, it's it's the  scary one showed up with this.” He shows her the two jars and crumpled instructions. She takes the paper and reads, her eyes growing wide. 

“I really don't want to do it,” he says. He knows she can see how scared he is of Luo Binghe and plays it up until she takes the two jars, promising he doesn't need to do it. With that he runs away. 

She takes the two jars with her, puffs herself up for what she's about to do, and enters the room of the scary one.

Liu Qingge has been waiting an unreasonable amount of time. He really should be at the Peak Lord meeting, but he just got back from another bout of travel and was struck by two problems that need to be dealt with right away. The first is a low grade papapa pollen that he could get rid of himself but is easier to be given an antidote to clear it from his system immediately. The second is more of a problem. He got sprayed by a maiden’s dream flower on his way back and is struggling to stay awake for bursts of more than an hour. Already he couldn't help falling asleep in the room he was told to wait in, and when the disciple who enters holding a tray walks in and greets him he jerks awake and answers coldly, merely saying, “Hurry up and get on with it. I have places to be,” shutting down her questions.

She mentally agrees that the dubbing the scary one indeed is the correct way to describe Liu Qingge as she tells him to place his legs wide and settles between his thighs, unlidding the first of the two jars.

“Does that hurt?” she asks after applying the first paste, she pressed a hand on his lower stomach where warmth emigrated from all the blood pooling there to grow a new organ in a matter of seconds. 

“No,” Liu Qingge replies. He leans up, his face a little red. “Can I go now?”

“There's one more. This one just takes a moment.”

Liu Qingge lays back down and closes his eyes. Every few seconds his breathing hitches he shifts uncomfortable from what he can only assume is the pollen.  After around twenty seconds he snaps his eyes open again. He snaps, “Are you going to do something about this or not?”

She hurries along with the rest of the insemination, not wanting to face the wrath of the terrifying man. As Liu Qingge dresses, she warns him he may feel some fatigue in the coming days and huffs. She also advises him to tell Shen Qingqiu about it, to which she gets a weird look as Liu Qingge grabs his sword and marches out. 

Job successfully completed despite how scary Liu Qingge is, she gathers her materials and leaves the room brimming with pride in herself. Across the hall from Liu Qingge's room, the door opens and a head pops out. The disciple nearly drops her tray in terror.

Lou Binghe looks around with big eyes and upturned eyebrows in worry that could flicker to domineering anger in a second. He spots her holding the jars on a tray and with a large, clawed hand waves her over.

She's shaking in her approach.

“Those are mine,” he says. It might be a question or a statement. Either way, it makes her knees nearly buckle. She stumbles over her attempts to say anything as Luo Binghe withdraws into the room, beckoning her in too. He's done waiting. 

She looks around the hall wishing anyone to show up and rescue her but no one does. Between the two terrifying patients, no one dares come near. Everyone else has heard of the two in opposite rooms and she was the only idiot not to have known. She swears that she's never helping anyone ever again as she closes the door behind her and pulls the stool over to where Luo Binghe lays.

She already used all of the ointment from the first jar. The instructions said the more is used the quicker the womb will grow and higher chances of success. Given Liu Qingge is so impatient, she of course used it all. 

Hands shaking, she creates a subtle handseal to create water to apply to Luo Binghe. Like with Liu Qingge she places her hand on his lower stomach, but this time she circulates her energy so it feels warm to him. She holds her breath the whole time she works and he won't think she's faked the whole procedure having accidentally done it to the wrong scary man. 

The moment she's done she flees the room. She flees the peak grabbing the first far away assignment she can on the board of missions. She's not coming back until at least a year has passed. All she can do is hope that Liu Qingge does not get pregnant since he rushed the procedure so much. And if he does, well, that's her shizun's problem for not banning Luo Binghe from the peak.

Shen Qingqiu leaves the Peak Lords meeting feeling bright. It’s been several weeks since he attended one of these meetings and he has rather missed the affairs of Cang Qiong Mountain. Luo Binghe has been insisting they travel more than usual recently. He can’t help but worry that something is on Binghe’s mind making him feel lonely or neglected to spark his want to travel so much just the two of them. He granted his husband the wish, indulging every desire his heart could settle on… except for a few. Only when certain his husband has been properly dotted on and received the correct number of headpats and had enough tears wiped from his cheeks and he himself had eaten an adequate amount of Luo Binghe’s delicious cooking while looking out at the beach landscape they established their replica bamboo house on, did he decide it was time to return home to check in.

Shen Qingqiu lingers after the Peak Lords meeting to talk with Mu Qingfang for a while. While traveling Shen Qingqiu caught and was subsequently bitten by a strange snake. Shen Qingqiu thought the bite was fine while Luo Binghe insisted on sultrily sucking the poison out of his shin before working his way higher and higher on his leg until he was sucking his dick. And then of course Binghe pointed out that the snake is the same shape as his heavenly pillar so of course they need to make sure there was no aphrodisiac poison in its venom and one thing lead to another with Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe having sex on the beach as waves crashed over them in what Shen Qingqiu could only describe as involving a highly unpleasant amount of sand but an adorably affectionate husband to make up for any chafing.

Mu Qingfang listens to the highly abridged version of the story with mild interest. He takes a long sip of a peach nectar that Liu Qingge’s disciple brought to the meeting as an apology that his shizun would be delayed. When he swallows he says, “There’s no reason why a snake would induce a frenzied state like that. Your husband doesn’t know a single thing about human nervous systems and barely understands spiritual energy. Even if there was something in the snake’s venom, it would be a small enough dosage that your spiritual energy would be able to clear it. It’s the plant pollen that you inhale that should always be a cause for alarm.”

Shen Qingqiu feels vindicated as he nods along agreeing with him. That’s what he told Binghe too, but Luo Binghe was so worried about him that he started sobbing on the beach while sucking his dick, and how could Shen Qingqiu ruin the beautiful sunset like that by letting Luo Binghe cry?

“Or spiders,” Mu Qingfang suddenly says after another sip. “Spiders can induce such states. And some frogs, if you lick them. And don’t forget about the horny newt. It likes dark, wet places including human–”

“I know about those,” Shen Qingqiu says eagerly, remembering a passage from the original novel. Mu Qingfang gives him an unimpressed look and says, “I don’t want to think about how many disciples of the mountain we’ve had to confiscate such newts from.”

Shen Qingqiu snaps his fan open to hide his embarrassment when he realizes what it sounds like he meant he's experienced them. He simply replies, “I’ve never encountered one personally. I just thought I should know what they are. Especially after…” After a recent serialization of Regret of Chunshan. He quickly changes the subject, asking, “How have things been on Qiong Cao Peak? The Immortal Alliance Conference is approaching again, isn’t it? Are any of your disciples entering?”

The two fall into easy conversation. Yue Qingyuan who has been finishing with his after meeting notes at the head of the table joins them as they discuss the upcoming conference. With it being only eight months away, it’s time to begin focusing on training disciples for it.

Yue Qingyuan ends up walking Shen Qingqiu back to Qing Jing Peak. Shen Qingqiu is about to invite him to stay for tea when he sees Luo Binghe standing in the distance by the pond entirely alone. He’s been patient not getting into any fights while Shen Qingqiu attended the peak lords meeting, and will have to be patient again this evening when Shen Qingqiu meets with disciples for small group lessons. He should give him the afternoon. He closes his conversation with the sect leader by promising to stay a few weeks before he and Binghe depart again.

Luo Binghe stands alone at the edge of the water caught in a staring contest with a giant frog half out of the water when Shen Qingqiu approaches. He hears his husband but doesn't turn around. Instead, he waits for Shen Qingqiu to summon him. It's cute how he does this. He often finds Shen Qingqiu in dreams and lurks at the edges until he's called out into the open. There he bounds forward to tackle his poor old husband in his arms and pepper him with messy kisses. 

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu calls. Just like he expects, Luo Binghe abandons his staring contest to run to his husband. Shen Qingqiu just manages to snap his fan open before Luo Binghe covers him in kisses. He lowers it just enough to plant one on Binghe's lips. Any more can wait until they're in the privacy of the bamboo house.

“What did you do today?” Shen Qingqiu says, taking Luo Binghe's hand to make double sure he didn't stumble into a fistfight with someone from Bai Zhan Peak. His hands are smooth and unbloodied. He was a good boy today, deserving of a head pat which Shen Qingqiu gives.

“This husband started baking something extra special for Shizun,” Luo Binge replies. He wraps his arms around Shen Qingqiu’s waist and rests his chin on his shoulder so they can look out at the calm dark water together. 

“Mn,” Shen Qingqiu hums. “Is that what I smell?”

“No, that's something else I'm cooking for you,” Luo Binghe replies. “Liu-shishu brought back those blackened water chestnuts Shizun is partial to, so I'm making an entire meal to suit them.”

Shen Qingqiu’s mouth waters at the thought. He doesn't even need to know what specifically Luo Binghe is making. 

“We should invite Liu-shidi to eat with us then.”

Luo Binghe's fingers tighten around his waist and replies with a terse, “No.”

Right. Binghe is still protective over his cooking and who gets to eat it. And rightfully so, anyone who eats it will certainly walk away stuffed full with a small food baby in their stomachs and utterly in love with the protagonist. Seeing as how Luo Binghe isn't getting anyone pregnant, food babies are as close as he'll get and not everyone will have said honor.

Shen Qingqiu drops his head so his cheek rests against Luo Binghe's temple. “He can dine with us another day.”

He can feel Luo Binghe's smile.

They stay out talking for only a little longer, long enough for shadow to cast over the giant frog and it to duck below the surface of the water. Shen Qingqiu can't help but feel like Luo Binghe has something on his mind while they talk, and he knows he does when he stumbles on the doorframe, tripping and almost falling flat on his face if Shen Qingqiu wasn't ready to catch him. He's only ever so clumsy when he has something serious on his mind.

He tries to cleverly pry thoughts or worries from his husband over dinner, but Luo Binghe is too focused on indulgently piling food onto Shen Qingqiu’s plate with the expectation of a kiss after each time he assists him. 

After they're done eating, Shen Qingqiu sits expectantly waiting for dessert to be delivered before him. That has to be what the something special that Luo Binghe talked about baking. He almost has his hopes up that his husband stumbled on a tome with the recipe for cheesecake or some other modern delicacy that he hasn't tasted in years. 

Luo Binghe doesn't deliver an extravagant cake to him. Instead, he pushes Shen Qingqiu’s thighs apart to stand between them, reaching out to place Shen Qingqiu’s delicate hand on his own stomach.

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe starts. His voice is lower and slower than usual, edging on sultry but not quite. “Husband…”

“Do you have a stomach ache?” Shen Qingqiu asks in concern, automatically starting to gently rub his stomach. Maybe this is why he isn't bringing out whatever he baked special for them to share tonight. “Go lay down and I can help massage it out.”

“I don't have a stomachache, but I do have something else in there.”

Shen Qingqiu nods knowingly. He must have picked up a parasite on that beach trip. “Have you talked to Mu Qingfang?”

Luo Binghe smiles down at him, showing off his sharp little fangies. “Not him, but one of his disciples.”

“What kind?” He asks. He keeps gently rubbing Binghe's stomach feeling sorry for the poor protagonist but thankful that for once it wasn't him who gets the short end of the stick. 

“We won't know for a few months.”

“A few months!” Shen Qingqiu yelps. What the hell kind of parasite takes a few months to even know what it is. He jumps to his feet. “No. We're going back now.”

Luo Binghe wraps Shen Qingqiu in his arms. “I knew Shizun would be excited!”

“I'm not excited about you having a parasite, Binghe!”

Luo Binghe's eyes widen and fill with tears immediately. Shen Qingqiu is horrified. He's missing something, clearly, if Binghe is crying. He cups his face in his hands and wipes away his tears, comforting, “It's okay, Binghe. We'll get this parasite taken care of.”

It doesn't help. Luo Binghe's tears redouble. He's on the verge of ugly crying, which he's only fallen into twice before. Shen Qingqiu is actually starting to panic now.

“Does Shizun not love me anymore?”

“What? No! No no no Binghe. I love you of course I love you. No parasite could make me not love you!” He pulls his husband downwards to give him a kiss to quell his tears. “What's wrong? What happened? Why would you think I don't?”

Luo Binghe sniffles. “You said our baby was a parasite.”

Shen Qingqiu brushes back more shining tears. “I didn't– our what?”

“Our baby,” Binghe repeats. He nuzzles his head against Shen Qingqiu’s palm, the suspicious tears quickly drying.

Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widen in horror. The protagonist can't be pregnant so… “How- how did you put a baby in me, Binghe?”

“I didn't,” Lou Binghe says. He pulls Shen Qingqiu's hand back down to his own stomach. Relief and horror commingle in Shen Qingqiu’s brian. “Is Shizun mad?”

“I- No.” Shen Qingqiu assures seeing Binghe is already on the verge of tears again. He's just a little shocked at his husband suddenly being pregnant. That's all. Binghe is his little parasite and of course he couldn't be mad. He just didn't think Binghe wanted kids seeing as the original was never fond of them unless it served the plot. And he can't understand how it happened. He lightly taps Binghe on the forehead with his fan making him scrunch his face and subside his tears. And then He hits him on the forehead harder so that it makes a loud cracking noise and leaves a red mark. 

“Is that why you wanted to have sex this morning despite almost breaking my hips last night?!”

The guilty look Luo Binghe gives is answer enough. 

Well. At least he knows it'll be his.

Shen Qingqiu relays the whole story to Shang Qinghua over tea a week later, including the news that Luo Binghe is not pregnant. He seems to have bought a scam product that never worked at all. He saves that for the end though, enjoying the way Shang Qinghua's face twists in horror at the idea of a pregnant demon emperor.

“Why did you even put shit like that in your super straight stallion novel?” He asks exasperated. 

“I dunno,” Shang Qinghua replies. “Maybe I knew deep down that one day Cucumber Bro would transmigrate into my super straight stallion novel and make it super not straight and would need it to get knocked up.”

Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes and grumbles. Shang Qinghua leans in with a grin, cupping his ear to jokingly tease “What's that? I didn't quite hear you.”

“I said,” Shen Qingqiu replies speaking obnoxiously loud right in Shang Qinghua's ear. “That if Binghe knows about it Mobei Jun probably does too so you better hope he doesn't want any little icicles running around the Northern Palace.”

That shuts Shang Qinghua up. He turns sheet white and says, “That won't happen.”

“How are you so sure?”

“Because I wrote him and I know in his heart he hates children.”

Shen Qingqiu scoffs. “You wrote Binghe straight.”

“The comments wrote Luo Binghe straight. I wrote him as not caring about that until it became profitable for him to fuck around. Thankfully the comments were never fond of my king and no amount of money could ever sway me to sway him.”

“Well, Binghe cares a lot so you're heartless.”

“And you're lucky you don't have a baby in you right now. Seriously? He wanted to be the pregnant one? I swear he'd have wanted you to be.”

Shen Qingqiu thwaps him hard over the head with his fan, hissing like a spooked cat demanding to know what literature he's been reading to think such a thing, even if Shen Qingqiu himself had the same exact thought. 

–

Liu Qingge has not been feeling well. It began around a month ago and, although the ill feeling has waxed and waned through the days, something has undeniably felt off. He's been on the Peak more than usual and working with disciples more than he’s used to. The Immortal Alliance Conference is in several months and while he knows his disciples will do well enough to not care about how they train, Shen Qingqiu is obviously anxious about the event after what happened to Luo Binghe all those years ago, so Liu Qingge has been dedicating large swaths of time to training Shen Qingqiu’s disciples in addition to his own to ease his fellow peak lord’s worries.

As he trains disciples of his own peak and others, throwing teenager after teenager off the high battle platform on the training field, he can’t help how his mind wanders through his body when another wave of ill-feeling strikes. His qi feels fine. In fact, his qi feels strong moving through his spiritual veins. He is nowhere near qi deviation. He doesn’t feel like he’s about to throw up blood.

He does, however, feel like he’s about to throw up.

Liu Qingge slams his palm into another disciple’s stomach, sending the girl flying backwards with an outcry of shock. He doesn’t wait for another disciple to replace her. He issues a snapped demand at the oldest disciples to continue teaching before leaving the training fields.

He hasn’t been nauseous in years. Not since before he joined the sect, when he was a mere six years old and took a long, bumpy boat ride with his sister to visit an aunt. In the subsequent years he has felt many discomforts but this has not been one of them.

He gets out of view of the training fields before he stops. He leans one hand against a tree to balance himself as he combats his body’s urges. He feels hot and sweaty. Light headed. He feels as though he’s in battle with a demon that he barely manages to suppress. 

None of this will do.

At a run, Liu Qingge traverses the rainbow bridge from Bai Zhan Peak to Qiong Ding Peak. There is no use returning to Qian Cao Peak given he started feeling mildly ill shortly after visiting. He blames the disciple who saw him, who was clearly too incompetent given how flustered she was. Clearly Mu Qingfang is not properly training his disciples if they didn’t adequately clear his body of the pollens leaving him unaware that he must do it himself. Therefore, Liu Qinnge is best off to tend to himself to begin with. He only got into the habit of going to others at Shen Qingqiu’s insistence that he not be a lone stone in a stormy sea anyways. And Shen Qingqiu has been on and off the mountain frequently enough that he won’t find out if Liu Qingge feels mildly ill. It's not like he's going to meet him for tea any sooner than a few days.

He crosses the rainbow bridge and marches directly to Yue Qingyuan’s offices. As soon as the disciple from An Ding Peak helping organize files sees him, the young man bows deeply, ducking his head and asking, “What does Peak Lord Liu need?”

“Why are you here?” He asks instead of answering. One of Shang Qinghua's weakling disciples won't help him. 

“I was sent to help sort reports from–”

“That doesn't matter. Where's Yue-zhangmen?”

The disciple points towards the study Yue Qingyuan often resides in. It's a beautiful study overlooking the chasms below, allowing its occupants to watch the seasons changing through the flowers and trees, or else idle the morning and evenings studying the fog rolling through the mountain peaks. The room itself sits over a vein of spiritual energy in the mountain stone, emboldening its occupants. Liu Qingge is fond of this room if for no other reason than the many times he sat idly by the window while listening to Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan speaking, vaguely wondering what changed in Shen Qingqiu to make him an entirely new man and not thinking about what new feelings this new man evokes.

He doesn't knock. His habit of storming into rooms isn't as bad as it was in the past, but another wave of light headedness rises from his stomach telling him not to waste time with frivolous things like knocking. He would like to hurry up and make his way to the spiritual caves.

Yue Qingyuan is sitting by one of the floor to ceiling windows looking out at it, watching a small flock of yellow birds flapping about a tree branch outside the window. He watches them pensive, tangled in whatever thoughts draw weary lines over the perpetually handsome face.

The worry vanishes the moment he sees Liu Qingge and he pushes himself upright with a bright, “Liu-shidi, I wasn't expecting you or I'd have made another cup–”

His words are cut off in shock as the lightheadedness overpowers Liu Qingge's sheer force of will and the man stumbles and passes out on the plush carpet.

–

Liu Qingge lays in his bed, his eyes closed. He’s barely conscious and utterly exhausted. Wiped out.

The faint memory of going to Yue Qingyuan to request access to the spiritual caves returns to him and he squeezes his eyes shut harder trying to remember if he qi deviated. He doesn't remember any of the signs he would beyond feeling light headed. And nausea. And fatigued. And despite being strong, his qi feeling slightly off. But none of that should have been enough to incite a qi deviation in someone like him. A lesser cultivator maybe, but not him.

The door opens and voices whisper back and forth. They're just low hums, indistinct. They don’t really matter. It’s just Mu Qingfang talking to Yue Qingyuan about his qi deviation. They’ve all done this before. It’s not all that uncommon for a peak lord to suffer a qi deviation and the others to gather. It’s become a strange ritual ever since Shen Qingqiu’s massive qi deviation. Within a few hours he’ll have rested, resettled himself and be back on his feet training disciples for the Immortal Alliance Conference. Or perhaps he’ll take a reprieve from the mountain and go find someone to fight. The problem with seeking combatants is after so many years of fighting Luo Binghe, no one else proves an interesting fight. Even if he got his ass kicked again and again, now that he’s no longer fighting for Shen Qingqiu’s…body… he almost misses having someone to push his abilities. He knows that if they had only another few battles, he would have won permanently.

Perhaps that’s the cause of his qi deviation. It’s Luo Binghe’s fault. For the last several years everything has been boring. Boring is good as long as Shen Qingqiu is alive and well, but no matter how much he travels there is no one that can beat him aside from Luo Binghe, and Shen Qingqiu has made it clear that they can’t fight anymore. Apparently, Shen Qingqiu thinks that they might end up killing each other by accident (on purpose given the brutality and lack of control of his demon husband). 

It would make sense if it was Luo Binghe’s fault. Whenever he sees the husbands together a strange, unidentifiable feeling that is unnerving to experience passes through his chest.

Liu Qingge rolls in the bed debating the merits of demanding the others out, or just letting them be and ignoring them.

He ends up falling asleep almost instantly before a decision can be made.

He wakes again to the door opening once more and Yue Qingyuan saying, “I’m sorry we had to summon you on such short notice, Shen-shidi.”

Immediately Liu Qingge is sitting up and pulling the covers off himself to get out of bed. At the entryway to the room, Shen Qingqiu stands looking as elegant as ever, although perhaps a little ruffled from his travels with a thin line of worry on his scholarly face.

“No, it’s good you summoned me. What’s going on?” Shen Qingqiu asks. He snaps his fan open and closed in his hand, a beam of golden light casting in through the window onto his long delicate fingers contrasting the dark wood. Liu Qingge knows this fan well. Five times now he’s returned it to him when he’s dropped it. It's one among many he loses. He’s held that fan in his own fingers and knows how smooth the polished wood is yet how it catches when you try to close it quickly.

“Just a qi deviation,” Liu Qingge replies flatly from inside the room. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes lock onto him in surprise that he’s awake. Clearly Mu Qingfang told his shixiong that it was worse than it was when he summoned Shen Qingqiu back to the mountain, and the man thought he'd be unconscious for longer. Another point against Mu Qingfang for any future care.

“Ah,” Yue Qingyuan inhales sharply at Liu Qingge’s determination to get out of bed. He reaches out a hand and pulls it back.

Shen Qingqiu doesn't hold the same reservations as the sect leader. He hurries across the room to Liu Qingge with his feet dangling off the bed to blindly feel for slippers. Another wave of lightheadedness passes over him, slowing his rise to his feet.

“Let me help you,” Shen Qingqiu says snatching up the slippers and catching Liu Qingge's foot.

“I'm not incapacitated,” Liu Qingge says. He would reach downwards to take the slipper but it's easier to lay back down as another wave of faintness passes over him. “It was just a qi deviation.”

“Even so, Liu-shidi,” Shen Qingqiu says. There's an authority in his voice that teases with worry and an attempt at remaining aloof that tugs at Liu Qingge’s chest.

“About that,” Mu Qingfang says. “I'm afraid the matter is more complicated than a qi deviation.”

Shen Qingqiu’s surprise matches Liu Qingge's, although Liu Qingge is better at hiding it than Shen Qingqiu now he only has a slipper in his hand rather than delicate fan to snap open and hide behind.

“Well?” Liu Qingge demands when Mu Qingfang doesn't immediately continue. Mu Qingfang looks to the sect leader before stepping forward properly. 

“The reason you passed out is actually because you're pregnant.”

“Bullshit.”

The moment he says it, Shen Qingqiu’s hands fly to his mouth, using using slipper to hide behind. No one in the room takes notice of his foreign exclamation because everyone's eyes are locked onto Liu Qingge in search of his reaction. 

His reaction is simple: “That's not possible.”

“Unfortunately, Liu-shidi,” Yue Qingyuan starts. “We all know that it's possible.”

Mu Qingfang says, “It's a rare occurrence that needs to be induced, but it's very possible.”

Shen Qingqiu tries to look composed but his confusion seeps through. 

“I'm not pregnant not because I can't be,” Liu Qingge says as though the three men in the room have suffered a qi deviation and not him. “I can't be pregnant because I–”  His eyes catch Shen Qingqiu and his ears grow warm in a rare fit of unprovoked embarrassment. “Because I've never had sex.”

“Ah,” Mu Qingfang exhales and Liu Qingge deems the matter dealt with. He shoots Mu Qingfang a withering glance before snatching the slipper from Shen Qingqiu. What he does or does not do is not the business of anyone present. 

“Liu-shidi,” Yue Qingyuan says stepping forward. “Investigate your own spiritual energy. We're not lying.”

Determined to prove them all wrong, Liu Qingge turns his attention inwards and…

And…

And Shen Qingqiu grabs his wrist, his long fingers wrapping around to land against his pulse so he may feel it too. It settles something in Liu Qingge at the same time as making his heart spike. Sure enough, that minor irregularity to his spiritual energy is present. Liu Qingge’s eyes flare open at the three men in the room. He didn't think it was something else's spiritual energy mingling with his because why would he?

Seeing he finally understands, Mu Qingfang says, “There are many ways to proceed with this. Your cultivation could do away with it in a simple whim. But there is the matter of,” his gaze darts to Shen Qingqiu kneeling by the bed next to Liu Qingge, hand still wrapped around his wrist. “The… other… contributor.”

There's an awkward silence in the room that lasts all of a heartbeat. Shen Qingqiu looks around clearly confused why he's here. He thought he was coming merely to be with his shidi after a qi deviation. 

With no one else speaking, Mu Qingfang has to explain further. Liu Qingge assumes he’s here because he’s one of the few people he seems to get along with and despite being peers, Mu Qingfang is scared of Liu Qingge.

Mu Qingfang starts, “Around a month ago, Luo Binghe–”

Shen Qingqiu falls into a coughing fit. 

Liu Qingge's heart rate spikes. He can fathom that somehow he stumbled across something that would accidentally let him get pregnant by holding hands or something ridiculous. He cannot fathom Luo Binghe being the one to sire any offspring. Ever. The two avoid each other since being banned from fighting. They haven't even fought in recent months.

He interrupts, “That's impossible.”

“If you let me finish,” Mu Qingfang continues. He's looking straight at Shen Qingqiu. “I was going to say he came in with an unknown request that scared one of my disciples into prolonged world travel. We couldn’t figure out what made her leave, but reviewing the records, it seems he came in for something about pregnancy.”

Everyone looks at Shen Qingqiu, who, despite his best efforts is bright red.

“Now. That being said, we don't believe it's his. We actually think it's Shen-shixiong's.”

Everything in the room goes cold at the pronouncement. The red in Shen Qingqiu’s cheeks mounts into a vivid crimson. His eyes are wide and dart back and forth as they sometimes do.  Despite this, Liu Qingge still does not believe any of it in the slightest. He just had a qi deviation. Or a cold. Something that would impair his pulse. He hasn’t done a single thing that would cause Shen Qingqiu or anyone else to get him pregnant.

“That’s why we asked you to be here, Shen-shixiong,” Yue Qingyuan says. He still stands back, remaining at the center of the room as a presence but not a key member of the discussion.“We wanted to compare your spiritual energy to make sure.”

Liu Qingge gets up making everyone tense. He walks past everyone to the door which he holds open in a most obvious gesture to leave before he decides to settle the matter with fists. 

With the finality of a fist through the wall, Liu Qingge says, “I’m not pregnant and this matter is over.” 

Every single person’s expression disagrees but no one says a word.

Mu Qingfang leaves first. As he passes Liu Qingge, he stops and says, “I would encourage you to come to the peak to make sure.”

Liu Qingge remains resolute in his denial.

Shen Qingqiu leaves next, telling Liu Qingge he’s glad he isn’t ill before scurrying away, muttering a string of strange expletives under his breath.

Yue Qingyuan remains in the room. He paces around the perimeter, stopping to look out the window before admiring the knicknacks that Liu Qingge has collected over the years. Once, his room was barren but now it stores all sorts of trinkets from his travels. Many were bought when Shen Qingqiu was faking his death, and although they were intended to be gifts Liu Qingge ended up keeping them. He’s not one to grow fond of things, but he has grown fond of them.

Yue Qingyuan picks up a small lone cat figure and turns it in his hand.

“This is interesting.”

“It’s porcelain.”

“Mn,” Yue Qingyuan turns it back to look at the cat face before setting it back down. “It looks expensive.” He turns back to face Liu Qingge by the door, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side in curiosity as though Liu Qingge is a strange cat-like creature with claws and jaws that could attack at any moment.

“You know Mu-shidi isn’t wrong,” Yue Qingyuan says. 

Liu Qingge knows.

“And you know that it’s Shen Qingqiu’s.” He continues. “When you were unconscious, I felt it in your pulse too. I know the markers of his spiritual energy well and would never mistake it.”

Liu Qingge knows that too.

“You can discuss anything with m–”

“Absolutely not.” Liu Qingge cuts him off. Yue Qingyuan nods and passes through the door. He gives Liu Qingge one more look before continuing down the hall to where Mu Qingfang is in discussion with Yang Yixuan. Liu Qingge watches them a moment before closing the door. 

—

Shen Qingqiu holds his breath walking back to the bamboo cabin where Luo Binghe sits at the window with his head peering out like a dog awaiting its owner to get home. He’s decided not to tell Luo Binghe yet. There is no reason to tell him before anything is confirmed or decided. He can only imagine Binghe’s tangle of emotions at finding out that not only did he not get pregnant, but that Liu Qingge is pregnant with Shen Qingqiu’s baby.

Unfortunately for Shen Qingqiu, this is an inalienable fact. The system oh so delightfully decided to inform him of his new “achievement” at the same time as it was revealed to Liu Qingge. Stupid fucking system in this stupid pervy world that lets stupid men get other stupid men pregnant. Couldn’t even give him a heads up that he unknowingly got a man pregnant.

Binghe comes running outside to meet his husband with a honey–sweet “Shizun!” and an embrace almost as sticky given that Luo Binghe doesn’t let him go and instead walks back inside attached to Shen Qingqiu’s back. Shen Qingqiu’s swears that if Luo Binghe lost both his legs, there would be little difference in how much the man hangs off him. He’s always clinging to Shen Qingqiu.

Not that he’s bothered by it. He’s grown used to it, accustomed to it even, to the point where it feels weird to walk and not feel Luo Binghe toying with his fingers trying to interlock their hands. 

“Was Liu-shishu okay?” He asks leaning over Shen Qingqiu to rest his chin on his shoulder. His fingers run along the folds of Shen Qingqiu’s robes until they can slip under the first layer.

“It's…unclear.”

Luo Binghe makes a sad sound of disappointment having wanted to pack up and leave again for a while.

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu says turning around the moment they're through the door. “I told you I wanted to stay and help disciples train for the Immortal Alliance competition.” He pushes Luo Binghe's bangs back to press his lips against his forehead when he sees those eyes starting to glisten. “Just a few weeks, and then we can go wherever you want.”

Somehow, Binghe seems to accept the answer, even if he somehow becomes stickier to Shen Qingqiu in the passing days.

—

It takes Liu Qingge more than a handful of days to fully admit to the fact that he’s pregnant. He paces around. He debates. He contemplates. He meditates and goes to find someone to fight just to fight before something clicks in his head. 

He pulls on his boots and marches out of his house, over the rainbow bridge, and straight to the bamboo house that Shen Qingqiu lives in with Luo Binghe. It's mostly the same as ever. In some ways it's a little more run down simply by not having anyone living in it and only have disciples tend to it over the span of months to two travel. In other ways it's far more luxurious. While present, Luo Binghe doesn't often leave the bamboo house and therefore spends his time improving it. The garden flourishes. The pond is alive with frogs and flowers. And the air is heavy with the scent of something delicious floating through the open window from the house. It makes Liu Qingge's stomach growl loudly upon his approach and an ill fated need to eat whatever the demon husband is cooking.

He refuses the hunger wholly, not wanting to admit that this might be what a craving feels like.

He knocks on the door. 

Luo Binghe opens it. 

“What?” Luo Binghe demands, inflating himself against Liu Qingge to block the interior. All that can get by him is a wall of that delicious scent. 

“I'm here for Shen Qingqiu.”

Luo Binghe squares himself in the door even more, making himself seem larger and more menacing. “No.”

“Go get him.”

Luo Binghe’s hand grips the doorframe tight enough his knuckles are white. He leans inward and bares his teeth at Liu Qingge, his demon mark flaring. “No.”

Liu Qingge's hand automatically flies to his sword in a force of habit. How many times has this exact situation played out? And how many times did he lose, be forced to watch the demon cradle his shixiong's limp body? 

Liu Qingge prepares himself to lunge forward and force his way inside.

Luo Binghe bristles, itching to fight but unwilling to make the first attack.

Shen Qingqiu walks past the window shoveling food into his mouth. Mid-chew he spots Liu Qingge and brightens, hurrying to the door and nudging Luo Binghe aside saying, “Binghe don't just make him stand out here. Let him. You have good timing shidi, I just poured tea.”

Just like that, Luo Binghe takes his first loss to Liu Qingge, forced to grant him access to Shen Qingqiu against his will. Even if it wasn't a battle, Liu Qingge can't help the smugness as he crosses the threshold into the bamboo house. Luo Binghe shuts the door behind him, but Liu Qingge is already seated at the table with Shen Qingqiu, back to Luo Binghe as though he’s a child once more.. 

Liu Qingge doesn’t waste any time. He looks Shen Qingqiu straight in the eye and asks, “Do you want it?”

Shen Qingqiu’s mouth drops open in shock at the question so openly asked without any preamble or warning. Luo Binghe stands behind his husband to glower down at Liu Qingge, and intensifies his glower to scare him off when he is ignored. 

“What does he have?” Luo Binghe asks, wary of what new gift Liu Qingge has brought for Shen Qingqiu. Liu Qingge’s gifts have a habit of stealing Shen Qingqiu’s precious attention, something Luo Binghe can barely bring himself to endure only because it makes his husband happy to get this new pet or that new pottery from farther than Luo Binghe has gotten to travel while glued to his husband’s side. He can bring home presents too– they just aren’t surprises because Shizun is always with him!! “Shizun, what does he have?”

“He…” Shen Qingqiu starts and stops. He reaches for his fan at the corner of the table, but his fingers knock it off in an inadvertent jerk. Immediately Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge duck to grab the fan. Liu Qingge has the advantage of proximity and snatches it from Luo Binghe’s fingers to pass it back to its proper owner, sliding it over the table around the meal to him.

“Thanks,” Shen Qingqiu says. He’s not looking at Liu Qingge but at Luo Binghe. A strange expression twists his face.

Liu Qingge cocks his head and asks, “You didn’t tell him?”

“Not yet.”

Luo Binghe’s eyes grow wide. “What didn’t you tell me?” He deflates entirely, his enraged puff flattening to make him somehow look small and pathetic with big round eyes, like a puppy thrown into a lake. It'd almost be funny how pathetic he looks at learning a secret exists hidden from him to anyone except Liu Qingge. 

Shen Qingqiu cups Luo Binghe’s hands in his and evenly says, “Remember when you took that medicine to Qian Cao Peak? Well, the reason it didn’t…” He coughs lightly into his hand. Phrasing it delicately, he continues, “take… was because there was a mix up.”

It takes Luo Binghe a moment to process before realization dawns on him and his head snaps around to face Liu Qingge, malevolent killing energy radiating off of him as he snarls and reaches for a sword. “You thief! Hussy baby thief!! HOMEWRECKER THIEF!!” Luo Binghe barks loudly, baring his teeth ready to fight.

Liu Qingge matches, summoning his own into his hand and flinging himself out of the seat. Oh how he's been itching to fight a matched combatant and Luo Binghe is just the person he wants to destroy most right now. 

“Stop it.” Shen Qingqiu scolds before they can exchange even a single blow. He thwaps Luo Binghe over the head with his fan and says, “It's your hair brained idea that got us into this mess so no fighting. You two are going to get along. Period. No fighting.”

That's all it takes to make Luo Binghe release his weapon, letting it clatter to the floor. Liu Qingge isn't as foolish as to do the same knowing the demon has something else up his sleeve.

The something else is something Liu Qingge has no hope of matching: tears. His eyes grow big and round and fill with tears and draw Shen Qingqiu to him like a siren's song. His face contorts, scrunched and turning red as he drops to his knees and buries himself in Shen Qingqiu’s waist, sobbing that Liu Qingge stole their baby. 

“I did not!” Liu Qingge barks at him, raising his sword wanting to fight instead of watching a grown man sob. “You’re the one who did this.”

“He really isn’t at fault, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu assures with a stroke of Binghe’s hair and pat on the head.

Lou Binghe pokes his head around Shen Qingqiu’s waist and shoots him an ugly expression that says while he had to yield to let Liu Qingge inside, Liu Qingge did not win. Not as long as he's crying and Shen Qingqiu is trying to coax him back from tears. 

Absolutely vile to manipulate such a noble man like Shen Qingqiu with ugly alligator tears. Liu Qingge should rip Luo Binghe off him and demand a proper fight, but instead he’s caught entranced by Shen Qingqiu calming the demon. The way he pets his hand and brushes back tears and kisses his temple before flicking him hard in the center of the forehead is utterly entrancing and that strange feeling of longing that is only ever awoken around Shen Qingqiu wells in his chest. Every so often Shen Qingqiu looks over his shoulder at Liu Qingge with an unspoken apology for his husband’s antics.  Although his actions should not, they calm them both, keeping them both from fighting. So long they fought over his body, but now his body is the only thing between them keeping them at peace when confined in a small space together.

When Luo Binghe calms down, wipes his eyes, and says that he doesn’t want Liu Qingge here, they all sit together and discuss the matter at hand. Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe eat the meal they had just begun to consume when he knocked on the door. Luo Binghe takes big bites, half daring Liu Qingge to dare ask for any and half to eat it all before he even has the chance. He eats so quickly he chokes twice and breaks into fits of coughing. As much as Liu Qingge’s stomach growls at delicate white fish plucked of each and every one of its bones dipped in a golden sauce and layed out on a bed of fluffy rice and greens he doesn’t lower himself to such a request. Instead, he discusses the matter at hand with Shen Qingqiu, ignoring Luo Binghe’s interjections.

When he walks away, he can hear floating through the open window of the cabin Luo Binghe crying that it wasn’t his fault and Shen Qingqiu saying if it wasn’t his fault that Liu Qingge’s pregnant then who’s is it? Liu Qingge pauses to listen, turning around just in time to see a silhouetted Luo Bing fling himself onto Shen Qingqiu to kiss him. Shen Qingqiu’s arms rise and wrap around Luo Binghe’s neck, backlit by the warm lamps inside like a performance of shadows where Liu Qingge is only an onlooker.

Liu Qingge takes the long way back to Bai Zhan Peak before detouring and walking straight to the Spirit caves where he enters without permission.

Although Shen Qingqiu offered no resolution, he has come to one as he sits in the caves to meditate. He saw the longing in Shen Qingqiu’s eyes. He even saw it in Luo Binghe’s even if Luo Binghe’s wants doesn’t matter to him after his irrational choices have resulted in all this. He just knows that Shen Qingqiu wants the baby, and a strange, buried part of him can imagine raising a child with Shen Qingqiu.

And maybe Luo Binghe.

If he absolutely must.

He makes an ugly face at the thought.

Chapter Text

Shen Qingqiu sits under the heavy trees shading the pond, smiling at the memory of Luo Binghe flinging himself into the waters. He was so worried about Luo Binghe that night when really he was just being a silly boy. There is no Luo Binghe in the pond today. There is, however, a duck paddling around. Occasionally it dips its front half under the water, leaving its little orange feet to kick in the air.

He really could do with a nap. It’s the perfect temperature for a nap. With how clingy Luo Binghe has been Shen Qingqiu hasn’t been sleeping much. Most of his nights are fully occupied by his husband. He yawns widely, letting his eyes close.

He and Luo Binghe very briefly left the peak after news of Liu Qingge’s pregnancy. They returned to the demon realm for a few days. It was more than obvious to anyone with eyes that Luo Binghe was overwhelmed by the news that not only is he not pregnant, but Liu Qingge is. For the poor protagonist so used to his protagonist halo working in his favor, such a disruption in his plans has to be deeply upsetting. He’s far more like a tender hearted maiden than anyone would think. The last few years Luo Binghe has had an easier life than the years previous and gotten used to dotting and being dotted on. He truly hasn’t experienced total devastation in a long time and it was clear that he was on the verge of a mental break. Given his last true mental fracture resulted in Luo Binghe trying to destroy the world and Shen Qingqiu actually dying, it was a less than desirable potential. Therefore, after assuring Liu Qingge and Yue Qingyuan that they’d return once Luo Binghe calmed down and accepted the comeuppance of his own scheming, they would return.

It took longer than Shen Qingqiu expected for him to accept it.

…and then to promise Shen Qingqiu that he wouldn’t try to get pregnant again just to have a better baby than Liu Qingge, as he grumbled one late night when they cuddled together. One baby plus Luo Binghe he can wrap his head around. Two babies plus Luo Binghe he cannot. 

Staying in the demon realm did them good. It gave Luo Binghe the space to accept his misery and be coddled by his husband, while also giving Liu Qinge time away from them to think about what he wants. He may or may not have insisted Luo Binghe try his hand at babysitting while they were there, which was a mixed bag. Luo Binghe didn’t hate it, but he wasn’t pleased about Shen Qingqiu leaving him alone with a child either. Nor did he like Shen Qingqiu playing with the child instead of his whole attention being on Luo Binghe, even if he tried to hide it.

Now though they’ve returned and Shen Qingqiu can luxuriate by the pond between lessons. This really isn't so bad. He’s always liked his peak. And his Binghe who he sees a ways away making garden beds in front of the bamboo house so Shen Qingqiu can plant some of the flora he’s found in their travels. Right now they sit in pots in the room that was Binghe’s when he was little and a few have grown sentient and are trying to fight each other. 

Shen Qingqiu closes his eyes only for a second. 

…

He jolts himself awake with his own snore. The sun has shifted in the sky, telling him that a few hours have passed. A little embarrassed, Shen Qingqiu has a brief second of thinking at least no one saw him sleeping before reality crashes down.

Liu Qingge stands at the edge of the pond looking out at the water. He stands with his feet at shoulder width, his hands tucked behind his back clutching Shen Qingqiu’s fan. Luo Binghe sits on the grass right next to Shen Qingqiu. A hand is possessively over Shen Qingqiu’s inner thigh and he’s glaring daggers at Liu Qingge.

A hand over Luo Binghe’s and his attention is immediately drawn back to Shen Qingqiu. The dark glower vanishes in an instant. Luo Binghe is a puppy eager to please rather than a wolf facing down its rival.

Silly Binghe, acting as though he has a rival.

“How long was I asleep?” Shen Qingqiu tries to hide a yawn with his hand. It’s a pity that Liu Qingge has his fan when he’d much rather hide behind it than his hand.

“Long enough for me to make dinner,” Lou Binghe says a little too loudly to be just for Shen Qingqiu. He places a strained emphasis on the last word in clear indication that it’s time for Liu Qingge to leave. Shen Qingqiu hears it. Liu Qingge does too.

“Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu says patting Lou Binghe on the top of his head in thanks for cooking. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

Liu Qingge turns, a hint of surprise on his face. It’s funny to see the man surprised. All the seriousness falls from his face, his lips parting ever so slightly and his brows tilting. It makes him look less like a tiger and more like a fluffy white kitten that should be picked up and have its belly rubbed even if it’ll try to stick him with its little razor claws. It’s a contrast to Luo Binghe’s crestfallen expression of total betrayal by his husband for inviting his enemy to stay for dinner. Shen Qingqiu knows that he will reward him for being good tonight, even if his hips are sore from the previous night.

“Binghe always cooks more than enough for just the two of us, and perhaps it’d be good to start having family dinners together to check in on each other.”

“Shizun…” Binghe says quietly. “I don’t want him–”

“Shh,” Shen Qingqiu reproaches. He lets his hand slide over the back of Binghe’s hair to rest at the nape of his neck in a motion that is half scruffing him and half a reassuring squeeze.

Perhaps it's the lighting because Liu Qingge’s cheeks turn pink.

“I just came because I took a quick trip to the Emerald Lit Provence and there was this. I thought you’d like it.” He pulls a small writhing bag from his side. “And I found your fan on the path.”

“OH!” Shen Qingqiu jumps to his feet and hurries over with his hands out for the gift. He’s too late realizing how he looks running to a present but it’s too late to compose himself. The bag is already in his hands and excitement overcomes him. In his hands, the bag wiggles. Whatever is inside feels like a small mouse.

Behind him Luo Binghe glowers at Liu Qingge, squaring his shoulders to look as big and imposing as he can. Liu Qingge only affords him a glance marked by shadows before focusing on Shen Qingqiu opening the bag and trying not to let the emerald colored beetle escape from his grasp. As if to stab the dagger deeping into Luo Binghe’s heart, he starts telling Shen Qingqiu about the market he bartered the beetle at.

“You didn’t do anything dangerous to get it? You didn’t fight?”

“I did,” Liu Qingge replies but quickly adds, “It was a small fight. A bet. They couldn’t touch me.”

Luo Binghe angrily grumbles, “I’ll show you someone who can touch you.”

The two peaklords ignore his grumbles. Shen Qingqiu holds the beetle up letting it climb over his fingers and catch the remnants of sun. Wonderment is written over his entire being.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt. I mean,” he lowers the beetle. “I wouldn’t want you getting hurt anyways, but, you know…”

Feeling like he’s about to choke up blood, Luo Binghe tugs on his sleeve saying, “Shizun I get hurt too.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt either, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu assures turning towards him and wrapping an arm around him. He still admires the beetle held high on his fingers while Liu Qingge stands stiffly before them. “This really is too beautiful, Liu-shidi. You have to stay for dinner now. Our thanks.”

Luo Binghe tries to block Liu Qingge from entering the bamboo house. Shen Qingqiu walks ahead and fails to notice his husband blocking him, Luo Binghe going so far as the shut the door in Liu Qingge’s face. He’s too preoccupied with the beetle and dumping out a glass case to keep it in for the moment.

“Binghe, come here.” he summons once he’s satisfied with the case. Luo Binghe is forced from holding the door shut to his husband’s side. Shen Qingqiu hands him the case containing the beetle.

“Could you go fill this with some dirt and sticks and leaves?”

In that moment Luo Binghe is torn in two between guarding his husband against the intruder now entering his home and fulfilling a direct and earnest request by his husband. It’s as though Shen Qingqiu has accidentally crafted the perfect torture for his softened heart, and if it weren’t for Liu Qingge removing his shoes at the entryway he would have burst into tears and begged Shen Qingqiu not to force him out of their home.

He reluctantly takes the glass case. He can’t help but bare his teeth in a snarl at Liu Qingge on the way out. Liu Qingge doesn’t even give him a reaction knowing that he can’t get his ass kicked under the presence of Shen Qingqiu. They both know that Luo Binghe would win if they ever face off again. Only Shizun’s presence keeps him safe from a fight. The thought gives him a little satisfaction as he goes into the garden to scoop handfuls of dirt into the case, adding a few leaves and sticks exactly as Shen Qingqiu said. He listens carefully, keeping his ears perked in case there’s any hints of a pleasant conversation happening without him, but even with his excellent hearing the bamboo house is silent so he does his very best to make the beetle’s home for his husband. Even if stupid Liu Qingge gave him the beetle, it’s Luo Binghe who gave it a home and therefore he’s the better beetle dad doing all the work.

Another little strike of smugness passes through Luo Binghe at the thought. Yes. He can take care of this stupid bug to prove to his husband he can take care of a baby.

It’s worse than Lou Binghe thought when he returns inside with muddy hands: his husband has his hand on that homewrecker hussy Liu Qingge’s stomach!

Liu Qingge stands awkwardly as Shen Qingqiu touches his stomach, staring past his shoulder out the window. He blacked out for a few seconds when Shen Qingqiu got close and he doesn’t remember how this came to be, just that Shen Qingqiu is touching him. His face is warm. His entire body is warm. He can feel Shen Qingqiu channel spiritual energy into his stomach to feel if he can make a connection with the baby yet. It tickles and Liu Qingge almost jerks away.

Keeping his expression flat, Liu Qingge says, “I think it’s too early.” 

“Hmm. Probably.” Shen Qingqiu replies but keeps his hand there on Liu Qingge’s stomach. Liu Qingge can’t bring himself to bat him away even though just this morning he slapped Mu Qingfang for daring to ask to do the same for medical reasons.

He feels the hair raise on the back of his neck first, followed by the front door slamming shut. Demonic energy darkens the room and killing intent poisons the air. Everything in Liu Qingge bristles and he's half a second away from drawing his sword and pulling Shen Qingqiu behind him from the demon.

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu happily announces without noticing the killing intent. He leaves his hand on Liu Qingge's stomach trapping him in place. “Come here and see if you feel anything yet. That's alright, right, shidi? Oh and look at the beetle! It looks so happy. Thank you, shidi. Thank you, Binghe.”

Shen Qingqiu reaches out as soon as Binghe is close enough to shoulder check Liu Qingge, wrapping his arm around his waist without noticing the two bristling at each other. Luo Binghe lowers his head expecting a head pat or a kiss, to which he gets a small one of each before Shen Qingqiu takes the beetle case from him.

Liu Qingge just manages to dodge the muddy palm moving towards his white clothes at Shen Qingqiu’s behest. He doesn't need Luo Binghe touching him and he can tell Luo Binghe doesn't want to touch him either except to be petty and smear filth all over him.

Luo Binghe’s eyebrows raise as if he's warning Liu Qingge he's about to tell on him like a child would tattle to a teacher. Absolutely pathetic. 

Liu Qingge crosses his arms over his chest. If Luo Binghe wants to act like a child, Liu Qingge will treat him as such. “Perhaps Luo Binghe should wash before dinner.”

“Oh, yes. Binghe go wash up. This master will get the table set up.”

As Luo Binghe stalks back outside Liu Qingge can't help but feel like he won.

Over dinner Shen Qingqiu only mildly notices the tension in the room. He only notes on it enough to muse that they should have regular family dinners from now on so that things won’t be as tense in future. 

“We're predominantly back at the peak now,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Binghe has a bit more business in the demon realm that will need to be taken care of, so we'll be popping over there every so often. But I've spoken with Yue Qingyuan and he says only a few peaklords have banned Binghe after… well, you won't be doing anything like that again, will you?”

“No, Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu pops a bean into his mouth. He chews loudly and nods approvingly. 

“And he won't let his disciples attack me.” Luo Binghe says pointedly staring at Liu Qingge. Shen Qingqiu looks towards Liu Qingge expectantly. 

“I don't control the disciples of Bai Zhan Peak.”

Shen Qingqiu doubles down on his expectant look. Liu Qingge has no choice but to yield. 

“I will tell them.”

“Good. Excellent. So between your travels we can plan family dinners.”

The two men on either side of Shen Qingqiu grumble agreement, each wanting to share meals with Shen Qingqiu but not with the other. 

The rest of dinner passes with ease. Shen Qingqiu spends a lot of time lecturing the two on making habits of various beetle species, some of which Liu Qingge makes mental notes which he sounds most excited for so he can find them and bring them home. 

Shen Qingqiu walks Liu Qingge back to Bai Zhan Peak. Luo Binghe stalks behind them, his fingers hooked around Shen Qingqiu’s hand. He doesn't participate in the conversation as Shen Qingqiu asks about training for the Immortal Alliance Conference and musing whether he wants to go tour the arena to ensure its really safe this year, which would disqualify him from preparing entrants. 

“I can help train your disciples,” Liu Qingge finds himself offering without thinking. The way Shen Qingqiu’s face lights up makes his heart lurch against his chest and ache with how fast it pounds. It's worth it to be bound to the mountain just for that smile.

Chapter Text

In the third month of Liu Qingge's pregnancy, Shen Qingqiu arrives on the Bai Zhan training fields to observe disciples attacking each other under Liu Qingge's instruction. Liu Qingge doesn't notice him at first. He's locked in combat with four disciples, two from his own peak and two from Shen Qingqiu’s. It doesn't take much effort to dodge their blades and hook a foot around one's heel so he falls backwards into the girl behind him, at which point Liu Qingge only needs to expel a burst of spiritual energy to force the other two onto the ground. As he spins, his long hair and light robes flying out around him, he catches sight of Shen Qingqiu. His hard expression softens ever so slightly seeing the figure clad in pale green alone at the entrance to the fields, a soft breeze drifting over him so that his hair ribbons float around him and golden leaves from a nearby tree pass behind him. Shen Qingqiu raises his fan to cover the lower half of his face, but it’s too slow and Liu Qingge can see the corners of a smile before it vanishes behind a rendering of two beautiful birds. Liu Qingge abandons his disciples’ training and runs to Shen Qingqiu.

Or, he would, if not for tripping on the leg of a fallen disciple. He stumbles forward, plummeting not quite able to catch himself before he’s caught.

“Careful, shidi,” Shen Qingqiu says with a bright litany in his voice. “If I hadn’t seen you fight I’d almost dare call the war god clumsy.”

Liu Qingge is caught between staying in Shen Qingqiu’s arms and pushing himself off angrily at the slight and humiliation. He just kind of stumbles to his feet feeling the heat in his cheeks expand outwards to reach his ears.

“Are you here to check on your disciples? Or train yourself?” Liu Qingge asks trying to pretend he didn’t just trip into Shen Qingqiu’s arms. He can feel the eyes of others on him so he grabs the arm of the fallen disciple, pulling him to his feet and shoving him forward with the order for all disciples to run all twelve peaks. With a communal groan they start jogging away, leaving the two alone on the training field.

The air is hot and humid. Or maybe he’s suddenly broken a sweat. 

“Let’s walk?” Shen Qingqiu says cheerily without answering his question.

They begin a slow meander around the perimeter of the training fields. Liu Qingge struggles to walk as slowly as Shen Qingqiu, who is rarely in a hurry these days. His natural pace is nearly twice that of the leisurely man.

“I was thinking,” Shen Qingqiu says after a few minutes of bland conversation about the Immortal Alliance Competition and his first trip to meet with the planners. “That should you need some assistance given your state, you could plan to move with me and Binghe. If things become too much for you and you’d like a break from cleaning and cooking. Or if you keep tripping.”

The delight at the tease flashes in Shen Qingqiu’s eyes making Liu Qingge avert his gaze rather than punching back in a more literal sense. He can’t understand what it is about Shen Qingqiu that not only makes him lower his defenses, but entirely unable to defend himself. He can’t defend himself against the joke in the slightest. Any attempt at doing so would be a stammer that would only embarrass him further.

“Binghe’s old room would be good,” Shen Qingqiu continued lightly. “It’s just off the main cabin. It’s nice too. I’ve slept in there on more than one occasion and you’d be very comfortable. We were thinking when the baby’s born, it might become its room. But until then, it’s open for you.”

“I–” don’t need it is what he intends to reply. Instead “would like that” is what floats through the air between them. He can’t take it back because Shen Qingqiu lights up. Liu Qingge didn’t even realize that he looked worried before. 

“Excellent. We’ll get it ready for you.”

The two continue walking the perimeter of the training fields at Shen Qingqiu’s leisurely pace until the disciples finally arrive back, all out of breath and sweating. Liu Qingge takes no mercy on them and immediately sends them into a series of punishing drills determined to ensure that they will bring honor to the sect (and Shen Qingqiu) in the conference.

…and to ensure they don’t speak a word of him tripping.

Shen Qingqiu departs with a cheerful farewell with the resumption of training, telling Liu Qingge he'll send word when everything is ready and he can move in whenever he wants. His mind lingers on their conversation, on tripping into Shen Qingqiu and feeling his arms close around him, and the fact he's suddenly moving into the bamboo house with Shen Qingqiu at some point in the future.

And Luo Binghe.

It isn't until two weeks later that Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe arrange for Liu Qingge to come see the newly arranged room. Luo Binghe has emphatically tried every method he could think of to make Shen Qingqiu change his mind on allowing Liu Qingge to move into his room. Tears didn't work. Anger didn't work. Making up stories about Liu Qingge the homewrecker didn't work. The only think that almost worked was pointing out midway through sex just how loud they can be and asking if Shizun is okay with Liu Qingge overhearing such things. 

That, unfortunately, backfired because even though it was the third day last night and Luo Binghe tried to seduce his husband, Shen Qingqiu very nearly refused until Luo Binghe cried about the distance between them even though they were pressed against each other’s sweaty bodies. And even then his husband bit his lip and tried to keep silent as if testing his ability to enjoy sex in silence. Poor Binghe ended up crying and snuffling in his husband's arms before Shen Qingqiu finally said, “We can just use a silencing talisman.”

It was enough to make him stop crying then and get excited about which type of talisman they might use to silence their moans or the room as a whole (or land a deafening curse Liu Qingge and carry on as normal as Luo Binghe suggested) but now morning has come and he's once again bitter having spent the last four hours clearing his plants and Shen Qingqiu’s creatures out of his room and into a small shed his husband asked him to build to home their goods.

The problem is, at its core, that Luo Binghe has multiple daggers buried in his heart at clearing the room for Liu Qingge. Beyond the most obvious that he doesn’t want another man who is pregnant with Shizun’s baby to even exist, Luo Binghe is also territorial over the room itself. This was his room. The room that Shizun assigned specifically to him. The room that he slept in for years and years. The room that Shizun brought him food and medicine to when he fell sick. The room that he was laying in bed in when he realized what those warm, fuzzy, overwhelming feelings regarding Shen Qingqiu meant.

It is, without question, his room. He’s willing to give it up for a baby, but not for Liu Qingge.

The problem is that he really can’t deny Shen Qingqiu and Shen Qingqiu clearly wants the space available for Liu Qingge if he wants. So Lou Binghe sulks and Shen Qingqiu allows him to sulk, but in the end they  scrub the room clean and lay out fresh bedding.

Luo Binghe eyes the bedding.

It isn’t as good as the Bai Zhan training fields but…

“Shizun….?”

“What is it, Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu says. He kneels stacking half the bookshelf onto his sword to float into the next room. He works with such intense concentration that it almost looks like a game to him.

“This disciple thinks the bed is too hard.”

“What? No it’s not. You slept in it for years. I wouldn’t have let you sleep on a bad bed. It’s fine.”

“~Shizun~” Luo Binghe drags out again. “This disciple was young and supple. Liu-shishu is old and pregnant. His back isn’t as strong.”

“Binghe, Liu-shidi and I are almost the same age.” Shen Qingqiu finally rotates around to look at Binghe who laid on the bed in display. Immediately his cheeks turn red and he chokes, almost knocking his stack of books off his sword. 

“I’m just worried about our baby,” Luo Binghe says shooting him a look crossed between pleading and innocence. “If you want to show this husband that it’s fine for backs the same age as yours then come show me, otherwise I won’t be able to stop worrying…”

Shen Qingqiu turns back to his tower of books stacked on the hovering sword. His voice is tight when he replies. “Binghe it’s fine. Besides. Liu Qingge will be here in a few minutes.”

Luo Binghe frowns deeply, the curves of his lips falling into a sad halfmoon as his chin tugs upwards. It’s the one thing he wants in exchange for letting Liu Qinge sleep in his room and in his bed. All he wants is a little quickie in his childhood bed that his sworn enemy might be moving into so he can mark it as his and Shizun’s. What’s so wrong with that?

Shen Qingqiu senses his distraught and turns around, pushing himself up with a pop in his knees as if to prove how old he is and approaching to stand over him. He bends forward and cups Luo Binghe’s cheeks between his hands to kiss his forehead right over his pulsing demon mark. He can feel the question of  must we really?

“If shizun doesn’t want to, we… don’t have to.” he mumbles. He balls his hands in the blankets. They’re new. The ones that were on his bed from his days in this room are permeated with the scent of dust and living in a cabinet in the main rooms of the bamboo house. He can’t help his lips puffing out in a pout as he tries to resolve himself with being okay with not getting to have sex in the bed.

Shen Qingqiu brushes a thumb under his eyelashes and sighs. 

“Something fast” he says slowly not wanting Luo Binghe to cry. “Should be okay. And you have to clean up if there’s any mess at all–Ah!”

Luo Binghe has already pulled him down onto him. He buries his face in Shen Qingqiu’s neck, kissing and dragging his tongue over his soft skin until he elicited a moan that shoots straight to his cock. He ruts against Shen Qingqiu who fists Luo Binghe’s robes, his breath hitching with each kiss until Luo Binghe manages to swiftly pull off his belt in a single tug and start tugging at the waistline of Shen Qingqiu’s pants.

Liu Qingge does not trust how smug Luo Binghe looks as they walk through the room that he’s allowed to move into whenever he wants additional help. The man smiles, his teeth bared in a demonic grin that makes Liu Qingge not want to sleep anywhere near him. Although perhaps that’s the very point. Luo Binghe is trying to scare him off in some iteration of psychological warfare. If there’s one thing Liu Qingge is, it’s not scared. He’s not scared of Luo Binghe.  He’s never been willing to back down from a fight. To prove his point, he plops himself down on the bed without breaking eye contact with Luo Binghe.

The man’s expression twists and the smirk grows.

Shen Qingqiu covers his mouth and coughs slightly before continuing to tell Liu Qingge about how they can get some of the An Ding disciples to help carry anything Liu Qingge needs between peaks.

“Oh, that window opens,” Shen Qingqiu says pointing at the window to the left of the bed. “It, um, it gets stuck sometimes. You have to put all your weight on it. I can show you. Or we can fix that too. Or move the table under–”

“It’s fine.” Liu Qingge replies looking at the table and the small potted cutting of the gelatinous honey bloom he brought back for Shen Qingqiu nearly a year back. It emanates a sweet, sweet smell through the room, one that overwhelms all else.

He picks it up and rotates it in his hands. He’s surprised Shen Qingqiu managed to keep it alive. They’re notoriously easy to overwater and kill unless you know exactly how to keep them, or at least that’s what the herbalist he bought it from said. When he says as much Shen Qingqiu mumbles something about reading about it to know how to keep it and dives into a fresh conversation, drawing him out of the room and back into the main house.

Again they share a family dinner made by Luo Binghe. It’s strange, Liu Qingge realizes. Although he had a loving family and although his sister is in the same sect, beyond the previous family meal he’s never really had one. To be included in something so openly titled a family meal makes him feel warm inside. A little drunk. Tipsy at least, to the point he has to double check his cup to make sure there is no alcohol in it.

Most of the conversation through the meal is Shen Qingqiu talking. He weaves through this topic and that with the same ease that individual threads become an entire tapestry. In Liu Qingge’s hands the conversation would fall into a million loose ends unconnected and cut short, but that’s no matter to Shen Qingqiu. He could fill the room with his silence and Liu Qingge would still listen.

Luo Binghe joins the conversation too. He speaks a little more than Liu Qingge who replies in breaks in the conversation. For the most part Luo Binghe doesn’t speak to Liu Qingge except for a few puffed evaluations of power when Shen Qingqiu excuses himself to relieve himself. But with Shen Qingqiu not a corpse, they’re not allowed to fight over the living man.

Liu Qingge doesn’t move into the side room right away. He doesn’t see the point of it. Not really. He has his own bed on his own peak. His peak holds the training fields which he has to be on with the sun rising to begin training. It’s just more convenient to remain on Bai Zhan Peak.

But he visits most days. Or Shen Qingqiu visits him. On occasion Luo Binghe joins his husband, each time puffed and squaring up to Liu Qingge. It’s utterly absurd. Useless posturing. All Liu Qingge sees is the pathetic man hunched over Shen Qingqiu’s body with red stained eyes from tears or qi deviation. He simply ignores Luo Binghe when he shows up with Shen Qingqiu.

“Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu says one day as they sit on the veranda outside. The weather isn’t exactly pleasant. A thick blanket of fog has rolled between the peaks to carpet the view. But the cool air is refreshing as Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe sip on warm wine and Liu Qingge enjoys a fresh pureed juice blend that he knows Shen Qingqiu made Luo Binghe make. It tastes sweet, like a victory he didn’t know he wanted.

“Mn.” Liu Qingge tilts his head towards Shen Qingqiu, taking in the way his long hair flows down his back to pool in his silks of white and green. Somewhere hiding under his hair is Luo Binghe’s hand at the base of his spine. Shen Qingqiu takes another sip to hide a smile when Liu Qingge looks over at him before setting the cup down with a quiet thud on the dark wood porch.

“I was wondering if I could feel your spiritual energy again.”

He hasn’t asked to take Liu Qingge’s hand much. Perhaps once a week, if that. Liu Qingge holds out his arm to his shixiong who unbuttons his sleeve just enough to slide two fingers against his wrist. It sends a tickle though Liu Qingge, a fuzzy warmth that’s uncomfortable but only because of unfamiliarity. If it were to happen more he’s sure he would grow to like it. 

“How have been been feeling? You were so lightheaded before.”

“Fine.”

“You don’t feel sick?”

“No.”

“Tired.”

“No more than normal.”

Shen Qingqiu tilts his head. “How much is normal, Shidi?”

Luo Binghe’s head pops up next to Shen Qingqiu’s as he drapes himself over Shen Qingqiu’s back and rests his chin on his shoulder. His hands slide around to close at the front of Shen Qingqiu’s chest, his fingers curling to dig into the soft layers. Shen Qingqiu tilts his head slightly to make increased contact with Luo Binghe’s cheek.

Liu Qingge unhelpfully replies “A normal amount.”

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t dig. He merely closes his eyes to focus on Liu Qingge’s pulse and the power of his spiritual energy coursing under his thin skin. Liu Qingge watches him and Luo Binghe studies Liu Qingge.

Suddenly Shen Qingqiu smiles when he feels the trace threads of spiritual energy from the baby. Liu Qingge feels it too. A twitch or quickening. He hasn’t spent too much time thinking about it or turning his attention inwards so it’s the first time he feels it. The pang of excitement is unexpected. It feels like he was infected by Shen Qingqiu’s excitement rather than his own, even if the excitement is his and his alone. 

Another hand closes around Shen Qingqiu’s and two new fingers slide under his sleeve and along Liu Qingge’s sensitive skin, rubbing back and forth along Liu Qingge’s vein between Shen Qingqiu’s now spread fingertips. Luo Binghe tightens his grip to make sure that Liu Qingge doesn’t jerk away. He wants to be included in the moment. His hands are hot compared to Shen Qingqiu’s fingers only slightly cooler than Liu Qingge’s own skin. 

They stay like this for several moments. A strange cluster all attached at a single point, bound by a single heartbeat deep inside Liu Qingge.

The fog rolls inwards, creeping its tendrils through the valleys to deposit soft dew on windswept leaves. The air stirs around them just enough to make the leaves of the bushes tremble and evoke shivers. It catches the petals of a plum tree, causing them to quiver and drop glistening wet onto the trio.

From deep inside Liu Qingge he feels a strange pull. It feels like thread unraveling, untwisting inside him to retwist into a new shape. Shen Qingqiu’s brows pull together and Luo Binghe’s eyes widen. They feel it too.

“Shizun…” Luo Binghe says quietly, his lips pressed against Shen Qingqiu’s neck. He stares at the point where they all intertwine beneath the cuff of Liu Qingge’s sleeve where his skin is soft and thin.

“I know. Don’t say anything,” Shen Qingqiu replies softly. His fingers unconsciously press deeper into Liu Qingge’s wrist. He wears that unnervingly smooth expression that says he’s about to crack under stress.

“What?” Liu Qingge asks. 

“It’s nothing, shidi. Just something Binghe thought of.”

It doesn’t feel like nothing with Luo Binghe digging his fingernails into Liu Qingge to keep them all attached. Liu Qingge studies them both until he locks onto Luo Binghe. He stares him down until Shen Qingqiu yields.

“Well, it’s just, I can feel the baby.”

Liu Qingge nods as if Shen Qingqiu is telling him about a rare desert cat. “Yes.”

“And I feel the hints of my spiritual energy.”

Liu Qingge nods again. He can feel that too.

“We should actually talk to Mu Qingfang. He’d know better than me.”

Shen Qingqiu goes to release Liu Qingge, break the warm spot where they touch. Liu Qingge is faster and grabs Luo Binghe’s hand clasped over the other man’s gripping it hard to force them both to stay in place inside his sleeve. 

 “What is it?”

Shen Qingqiu exhales deeply and tilts his gaze to Luo Binghe who is unnaturally puffed at being grabbed and overpowered by Liu Qingge in a moment where he’s not allowed to break his fingers to break his grip. Or he’s puffed by what he felt.

For the first time a small pang of anxiety courses through Liu Qingge. They’re the ones who have been researching pregnancy. He only half listened to what Mu Qingfang said and agreed not to get into any life or death fights, and by that he only meant he wouldn’t seek them out. If one came to him, that would be a different story.

Shen Qingqiu suddenly says, “Binghe, you tell him why it’s there.”

Keeping a level, authoritatively intimidating tone, Liu Qingge asks “Why is what there?” 

“Demonic qi.” Luo Binghe replies in a strangely cracking voice. His fingers have slipped from pressed against Liu Qingge’s veins to curled, pressed between the crevice between Liu Qingge’s forearm and Shen Qingqiu’s palm.

White heat flashes through Liu Qingge and he jerks back feeling burned. Suddenly he feels it too, that unravelling feeling and retwisting is demonic qi and spiritual energy weaving together to form a new life.

“It is not Luo Binghe’s–” he snaps and abandons, not wanting to put the words into the world.

“We should go to Mu Qingfang.” Shen Qingqiu says.

Mu Qingfang is not impressed by the trio bursting into his offices scaring half his disciples and the entire medical ward of the sect. It takes him only a moment’s investigation before he confirms that indeed, there are trace amounts of Luo Binghe’s demonic qi circling Liu Qingge’s body. He does confirm that there hasn’t been a mixup amidst the mixup and Liu Qingge is indeed carrying Shen Qingqiu’s baby.

“What’s most likely is that Luo Binghe was channeling his spiritual energy into one or both of the containers and trace amounts lingered.” Mu Qingfang explains to the trio. “That qi remained. It wouldn’t have mattered with Luo Binghe’s biology given his spiritual powers already combine the two, but given your body is not used to any demonic qi inside it’s throwing your spiritual energy out of balance. And I assuming you’re not willing incrementally get your body used to demonic qi by you and Luo Binghe dual cu–”

Shen Qingqiu shifts uncomfortably. Luo Binghe towers them all watching like a hawk ready to strike its prey.

“No.” Liu Qingge replies flat out killing the line of thought.

Mu Qingfang nods and scribbles something down. 

“Well, then. I would determine this a high-risk pregnancy just by the nature of your body contending with demonic qi. It’s what made you pass out before. We should keep you under observation in case it grows too strong and you qi deviate. Shen-shixiong, you said you have a living space set up near yours?”

“Yes.”

Mu Qingfang gives an approving look. “Then I recommend Liu Qingge move in right away. Just in case of qi deviation. Last thing we want is you alone if that happens.” He turns to Liu Qingge. “You need to stick close to these two at all times in case the demonic qi needs attending.”

And just like that, Liu Qingge’s things are packed up and moved into Luo Binghe’s old room much to his chagrin and Luo Binghe’s displeasure.

Chapter Text

The first night Liu Qingge sleeps in his new bed his dreams are strange.

At first they’re normal. His mind is constantly practicing steps for sword techniques. This is what he dreams of too…. Except midway through his dream, once his body is fatigued and sweating, something catches his eye.

Luo Binghe stands at the doorway, a hulking figure cutting an imposing backlit silhouette. He doesn’t react when Liu Qingge’s sword is raised and pointed directly at his chest. Liu Qingge knows without question that this is the real Luo Binghe and not one of his dreams. He’s heard enough how he can infiltrate his dreams, even a few times when the battled over Shen Qingqiu’s body did he force his way into Liu Qingge’s mind to disrupt his sleep. Back then he didn’t realize it was truly Luo Binghe and only his own fixation on reusing his shixiong from the grasp of the demon.

Liu Qingge gestures his sword forward in a shooing motion. “Get out of my dream.” 

Luo Binghe doesn’t retreat. Instead he surges forward, slamming into Liu Qingge to pin him to the wall. He doesn’t take notice of the sword speared through his stomach or the dark blood seeping onto the floor at their feet.

Nose to nose he snarls, “GET OUT OF MY HOME!”

Liu Qingge jolts awake, his entire body hot with adrenaline of being attacked in his sleep. He slowly calms as he realizes that Luo Binghe isn’t going to burst his way into his room to attack him in real life too. No, Luo Binghe is cleverer than that and trying to chase him out like a poltergeist haunting a home’s new occupants. He doesn’t want Shen Qingqiu to know he’s trying to scare him out.

The fact that Luo Binghe is scared of him sharing a room attached to their home is enough satisfaction to make Liu Qingge lay back down and go to sleep, confident in his own safety under Shen Qingqiu’s protection. 

Luo Binghe, meanwhile, wakes coughing and choking on a mouthful of blood. He falls out of bed onto his hands and knees, twisted in the blankets and clutching his stomach. Above him, his husband makes a grumpy sound of sleep until he realizes that something is seriously wrong and rolls to the edge.

“Binghe?” he yelps jumping out of bed with him with one hand on Luo Binghe’s back and one on his cheek. “Binghe, what happened!?”

Luo Binghe spits a mouthful of blood onto the floor.

From where Shen Qingqiu touches him, warm floods his body. The pain in his stomach begins to recede. It hurts more than the times he wakes with a searing headache from destroying those in his own dreamscape, although it might only be because he was not expecting a sword to bore through him when he charged the homewrecker. How dare Liu Qingge stab him in his own home??

“Any better?” Shen Qingqiu asks when he stops spitting blood onto the flood and merely gasps for air. He bunches the sleeve of his nightshirt in his fist and dabs at Luo Binghe’s chin. Feeling overwhelmed, Luo Binghe lets himself slump against his husband who lets him land on his lap like a massive lap dog.

“I know this is hard for you,” Shen Qingqiu says after checking his pulse. He doesn’t bother hiding his worry from Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe likes knowing that he’s the center of Shen Qingqiu’s mind and this whole experience has been a challenge for him even if it’s all his fault.“But you really can’t go into your dreams and attack yourself. I don’t want that.”

Luo Binghe grunts. He’s not going to admit that he actually forced his way into Liu Qingge’s dreams to try and scare him. He’d much rather Shen Qingqiu think him tearing his own mind apart. That will get him pity while the former will only grant him a lecture about coexisting. He toys with the tie at Shen Qingqiu’s side, aimlessly tugging on the knot not to make it untie but just to do something.

“Not here…” he says causing Luo Binghe to pout. Shen Qingqiu sighs and tucks back a strand of hair. “If you need to, you can come into my dreams. Or pull me into yours.”

Luo Binghe looks up, big puppy eyes meeting a sharp, worried gaze. He lets his expression soften further into a pout. It works because Shen Qingqiu keeps dabbing at the blood on his chin before kissing the demon mark on his forehead.

“Promise me you’ll come into my dreams if you feel yourself slipping.”

“Mn.” Luo Binghe agrees wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face against soft fabric. “Shizun is my home.”

Shen Qingqiu agrees, not knowing the power of that statement.

The days pass into weeks.

The room Liu Qingge stays in is small. It was never meant to be a bedroom. It was built for additional storage several years before Shen Qingqiu’s qi deviation, back when he had a proclivity for collecting rare and expensive goods. Hints of Luo Binghe’s childhood remain, but for the most part the room has been scrubbed of his ownership and replaced with Liu Qingge’s meager possessions. He's gotten used to it for the most part. He's used to traveling and his chambers never really felt like his own to begin with. Therefore the room is all out homey by his standards, especially since his dreams are not haunted by that demon Luo Binghe again.

No. What makes the room unbearable begins exactly four days after Liu Qingge moves in and, like clockwork, continues every other night.

It starts late at night when darkness blankets the bamboo house. Liu Qingge would have been long asleep if not for the demonic qi upsetting his internal balance. Everything is absolutely silent. Still. Muffled, although the constant chorus of frogs outside fill the air. Liu Qingge is alone with his thoughts, a constant cycle of actions and reactions, maneuvers and sword techniques. 

“Ah”

Liu Qingge’s ears perk at the slight noise permeating the walls. He sits up and listens. He can hear the faintest movement, as though one of the two in the other room has grunted getting out of bed. Deeming it unimportant, Liu Qingge lays back down and closes his eyes.

“Ahh”

Liu Qingge keeps his eyes closed.

“No, I like you this way.”

Liu Qingge’s eyes fly open again.

“Binghe my leg will cramp if you hold me like that. My hips–”

“This disciple won’t let Shizun’s hips hurt.”

There’s a second’s pause before a deep humming sound through the walls.

“Binghe I- I told you about using the blood parasites to– ahhhh!”

Shen Qingqiu’s yelp is loud. Liu Qingge throws the blankets off himself thinking that Lou Binghe is hurting Shen Qingqiu, torturing him with his blood parasites. Except the moment he’s out of bed and the chilled air embraces him, the yelp turns into a prolonged moan, doubled by short, soft sounds from the other man. Liu Qingge stands frozen clutching his sword trying to figure out what he’s hearing.

Soft moans. A whimper. Something from Luo Binghe about feeling good.

A low creak of a bed bumping against a wall.

Horror fills Liu Qingge when he realizes what he’s hearing. When he realizes that Shen Qingqiu’s soft, breathy moans between kisses are not only heard through the walls but amplified as though to ensure Liu Qingge can hear it. He can hear the smack of their kisses and the slap of skin pressed together. His cheeks turn bright pink and he grabs a cloak. Flinging it over his shoulders he leaves the side room at a run, his feet carrying him to the spiritual caves where he can meditate.

It does little to help. All he can think about is the soft ~Ah~  from Shen Qingqiu’s lips shooting through the wall straight into his mind, swallowing it whole and sending a shiver through his entire body.

He doesn’t mention it the first time. He scribbles down his own silencing talismen and places them on the wall between their beds. For a while it works, until it doesn’t and the moans are even louder. This time he can hear every word the two say, every grunt and groan and whimper shared between them.

The following morning, after another night spent outside instead of his comfortable, warm bed, Liu Qingge sits by the pond with Shen Qingqiu. As several fish gather to eat the crumbs of a lemony cake Shen Qingqiu tosses out, Liu Qingge puffs himself up and says, “The walls are very thin.”

Shen Qingqiu stiffens, already able to guess where this is heading. As part of preparing the room for Liu Qingge to move in, he and Luo Binghe added small silencing talisman. He realized it would be necessary after Luo Binghe cried about their sex life with someone else living in the next room and Shen Qingqiu knew he would rather die of embarrassment than let them be heard. The problem is that with time talismans can weaken. He thought that he and Luo Binghe had replaced them all in the last few days when Liu Qingge was training, ensuring their private affairs stay private, but alas, they must have missed one and now an uncomfortable situation unfolds.

At least Liu Qingge isn’t laughing like the skinner did when she heard Luo Binghe’s desire to tie him up, nor is he drooling over that awful porn ballad that sparks inspiration in Luo Binghe’s heart at least once a month…including last night.

Shen Qingqiu covers his face with his hand, clearing his throat and simply says, “We’ll be more quiet in future.”

He’s relieved that Liu Qingge says nothing more on the subject. He says nothing more at all. They both merely sit by the pond slowly drinking their tea and eating the small cakes Luo Binghe made before having to leave back to the demon realm for half a day. They only part when Shang Qinghua wanders up with a stack of papers for each of them to both sort through and approve shipments and deliveries to their respective peaks.

“Um, Shang-shidi,” Shen Qingqiu says. “Would you mind coming inside to help me with these? You’re okay with that, right, Liu Qingge?”

Liu Qingge gathers his stack of papers to read through. “Mn. I should return to Bai Zhan anyways.”

They depart in different directions. The moment Liu Qingge has his back to them, Shen Qingqiu grabs Shang Qinghua by the scruff and drags him not inside but into the side room.

“What’s going on?” Shang Qinghua chokes. He pulls at his collar where Shen Qingqiu tugs hard enough to cut off his airways. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t say anything. He releases Shang Qinghua as soon as he slams the door shut and starts hunting the walls.

“Help me look.”

Shang Qinghua starts pawing through the room unsure of what they’re looking for. Still confused he asks, “What exactly are we looking for?”

“Silencing talismans.”

That only grows Shang Qinghua’s confusion as he flips through books. “Why would Liu Qingge be hiding a silencing talisman around? Do you think he’s up to something? Didn’t he just move in three weeks ago?”

“He’s hiding nothing.” Shen Qingqiu finds one he placed several weeks ago on the baseboard and grabs it, pulling it close to his face to inspect. “What’s wrong is apparently they aren’t working.”

“Why does it matter if they’re working?” Shang Qinghua asks. He isn’t even trying to look anymore and instead is taking in the room that was never meant to hold anyone at all when he wrote it.

“Because Liu Qingge heard us.”

“Heard you what?”

“Do you have shit for brains? Or are you just trying to make me say it?” Shen Qingqiu throws his fan at Shang Qinghua’s head as if he’s trying to be obtuse. “Don’t you dare call Mobei-jun to come rescue you. You’re helping me. You made this whole mess with the empty gourd you call a head.”

Shang Qinghua throws his arms over his head to cower without any real fear now that Shen Qingqiu’s fan has clattered to the floor. “What?? I’m not! How is this my fault!? WHat did he hear?”

“Everything here is your fault.” Shen Qingqiu slaps the talisman back onto the wall and searches for the next. “Therefore it’s your fault Liu Qingge heard Binghe and I… you know.”

Shang Qinghua clicks his tongue. “Having regrets?”

“A lot of them.”

“Mmhmmm,” Shang Qinghua hums suggestively.

“What?”

“You don’t know the euphemism yet, do you?”

Shen Qingqiu halts his hunt to study Shang Qinghua. “What euphemism?”

“You and Binghe. Having regrets.”

No... No.

“That cannot be what they call–”

“You two having sex? Yep. Just like the book.”

“Oh fuck me” Shen Qingqiu groans throwing his head back. “I wish you hadn’t told me. Yes. Lots and lots of regrets. I have so many regrets right now. So help me so that no one else hears our fucking regrets.”

Finally, with a loud laugh, Shang Qinghua is helpful and starts hunting for the talesmen. They’ve found most of them, ten out of the twelve he and Luo Binghe made when Shang Qinghua goes, “huh…”

“What?” Shen Qingqiu scurries to his side to peer over his shoulder.

“Well, this one is inverted.”

“IT’S WHAT?”

Shen Qingqiu grabs the paper out of Shang Qinghua’s hand certain he’s wrong. But ever good with detail as the head of admin for the entire sect, Shang Qinghua is right. There is a single line angled wrong to strike through the center, inversing the entire spell to amplify sound from the connecting wall directly under the headboard of Liu Qingge’s bed.

Shen Qingqiu is starting to feel queasy. Or frantic. Or some other mess of emotions that he has to smooth over so that no one can see the chaos in his mind.

“FUCK!”

Ever unhelpful, Shang Qinghua laughs again. A true cackle of delight at Shen Qingqiu’s horror.

“At least it looks like it was Binghe who accidentally flipped them and not you. You better break it to him gently though. Your little Bingmeimei is tender-hearted, a true maiden who would faint if he knew someone else was listening. Especially his mortal enemy.”

Shen Qingqiu decides to fight the only point he can and weakly says, “They’re not enemies.”

“Mmm” Shang Qinghua scrunches his lips together. “I kind of think they are. Either way, one just heard the other fucking you so right now you’re public enemy number one.”

“You know what? Get out.”

Shang Qinghua laughs and scrambles out of the room as Shen Qingqiu systematically corrects each and every one, double and triple checking that they are, indeed, silencing spells. He carefully places them back up on the walls. Double checks them. Triple checks them. And returns to the main house to find Shang Qinghua sprawling, forging import requests from Shen Qingqiu to fulfill his own desires that might not otherwise be approved by Yue Qingyuan if it weren’t Shen Qingqiu asking. 

“Are you going to tell Binghe?” Shang Qinghua asks when Shen Qingqiu slumps down next to him, dragging over the bowl of snacks Shang Qinghua dug out for himself. 

“No.”

Yes. But carefully. Very, very carefully.

That ‘carefully’ arrives that night when Luo Binghe returns. Shen Qingqiu waits at the base of the mountain to walk up with him left anyone dare try to tell him that he isn’t welcome on the peak. Luo Binghe wraps himself around Shen Qingqiu like a leach, burying him in kisses that are only not brushed off because of the blanket of the cool night. Only the lanterns up the stairs cast light, and with the low fog the light is caught in a warm glow.

“This husband missed you,” Luo Binghe hums. He smiles against the soft skin of Shen Qingqiu’s neck and punctuates with a kiss that tickles. 

“Did you get what you needed done?” Shen Qingqiu asks. He ruffles Luo Binghe’s hair and slips his hand into his palm so they can start walking home together. “Do we need to go back?”

“No. Mobei-jun is doing what needs to be done.”

“Hm?”

“We’re giving up the border to the South.”

Shen Qingqiu makes a questioning sound. He always liked that region. It’s a little more wild and unkempt with interesting plants and creatures to study. But it has also caused tensions as the edge of Luo Binghe’s rule and a point of violent clashes. Luo Binghe, uninterested in being a warlord king, doesn’t want the headache of clashing borders drawing him from his husband.

“It’s not worth it. This way I don’t need to go back without you.”

“Sticky,” Shen Qingqiu replies.

“I did require a clause saying you have a summer house in the reclaimed territory. And you can pass imperiously through. Like a regent.”

Shen Qingqiu pats his head. “You’re such a good boy. So generous.”

“I like giving my husband everything he wants.” Luo Binghe tugs him closer. He’s subtle enough that Shen Qingqiu doesn’t realize until it’s too late that his hand is cupping his ass. A heavy want rushes through him that he didn’t realize he would feel. He’s not used to spending time away from Luo Binghe and even just the span of a day made him miss him more than he thought. Throughout the day he was distracted but now just the two of them on the path it comes crashing down on him all at once. It’s the opposite feeling of when Luo Binghe first returned from the abyss and he couldn’t put enough distance between them. Now the single pace separating them is a chasm that must be crossed at all costs.

An outstretched hand maintains the distance between them, Shen Qingqiu’s fingers pressed against Luo Binghe’s chest. 

“Not here,” Shen Qingqiu says with more resolve than should be required.

Luo Binghe looks up and down the path. 

“No one is here.” He gives Shen Qingqiu’s ass a squeeze. He closes the space between them so their chests are pressed together. He has to crane his neck downwards to look Shen Qingqiu in his eyes with a hopeful smile that will so easily break into tears. Such a delicate maiden heart he has. His heart is made of thin, beautifully ornate glass, not charred steel. 

When Luo Binghe exhales a plume of breath floats from his lips. It meets the cold breath that escapes Shen Qingqiu, the two exhales rising and dispersing as one.

His hand is warm over the hand pressing against his heart. Shen Qingqiu can feel the heavy beat rising in desire on the lonely path. If Shen Qingqiu rose to his tip toes he could plant a perfect kiss on those full, soft lips quirked into a smile at him.

“Binghe, not here.”

Luo Binghe frowns and tilts his head.

“No one is coming. Are you just going to leave me?” His smile falls into a deep frown. “You always leave me…”

“No. No Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu brushes a curl out of his face. “Of course I’m not. I want us both to go back home. Together.”

“Okay!”

The world twists. Shen Qingqiu is scooped into Luo Binghe’s arms and they both rise high and fast on Luo Binghe’s sword. For a man who rarely flies because he prefers to perch on the tip of Shen Qingqiu’s sword, he certainly remembers how. Any stories of being rusty are proven a lie as he navigates the darkness and trees and outcroppings of stone to deliver them both right in front of their front door.

Luo Binghe pulls his husband inside at a run. He spins the second they’re through the door and, with expert precision, gives a single tug at Shen Qingqiu’s robes causing the outermost layers to fall away. They stumble through the expanse of fallen fabric, bodies pressed together until they hit a wall. Luo Binghe pins Shen Qingqiu against it. He mouths against Shen Qingqiu’s neck, enjoying the way his head tilts to give him more space to work and a soft moan rises in his throat. The way he swallows, how his adam’s apple rises and falls against Luo Binghe’s lips, envelopes him in pleasure as though he’s swallowing Luo Binghe. Usually his husband has to be worked into such a state of want. 

His hand is in Shen Qingqiu’s pants, stroking him to hardness. Between wet kisses he ruts against Shen Qingqiu, relishing and hating the layers of fabric causing friction between them. It makes it exciting to have something left to remove, to tear off him with fervent desperation. For now he delights in rhythmically rutting Shen Qingqiu against the wall while he jerks him off. Shen Qingqiu’s heavy breath in his ear and hands digging into his arms is everything he needs. He could be, and has been, sated with the very idea of Shen Qingqiu standing in the next room. To have him pressed against him, cock in hand and biting back greedy whimpers makes Luo Binghe feel insane.

Shen Qingqiu does not tell Lou Binghe about the silencing talisman being inversed right then. Instead, he tells him after as they lay in bed together, their bodies pressed close with big spoon Shen Qingqiu wrapping his arms around Luo Binghe’s chest. 

“So…” Shen Qingqiu tentatively says, trying not to trick Luo Binghe into thinking he’s up for a second round already. Luo Binghe twists his head around to awkwardly kiss his husband. Shen Qingqiu keeps from scrunching his face and presses on. “I fixed them, but today when I was cleaning the side room I noticed that some of the silencing talismans were written out wrong…”

Luo Binghe remains silent, hoping his rapidly beating heart doesn’t betray him. It doesn’t. The more Shen Qingqiu talks, the more he is confident that Shen Qingqiu thinks he wrote them wrong by accident. Luo Binghe will let him keep thinking that as long as he can keep the lie up. In truth, Luo Binghe purposefully inversed the silencing spell. 

It isn’t that he wants Liu Qingge to hear them. In fact, he doesn’t want anyone else to ever hear Shizun again. Or look at. Or talk to. And certainly not smile at. But as they organized the room all those weeks ago, Luo Binghe had the devious thought that Liu Qingge has a stick up his ass and wouldn’t like listening to their fervent love-making. Especially if Luo Binghe made sure that he was the main thing Liu Qingge heard and not Shen Qingqiu. The idea felt kind of like marking his territory, telling Liu Qingge that Shen Qingqiu is his and if he doesn’t want to be reminded of it he can get out.

Unfortunately for Luo Binghe, his attempts to make Liu Qingge get out have been unsuccessful so far. From sex noises to invading his dreams, Liu Qingge stubbornly remains. The only thing Luo Binghe knows will work is the tip of his sword and he’s not allowed to do that both because of the baby and because of his husband.

His husband who is far too friendly with Liu Qingge, inviting him to eat with them and even prying out of the man the fact that he has been suffering cravings AND making Luo Binghe cook said dishes for the homewrecker hussy. 

Yes. It is really the worst betrayal his husband has ever inflicted on him because it's to be suffered right now. As they all sit around the table eating crispy bottomed pork buns Luo Binghe glares at the homewrecker who ignores him entirely to hog Shen Qingqiu’s attention.

Without warning he reaches out a hand to lay it on Liu Qingge’s stomach. Palm wide, he channels demonic qi into him to make the fetus inside dance with life and Liu Qingge jolt at the sensation. And if Liu Qingge tries to smack him off he can say he’s being helpful because Mu Qingfang said that Liu Qingge needs regular exposure to demonic qi to prevent a qi deviation and if Liu Qingge is unwilling to sleep with a demon this microdosing is the next best thing. So he has to sit with Luo Binghe’s hand flat over his stomach, glaring at him and so clearly wanting to run him through with a sword.

Shen Qingqiu, meanwhile, still blissfully unaware of the silent power struggle taking place under his nose the last nearly four months, beams at the two of them getting along and continues to ask Liu Qingge how training for the Immortal Alliance Conference is going. Liu Qingge ignores Luo Binghe as best he can and answers in detail what trainings he's running their disciples through. Everyone notices Shen Qingqiu’s attention regarding the conference is a masked worry over what happened last time Cang Qiong attended and Luo Binghe was shoved into the Endless Abyss. 

And unfortunately for everyone, part of that worry means him wanting to work with the organizers to ensure a safe event. This means at the start of Liu Qingge's fourth month of pregnancy, Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua step on their swords and leave the peaks just as winter arrives.

And even more unfortunately for a poor, miserable, utterly innocent Luo Binghe, Liu Qingge’s energy imbalance leads to him falling ill on the third day of Shen Qingqiu’s absence. 

“You are not rubbing my feet, demon!” Liu Qingge hisses kicking out at Liu Qinge who towers over the foot of the bed in a most menacing fashion. It’s a weak, sickly kick that Luo Binghe swats aside with ease.

“The book Shizun gave me said pregnant people have sore feet and need foot rubs to feel better. Do you want to get better or not?”

“Not from you touching me.” Liu Qingge grabs his blankets and rolls, all tucked in like a caterpillar in his cocoon. His feet are twisted in the blankets to make double sure Luo Binghe can’t touch them. Luo Binghe is ready to snap the bed in half in frustration that not only does he have this homewrecker in his home even while his husband is away, but he’s personally responsible for taking care of him. And he must actually be sick if he’s acting like this so Luo Binghe can’t just abandon him or Liu Qingge will tell on him.

“Fine.” Luo Binghe says. He’ll coax and coo his husband when he feels off but he’s not going to baby the homewrecker. He turns on his heel and leaves the room back to the main house. There he sits reading before tossing the book down and stomping back to the doorway of Liu Qingge’s room in a menacing fashion.

“Are you actually sick?” he asks.

Silence.

Lou Binghe glowers at the form on the bed and stomps back to his own room. He sits and reads for a moment more before stomping back again to ask Liu Qingge again. When there’s no answer he stomps all the way back to his and Shen Qingqiu’s bed where he lays down and closes his eyes. Stupid Liu Qingge making him baby him like this. It really is awful his enemy decided to steal his baby and then make him take care of him. But he can’t help but feel possessive over the baby. It’s his baby. His and Shen Qingqiu’s baby. And if Liu Qingge tried to disagree all it would take is examining the demonic qi running through his body to prove that the baby is, at least in part, at least ⅓, his baby regardless of what Liu Qingge says. And no matter how bitter about the situation Luo Binghe is, he wants to take care of his baby.

Plus, again, the paramount, most important, only thing that matters point remains that Shen Qingqiu would be upset if he found out Luo Binghe didn’t take care of Liu Qingge while he was away.

Luo Binghe closes his eyes and lets his irritation drag him off to sleep.

Liu Qingge spots Luo Binghe in his dream right away. He’s prepared for it now. He expects a stalker or an ambush in his dreams and attacks immediately with extreme violence that Luo Binghe was not expecting given how sick he is in the waking world. The only hint of his illness is that the dream feels hot and humid.

They’re both sweating and breathing hard as they fight, the humidity causing their sweat to cling to them. Their bodies slam together with hard thuds that shake them both, their limbs twisting and entwining before ripping apart to reclaim their respective swords and swing again. In the dream Liu Qingge is not pregnant so he can fling the full force of all his attacks at Luo Binghe and Lou Binghe has no reason to hold back against him.

For a fraction of a second it looks as though Liu Qingge might beat Luo Binghe but only because he still holds a slight hesitation to kill Liu Qingge in his dream. He forced his way into Liu Qingge’s head to make sure that he’s actually sick and to fucking ask what the homewrecker wants for dinner and if he has any weird cravings that need sated and instead Liu Qingge is attacking him, snarling that he’s not going to let his feet be touched and he’s not leaving no matter how many times Luo Binghe tells him to get out because this is all his fault.

Luo Binghe is never going to be the good guy ever again. Not to Liu Qingge.

The second Liu Qingge slams him against a wall with enough force to crack his skull, Luo Binghe manages to out maneuver him. It might be Liu Qingge’s dream but Luo Binghe is still in control. The wall gives way, soft like a bed to cushion his slam. He twists using Liu Qingge’s momentum against him to roll them against the padded wall and pinning Liu Qingge against it instead. He slams his whole bodyweight against Liu Qingge. He keeps it there. Their bodies pressed tightly together as they both gasp for breath. Liu Qingge twists under him with a low grunt, his teeth bared and a hiss telling Luo Binghe to get off him.

Lou Binghe pushes himself harder against Liu Qingge. He catches his wrist and pins it to the wall. Luo Binghe snarls, “Shizun said I have to take care of you.”

“Do you have a kumquat instead of brains?” Liu Qingge snarls and tries to jerk his leg upwards to knee Luo Binghe in the crotch. “How is this taking care of anyone except your own desire to chase me out of my sect? If you want to be an overbearing king go back to the demon realm.”

With his other hand Luo Binghe presses against Liu Qingge’s stomach. He’s surprised to feel it totally flat and can’t help but feel frustrated that Liu Qingge would dare dream himself without Shen Qingqiu’s baby when Luo Binghe would proudly carry that same baby even in his sleep.

With equal anger plus more, Luo Binghe replies “I’m making sure you’re actually sick and asking if my little one wants something for dinner but you decided to fall asleep.”

“I fell asleep because you kept me up all day stalking me.” Liu Qingge manages squeeze out of Luo Binghe’s grasp.

Basically yelling now Luo Binghe replies “I’m doing what Shizun told me to!”

They both go still at the ferocious yell, the tension in the room breaking into something far more awkward. It’s a sweltering heat pressing down on them both. A heat that draws fatigue into the bones and an unsettled feeling in Luo Binghe’s stomach. He feels like sick with a deep fever too now. He glares at Liu Qingge and spits “I don’t like you.”

“I don’t like you either.”

Unsaid by either is I like Shen Qingqiu.

I want Shen Qingqiu’s baby.

Luo Binghe makes an ugly face and says, “I’m making noodles and braised pork. Wake up if you want any.”

With that Luo Binghe wakes and starts cooking. He tries not to pour his dislike of Liu Qingge into the food and instead focus on the same love the he pours into meals he prepares for Shen Qingqiu, or the love his mother poured into the meals she made for him to nourish his child and the homewrecker. It’s just hard because he really, really misses his husband. It’s been so long since he was apart for more than just a day. Even a day and a night feels like far too long and now he’s been gone for days.

The lonely house feels a little too much like when he cradled his shizun’s dead body for all those years.

Luo Binghe would cry except there’s no one to see his tears and pity him with a head pat.

Liu Qingge is still asleep when Luo Binghe brings the food despite saying he wouldn’t. He doesn’t wake him, but feeling weirdly lonely and remembering the horrid era when he and Liu Qingge spent fighting was his only real company, Luo Binghe remains lurking in the room like a demonic shadow until the man wakes and eats in silence while watching the demon in the corners.

Strangely, he doesn’t try to kick Luo Binghe out and even grumbles something that sounds like a thanks for the salty noodles.