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Chapter Text

Years Ago

A heavy crash sounded in the distance, the ground trembling ever-so-slightly underfoot. The human Huan Hua disciples—always so skittish—let out noises of fear and rushed away from the signs of a fight. The demons in disguise, on the other hand, rushed towards it.

“He’s here, he’s here!”

They shedded their disguises as they went, knowing no humans would stick around in the area. Their small group perched themselves in a hidden alcove to watch the show, arriving just in time to see Luo Binghe raise Xin Mo and point it threateningly at the man across from him, who was climbing angrily out of a pile of rubble.

“Back again, Liu Qingge?” Luo Binghe asked, twirling his sword with a manic look in his eyes. “Do you actually think you can beat me, or do you simply love the taste of defeat?”

One of the demons in the group raised a hand to feign fanning themself.

Instead of responding, Liu Qingge gritted his teeth and surged forward, swinging his sword in a high arc above his head. Luo Binghe met it head-on in a clash of metal, and the two quickly started exchanging blows.

“I can’t believe I finally get to watch one of these!” One demon whispered excitedly.

“Isn’t it so romantic?” a cat-lizard demon responded. “They fight like this all the time.”

“All the time?”

“And what’s even better: they’re fighting over a third person—the man set to be Junshang’s first wife.” The cat-lizard demon clutched a hand over her heart, faux-swooning. “Ugh, how lucky for Junshang to have two suitors like this, who are clearly also harmonious with each other if one is willing to fight for the other’s sake.”

“I’m so jealous!”

“Didn’t something similar happen with the lord of the Hudie clan a while back?”

“Does Junshang ever lose?”

“Of course not.” The cat-lizard demon shook her head just as Luo Binghe sent Liu Qingge crashing into the wall again, as if to prove her point. “He has to show he can protect both of his future wives, after all.”

Everyone nodded in understanding, some sighing dreamily at the romance of it all.

They all knew not to say anything about the matter to Luo Binghe’s face. For some reason, Junshang didn’t like when others brought up this second paramour of his. Possessiveness, probably. Perhaps he was worried that too much discussion would cause other demons to take interest, since it seemed Liu Qingge still had yet to concede to Luo Binghe’s outstanding victories in their courting challenges.

No matter. Luo Binghe’s inevitable success in curing the mysterious ailment of his first wife would surely prove him worthy of the second, and the three of them would happily settle down together soon after.

Present Day

—As such, please consider this a small trifle in hopes of aiding Junshang’s endeavors in winning over his second wife. Our clan has full faith that Junshang will succeed, and looks forward to his future marriage to Liu—

Luo Binghe crushed the letter in his fist, and the offending paper soon went up in smoke.

What second wife? What future marriage? And this ‘trifle’ that was offered—it was one of those plants that Shen Qingqiu disdainfully referred to as a ‘sex pollen’ when he thought Luo Binghe couldn’t hear!

How dare this clan try to besmirch his and Shizun’s marriage by having the gall to suggest Luo Binghe take on a second wife?! And worse, to suggest Liu Qingge of all people.

No, naming Liu Qingge wasn’t actually the worst part. The worst part was that this was far from the first letter Luo Binghe had received on this exact subject. At least the lords who tried to push their unsuspecting daughters onto him had a sliver of political sense in trying to gain power; what the hell did these other clans hope to gain from pushing him to marry the Bai Zhan War God? Did they think Luo Binghe would tame the brute into killing fewer demons? He ought to prove them wrong by siccing him on them!

“Binghe?” A familiarly cool, even voice sounded, and Luo Binghe whipped around in his seat to find Shen Qingqiu standing behind him, a questioning look on his face as he eyed the ashes in Luo Binghe’s hand. “Is something the matter?”

Ah. He must have snuck into his office in hopes of watching Luo Binghe work without being noticed.

“Shizun!” Luo Binghe stood and quickly dusted the ash off his hands before clutching at his husband’s sleeve with a strained smile. “Nothing’s the matter, Shizun!”

Shen Qingqiu stared at him expressionlessly, save for a single eyebrow that slowly, slowly climbed his face.

Luo Binghe immediately crumbled.

“It’s nothing worthy of Shizun’s concern!” he insisted, calling forth tears to his eyes to present to his husband along with a pitiful pout. “Just some incompetents trying to stir up discord. This dis— This husband is taking care of it.”

The use of the word ‘husband’ worked like a charm as it often did; Shen Qingqiu softened and reached up with his free hand to pat his head. “Binghe is working hard, then. I shouldn’t have interrupted.”

Luo Binghe leaned into his touch with a besotted expression. “Shizun can interrupt any time he wants.”

Shen Qingqiu scoffed. With both hands occupied, he couldn’t reach for his fan to cover his reddening face, and Luo Binghe took the opportunity to lean in and kiss him.

It used to be that Shen Qingqiu would push him away, would feign reluctance in the face of Luo Binghe’s open desire. When they were first figuring things out—before their marriage and for a while afterwards—Shen Qingqiu was slow to accept pleasure and skirted away from many touches. Luo Binghe had assumed it was his thin face, but still privately worried it was partially motivated by some secret, hidden dislike of Luo Binghe that lingered even after everything.

But one night, Shen Qingqiu had gotten phenomenally drunk off of some wine from Zui Xian Peak and confessed the truth: that he felt overwhelmed and even frightened by how much he desired Luo Binghe and by how deeply that desire ran. He went on to explain that the way he acted in bed was because he simply didn’t know what to do with all of his feelings.

(His actual words were much less coherent and were spoken between hiccups and mysteriously disparaging words about Shang Qinghua, but Luo Binghe understood all the same.)

That single confession didn’t turn things around overnight, of course—in fact, Shen Qingqiu had spent the entire next week in an embarrassment-driven avoidant state. Since then, it had been slow work for the both of them; Luo Binghe in learning how to control himself and please his shizun without hurting him (save for the wondrous times when Shen Qingqiu wanted to be hurt), and Shen Qingqiu in learning how to open up and be direct in what he liked and didn’t like. Now, a few years later, Luo Binghe thought they had reached quite the equilibrium.

Said equilibrium was proven when Shen Qingqiu immediately sank into the kiss with a hum, his hand moving from the top of Luo Binghe’s head to cup the back of it, drawing him closer. Luo Binghe released his sleeve to wrap his arms around his husband’s waist, relishing in the way Shen Qingqiu pressed against him as he lined their bodies together.

Luo Binghe trailed his lips along his jawline to his ear. “Since Husband has already interrupted my work, perhaps he’d be interested in helping me…unwind?”

Shen Qingqiu averted his gaze. “There isn’t a daybed in here, Binghe,” he said, despite the fact that they had fucked in this room countless times. It was a fake protest, Luo Binghe knew. A line his husband sometimes said like it was part of some required script. A way to comfort himself, Luo Binghe had learned.

“There’s a desk,” Luo Binghe responded like always.

Some days, Shen Qingqiu would keep up the reluctant façade a bit longer, huffing and saying that of course they couldn’t use the desk (even though they always did), as a signal that he wanted Luo Binghe to manhandle him and push him down. Others, he’d hum thoughtfully before moving to perch on the edge of the desk, spreading his legs to invite his disciple between them. Luo Binghe could never decide which option he liked more.

Today turned out to be the latter case, and Luo Binghe wasted no time dropping to his knees between his shizun’s thighs and getting to work undoing his robes.

He quickly forgot all about the damned letter.

Until the next incident happened.

This time, Luo Binghe was in the north, graciously visiting his second-in-command and giving Shen Qingqiu time with Shang Qinghua that the former would falsely claim was both unwanted and unneeded. Luo Binghe liked to hold court here in Mobei-Jun’s palace sometimes—especially when those seeking an audience with him were the sort that didn’t do well in this climate.

Case in point: the demoness currently kneeling before him who appeared to be made entirely of magma. Her form was vaguely humanoid, composed of a deep black rock with spider-webbing veins of glowing orange cracking the surface. Said glow progressively dimmed in the cold of the Northern Desert as she aired out her grievances with some neighboring clan who was infringing on her clan’s territory.

Feeling incredibly bored, Luo Binghe lazily waved a hand and told the demoness that he would ensure a firmly set border between the territories. She responded with excessive prostrating and thanks, as though he just told her some miracle rather than settled a mere territory dispute. It was all quite tiresome.

Neither Shen Qingqiu nor Shang Qinghua were present—off discussing their mutual love of yellow books and whatever else they might have in common—which Luo Binghe counted as a good thing when he heard the magma demoness’ next words:

“And of course, if Junshang permits,” she said, offering up a well-hewn obsidian box, “our clan would like to offer in gratitude our most treasured Molten Stone of Enduring Lust, which would make a fine courting gift for Junshang’s second—”

His fist punched through her chest before she could get out the last word, having flashstepped from the throne and struck with lighting-fast speed. Luo Binghe crushed the ball of fire that served as these demons’ source of life in his fist, barely registering the burn as he did so. Immediately, the orange fissures on her body dimmed and faded and she collapsed to the ground, rendered to no more than an inert pile of rocks.

Luo Binghe casually dusted himself off, the only indicator of his anger being the way his nostrils flared, puffs of breath coming out more like steam in the cold air. He turned to address the audience, half of which were quivering in fear while the other half were excited by the show of violence.

His voice came out deep and even, “Anyone who dares bring up the subject of this lord taking on a second wife can expect to meet this”—he gestured towards the pile of rocks—“sort of fate. Is that understood?”

There was a chorus of confirmation, and Luo Binghe immediately stalked out of the throne room, a deep scowl set on his face. He wanted, more than anything, to see his husband—his only husband—right now, but he should cool off rather than face Shen Qingqiu while still full of anger. If that happened, he might snap at Shen Qingqiu. Worse, Shen Qingqiu would ask why he was so upset, and then Luo Binghe would have to tell him—

He pivoted and made for the office he kept here rather than their private quarters, all the while frustrated and confused as to why this kept happening. Why did all of these demons undermine him so? Why were they so fixated on Liu Qingge especially?

“Junshang.” Mobei-Jun appeared from the shadows soon after Luo Binghe slammed the door behind himself, having teleported to catch up after dismissing the court.

“Why?” Luo Binghe rounded on him. “Why does this keep happening?! Has this lord not been clear in his devotion towards his wife? Do the clan heads wish to undermine my marriage to Shizun by suggesting such a thing? And why Liu-fucking-Qingge of all people?!”

Mobei-Jun wisely kept silent, watching him pace and rant.

“Do they wish to destabilize my relationship with my husband? Do they think I would be more easily taken advantage of and bent to their whims if they succeeded? Do they think this lord so incapable?” He stopped and whirled around to face him. “Well? Answer.”

Mobei-Jun visibly hesitated. “May this one speak plainly?”

That got Luo Binghe’s attention; part of the reason why he approved of Mobei-Jun as his second-in-command was that he didn’t tend to mince words or dance around subjects, always willing to be blunt even when it irritated Luo Binghe. The fact that he was explicitly asking to speak plainly must mean that whatever he was about to say might greatly upset Luo Binghe.

After a moment’s consideration, he gestured his permission. “Go ahead.”

“Humans and demons view romance differently,” Mobei-Jun started. “It is…something that took me a long time to understand.”

Yes, Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua’s rocky courtship was something that Luo Binghe had heard much about over the years from Shen Qingqiu and others—and even from Mobei-Jun himself, when one day he shocked Luo Binghe by prostrating before him out of nowhere and asking how he succeeded in winning his human’s love, his tone desperate in a way Luo Binghe had never heard before. Those two managed to sort their shit out soon after that, and by now it had been about a year since they married.

“The point?” Luo Binghe prompted.

“Qinghua often reminds me that violence does not mean the same thing for humans as it does for demons. When humans court, they give gifts and recite poems and spend time in each other’s presence. When demons court…” Mobei-Jun met his eye. “They fight.”

Luo Binghe stared at him.

“…Junshang spent approximately five years constantly fighting that one peak lord.”

Luo Binghe’s eyebrow started twitching, and he lifted a hand to press against it. “So you’re telling me,” he said, “that when I was beating that brute to keep him from stealing Shizun’s body…” He inhaled deeply, then let out the breath in a rushed exhale. “Everyone in the Demon Realm thought that we were…courting?”

“Yes.”

“Get out.”

Mobei-Jun got out.

Fury boiled in Luo Binghe’s veins, making him feel like a pot about to burst. He grabbed the nearest ice sculpture and chucked it at the opposite wall as hard as he could, watching it shatter into chunks and fine powder. He threw a second one for good measure, though the sound of ice cracking wasn’t as cathartic as he wished it was. It would be much better to crack the heads of all those demons who wanted him to betray his shizun by marrying another man.

…He shouldn’t do that, though. It would be a lot of mess to clean up, both literally- and politically-speaking, and Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t like the excessive violence. Worse, it would clue him in to the fact that there was even a problem to begin with. It was a miracle Shen Qingqiu hadn’t yet heard about this nonsense, if it was really as widespread as Mobei-Jun claimed, and especially since Shen Qingqiu was friends with—

Luo Binghe abruptly turned on his heel and rushed down the hall in a flurry of robes. He dramatically flung open the doors to his and Shen Qingqiu’s private quarters, finding his husband at the low table in the main room with Shang Qinghua. Both of their heads snapped up as he entered, one looking terrified and the other mildly startled. Sitting on the table in front of them was a familiar obsidian box, which the two peak lords had been curiously peeking into before Luo Binghe arrived. From this angle, he couldn’t see its contents, and frankly didn’t even recall what was supposed to be inside.

“L-Lord Luo!” Shang Qinghua bolted to his feet to salute him. He had grown increasingly more comfortable with occasionally dropping formalities due to the amount of time they spent around each other, but such formalities were back in full force now, in the face of Luo Binghe’s temper. “This— It’s standard protocol that any gifts my lord rejects be brought to this advisor to catalog and make decisions on!”

Yes, Luo Binghe knew this; it was precisely why he’d rushed here. Unfortunately, it seemed he was too late to prevent Shizun from seeing the damned thing.

“Binghe, what is the meaning of this?” Shen Qingqiu asked, still seated in a relaxed manner that belied the way his brows were drawn with concern. “This master heard you killed one of your petitioners during court.”

Luo Binghe shot Shang Qinghua an accusing glare, despite the fact that he wasn’t even present in court today and therefore couldn’t possibly be the one who told Shen Qingqiu. Still, Shang Qinghua got the message and nervously sidled towards the door. “Ahaha, this servant knows when he isn’t needed! I’ll just— See ya later, Cucumber-bro!”

He dashed out remarkably fast and shut the doors on his way out, giving Luo Binghe no chance to command he take the fucking box with him.

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu gave him a significant look and tapped the cushion next to himself with his fan.

Luo Binghe’s shoulders slumped, and he obediently moved to sit next to his husband. As he rounded the table, the object in the box came into view: a giant, ruby-red gemstone with a pulsating glow. It was beautiful, though garish in the way that many demonic things were.

Shen Qingqiu sat primly, eyeing Luo Binghe with an assessing gaze after he sat down. Then, he sighed and spread his arms.

Luo Binghe immediately fell into his husband’s embrace.

“Tell this husband what happened,” Shen Qingqiu murmured into the crown of his head after planting a kiss there.

The familiar anger flared up inside Luo Binghe before he forcefully stifled it. “It’s really nothing, Shizun,” he said, making his voice sound as wet and pathetic as possible as he spoke into his shoulder.

“I can’t imagine it was ‘nothing’ that motivated Binghe to take out the leader of the Yanjiang clan. Weren’t they just here for a territory dispute?”

Trust Shizun to be in the know about the goings-on of Luo Binghe’s court despite the fact that he rarely attended. “You know how demons are, Shizun; some like to say purposely infuriating things in hopes of riling others up.”

Shen Qingqiu made a considering noise. “This Molten Stone of Enduring Lust is far from a ‘purposely infuriating’ gift. The Yanjiang clan has very few of these, and guards them preciously. What was it that she said? Perhaps you misunderstood.”

Luo Binghe hesitated. He certainly did not misunderstand the demoness’ words, and perhaps rationally he now knew that they were not meant in a disrespectful manner. He also knew that proper communication was something that he and Shen Qingqiu had been working on over the years, but…

How could he bear to tell Shen Qingqiu that everyone in the Demon Realm wanted him to take a second wife?! Never mind who they wanted that wife to be!

Luo Binghe wouldn’t consider himself a coward, but he certainly felt like one as he mumbled, “Shizun need not concern himself; the matter is being taken care of.”

Shen Qingqiu sighed heavily. “How could this master not concern himself when he hears that his husband reacted so violently to the mere suggestion of taking a second w— husband?”

Luo Binghe jolted and pulled back, staring at Shen Qingqiu with a wild-eyed look. His husband met his gaze evenly, the faintest trace of smugness lining his fine features.

He knew.

Which meant Luo Binghe had a rat in his court.

“Who told you?” He demanded, expression dark with furious betrayal. As soon as he got his hands on whichever vermin went against direct orders from the emperor, he would—

“And why would I reveal that, ah?” Shen Qingqiu tutted, pinching both of his cheeks. “You would do away with them, and then how am I supposed to get any information when my silly husband is being ridiculous?”

The entire time he spoke, Shen Qingqiu pinched and pulled Luo Binghe’s cheeks, thoroughly ruining any threatening aura he might put out. Shen Qingqiu had once again outsmarted him—had planted someone in Luo Binghe’s court to relay him any information that his husband was reluctant to share. He was ever so cunning and clever, and now spoke to Luo Binghe as if he was simply a mischievous teenager and not the powerful emperor of the Demon Realm. Completely unafraid; a stark contrast to how they had once been.

Luo Binghe adored it.

“Shibun,” he whined, the word coming out wrong with his cheeks squished. He gave Shen Qingqiu his biggest, wettest eyes, and his husband released him with a sigh, patting his reddened cheeks to soothe them.

“Honestly, Binghe, this is just silly. You’ve never reacted so strongly to clans offering up one of their nobles for marriage before.” Shen Qingqiu frowned thoughtfully. “And the Yanjiang clan shouldn’t yet have anyone to offer up…”

“No one offered anyone up,” Luo Binghe grumbled. “It’s just a stupid misunderstanding due to the differences in courting customs that humans and demons have. This husband was being truthful when he said it was being dealt with.”

“What misunderstanding? Do they think you’ve been courting someone?”

Luo Binghe stiffened. “Well—”

“Binghe mentioned a difference in courting customs; were you referring to how demons court through fighting, then?” Shen Qingqiu’s thoughtful frown deepened. “But you fight many demons, and kill most of them. The ones who remain alive certainly know your battles were not mere courtship challenges.”

He really was too smart! “Shizun—”

“A human, then?” Shen Qingqiu ignored Luo Binghe’s interjection, mostly talking to himself now as he lowered his head and raised his closed fan to his lips. “Hm, if there’s a human that Binghe fights, it would make sense that the other party would not consider it a courtship fight while any observing demons would. But the only human you really fight is—”

His head snapped up, eyes wide. “Liu Qingge?!”

“Shizun, I swear it’s not like that!” Luo Binghe wailed as he threw himself into his husband’s lap, wrapping his arms tight around him and burying his face in his stomach. His words came out muffled against his robes. “This husband would never betray you in such away! And especially not with Liu…-shishu! It really is just a misunderstanding, and—”

He stopped, abruptly, as he registered the way Shen Qingqiu’s body shook in his hold. Confused, Luo Binghe pulled his head away and looked up to find his husband trying—and failing—to hide his smile behind his fan, shoulders shaking with restrained laughter.

“…Shizun?”

“I’m—I’m sorry Binghe, just—” He turned away, and Luo Binghe could see the way his lips twitched behind his fan. “Just the thought of you courting—courting Liu-shidi.” An inelegant snort escaped him. “Heh, even though he’s a human, he probably would appreciate that sort of method, pfft.” The shaking of his shoulders increased.

Luo Binghe stared up at him. “Shizun…isn’t upset?”

Shen Qingqiu huffed and snapped his fan shut to smack the top of his head, lips still twitching. “Why would I be upset? This is hardly all that different from the times demons have tried to shove new wives onto you, and those instances never upset me, did they? Plus, as Binghe said, it’s all a misunderstanding. What’s there to be upset about?”

That…was true. When Shen Qingqiu put it like that, it did all sound rather silly. In fact, Luo Binghe was starting to wonder why he himself got so riled up over the matter.

“Plus, can you imagine Liu Qingge marrying anyone?” Shen Qingqiu continued, still chuckling. “Liu Qingge dressed up as a bride? Scowling under his veil, forced out of his practical garb and into fine red robes…” He trailed off, expression suddenly shifting from amused to thoughtful.

Against his will, Luo Binghe’s mind also conjured up the image. Liu Qingge in wedding robes not dissimilar to the ones Shen Qingqiu had once worn, his sharp features softened and made ethereal by a red veil. Maintaining his scowl the entire time, even when the veil was lifted to reveal a flustered pink spreading across his face…

Luo Binghe immediately shoved the image away.

Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat, his fan once again covering his face. “In any case, killing every demon who dares to bring it up will do nothing to dissuade the misconception. If this master recalls correctly, there’s actually quite a simple solution to this entire thing. Though, Binghe won’t like it.”

At the mention of a solution, Luo Binghe perked up. “Whatever it is, this disciple is willing!”

Shen Qingqiu raised a disbelieving brow, then lowered his fan. “Anything?”

“Anything! Shizun, please tell this disciple what he has to do.”

His lips curved into a faint smirk. “You have to let Liu-shidi beat you.”

Chapter Text

Luo Binghe did not like the idea of losing to Liu Qingge.

For one, it wasn’t realistic. Luo Binghe was stronger and better than Liu Qingge—as evidenced by the fact that he had never once lost to the man. Unless Luo Binghe was severely, severely handicapped by a combination of poisons and injuries, Liu Qingge simply wasn’t capable of beating him.

Which was why, of course, Shen Qingqiu had specified that he needed to let him win.

Luo Binghe hated that idea more. The idea of willingly conceding to Liu Qingge, of holding back and allowing himself to be beaten by that infuriating man. And Liu Qingge would clock it immediately, because they both knew the impossibility of that outcome. Why Liu Qingge still constantly challenged him to fights despite this fact, Luo Binghe had no clue. He would be much more willing to handicap himself, but Shizun had been staunchly and firmly against the idea of him poisoning and injuring himself before challenging the Bai Zhan War God, for some reason.

Shen Qingqiu had been correct in that such a solution was simple, of course. In demonic culture, courtship often worked as follows: the challenger (in this case, Liu Qingge) sought out the contestant (in this case, Luo Binghe) for a fight in order to gain proof that the contestant was strong enough to protect the challenger in their future union. If the contestant won, then the challenger was meant to concede to this victory and accept the implied offer of marriage.

Of course, in many cases the challenger would insist on multiple battles so they could assure themselves that their chosen spouse was truly capable—which was what many demons apparently thought Liu Qingge was doing by returning to fight Luo Binghe again and again during…that period of time.

Idiots. He was clearly trying to steal Shizun away—did they think that was somehow part of the courtship ritual as well?

On that note, the contestant losing—especially on purpose, and especially after a string of wins—indicated a rejection and loss of interest that struck deeper in a way that words, somehow, didn’t. Luo Binghe didn’t quite understand why that was, and Shen Qingqiu didn’t seem to either. In short, losing to Liu Qingge served as the best and most efficient signal to the Demon Realm that their ‘courtship’ was over and done with.

If only the thought of doing such a thing weren’t so grating.

Eventually, Luo Binghe reluctantly agreed to the plan, reminding himself it was a much cleaner solution than ‘kill any demon who dares speak of the matter’—even though the latter would be far more cathartic. His first opportunity came a few weeks later, when the two of them returned to Qing Jing Peak.

Over the years, Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu had settled into a mostly-routine rotation regarding where they lived. A couple weeks at Huan Hua Palace, followed by a few months in Luo Binghe’s Underground Palace, followed by a week or two in the Northern Desert, followed by a few months on Qing Jing Peak for Shen Qingqiu to catch up on his own duties, followed by a sight-seeing trip and/or a vacation to their cottage, and then repeat. Sometimes either of their duties would temporarily call them away from each other or they had to cut their time in one place short, but for the most part it was a reliable routine.

Of course, Luo Binghe started to regret just how reliable their habits seemed to have become when they alighted on Qing Jing Peak to find a monster corpse already on the Bamboo House’s doorstep.

Shen Qingqiu sighed as he sheathed Xiu Ya, moving to nudge the monster with his foot. “Still seems fresh; Liu-shidi must have left it recently.” He turned to Luo Binghe. “Does Binghe think he could use this for our dinner?”

“This disciple can cook with anything,” he assured his master, though he shot the creature a disdainful look. Luo Binghe had never been fond of Liu Qingge’s habit of leaving these ‘gifts’ for Shen Qingqiu, but he liked it even less now that he had learned more about demonic courting techniques.

Before departing from the Northern Desert, Luo Binghe had demanded that Mobei-Jun tell him everything else about how demonic courting works, hoping for a secret second solution other than his current plan. Unfortunately, Mobei-Jun didn’t reveal one, but he did explain a few more elements of demonic courting to his half-human lord. One element being the fact that in many cases, the party in the ‘contestant’ role would further prove their strength by presenting their suitor with the bodies of their recent kills.

For a man that claimed to despise demons, how was it that Liu Qingge kept accidentally abiding by their courting methods?! And for that matter, the fact that he gifted these slain beasts to Shen Qingqiu would imply that he was courting Luo Binghe’s husband! And in the role of the contestant—the person meant to protect and provide for their partner!

As if Liu Qingge could protect Shen Qingqiu better than Luo Binghe!

Luo Binghe knew, rationally, that none of this was actually the case. Liu Qingge wasn’t even aware of demonic courting traditions, and he certainly wouldn’t have the gall to use them on two married men if he did. His obvious feelings for Shen Qingqiu were irritating, but the man was honorable—reluctant as Luo Binghe was to admit that. He was far from the sort to try and steal away someone’s husband, at the very least. It was this fact which had consoled Luo Binghe over the years; Liu Qingge might bluster about Luo Binghe being a demon and how he had dishonored his own master in the past, but he at least respected the fact that Shen Qingqiu loved him and married him of his own free will.

Still. Luo Binghe wished he didn’t always have to clean blood off their doorstep every time they returned to Qing Jing Peak.

It wasn’t until the next day that Liu Qingge actually showed up. This, too, had become routine over the years. Liu Qingge would arrive for tea with Shen Qingqiu on assorted days whenever the latter was at the sect. As soon as he stepped on the peak, he and Luo Binghe would glare at each other for a bit, then fight. Then, after Luo Binghe won, the two would straighten themselves out so as not to be disheveled during tea with Shen Qingqiu. This had become so ingrained in their routine that the spot near the Bamboo House where they always fought had gradually flattened into a clearing over the years, which Shen Qingqiu had grumbled about once or twice.

Usually, Shen Qingqiu opted to remain inside during their battles so he had extra time to read the yellow books he thought no one knew about. Today, though, he stood in the shade just outside the clearing, lazily fanning himself. Liu Qingge was clearly nonplussed by the fact that he was going to watch their fight, and Luo Binghe redirected his attention by drawing Zheng Yang. Cheng Luan was immediately out of its sheath as well, its owner shifting into position. Luo Binghe let his gaze slide over to his husband, who gave him a significant look.

Right. Losing. Luo Binghe could lose.

Liu Qingge made the first move, pushing off with his foot to flashstep across the clearing and into Luo Binghe’s space. Luo Binghe reflexively lifted his sword to block the blow, parrying and making his own swipe that Liu Qingge leapt backwards to avoid. A sword glare followed Liu Qingge, and he dropped to roll out of its way before springing back up and blocking Luo Binghe’s lunging attack.

Well. Luo Binghe couldn’t just lose immediately, right? That would make it too obvious that it was on purpose.

They exchanged hundreds of moves, dancing across the clearing in flashes of metal and qi. Despite Luo Binghe’s misgivings about the man, he was willing to concede that Liu Qingge was one of the few people who provided an actual challenge. He was the closest thing Luo Binghe had to an equal besides Mobei-Jun, who frankly wasn’t very fun to spar with despite the fact that his ice and teleportation abilities might make one assume otherwise. Fights with Liu Qingge, on the other hand, were never boring, with the two of them always seeking out new techniques to bring to the next fight in hopes of showing up their opponent.

Case in point: the new disarming move that Liu Qingge must have perfected since Luo Binghe last saw him, succeeding in sending Zheng Yang across the clearing and rendering Luo Binghe weaponless. Rather than summon his sword back, though, Luo Binghe opted to switch tactics. In two more moves, Cheng Luan fell to the ground as well, and he tackled Liu Qingge before he could form a sword seal.

Liu Qingge absorbed the blow well, dropping to the grass and using the momentum to roll them both until he came out on top, fist pulled back to strike in a suspended moment. The afternoon sun cast him in warm light above Luo Binghe, emphasizing the shine of his slightly-disheveled hair and outlining the delicate features of his face.

Liu Qingge was a beautiful man. Luo Binghe had known this since he first identified this particular martial uncle as his primary competition for Shizun’s affection, back when he was young. But the knowledge of his beauty was always a perfunctory thing, a simple fact that Luo Binghe was conscious of without ever lingering on. After all, Liu Qingge’s beauty hardly seemed to matter as much as the fact that he was someone Shen Qingqiu relied on. The shidi who regularly cleansed his meridians, able to keep Without a Cure at bay where Luo Binghe had only served as the cause of Shen Qingqiu’s poisoning.

It was less easy to brush aside Liu Qingge’s beauty right now.

When fighting, Liu Qingge somehow became even more beautiful. His attention turned sharp, eyes glittering with an excitement that he almost never displayed elsewhere. He loved fighting, loved combat for the sake of combat, loved testing his skills against a worthy opponent. For the first time, it occurred to Luo Binghe that Liu Qingge might simply enjoy fighting him, and that might be why he continued to challenge him even after all this time. Combat was also one of the few times Liu Qingge didn’t glower at Luo Binghe—instead too focused on the fight to do anything with his face except furrow his brow and purse his lips in concentration.

Right now, though, there was the slightest tilt to his lips, clearly pleased with himself for gaining the upper hand.

He looked…

Luo Binghe grabbed his wrist before the blow could land and twisted his body to destabilize Liu Qingge, flipping them both so that Liu Qingge was flat on his back with Luo Binghe straddling his hips. Liu Qingge’s usual scowl returned and he tried to strike with his free hand, only for that to be caught as well. Luo Binghe leaned forward to pin both of his wrists above his head, sitting heavier on his hips to keep him from escaping. Liu Qingge struggled to no avail, gaze briefly flicking in a certain direction before returning to Luo Binghe.

Something ugly twisted in Luo Binghe’s stomach. Suddenly feeling mean, he leaned down to whisper in his ear, too quiet for anyone to overhear, “Liu-shishu lost rather quickly this time. Don’t tell me you were distracted by the fact that my husband is watching us.”

Liu Qingge froze beneath him.

Luo Binghe felt the sudden urge to bite down hard on his ear, but instead let out a puff of a laugh across it. A strange sort of anger was flowing through his veins, a bit different from the familiar jealousy, and his voice inadvertently dropped to something liquid. “How depraved.”

“You—!”

Liu Qingge ramped up his struggling, and this time Luo Binghe relented, releasing him and standing to allow him to scramble to his feet. The sight of him—red-faced and downright glowering—had Luo Binghe feeling that urge to bite and claw again. He refrained, though, instead tucking his hands behind his back to watch placidly as Liu Qingge grabbed his sword and—

Left.

“Liu-shidi?” Shen Qingqiu jolted in surprise, stepping into the clearing as Cheng Luan started rising in the air. “Where are you going?”

This wasn’t the routine; Liu Qingge was supposed to accept his loss and come inside for tea, and he and Luo Binghe were supposed to pretend to ignore each other’s presence while secretly sending each other glares and smug smirks when Shen Qingqiu wasn’t looking. Then, when Liu Qingge inevitably overstayed his welcome, Luo Binghe would ask in a sickeningly-sweet tone if he’d be staying for dinner, to which Liu Qingge would scowl and finally announce that he was returning to his peak.

That was the routine. The one the three of them had been keeping up for years. Liu Qingge would really break it now, just because of a few teasing words?

It unsettled Luo Binghe in a way he didn’t like.

Liu Qingge directed a glare at Luo Binghe before turning to Shen Qingqiu with a more reluctant expression. “Forgot I have to do something.”

“Oh.” Shen Qingqiu deflated a bit. “Well, Shidi is welcome to visit anytime.”

Liu Qingge gave him a curt nod, then took off without a second glance at Luo Binghe, scurrying off to Bai Zhan Peak with his tail between his legs. Luo Binghe scowled at his retreating back.

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu turned to him with a raised brow. “What was that?”

“Shizun, it’s not my fault!” Luo Binghe immediately protested, clutching onto his sleeve. “Shizun saw how quickly Liu…-shishu lost; how could this disciple feign defeat in such a case?”

Shen Qingqiu sighed in concession, looking almost somber as he gazed in the direction of Bai Zhan Peak. “Still, it’s strange for him to run off like that.”

“He’s probably just embarrassed at losing so easily.” Luo Binghe feigned nonchalance, very much not wanting to bring up his taunting words that likely served as the actual reason he took off. “Liu-shishu will be back after licking his wounds for a few days, this disciple is sure.”

With a noncommittal noise, Shen Qingqiu turned and headed for the Bamboo House. Luo Binghe called his sword back to its sheath and, with one last look over his shoulder, followed.

Liu Qingge’s ears were still burning when he made it back to his peak.

That damned demon—so what if he was distracted! Shen Qingqiu never watched their fights, so Liu Qingge couldn’t help but think that there was something else going on when he suddenly chose to do so today. It wasn’t like Liu Qingge was distracted by Shen Qingqiu, just— What if Luo Binghe was planning some underhanded demon trick that Shen Qingqiu was privy to, and that was why he chose to watch? Of course Liu Qingge had to keep an eye out in case Shen Qingqiu gave some indication, some warning—

Then again, perhaps Shen Qingqiu’s presence was Luo Binghe’s trick. Liu Qingge remembered well how much Shen Qingqiu used to love those sorts of underhanded schemes, before the qi deviation; perhaps his demon husband had convinced him to…regress, so to speak.

But then for Luo Binghe to pretend like Liu Qingge’s split attention was something else, like he was doing something he shouldn’t, and then—

How depraved.

Luo Binghe’s voice echoed in his mind, and Liu Qingge whipped around, half-sure he felt his breath ghosting across his ear yet again.

Nothing.

Of course it was nothing; Luo Binghe would never tear himself away from Shen Qingqiu just to follow Liu Qingge home.

Not that he would want him to. Liu Qingge would kick him off the mountain if he tried.

Liu Qingge wasn’t a coward, and he intended to prove as much by returning to Qing Jing Peak after only a day. However, he ended up being assigned a mission that sent him off-peak for a few weeks, delaying things.

When he did finally manage to visit, he found Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe out in the little garden in front of the Bamboo House, enjoying the fine weather. Luo Binghe was lying across the bench with his head in Shen Qingqiu’s lap while the latter read, one hand idly carding through his husband’s curls.

It was an incredibly domestic sight. Liu Qingge’s steps faltered, something twisting in his chest.

Before he could debate whether to leave them be and return another time, Shen Qingqiu’s head snapped up, and a smile graced his features. “Liu-shidi! Completed your mission, then? I hope it wasn’t too difficult.”

Luo Binghe didn’t sit up, instead lazily turning his head to eye Liu Qingge with a surprisingly neutral expression. Shouldn’t he be baring his teeth at him for daring to interrupt time with his precious shizun?

Shen Qingqiu’s hand was still in his hair.

Liu Qingge cleared his throat. “It was fine. Just took time to track down the creature, is all.”

“Was it really a Poisonous Pine-Newt?” Shen Qingqiu’s eyes brightened with interest, and Liu Qingge obediently stepped closer and started describing the experience.

Liu Qingge wouldn’t consider himself someone who had a way with words. He noticed and observed things about the creatures he hunted, of course—he had to, in order to approach them properly. But he wasn’t the sort of person who could artfully turn those observations into descriptions, and he certainly wasn’t a storyteller who could regale others with tales of his battles. He tracked the monsters, fought them, killed them, and then did whatever he needed to do with the remains.

Shen Qingqiu, though, loved descriptions. He loved stories. He had, in the past, deflated whenever Liu Qingge would present him with lackluster retellings of his exploits. As such, Liu Qingge worked on this skill over the years in hopes of grasping Shen Qingqiu’s interest—if only for a few moments, if only over such a small matter. He had no doubt that his clipped anecdotes still failed to match up to those of Qing Jing-educated Luo Binghe, but he liked to think he had improved. Shen Qingqiu certainly seemed to appreciate the effort, if nothing else.

The entire time, Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe stayed where they were, the latter’s eyes half-lidded like a lazy cat sprawled in its owner’s lap. Shen Qingqiu’s hand occasionally twitched or tightened in Luo Binghe’s hair while Liu Qingge spoke.

“Liu-shidi didn’t get any poison on him, did he?” Shen Qingqiu asked afterwards, his concerned gaze flicking over his figure.

He didn’t, of course. Only a rookie would accidentally pierce the poison sacs on the newt’s neck. And even if Liu Qingge had made such a mistake, he certainly would have cleaned himself up instead of arriving on Qing Jing Peak with poison still eating away at his skin.

Luo Binghe snorted, as if he also found the question a little silly, and finally sat up. He lazily rolled his head side-to-side to stretch his neck, then turned to pin Liu Qingge with his gaze. “Is Liu-shishu still tired from his mission? I’d hate to beat you even faster than usual today.”

Liu Qingge scoffed, but was internally glad for the return to routine. He could already feel the tell-tale adrenaline that always preceded a fight with Luo Binghe coursing through his veins. “Don’t be so sure of yourself,” he said, despite the fact that Luo Binghe technically had every reason to be sure of himself.

Truthfully, Liu Qingge had long since given up any notion of being able to defeat Luo Binghe in a fair match. Not that he would ever admit as much outright to him. Luo Binghe was simply better than him. Stronger, more talented, more eloquent, more worthy of…

He inadvertently glanced at Shen Qingqiu, then looked away.

In any case, Liu Qingge had also long since managed to bury most of the grudge and dislike he used to hold against Luo Binghe. Regardless of the past, Luo Binghe consistently proved himself in recent years to be a good, dutiful husband to Shen Qingqiu, and Shen Qingqiu made it more than clear how much he adored his half-demon disciple-husband in turn. Other than the quiet, still-lingering jealousy that Liu Qingge might never be able to fully do away with, he had no real qualms with Luo Binghe anymore—other than his irritating attitude. And yet, Liu Qingge couldn’t help but challenge him every time they met—partially because it was simply what they did, the habit so ingrained that it felt impossible to break, and partially because…

Well. He wasn’t entirely sure what the rest of his reasoning was, only that every time he saw Luo Binghe, his blood raced in his veins and his body heated up in anticipation of a fight. It was thrilling, to put it simply. Some part of him craved it.

However, instead of throwing taunting words at Liu Qingge like he normally would, Luo Binghe…hesitated. He glanced at Shen Qingqiu, who looked back at him expressionlessly. The strangeness of the exchange was gone in a moment, but not fast enough for Liu Qingge to fail to notice.

Suspicious; something was definitely going on.

As if to prove his point, Shen Qingqiu once again followed them to the unofficial sparring area. Liu Qingge wanted to directly question this, wanted to ask why now, after all this time, Shen Qingqiu was suddenly taking an interest in their fights. It was distracting, knowing he was there, knowing he was watching, knowing that it likely meant something was going on.

But if he asked, then Shen Qingqiu might take that to mean Liu Qingge didn’t want him to watch, which…wasn’t necessarily the case. Even though he’d just see Liu Qingge lose, it would still mean Shen Qingqiu was watching him. Them. The two of them, fighting.

Something coiled in Liu Qingge’s gut.

“Focused?” Luo Binghe called from across the clearing, one eyebrow raised smugly. Liu Qingge scowled on instinct and took up a defensive stance; he made the first move last time, so it was Luo Binghe’s turn today.

With an over-embellished twirl of his blade, Luo Binghe sent three sword glares at him, anticipating where Liu Qingge would dodge to and adjusting each swing accordingly. Liu Qingge still managed to avoid them all, though one nearly skimmed his shoulder. He turned and sent his own sword glares back, which sliced into the bamboo bordering the clearing as Luo Binghe twisted out of the way.

“Can we please not damage more of my peak?” Shen Qingqiu called from the sidelines, closed fan pressed to his forehead in exasperation.

The reminder of his presence made Liu Qingge falter. It was only for a moment, but that was more than enough time for Luo Binghe to press the advantage and stab at him. Liu Qingge barely managed to block in time, their swords skittering together with the clumsiness of his move.

Luo Binghe leaned in across their locked swords, voice lowered to something dangerous. “Liu-shishu isn’t distracted again, is he?”

Heat flooded Liu Qingge’s face. He gritted his teeth against it, channeling qi into his blade to help push Luo Binghe away. Luo Binghe leapt backwards and Liu Qingge gave him no time to make another move, charging forward and swinging at him.

They exchanged hundreds of moves like they always did, footwork quick and precise and sword forms just to the left of textbook perfection, speaking to how they both had experience in adapting their moves to real combat. Liu Qingge lasted much longer than last time now that he wasn’t quite as…distracted. Not in the filthy way that Luo Binghe had implied, just—aware. Aware of Shen Qingqiu’s presence, of his eyes on the both of them. Aware, still, that it could be an indication that Luo Binghe might pull some trick. Liu Qingge still hadn’t discounted that possibility; perhaps last time the fight had ended too quickly and Luo Binghe didn’t have the chance.

He could feel the weight of Shen Qingqiu’s gaze following him—following them—as they moved across the clearing in their duel. Shen Qingqiu had made it clear in the past, on more than one occasion, that he found it silly that they fought at all, and even once or twice tried to encourage them to stop. And yet here he was now, watching with a keen eye. Shen Qingqiu may not be on the same level as either Liu Qingge or Luo Binghe when it came to combat, but he was certainly no slouch and had an eye for technique. Was he at all entertained by the display before him?

Was he…impressed?

The thought of that made something pool deep within Liu Qingge, and his next strike came out much more powerful than the ones preceding it. Luo Binghe’s brows quirked upward in mild surprise, but he remained unfazed as he countered. Liu Qingge fought with inexplicably renewed vigor for a while, but in the end things turned out how they always did.

This time, Luo Binghe disarmed him and pinned him against one of the few actual trees on Qing Jing Peak, his arm forming a bar across Liu Qingge’s neck and both of his legs between his thighs to keep him in place. Liu Qingge kept his chin up and out of the way of the arm putting a solid pressure on his throat, acutely aware of every place where their bodies were lined together.

He could get out of this. One of his hands was caught in Luo Binghe’s grasp, but the other was free, as were his legs. He could send a qi blast, or try to sweep Luo Binghe’s legs out from under him, or—

Something moved in his periphery. Liu Qingge’s eyes flicked past Luo Binghe’s shoulder to see Shen Qingqiu watching them from across the clearing, fan covering the lower half of his face.

His gaze, dark and heavy, was fixated on them.

On Luo Binghe pinning Liu Qingge by the throat against the tree.

On Liu Qingge trapped beneath his solid, powerful weight.

He was in a shameful, vulnerable position right in front of Shen Qingqiu. By all rights, Liu Qingge should feel embarrassed—and he did, but he also felt—

He felt—

Liu Qingge’s heart raced, heat suddenly suffusing his chest.

Luo Binghe leaned in, once again murmuring in Liu Qingge’s ear like he did last time. “Eyes on me, Shishu.”

He obeyed without thinking, meeting Luo Binghe’s dark eyes and watching as something flickered in their depths. That did nothing to dispel the heat, and in fact only made it worse. Something about this felt dangerous, like Liu Qingge was racing towards a precipice he should avoid. His body felt overwarm, his head slightly dizzy, almost like it did whenever he had an unfortunate encounter while on a mission. And then Luo Binghe shifted slightly, his hips nearly pressing against his—

“I yield.”

His words surprised them both. Luo Binghe blinked, some of the darkness in his gaze dissipating. Perhaps it took a beat for the words to click, because he was slow to pull away and free Liu Qingge, eyes lingering on him for a moment before silently turning to stride over to Shen Qingqiu. They spoke in murmurs too quiet for Liu Qingge to pick out at this distance as he gradually peeled himself from the tree.

It wasn’t as though this was the first time Liu Qingge has spoken his yield. Usually, he did prefer to keep going until he was exhausted and Luo Binghe had him in a position with no way out, but he had, on occasion, exercised his right to yield before. Not very much, though, and this time was…unusual. He could have broken Luo Binghe’s hold, but that would have taken time, which it felt like he didn’t have. The situation just now had felt dangerous in a different way from how combat usually felt, and in a way that Liu Qingge was afraid to name. All he knew was that he needed to get out of it, and yielding was the quickest way to do so.

Liu Qingge’s face still felt too warm as he straightened out his robes and brushed off dirt and grass, keeping his attention firmly on his task to avoid meeting either of the others’ eyes. Some instinctive part of him wanted to leave again, distance himself like last time so he could sort out whatever was going on in his head. But he already bailed on tea with Shen Qingqiu before, and he certainly wouldn’t do it again so soon.

So, Liu Qingge cleaned himself up, sheathed Cheng Luan, and followed the other two into the Bamboo House.

Chapter Text

Luo Binghe was honestly a little pissed at Liu Qingge for yielding that fight. Right when it was getting good too—he had Liu Qingge pinned, was eager to see how he’d get out of it, was excited for how the rest of the fight might play out—

And then the bastard yielded.

Luo Binghe spent the entire rest of the visit stewing in frustration while Shen Qingqiu carried the conversation and Liu Qingge responded with his usual clipped answers, and then inexplicably felt even more frustrated when Liu Qingge eventually left exactly like he was supposed to.

Whatever. The next fight would be better.

And it was, for the most part.

By the third time Liu Qingge dropped by Qing Jing Peak, it was clear that he had become mostly accustomed to Shen Qingqiu’s presence during their fights. Which was good on a strategic level—having such an obvious weakness that could be reliably exploited certainly wouldn’t be a good look for the so-called War God. Luo Binghe still teased, pressing close and speaking lowly so that Shen Qingqiu couldn’t overhear, and Liu Qingge’s eyes still flashed with anger, but it didn’t throw him off the way it did the first two times. Overall, the fight went much like how they usually did, with the exception that Liu Qingge was a bit more red in the face in the aftermath.

When Shen Qingqiu silently arched a brow at Luo Binghe over the fact that he had won again, Luo Binghe pathetically clutched onto his sleeve with wide, innocent eyes. “Shizun, wouldn’t it be more prudent for me to lose to him somewhere that demons can witness? Doing such a thing here…they would have to take our word for it.”

And clearly, demons were not so good at taking Luo Binghe at his word when it came to this particular matter. Truthfully, it was something he’d only thought of just now now, but it seemed obvious in hindsight.

“Binghe makes a good point,” Shen Qingqiu conceded. “In that case, I suppose there’s no more need for this master to watch—”

“No! I mean, this disciple actually rather enjoys having Shizun as an audience,” Luo Binghe argued. Then, he added, “Liu-shishu does as well.”

Shen Qingqiu gave him a dubious look. “And how is Binghe so sure of that?”

An innocent smile spread across his face. “I can tell.”

Shen Qingqiu still seemed doubtful and hesitant for a while after that, but eventually relented with enough wheedling and good food. As such, he continued watching Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge’s spars for the remainder of their time on Qing Jing Peak.

Luo Binghe hadn’t been lying when he said he enjoyed having Shen Qingqiu’s attention for these fights—and not just in the manner of posturing and showing off how strong he was for his husband. There was something about having Shen Qingqiu’s gaze on him during combat, feeling the weight of it as he fought, that sent electricity through his veins. It was always like that no matter who Luo Binghe was going up against, but for some reason the feeling was magnified when fighting Liu Qingge specifically.

And he was certain that Liu Qingge enjoyed it as well. He’d get flustered about it, of course, but who wouldn’t enjoy having Shen Qingqiu’s attention? Liu Qingge should count himself lucky that Luo Binghe was allowing him any of it.

Their time at Cang Qiong Mountain came to an end, and Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu departed for a tour of the Gleaming Gemstone Lakes in the west. It was a beautiful sight, consisting of several lakes clustered together whose waters were each a different, vibrant color akin to gemstones. It could be found by traversing through the Sky-Scraping Grasslands—whose grass was really only about as tall as Mobei-Jun and didn’t quite ‘scrape’ the sky. Ostensibly, they could have flown right over the grasslands to reach the lakes, but then Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t have been able to study and catalogue the creatures that made the area their natural habitat.

And Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t have discovered his new…pet.

It started when they came across the body of an adult Citrine-Quilled Hedgehog—the name of which did nothing to indicate just how large these creatures were. As tall as a man and twice as long, with a solid, round body and orange spikes of gemstones littering its back. Most creatures in this area had some sort of gemstone quality to them due to the nearby lakes, and the way the hedgehog’s quills glittered in the sun would be rather breathtaking if the thing weren’t also very dead. And killed by a cultivator, by the looks of it.

Shen Qingqiu frowned in disapproval at the sight. “We’re in Zhao Hua territory; I would hope their cultivators are better trained than to leave a kill like this.”

“Perhaps a rogue,” Luo Binghe mused, equally disdainful. It was in poor taste to simply leave a creature’s corpse where one killed it, not to mention the likelihood of the body attracting scavenger creatures, demons, or even resentful spirits, depending on the situation. It was also a mystery why anyone would even consider abandoning the body of this particular beast, given how valuable the parts were.

Liu Qingge wouldn’t have made such a poor showing.

The thought flitted through Luo Binghe’s mind unbidden, there and gone in an instant, and he blinked in its aftermath. Why did he think of Liu Qingge all of a sudden?

There was a squeaking noise from nearby, and Shen Qingqiu immediately followed it. He disappeared into the grass and reappeared moments later with a squirming thing the size of a house cat in his arms, its back coated with pale, premature crystalline quills.

“Poor thing,” Shen Qingqiu sighed, steadfastly ignoring the way the baby Citrine-Quilled Hedgehog squirmed in panic and tried to escape his grasp, dodging the quills that threatened his skin. If not for the fact that his robes had the enhanced durability typical of cultivator’s garb, they likely would have already been torn up. “That was probably its mother.”

Recognizing the tone of his voice, Luo Binghe held back a fond sigh as he moved to take care of the body.

Shen Qingqiu would do this semi-frequently; whenever they encountered an injured or orphaned creature that could be taken in, he did so without hesitation. Both Huan Hua Palace and Luo Binghe’s Underground Palace were gradually gathering creature collections that might one day rival that of Shou You Peak.¹ Shen Qingqiu always intended to only keep the creatures until they were healed (if injured) or old enough to fend for themselves in the outside world (if young)—and to his credit, he did try to release them.

It was just that he always failed to understand why they never wanted to leave him.

Their sight-seeing trip was cut short now that they had a new burden. Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu still took the time to tour the lakes, with Shen Qingqiu managing to ooo and ahh even while wrangling an uncooperative creature and making gentle shushing noises as if it would understand him. At one point, he pulled out a spare robe from his qiankun pouch and wrapped it around the hedgehog so that its quills wouldn’t pose a threat. Luo Binghe couldn’t let himself look too long at the sight of his husband cradling a swaddled bundle in his arms.

“Well,” Shen Qingqiu said later, after the hoglet had finally fallen asleep in his arms while they shared Luo Binghe’s sword on the way to Huan Hua Palace. “This little guy will certainly provide a reasonable excuse to invite Liu Qingge to visit Huan Hua.”

Zheng Yang shuddered ever-so-slightly beneath them at the sudden mention of him. “Why would we invite Liu-shishu to Huan Hua?”

Shen Qingqiu turned over his shoulder to give him a look. “Binghe said he would need to lose to him in a place where demons can see, right? There are certainly plenty at Huan Hua. If nothing else, Sha Hualing will make sure that word of your loss is spread.”

“Ah,” Luo Binghe said numbly. A sinking feeling settled in his gut. “Shizun is wise, as always.”

Sha Hualing didn’t warrant anywhere near the same amount of trust that Mobei-Jun did, but considering that the latter had the entire north to reign over while the former really only had the Sha clan—which happily took up residence at Huan Hua—she really was Luo Binghe’s best option to manage the sect in his absence. As a demon, she had no real interest in leading a righteous cultivation sect, so a lot of her responsibilities were actually shoved off onto the Little Palace Mistress and Qin Wanyue—who had both matured in recent years and seemed to work well together—while Sha Hualing served as more of a figurehead and Luo Binghe’s ‘man on the inside,’ as Shen Qingqiu had once put it. Shen Qingqiu had then faltered and corrected himself to ‘woman on the inside,’ and asked Luo Binghe not to tell Ning Yingying he made such an error.

In any case, as long as the place continued running and nothing blew up too bad in his absence, Luo Binghe really didn’t care who was doing what task.

He toured the palace to double-check that nothing had blown up too bad while Sha Hualing kept pace and delivered her report of any recent happenings—territory skirmishes, another hallmaster leaving because he suddenly decided he wouldn’t work with vile demons, and the like.

When she was done, Luo Binghe hummed in acknowledgement. “Shizun picked up a new creature and is likely at the Lustrous Corral now; make sure it gets the proper care it needs.”

She marked this down on her ‘clipboard’—one of Shang Qinghua’s inventions. “Of course, Junshang.”

“And he’ll be inviting Liu Qingge to visit soon, so make sure accommodations are prepared.”

“Liu Qingge?” She glanced over curiously. “Will he be bringing his sister?”

Luo Binghe silently looked at her.

“For the sake of knowing how many rooms to prepare,” Sha Hualing explained. “And because I want to fuck her.”

“…He’s not bringing his sister.”

Sha Hualing sighed despondently, grumbling under her breath about ‘playing hard to get’ as she marked something down—hopefully his instructions. Then, she shot him a coy look. “This servant heard about the debacle up in the north. If Junshang’s romantic efforts are still failing to bear fruit, Ling-er would be more than happy to give advice.”

Quite bold of her to say this while clearly aware of the exact way Luo Binghe had threatened the court against bringing up this subject; he momentarily debated the merits of trouncing her in a fight just to prove that she wasn’t so much of an exception. But that would mean less time to cook Shizun’s dinner, and it might also get in the way of her ability to do her job if he injured her too badly.

“Sort out your own love life before giving others advice,” he said instead, giving her a dry look. “And on the contrary; this lord is planning to formally end that…‘courtship.’”

She stopped in her tracks, wide-eyed with shock. “Wait, seriously? After all these years, Junshang is just giving up?”

“It’s not giving up if we were never—” Luo Binghe cut off with a frustrated sigh. Honestly, was there even a point in trying to explain? He continued walking, and she followed. “This lord is simply not interested, and plans to make that clear.”

Sha Hualing perked up with interest. “Ling-er’s generals will be quite happy to hear that.”

This time, it was Luo Binghe’s turn to stop in his tracks. “What.”

“Well, so many of them have had their eyes on Peak Lord Liu for ages,” she said flippantly, as if this was common knowledge. “Of course, no one would dare try to approach him while Junshang was actively courting him, but once that’s over and done with…” A feline grin spread across her face. “He’ll be a rather hot commodity.”

A hot commodity? Liu Qingge?

“These generals are aware that Liu Qingge despises demons, right?” Luo Binghe asked, irritation rising within him.

“He can’t hate us that much if he’s been courting Junshang for this long,” she shrugged, failing to notice the way Luo Binghe’s face spasmed. She marked something else down, continuing on her way. “Oh, Elder Egg Head is going to be so excited to hear this. I wonder if he’ll fight Single Arm over the chance to approach first…”

She kept talking to herself as she went, completely unaware of the fact that Luo Binghe wasn’t following. He stood there, rooted to the spot with something like shock.

It never occurred to him that so many demons might find Liu Qingge desirable. That some of them may have even inquired about his ‘courtship’ because they were secretly hoping for a chance to pursue the man themselves. The thought of that, of Liu Qingge suddenly having his pick of various higher-ups in the Demon Realm—including nobles—made a strange anger flare hot and sharp in Luo Binghe’s chest.

None of that trash could even compare to him, their emperor. Did they really think they had a chance? Liu Qingge would throttle anyone who tried something so bold.

This changed nothing, of course. Luo Binghe still needed to end this ridiculous farce, and Liu Qingge could certainly handle rejecting any potential demonic suitors.

Shaking his head, Luo Binghe moved to catch up with Sha Hualing, trying and failing to ignore the small voice needling the back of his mind that asked whether Liu Qingge would reject them.

The Quiescent Rock Garden used to be one of the Old Palace Master’s favorite spots in Huan Hua Palace. He’d said as much to Luo Binghe once, while giving him a personal tour not long after Luo Binghe had infiltrated the sect. In that patronizing grandfatherly tone of his, the Old Palace Master had explained that the rock garden had remained unchanged and barely touched—save for necessary maintenance to prevent plant growth—during his entire tenure as palace master.

“Unlike living things, rocks don’t grow and change so dramatically,” he’d said, taking on a tone as if he were imparting deep wisdom. “They don’t need to be pruned and clipped and kept under control. One doesn’t need to fear rocks growing wrong.”

Luo Binghe had forgotten about that conversation in the midst of everything that happened after, and it wasn’t until much later that he realized the full implication of the Old Palace Master’s words. So, the first time Luo Binghe returned to Huan Hua Palace after Mai Gu Ridge, he’d promptly rearranged the whole damned garden and destroyed half of the Old Palace Master’s precious rocks, and had since allowed natural plant life to crop up in the formerly-barren space.

Now, he thought he’d quite like to scuff up the remaining rocks in a good fight. Maybe even stain a few with blood.

Liu Qingge stood across from him, casting dubious glances both at the jagged boulders littering the space and at the steadily-growing audience gathering around the garden’s periphery. Sha Hualing, in particular, leaned lazily against a pillar, sharp nails idly drumming a rhythm on her arm. Luo Binghe could see the moment that Liu Qingge spotted Shen Qingqiu over Luo Binghe’s shoulder, posture stiffening slightly before he forcibly relaxed it back into a proper stance.

That’s right, Liu Qingge. Shizun’s still watching, Luo Binghe thought, rolling his shoulders. It was his turn to make the first move, but he took his time, circling Liu Qingge like a lazy tiger observing its prey. Luo Binghe wanted to savor this, wanted to enjoy crushing Liu Qingge in front of so many—

Ah. No. He was supposed to lose this time.

The excitement that had been building within Luo Binghe deflated a bit, frustration building in its wake, and with clenched teeth he suddenly surged forward to start the fight.

They started with swordplay, as they always did. The uneven terrain of loose rocks and sand beneath their feet made for a fractional increase in challenge compared to their regular sparring area on Qing Jing Peak, but both Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge had enough experience that such a thing hardly impeded either of them.

Luo Binghe stayed on the offensive, pushing Liu Qingge backwards towards one of the nearby boulders. Liu Qingge stepped around it rather than letting himself be trapped, of course—and right as Luo Binghe stabbed forward, too, sending Zheng Yang skittering across the stone in his absence.

The boulder was both taller and wider than Liu Qingge, effectively hiding him from Luo Binghe’s sight as he stepped behind it. Rather than moving around to follow, Luo Binghe opted to leap on top of the rock and send qi blasts down at his opponent. Liu Qingge dodged and blocked with ease as the blasts destroyed a few of the surrounding rocks, sending dust and gravel flying. He narrowed his eyes up at Luo Binghe. “You’re holding back.”

Well.

A smile featuring a few too many teeth spread across Luo Binghe’s face. “Is Shishu bored?” he asked silkily. “In that case, allow this one to make things more interesting.”

Liu Qingge opened his mouth to make some retort, but Luo Binghe dove down from the boulder and tackled him to the ground before he could voice it. The breath whooshed out of Liu Qingge due to Luo Binghe’s elbow in his gut, and they both lost their holds on their swords as they switched to grappling and rolled on the ground for a bit. Luo Binghe got a few punches and scratches in, satisfaction blooming in his gut at the sight of Liu Qingge bearing his marks. Liu Qingge, in return, bashed Luo Binghe’s head with a rock in a way that would definitely have killed a mortal human. His heavenly demon blood knitted the injury back together with ease, though, which meant all he’d really have to deal with was a sore scalp for a few hours.

Liu Qingge managed to get on top of him, pinning him down into the loose sand, and Luo Binghe had to forcibly lessen the strength of his struggling. He was supposed to lose this time, supposed to make it clear to demonic onlookers that his and Liu Qingge’s ‘courtship’ was over and done with. That way, Luo Binghe could put this whole matter behind him and focus entirely on his marriage to Shen Qingqiu. There would be no second wife, no one who would steal his attention away from his beloved husband—and certainly not Liu Qingge.

Thoughts of Shen Qingqiu automatically had Luo Binghe’s head turning in search of his husband. He immediately spotted him in the crowd, fan covering the lower half of his face as his dark eyes watched over the top of it. Shen Qingqiu’s gaze was intense, almost piercing through Luo Binghe the way it sometimes did.

Luo Binghe was going to lose to Liu Qingge, right in front of Shen Qingqiu. Shizun was going to watch him be beaten by Liu Qingge, pinned down and made vulnerable by the same man that Luo Binghe had once sworn to himself never to be defeated by. Even though it was by design, even though Luo Binghe was letting Liu Qingge win, it was still—

It still felt—

Shame, thick and corrosive, slowly climbed up Luo Binghe’s body from his toes to the top of his scalp.

He couldn’t—

He couldn’t lose in front of Shizun, and especially not to Liu Qingge.

Luo Binghe’s efforts redoubled on instinct, and he soon freed himself from Liu Qingge’s grip. He launched forward, intending to pin Liu Qingge to the ground instead, but they ended up so that Liu Qingge was sitting with his back against a boulder and Luo Binghe in his lap. Luo Binghe punched recklessly, and Liu Qingge easily tilted his head out of the way so that he ended up cracking the rock behind him instead.

There was a tangle of emotions in Luo Binghe’s gut that he couldn’t sort through, only able to act on the instinct to pin Liu Qingge down and do—something. He bracketed his knees on either side of Liu Qingge’s hips to keep them trapped as he wrapped a hand around Liu Qingge’s throat to shove his head back against the rock, cracking the stone further. Liu Qingge’s eyes widened and one hand came up to wrap around Luo Binghe’s wrist while the other fisted itself in Luo Binghe’s robes. A growl escaped Luo Binghe, shifting his weight to sit heavier on Liu Qingge’s lap, and—

They both froze.

Beneath Luo Binghe’s hips, an unmistakable hardness pressed against his own.

When had he even gotten hard?

When had Liu Qingge?

On reflex, Luo Binghe’s hips pitched just a bit, instinctively seeking friction, before he managed to still himself. Liu Qingge’s face was a bright red, eyes wide with something Luo Binghe might call fear, if not for the fact that he couldn’t recall ever seeing such an emotion on the man’s face before. And there was something about it, something that made Luo Binghe want to keep him pinned beneath him, keep that look on his face and watch it morph into pleasure as—

“I yield,” Luo Binghe croaked.

Liu Qingge’s expression smoothed out with surprise, but Luo Binghe wouldn’t stick around to see what emotion followed. He got up quickly, forcing down his reaction with the use of his blood before turning on his heel to stalk out of the rock garden with a sweep of his robes.

It was done now; the charade was over. Luo Binghe yielded the fight in front of a bunch of demons, who would see it as him rejecting and ending a courtship that never even existed. He was freed from these ridiculous customs, even if Liu Qingge were to be seen challenging him again. He was free to never have to think the words Liu Qingge and courting in the same sentence again, free to focus all of his attention on his actual husband—

Luo Binghe’s steps faltered.

He…

Right in front of Shen Qingqiu, he’d reacted like that because of another man.

Heavy guilt swirled deep in his gut, and Luo Binghe gritted his teeth against the building tears as he turned the final corners towards his and Shen Qingqiu’s private quarters, slamming the door shut behind him.

Shen Qingqiu swept down the halls after his husband, moving as quickly as his deeply-ingrained poser façade would allow him. Luo Binghe had gotten a considerable head start, since Shen Qingqiu felt the need to stay behind and exchange a few words with Liu Qingge for politeness’ sake instead of immediately hurrying after his husband, but it wasn’t like he didn’t know all the different places Luo Binghe liked to hide out.

Liu Qingge had taken a good few moments to get up after Luo Binghe’s departure, visibly shocked by the latter’s sudden choice to yield the fight. He’d gruffly brushed off all of Shen Qingqiu’s words of concern as usual, though, so Shen Qingqiu figured he couldn’t have been too shaken by the whole thing.

His face was also strangely red, but Liu Qingge was just the type to blush when shocked. After all, he typically did so whenever Shen Qingqiu startled him.

Luo Binghe, though, had been…strange, after ending the fight. There was an unsettled air about him that seemed to be about more than simple wounded pride over yielding to Liu Qingge. Not to mention how the two of them had looked moments before, with Luo Binghe in Liu Qingge’s lap, pinning him by the throat…

Well. Listen. In the years since marrying Luo Binghe, Shen Qingqiu managed to do a bit of introspection, and had come to the conclusion that he was, perhaps, no longer quite as straight as he once thought himself to be. Or straight at all, apparently. And along with that conclusion came the realization that there were quite a number of beautiful men in this world, Liu Qingge among them. No one could quite compare to the protagonist’s OP levels of attractiveness, of course, but—

So what if he liked watching the two most beautiful men in the world fight each other and show off their strength? Sue him! And so what if the sight of those same two men entangled like that made his face heat and something flip around in his stomach? Shen Qingqiu would daresay most people observing the fight had that sort of reaction! Probably.

Anyway, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t quite sure what to make of whatever that was, but the way Luo Binghe had all but run away afterwards didn’t bode well.

Luckily, his husband was in the first place Shen Qingqiu checked.

He stopped short at the sight of Luo Binghe sitting on the edge of their bed, face buried in his hands. After quietly closing the door behind himself, Shen Qingqiu cautiously approached. “Binghe?”

Luo Binghe’s head snapped up, and Shen Qingqiu’s steps faltered at the sight of his red-rimmed eyes. He braced himself, prepared to have a fully-grown demon lord launch at him and bury his face in his robes to wail about whatever was upsetting him.

Instead, Luo Binghe turned away.

Oh god.

The only thing worse than his husband crying was his husband trying to hide his crying from Shen Qingqiu! That meant severe levels of despair!

Shen Qingqiu rushed towards the bed in a panic, sitting next to Luo Binghe and reaching for him. “Binghe? What’s wr—”

Luo Binghe shrugged off his hands and curled in on himself. “This lowly one isn’t worthy of Shizun’s concern.”

Rejecting Shen Qingqiu’s touch and falling back into his self-deprecating habits?! Forget severe, these were extreme levels of despair! Emergency measures must be taken!

“Luo Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu put on his ‘teacher’ voice and watched as Luo Binghe automatically straightened his posture at the sound. “Enough of this. Are you a grown man or aren’t you? You will face this husband and tell him what’s got you so upset.”

Luo Binghe visibly hesitated, but in the end obediently turned to face him. He kept his head lowered and his shoulders hunched in a way that screamed ‘guilt’ rather dramatically. Surely whatever it was couldn’t be that bad, right? “Shizun, this…this husband committed a grievous betrayal, and begs for Shizun’s mercy even though he doesn’t deserve it.”

In what way could you have possibly betrayed me that bad while fighting Liu-shidi, ah?! Don’t tell Shen Qingqiu that this was just because Luo Binghe lost! On purpose! If this turned out to be another random demonic instinct cropping up, he was going to kick Airplane’s ass so hard the next time he saw him.

“Betrayal?” Shen Qingqiu calmly prompted when Luo Binghe didn’t continue, keeping his voice carefully even.

Luo Binghe sniffled. “This disciple…while fighting Liu-shishu…” He squirmed, and if not for the fact that he looked visibly uncomfortable, Shen Qingqiu would be sorely tempted to smack him with his fan and tell him to get on with it. Instead, he waited for Luo Binghe to gather himself.

Eventually, Luo Binghe sucked in a deep, bracing breath, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing the words out so fast that Shen Qingqiu could hardly process them. “This lowly one got aroused while fighting Liu Qingge but I swear I didn’t mean to and I would never betray Shizun like that and I’m still not sure why it happened because I don’t even like Liu Qingge and I certainly would never choose him over Shizun but I understand if Shizun could never forgive me for such infidelity and doesn’t want to see me again—”

“Binghe! Slow down!” Shen Qingqiu snapped, face heating as his husband’s rapid words gradually filtered through his mind. He couldn’t even manage to chide him for referring to Liu Qingge disrespectfully, too preoccupied by Luo Binghe saying that he—towards Liu Qingge—

“Shizun, please forgive this unworthy husband!” Luo Binghe cried, and— Oh, there was the clutching and the wailing Shen Qingqiu had expected earlier. Luo Binghe threw himself in Shen Qingqiu’s lap as if it were a guillotine, burying his face in his stomach as he sobbed, “This h-husband would never, ever ch-cheat on Shiz-zun!”

Shen Qingqiu could only sit there, half-tuning out the familiar sounds of Luo Binghe’s crying as he desperately tried to wrap his mind around what he just heard.

Luo Binghe…and Liu Qingge?

That… Well. Shen Qingqiu supposed he couldn’t be too surprised that despite Luo Binghe’s insistence that his shizun was the only person he could ever need or desire, these sorts of feelings developed for another man. He was originally designed as a stallion protagonist, after all! It only made sense that his excessive capacity for love and lust would spill over, so to speak, and since this version of Luo Binghe was bent (through no fault of Shen Qingqiu’s own), it also made sense that the target of his feelings would be another man.

But that man being Liu Qingge, well…

Well! That was a touch more surprising, considering the two’s famously contentious relationship. Ah, but given what they recently learned about demonic culture and instincts, perhaps it had merely taken Luo Binghe this long to realize that his desire to fight Liu Qingge was more than a desire to…fight. And it was completely understandable to be attracted to Liu Qingge! As previously established, the only man who could rival him in looks was Luo Binghe, and since Luo Binghe certainly couldn’t date himself (alternate universe versions notwithstanding), it would only make sense for his attentions to turn to the next best option.

Shen Qingqiu searched himself for feelings of jealousy or anger, and found a startling lack of either emotion. Perhaps because he had long ago learned to trust Luo Binghe, and knew that him developing feelings for another man didn’t necessarily mean he liked Shen Qingqiu less. No, Luo Binghe was making it more than clear with this current display alone that he wasn’t about to trade this old man in for a newer, sportier model. And perhaps it was also helped by the fact that Shen Qingqiu could sympathize with finding Liu Qingge (objectively) attractive.

Plus, the thought of Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge together—Luo Binghe pushing Liu Qingge down the way he did during all their fights, making a pretty blush spread across Liu Qingge’s delicate features, bullying that scowl into something softer as he—

Ah.

Hm.

Maybe…Maybe Shen Qingqiu was actually a little into it. The idea of Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge together while he…

Would he watch? Would they let him? Luo Binghe would probably like the idea of showing off for his husband, but maybe Liu Qingge would rather not have his shixiong watch him get—

Wait, Shen Qingqiu didn’t even know if Liu Qingge would be into any of this! Sorry, Great Master Liu! Shixiong didn’t mean to sully your pristine image like that!

“…Shizun?” A sniffle from down below alerted Shen Qingqiu to the fact that Luo Binghe had stopped wailing some time ago, and had been quietly clinging to him while Shen Qingqiu absentmindedly petted his hair. One dark, shiny eye peered up at him from where Luo Binghe’s face was still buried in his robes, tremulous with apprehension.

Shit! Luo Binghe was crying because he was worried Shen Qingqiu would reject him over this whole matter, and Shen Qingqiu went and got completely distracted by thoughts of watching his husband fuck another man! Ahhhh…

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu started, then cleared his throat when his voice came out strange. “This master…understands your concerns, but…” He sighed. “There’s really nothing to forgive. I’m not upset with you.”

That single eye blinked in surprise, followed by a sniffle. “Shizun…isn’t upset?”

Warm fondness suffused Shen Qingqiu’s chest, and he cupped Luo Binghe’s face in his hands to peel his sticky husband from his robes. He thumbed away the tear tracks on his face. “Why would I be upset, hm? Binghe hasn’t done anything wrong; it’s completely natural that you’d occasionally have…feelings…towards another man.”

Luo Binghe scowled. “I do not have feelings for Liu Qingge.”

“Liu-shishu,” Shen Qingqiu corrected. “And attraction is a feeling. In any case, if Binghe were to decide that these feelings were worth pursuing—”

“Shizun, I would ne—”

“Don’t interrupt.” Shen Qingqiu narrowed his eyes scoldingly, doing his best to ignore the way his face warmed at what he was preparing to say. This whole ‘proper communication’ thing had really done wonders for their relationship ever since they started it—who knew?—but it hadn’t become much easier to thicken his face to say embarrassing things. And telling his husband that he was allowed to fuck another man definitely fell under the ‘embarrassing’ category.

Shen Qingqiu cleared his throat. “As this husband was saying, if one day you were to decide that you wish to pursue something with…with Liu Qingge, then…” Ahh, his face was definitely a bright red. If only his hands weren’t full of sticky husband and he could grab his fan! “Then this husband…wouldn’t mind.”

Luo Binghe was speechless. He stared at Shen Qingqiu for a few long moments, then managed, “Shizun…is telling me to cheat?”

“Ah, it’s—it’s not exactly cheating if you have permission, is it?” Shen Qingqiu stammered.

Luo Binghe looked thoughtful. “But…Shizun said he wouldn’t want to share me.”

He did?

Ah. He did said something like that once, didn’t he? In Shen Qingqiu’s defense, it had been pretty early on in their marriage and he was having a particularly…weird day. Look, Luo Binghe’s gaze kept trailing after a woman who was pretty enough to be one of the less-important wives, and something in the back of Shen Qingqiu’s mind kept trying to convince him that this meant his husband was about to abandon him to finally start on that harem of beautiful women he was destined to have!

So Shen Qingqiu may or may not have…overreacted. When they got back to their inn room. And he may or may not have said some things about not wanting to share Luo Binghe during his…overreaction.

(It also turned out that Luo Binghe was only paying so much attention to that woman because he suspected she might be the yaoguai they were hunting. Shen Qingqiu’s ass certainly paid the price for that misunderstanding.)

Shen Qingqiu finally caved to his embarrassment and removed one of his hands from Luo Binghe’s face to grab his fan and spread it across his flaming cheeks. “Yes, well. Circumstances can change, can’t they? So long as Binghe is honest with this master and…and forthcoming about his…”

He trailed off with a grimace. He had no idea how to word what he was trying to say—it wasn’t like people really had harems in the modern world! And shouldn’t Luo Binghe already understand this concept from being a native of this setting, anyway?

Luo Binghe leaned in, studying Shen Qingqiu like he was a puzzle to solve. “Shizun, are you actually saying you’re okay with the idea of me sleeping with another man?”

“Not just any other man,” Shen Qingqiu countered, then realized what he just said and resisted the urge to duck his entire face behind his fan.

Luo Binghe looked at him like he’d suddenly grown a second head. “Shizun,” he said slowly, “This husband isn’t interested in Liu…-shishu.”

“Yes, yes, Binghe said as much.” Shen Qingqiu absentmindedly patted his head with his free hand. “Just— If you were to change your mind on the matter, it’s something we can discuss, is all. I’m sure we could come to some sort of…agreement.”

Luo Binghe was once again rendered speechless.

Chapter Text

Luo Binghe stalked through the Bloodforest Jungle in the Demon Realm, surrounded by the titular deep, bloody reds of its foliage and listening to the idle chitters of the native creatures as he tracked his prey. Normally, he would foist such a low-priority request off on one of his subordinates, but when this one came in, all Luo Binghe could think was that he would really, really like the chance to kill something.

It had been a few weeks since…that day. The rest of Liu Qingge’s visit to Huan Hua Palace had been short, with Luo Binghe taking every opportunity to avoid the man as much as politeness (read: Shen Qingqiu) would allow. His husband was more than happy to take up the bulk of socialization as always, eagerly showing Liu Qingge the new addition to his creature collection and touring him around Huan Hua Palace as if Liu Qingge hadn’t personally destroyed various parts of it once upon a time. Other than the meals that they had been forced to take together, Luo Binghe hardly saw Liu Qingge for the remainder of his three-day visit.

And, naturally, neither of them brought up what happened at the end of their fight.

After Liu Qingge left, Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu had spent the rest of their allotted weeks at Huan Hua dancing around the topic before moving on to the Underground Palace, where Luo Binghe received a petition asking him to kill the Moon Howling Iguana Leopard that had been wreaking havoc in the Bloodforest Jungle, which was shared between two clans. One clan apparently didn’t see fit to do away with the monster since it wasn’t doing too much damage to their section of the jungle, but the other was suffering from the effects of its destruction and was too weak to go after the leopard on their own.

Luo Binghe, having felt a strange restlessness under his skin for a while now, readily took on the petition himself.

He needed time alone to think—time that was admittedly difficult to achieve with Shen Qingqiu nearby, since the knowledge of his husband’s proximity always filled Luo Binghe with the irresistible urge to be sticky with him. A hunt without Shen Qingqiu would give Luo Binghe the time and space he needed, as well as the opportunity to vent some of his restlessness.

It was…good, that Shen Qingqiu wasn’t upset with him for his so-called ‘attraction’ to Liu Qingge. Luo Binghe’s husband had almost always been a well of generosity and mercy, and Luo Binghe was infinitely grateful that this matter was included in that. But the fact that he said he wouldn’t mind if Luo Binghe slept with Liu Qingge…

Luo Binghe wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that.

That certainly couldn’t be purely motivated by Shen Qingqiu’s generosity—especially since he’d specified that he wouldn’t want Luo Binghe to sleep with just any man. And then there was the way he’d blushed and stammered and hid his face as he struggled to explain himself…

Without saying so directly, Shen Qingqiu had basically admitted that he wanted Luo Binghe to sleep with Liu Qingge!

Why?

The easy answer, of course, would be that Shen Qingqiu was attracted to Liu Qingge. Luo Binghe didn’t particularly like to consider this answer, because it dredged up old jealousies that he had earnestly tried to let go of. Plus, if it were just about that, then shouldn’t Shen Qingqiu be trying to negotiate some way for him to fuck Liu Qingge? The focus on Luo Binghe being the one to do it was what confused him the most, yet he couldn’t manage to bring himself to ask Shen Qingqiu about it, fearing what his husband might say if he did.

Luo Binghe prowled through the underbrush on silent feet, trying to work out the puzzle in his mind. He cast his memory back over the past few months, ever since that day in the Northern Desert when Shen Qingqiu had learned about the false courtship matter. On that day, even though Shen Qingqiu had been prompted with the specific idea of Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge being together, he had still laughed at the concept and suggested a plan for Luo Binghe to end the courtship. If Shen Qingqiu had been interested in the matter back then, wouldn’t he have made some suggestion that Luo Binghe legitimize the courtship rather than end it? Which meant that something changed since then, but what? Was it just because Luo Binghe admitted to his (supposed, momentary) attraction to Liu Qingge?

There was also the fact that their routine had shifted since that day. Where normally Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge would spar alone, beating each other up before calling it a day and reuniting with Shen Qingqiu for tea, lately Shen Qingqiu had been—

Watching.

Luo Binghe briefly paused in his step, considering. Every time he and Liu Qingge fought lately, Luo Binghe had figured that he was imagining Shen Qingqiu’s gaze to be heavier than it actually was. Wishful thinking, and all that.

But perhaps it wasn’t his imagination at all.

Perhaps, while Luo Binghe was enjoying having his husband watch him fight Liu Qingge, Shen Qingqiu was also enjoying…watching.

And if that were the case, then perhaps…if he and Liu Qingge were to enter into some sort of arrangement…Shen Qingqiu might want to…

“It’s fine.”

The familiar voice jolted Luo Binghe from his thoughts. What the hell was he doing here, deep in the Demon Realm and so coincidentally near Luo Binghe when he was thinking about these things? Luo Binghe double-checked that his presence was fully concealed, then crept towards the source of the voice.

“The leopard doesn’t seem to be in the immediate area, though,” someone else said. “And the advantages of a political alliance really are worth discussing.”

It wasn’t long before Luo Binghe spotted Liu Qingge, crouched down to investigate a gouge in a tree trunk. He was pristine in his silver and white robes like a bright beacon of righteousness in contrast to the demonic red forest around them. And he wasn’t alone—in fact, he was with a demon. One that towered over him with vaguely bird-like features: a brightly-colored beak with a casque on an otherwise human-seeming face, sleek black feathers adorning his figure, and taloned feet. No actual wings, though, and it was that which clued Luo Binghe in to who this was.

The leader of the Xiniao clan, Chengzui-Jun!

The Xiniao clan was the other clan being bothered by the Moon Howling Iguana Leopard—the one that allegedly couldn’t be bothered to deal with the beast and would rather let their neighbors cry about it to the emperor. And yet, the clan leader himself was out here in the Bloodforest Jungle with Liu Qingge of all people, clearly following the same tracks that Luo Binghe had been investigating.

There was only one explanation for this, and it made Luo Binghe’s blood boil.

Liu Qingge wasn’t a fan of the Demon Realm.

Not only because of its denizens; the very air here was thick and oppressive, heavy with demonic energy. He couldn’t fathom how Shen Qingqiu or Shang Qinghua managed to live so many months out of the year in such an atmosphere. Liu Qingge’s own trips to the Demon Realm were usually as brief as possible, typically occurring when he tracked a beast across the borderlands before killing it. Today, though, he was here for…political reasons.

Yue Qingyuan’s smile had been full of apologies as he’d presented the letter to him and asked if Liu Qingge might be willing to accept Chengzui-Jun’s invitation to accompany him on a hunt in the Demon Realm. Ever since all that mess had been settled years ago and Luo Binghe started properly ruling over the Demon Realm—not to mention how two of Cang Qiong Mountain’s peak lords went on to marry high-profile demons—the sect had been making an effort to improve human-demon relations.

Which meant that even though Yue Qingyuan’s smile had been apologetic and his question had been worded politely, it didn’t change the fact that he was essentially ordering Liu Qingge to accept the invitation for the sake of these efforts.

Why this random demon lord had singled out Liu Qingge, neither of them knew for sure. The most likely reason was that it was due to Liu Qingge’s reputation for hunting and killing beasts. Either way, Liu Qingge had gritted his teeth and agreed to the damn thing. He had only just managed to get away from Luo Binghe and…whatever was going on with him, and now he had to deal with some other demon lord?

At least he’d get to kill something at the end of all of this.

Chengzui-Jun was an odd one, though, constantly casting Liu Qingge looks that seemed meaningful in some way he couldn’t interpret. His usual difficulty with reading others’ expressions was even more hindered by all the avian features, and in the end he decided to just ignore the weird looks.

The demon lord was also quite the brag.

“—how our territory has expanded in recent years, thanks to much effort on this lord’s part,” Chengzui-Jun said, feathers puffing up self-importantly. “When we return to my manor, Peak Lord Liu might be interested in seeing—”

“If you keep talking, we’ll risk alerting the beast to our presence,” Liu Qingge interrupted irritably.

Chengzui-Jun faltered, giving him an unreadable look. “Ah. Yes, that’s a good point. Apologies, Peak Lord Liu.”

“It’s fine.” Liu Qingge turned away to investigate a gouge in a nearby tree to see if it came from the Moon Howling Iguana Leopard’s claws.

“The leopard doesn’t seem to be in the immediate area, though,” Chengzui-Jun continued, and Liu Qingge took advantage of the fact that his back was to him to openly roll his eyes. “And the merits of a political alliance really are worth discussing.”

He continued talking, and Liu Qingge promptly tuned him out. If the man wanted to talk politics, he should have invited Yue Qingyuan here, not him. Liu Qingge would much rather focus on the hunt.

These claw marks certainly seemed in line with the description of the Moon Howling Iguana Leopard, though Liu Qingge himself had never seen one in person to know for sure. He took careful note of the shape of them, hoping doing so would aid him in describing it accurately to Shen Qingqiu later. Perhaps Chengzui-Jun would be amenable to letting him take the body back to Cang Qiong Mountain after the hunt. Though, it would be a while before Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu returned to the sect, so it wasn’t as though bringing it back would mean being able to drop it outside the Bamboo House for them. How close was Luo Binghe’s demon palace to this area?

Liu Qingge shook off the last thought as soon as it appeared. He had only been there a few times—all for contentious reasons—and certainly wouldn’t drop by unannounced just to, what? Show the two of them the body of a creature he just killed?

“—of course, Peak Lord Liu would be more than welcome to challenge this lord to a fight if he desires proof of this lord’s strength.”

The word ‘fight’ caught Liu Qingge’s attention, and he turned to look over his shoulder at the large bird demon. Chengzui-Jun’s feathers were puffed up again as he looked down at him.

Liu Qingge stood, folding his arms and giving him a once-over in an attempt to visually assess his strength. Chengzui-Jun’s obvious advantage would be his size, standing more than a head taller than Liu Qingge and nearly twice as broad. He didn’t carry any visible weapons, but his hands and feet were both sharply taloned in a way that would leave nasty wounds—assuming he could land a hit. He might have a few tricks up his sleeve, but there was no way he could be more of a challenge than Luo Binghe.

“You want to fight?” Liu Qingge asked, double-checking that he’d heard correctly. Yue Qingyuan had expressly asked him to avoid fighting anyone during this trip unless attacked, but if the demon actually wanted to…

Chengzui-Jun visibly perked up. “Only if Peak Lord Liu wishes to challenge this lord.”

That was a weird way to put things, but Liu Qingge couldn’t be bothered to puzzle it out. He took another moment to consider the offer, noting the trees and undergrowth surrounding them that would make for obstacles or advantages. Then, with an internal shrug, he opened his mouth to say, “Alright.”

But before he could speak, something launched from the undergrowth, landing a direct hit square in the center of Chengzui-Jun’s chest and sending him flying over a dozen meters into the jungle, cracking and felling a number of trees before finally collapsing to the ground in the distance, unmoving. Either dead or unconscious; it was difficult to tell from here.

Liu Qingge, who hadn’t sensed any killing intent or even the presence of a threat before the attack, reached for his sword somewhat belatedly, before his brain caught up and registered the person in front of him. Even with his back to him, Liu Qingge would recognize that mane of curls anywhere.

“You!” he shouted, re-sheathing Cheng Luan from the inch that he had drawn it. “What are you doing here? Why the hell did you attack out of nowhere?”

Luo Binghe turned to face him, and Liu Qingge noticed with a start that all of his demonic features were on full display in a way he hadn’t seen in a long time. His eyes were a blazing red instead of black or that in-between maroon color he tended to keep up on Qing Jing Peak, and his fangs and claws were out in full force. Luo Binghe’s expression was dark as he stepped closer—

And grabbed the back of Liu Qingge’s collar like one would the scruff of a kitten’s neck, then started dragging him away.

“Wh— Hey!”

Liu Qingge struggled against his grip, but Luo Binghe was stronger than him and moving fast enough that it was all Liu Qingge could do to keep his feet under him. Scowling, Liu Qingge formed a sword seal with his hands, but Luo Binghe reacted before he could activate it, suddenly spinning around and grabbing both of his wrists as he crowded Liu Qingge against a nearby tree.

“Luo Binghe!” he snapped. “What are you—”

Luo Binghe leaned in close, slotting his legs between Liu Qingge’s as he pinned him to the tree. His voice came out low and silky near Liu Qingge’s ear. “I should like to ask Liu Qingge what he’s doing out here in the Demon Realm with some demon, about to challenge him to a fight.”

Liu Qingge paused. This atmosphere…it was strange in a way he was hesitant to name. That feeling of danger that had been creeping up on him during their fights lately was on high alert now, and he had no idea what to do about it.

“Well?” Luo Binghe prompted, turning his head so that his lips almost brushed the shell of Liu Qingge’s ear. A shiver threatened to fight its way up Liu Qingge’s spine, but he forced it down.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” he said, voice coming out breathier than it should, which only irritated him more. He thrashed in his hold. “Get off of me!”

“Why should I?” Luo Binghe asked, pressing close so that their bodies were lined together from chest to hips. “You like this.”

Liu Qingge froze.

“Don’t try to deny it,” Luo Binghe continued, the tip of his nose skimming down the side of Liu Qingge’s neck. “We both remember what happened at the end of our last fight.”

At the end of their last fight? Liu Qingge had been doing his utmost to push that entire mortifying ordeal out of his mind. Not only had his body reacted like that just from feeling the weight of Luo Binghe pinning him down and wrapping a hand around his throat, but Luo Binghe had noticed, too. The fact that Luo Binghe had been hard as well had only added to the confusion, not to mention the way he had leapt off of him and stomped away. Liu Qingge had thought—apparently naively—that they had an unspoken agreement to pretend it never happened.

And then there was the way Shen Qingqiu had rushed after his husband as soon as he could. Had the two of them laughed about it, in the privacy of their rooms? About how pathetic Liu Qingge must be, to get aroused from that sort of thing? And towards a married man, as well?

Mortification heated his face, and he gritted his teeth against it. “Get. Off.”

Luo Binghe chuckled. “Why don’t you make me, Shishu?”

In a flash, Liu Qingge twisted his wrists out of his grip and shoved at Luo Binghe as hard as he could, infusing qi into the move for good measure. It still only managed to push Luo Binghe back a little ways away, but it was at least something.

“What’s your problem?!” Liu Qingge snapped, debating whether or not drawing Cheng Luan would make the current situation worse. This didn’t feel at all like their normal spars, the air between them thick with a different sort of tension.

“My problem?” Luo Binghe asked. His expression was strange in a way that almost called back to the five years they spent at each other’s throats. He lunged for Liu Qingge, who reacted automatically, and soon they were dancing around each other and exchanging moves in a way that felt familiar yet not. It was more intense than usual, energy simmering underneath the surface and threatening to boil over at any moment.

Liu Qingge stayed on the defensive, unable to do much else but block and dodge as Luo Binghe pressured him with blow after blow, some of which he didn’t quite manage to avoid. A fist connected to his cheek and snapped his head to the side, and Liu Qingge staggered, barely managing to twist out of the way of the next punch that followed. He misjudged where to place his foot, though, and it skidded in the leaf litter on the ground. Not enough to fully trip him, but enough for a momentary stumble—which was all the opportunity Luo Binghe needed to slam his shoulder into his chest and send them both tumbling.

They tangled together on the jungle floor, the damp earth clinging to their clothes and skin and the high energy of a fight crackling between them. Liu Qingge managed to get a few blows in this way, bruising Luo Binghe’s chin and kneeing him in the gut and making the back of his neck bleed when his nails scrabbled against it. In the end, though, Luo Binghe won like he always did, as if his victory was preordained.

He pinned Liu Qingge’s arms above his head, hips sitting heavy astride Liu Qingge’s as he loomed over him, chest heaving with exertion. Liu Qingge panted as well as he stared up at Luo Binghe, back arching with his futile efforts to get out of his hold. Luo Binghe’s zuiyin—along with the entire damned jungle around them—cast him in an otherworldly red glow, glinting off his curls and emphasizing the flush in his cheeks.

He looked beautiful and powerful, and he had Liu Qingge entirely at his mercy.

Liu Qingge fought down another shiver.

Luo Binghe leaned close. “Shishu always looks best like this, pinned beneath me.” He slowly ground his hips downwards, bringing attention to the fact that they were both hard. “Is Shishu going to keep trying to deny that he enjoys this?”

Shuddering, Liu Qingge squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away. He never denied it, technically. It was just that he never wanted to face it. Liu Qingge was a warrior, the peak lord of Bai Zhan who earned his position and his reputation by being nigh-on unbeatable. He had long since accepted that Luo Binghe was the one person he may never best in a fair fight, but the thought of enjoying it—of relishing in being defeated in a way only Luo Binghe could manage, of being held down and forced to accept his loss, of being subject to Luo Binghe’s mercy…

It was shameful.

And yet, if Liu Qingge was honest with himself, it was quite possibly the main reason why he kept challenging Luo Binghe to fights even after getting over his dislike of the man.

“Will you not even look at me?” Luo Binghe pressed, voice steely.

Liu Qingge opened his eyes to glare up at him. “What do you want? To humiliate me?”

If that were the case, Luo Binghe should have waited to do this in front of Shen Qingqiu so the two of them could laugh at Liu Qingge together. Not that he thought Shen Qingqiu would openly laugh at him for something like this—not this Shen Qingqiu at least, who had been different ever since saving Liu Qingge’s life in the Ling Xi Caves. Before, though, he certainly would never have turned down the opportunity to shame and disparage Liu Qingge, and Liu Qingge wasn’t naive enough to think that all of the derision Shen Qingqiu was once capable of was gone. He would probably try to give Liu Qingge face by disguising his amusement when in front of him, then laugh with Luo Binghe later, in private.

The thought of that made something unpleasant churn in Liu Qingge’s gut.

Luo Binghe studied him, then leaned in, pressing his lips close to Liu Qingge’s ear. “You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

Liu Qingge stiffened. How did he—

“You make it so obvious. It’s a wonder Shizun hasn’t noticed it himself.”

Ah. So Luo Binghe did want to humiliate him, then.

Luo Binghe sat up a bit and shifted so that he was holding both of Liu Qingge’s wrists in one hand, easily manhandling him like Liu Qingge’s strength and training meant nothing, before bringing the other hand down to trace along his cheekbone. He pressed against the fresh bruise, making Liu Qingge grimace at the sting.

“You know,” Luo Binghe mused, taking his chin between his fingers to turn his face this way and that. “Liu-shishu really is quite pretty.”

Liu Qingge was speechless.

“Liu-shishu asked what I want,” Luo Binghe continued, thumb lightly digging into the spot below Liu Qingge’s lower lip, drawing it down a bit. He leaned in until their faces were only a handspan apart. “Would he really like to know?” He pulled back and, seeing Liu Qingge’s confusion, he chuckled.

And then he pressed their lips together.

The feeling of warm lips against his own made Liu Qingge freeze, eyes wide with shock. His brain stuttered to a stop, unable to think or even register anything outside of Luo Binghe’s lips on his, his hand pinning his wrists down, his fingers tilting his chin up, his body lined against his.

Then, Luo Binghe pried open his lips to thrust his tongue in his mouth, and Liu Qingge’s mind slipped further away from his grasp.

It was overwhelming. Luo Binghe kissed like he was trying to devour Liu Qingge, like he was trying to claim him from the inside out. He nipped at his lips, hard enough that his sharp fangs very nearly drew blood, and some sort of noise forced its way out of Liu Qingge’s throat. It was so much more than Liu Qingge might have imagined, if he were the imagining sort. It was overpowering, and intoxicating, and—

Wrong.

Liu Qingge snapped back to himself and bit down hard on the tongue invading his mouth, tasting the coppery tang of blood. Instead of flinching away in pain, though, Luo Binghe only let out a low groan and took his time pulling back. His lips were shiny and bruised red, tongue likely already healed as it darted out to taste them. He gave Liu Qingge a scrutinizing look. “You know, most people don’t like that sort of thing.”

Of course they don’t! You’re the freak who moaned about it!

Before Liu Qingge could respond, Luo Binghe used his free hand to grab the top of his head and twist it to the side. “Spit.”

What—

There was suddenly the uncanny feeling of the liquid in his mouth trying to leave on its own, and Liu Qingge instinctively moved to aid it. He spat out blood and coughed a bit as it tickled him on its way out.

Ah, right. He forgot about the blood parasites when he’d bitten Luo Binghe.

“That’s all of it,” Luo Binghe said, turning Liu Qingge’s head back and wiping at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. The gesture was oddly considerate. “Now, either Liu-shishu vastly misunderstands how kissing works, or that was meant to repel me. Care to explain yourself?”

“Me?” Liu Qingge stared up at him in disbelief. “You should be explaining yourself. What the hell are you thinking?!”

“I was thinking I’d give Liu-shishu what he wants.”

“That’s not— I don’t want this!” he spluttered, words failing him in a way they usually didn’t. Liu Qingge didn’t much as others, but that was because he preferred keeping his words short and precise, exact in his answers in the aim of plain clarity rather than formality or listening to the sound of his own voice. But this entire situation was so unfamiliar and overwhelming that he struggled to gather himself.

“No?” Luo Binghe looked him over with an arched, dubious brow.

Liu Qingge flushed hotly. “Not this. You’re a married man! How could you do this to—”

His mouth snapped shut of its own accord, burning as he realized he’d just exposed himself for thinking about Shen Qingqiu again. It was more warranted this time, he tried to rationalize, since what happened just now would have been a betrayal of the highest order from both of them. But he also couldn’t shove down Luo Binghe’s voice in the back of his head, taunting him.

You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?

How depraved.

He stifled another shiver.

This time, though, Luo Binghe didn’t taunt him, instead sitting up a bit more. “Oh. Is that all?”

Is that all?!

Liu Qingge was ready to spit his own blood. For all the varying grudges he’d held against Luo Binghe over the years, Liu Qingge had consoled himself with the fact that at least he was loyal. Not in a way that was always obvious, back then, but after the dust had settled and hindsight gave perspective, Liu Qingge was able to recognize it. Luo Binghe was always loyal to Shen Qingqiu, and it had felt like a safe assumption that he always would be. If someone else won the gift of Shen Qingqiu’s affections, at least it would be this person who would dedicate his entire existence to making him happy.

But apparently all of that had gone out the fucking window!

His fury must have shown on his face, because Luo Binghe tipped his head back and laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Ah, Shishu,” he looked down at Liu Qingge and tilted his head like he was looking at a curious new toy. He leaned close, and Liu Qingge tensed on instinct, but Luo Binghe didn’t kiss him again, instead trailing a finger along the line of his jaw. “Would your feelings on the matter change if I were to tell you Shizun wants us to do this?”

Liu Qingge stared at him. “What.”

“We discussed it,” he said casually, idly toying with some hair that had come loose from Liu Qingge’s high tail in their scuffle. “Shizun made it clear that he’s quite alright with me fucking you.”

He spoke so casually, as if he were merely commenting on the weather and not—

Not—

“You—discussed it?” Liu Qingge choked out. He couldn’t at all fathom it, Shen Qingqiu and his carefully-maintained, pristine façade, sitting down to discuss something so depraved as his husband fucking another man. Of course, Liu Qingge knew well enough that Shen Qingqiu’s façade was just that, and he also knew, logically, that Shen Qingqiu must be well-versed in sexual matters. If not from his past habits from when they were disciples, then certainly from his marriage. Liu Qingge had spotted far too many marks over the years, blemishing Shen Qingqiu’s pale skin where high collars failed to fully hide them, to feign ignorance. But something like this?

Luo Binghe hummed, expression thoughtful. “If anything, Shizun might be upset that he’s not here to watch.”

To watch?

“Get off of me.”

To Luo Binghe’s credit, he complied this time—albeit with an overly-dramatic sigh. Liu Qingge sat up and straightened his sleeves on instinct, just for want of something to do with his hands, some way to achieve a semblance of normality. He shot Luo Binghe a glare. “What are you playing at?”

He received a toothy grin in return. “If Liu-shishu doesn’t believe me, he’s more than welcome to accompany me back to my Underground Palace and ask Shizun himself.”

Liu Qingge’s ears burned at the idea of telling Shen Qingqiu about any of this. But whether or not Luo Binghe was lying, he did owe it to Shen Qingqiu to say something. If Luo Binghe was lying, then Shen Qingqiu deserved to know what a scoundrel he married. And if he wasn’t, and Shen Qingqiu really was okay with— If he wanted to watch—

“Fine!” He snapped, standing and dusting himself off. “Which way is—”

He was interrupted by something crashing through the undergrowth, and Cheng Luan was instantly summoned to his hand as he turned to face a familiar-looking bird demon.

“Who dares disturb—” Chengzui-Jun stopped in his tracks at the sight of Luo Binghe, looking rather like he’d seen a ghost. He instantly dropped into a bow. “Y-Your Majesty!”

Luo Binghe, who still hadn’t bothered getting up from the ground, still gave off the air of looking down at the demon from where he lounged insouciantly. “Chengzui-Jun. This lord can see that the complaints about you taking things that are not rightfully yours were indeed true. Though, I didn’t expect you’d dare attempt such a thing with me.”

The air around Luo Binghe was thicker and more oppressive than Liu Qingge had felt from him in a long time, voice brimming with command and authority. His demonic energy roiled off of him, threatening danger to anyone who even looked at him wrong. Liu Qingge was so used to seeing him on Qing Jing Peak, wearing disciple robes and acting sticky and shameless with Shen Qingqiu, posturing in a way that was ultimately toothless—especially compared to this.

It was a very strong reminder that Luo Binghe was an emperor.

Chengzui-Jun balked. “Your Majesty, this humble servant meant no offense! This one was under the impression that Your Majesty had…ended his courtship with Peak Lord Liu.”

His what?

Luo Binghe hummed, gaze flinty. “Clearly, Chengzui-Jun was mistaken. My shishu and I merely had a disagreement, which has since been amended.” Shishu was said in that possessive way that Luo Binghe sometimes said Shizun, which was more than off-putting to hear, since Liu Qingge was much more used to that word being used in a taunting, sarcastic tone. “Whatever rumors you heard were overblown.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Of course, Your Majesty.” Chengzui-Jun all but knocked his head on the ground. Did Luo Binghe do something to this man in the past, or was this reaction all based off of Luo Binghe’s reputation and the energy he was putting out? “This servant apologizes profusely, and will make sure to double-check his sources so that such a transgression never occurs again.”

“See that you do.” Luo Binghe finally stood, summoning Zheng Yang to float nearby and grabbing Liu Qingge by the waist to pull him onto it as well. Liu Qingge, still a bit in shock by everything that just happened, didn’t think to resist. As they rose in the air, Luo Binghe turned back over his shoulder. “Oh, and take care of the leopard while you’re here. This lord will know if you don’t.”

With that weird conversation over, the two of them rose above the tree canopy and started flying in the direction of Luo Binghe’s palace.