Chapter Text
He had thought he would hate the cold in the Northern Ice Territory a lot more than he actually did. Shang Qinghua definitely wouldn't put it on a list of vacation hotspots, but it’s unexpectedly serene. Especially considering the cold hunk of ice he’d be (if distantly) living with for the next month.
Shang Qinghua stared out the window of the steam train, eyes tracing the trees outlined in frost. In the endless terrain of white, he was glad there were evergreens mixed in for color. Shang Qinghua knew that they were not native and therefore probably killing all the natural wildlife in the area, but, considering he’d just been pawned off by his own… people he felt he was allowed to indulge. He also hoped one of those dead creatures was not bears, because Shang Qinghua really wanted to see one.
The train itself was better than Shang Qinghua’s own home. The seats were decorated with red velvet– maybe not velvet, it could have been a synthesized velvet– and the metal was a good, sturdy iron which made whatever engine this thing was running on seriously powerful. There was no sign of rust either so it must have been regularly polished. It seemed that the Huan Hua Palace put a lot of money into their image.
He didn’t know why, but Shang Qinghua did not think of any of the Sect Leaders as frivolous types. He wondered Sha Hualing did the decorating or if he was being sexist. Regardless, Shang Qinghua appreciated it. It was nice, especially since it was a long train ride. Luckily he wasn’t in the same car as Mobei Jun. He didn’t know how fried his brain would’ve been if he had to be next to that man the entire time.
But that (mild, relative) internal calmness came to an end when the train stopped and Shang Qinghua had to struggle with his hefty luggage into the icy forest. Despite the train being opposite of what Shang Qinghua expected of Mobei Jun, his home most certainly matched him.
The walls were long panels of frosted glass so thick that any shapes through the warped tiles could be explained away as shadows from the large trees surrounding. Though he was sure the glass was sturdy enough on its own, it was supported by silver brass pipes. The doorway was a mosaic of grey and blue tiles patterned into spirals. They would have reminded Shang Qinghua of sea glass had they been anywhere but this eternal winter.
Mobei Jun, who has been leading in the front, sent most of the staff members ahead, and Shang Qinghua “baby duck” waddled after them, as he had been. The only thing that stopped him was Mobei Jun’s giant arm, to which he practically full-body slammed into. Shang Qinghua’s soul nearly left his body and even when it didn’t he was on the verge of tears.
“S-S- Sect Leader! I, sorry, I– what do you need?” Shang Qinghua stuttered out.
Mobei Jun stared down at him with indifference. He motioned for a sharp-jawed servant from beside him.
“Follow Deshi. He will show you to your room and then the meeting room we will be discussing in daily. He or another servant will wake you or summon you when you are needed. The rest of the time will be yours.”
Shang Qinghua squinted to hear him better in the strong wind. He knew it wouldn’t help, but it made him feel like he was trying. Maybe he had some hidden lip-reading skills. The kind you didn’t notice because you’d been subconsciously been doing all your life.
Regardless of what it was, Shang Qinghua got the gist. Hopefully. He followed Deshi Rest-of-name-not-supplied to his room which was great. Okay, so it was actually average but Shang Qinghua had been living underneath Cang Qiong for so long that anything was pretty damn good to him.
The size was modest. It wasn’t fit for royalty, but any Sect Leader would be satisfied in the room. While Shang Qinghua didn’t have anyone to compare it to, he felt he was being treated… fairly. Decently.
It looked warmer than the rest of the manor, which was similarly constructed as the outside of the house. The only difference was that the floors and ceiling were hardwood– something like redwoods or cherry, maybe?– and the house itself was structured and held up with silver brass beams.
His own room had similar flooring and the walls were brick. One of his walls had a large window facing out. When Shang Qinghua wondered how he didn’t notice the brick of his room from the outside, he noticed that, while his window was entirely clear, the rest of that wall was layered with the same glass-like material.
All in all, this was a house deserving of its title as the “Ice Palace”. Not by anyone, in particular, it was just what Shang Qinghua dubbed before arriving and he was glad he was right.
He finally set down the luggage he was carrying with absolutely no assistance from Deshi. The servant only escorted him and waited for Shang Qinghua before leaving and indicating the latter should follow. They walked opposite the direction they came from– the main hall– into a kitchen-like area. There were appliances for cooking but they hadn’t looked touched at all. There was also a large table a few steps down from it. They walked into another adjoining hall and passed by two huge doors that could only lead to, in Shang Qinghua’s assumption, Mobei Jun’s room. Finally, they entered into a somewhat dim room. It had plenty of windows, so it was probably brighter when it was morning or afternoon, but the lighting in the evening was a bit lacking.
“Does Shang Qinghua believe he has an understanding of where to go?” Deshi asked.
Shang Qinghua nodded. He didn’t, but disciples in the Northern Ice Territory seemed to really embrace their cold environment. Deshi nodded near imperceptibly and left.
Shang Qinghua walked around the room. He found where the ink, papers, and scrolls were and in some jars were wax for seals and stamps for dating papers. There was a large fireplace similar to the one in his own room and Shang Qinghua located oil nearby. Someone had already lit the lamps and Shang Qinghua, who knew the value of oil, had to stamp out the desire to put them out. Instead, he lowered the light even more and exited the room.
Shang Qinghua passed the kitchen-like area four times before he realized he didn’t know how to get back. Damn Deshi’s coldness! Damn his own dumbness! Shang Qinghua was able to find the study-meeting room again with less difficulty than find his own room. He walked in to see if there were servants in there putting out the lamps or restocking supplies. Instead, he was met with the tall, built frame of Mobei Jun himself. Shang Qinghua jumped.
“Sect Leader! I didn’t know you’d be in there. I apologize, I was just…” Shang Qinghua looked over to the side, “Seeing if there was enough oil for tomorrow!” He made a show of looking into the pot he’d evaluated only minutes before, “Looks good! Well, I’ll be leaving now–”
“Has something led you to believe my staff is incompetent?”
Shang Qinghua flinched.
“No! No, no, no, it’s just… we’ll I’ve had that problem myself and it takes so long just to get up the elevator and then visit Zui Xian’s workshop. This is definitely not the situation here, of course, but it’s always good to be prepared. And I-I’m always prepared…” he finished weakly. If he were “always prepared” he wouldn’t be here. Neither in the Northern Ice Territory nor, at the very least, accidentally running into Mobei Jun.
Mobei Jun huffed and pointed to a chair and desk facing the window. There were two desks that did it total, one in the back, near the door, and another desk pressed right against the wall adjacent to the large window opening up the room. Mobei Jun was referring to the latter.
“You will work here. Move your work possessions here if you’d like or keep them in your room. The choice is yours.”
The Mobei Jun walked closer to Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua looked up at him in a daze.
“Move.”
Shang Qinghua realized he was blocking the door and scurried out of the way.
After that, he wandered hallway after hallway, doing his best to make note of what he found there. Eventually, he found his room by the time the sun had faded entirely. His room was almost pitch black and only illuminated by the moon.
Shang Qinghua twisted the knobs on a few of the hanging lamps to add some light and unpacked his belongings. He had a few coats that, now that he looked at him, were not entirely sufficient for this weather. The one he was wearing after the train ride was something Shen Qingqiu gifted to him. He’d thought it was just Shen Qingqiu being dramatic as a joke, but it turned out to be the only coat he’ll be able to go outside in. The rest of the attire he packed was what he wore in the winter months at Cang Qiong, but winter in Cang Qiong was at best an equivalent to the summers here.
Now Shang Qinghua knew why Mobei Jun had been so cold when they first met. Suddenly, Shang Qinghua remembered the injury that started this all. He hadn’t even asked earlier. No wonder Mobei Jun had been so frosty…he thought as if Mobei Jun was ever not frosty.
Shang Qinghua changed into nightwear and quickly go into the bed to avoid the chill, turning off the lamps at record speed and burying himself under the covers. It was still cold, though and Shang Qinghua debated wearing the coat to bed.
Not wanting to ruin the coat, he resigned himself to restless sleep.
He was gently shoved awake.
“No, Cucumber-bro, a few more minutes.”
The curtains in his room were drawn open to let in the blinding light and Shang Qinghua slowly came into consciousness enough to know that there was no one who responded to that nickname here. He looked up at the poor servant he’d just called that and it was Deshi. Not he liked the man or anything, but the man didn’t like him either, so the ridiculous nickname had Shang Qinghua off to a great start this morning.
“Breakfast will be served in five minutes. I will later come to escort you to the study hall, to ensure you don’t get lost.”
The last part was said a bit sarcastically and Shang Qinghua got the feeling everyone knew just how lost he’d gotten yesterday. Shang Qinghua unintelligibly muttered about how unlikely it was he would get lost at this point and went to get dressed before breakfast. One of the servants came in right as he was putting on his second layer of clothes, which was a bit humiliating. Shang Qinghua wasn’t used to so many people coming and going from his room.
He went to eat breakfast, which was a bit bland but had filling dishes. This was plenty for Shang Qinghua. Unfortunately, once again halfway through, Deshi came back to bring Shang Qinghua to the study hall. He mourned the food he didn’t eat and followed Deshi. He supposed you had to be quick about things around here. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to last the month.
When Shang Qinghua safely and surely got to the study, Deshi left and he was on his own. He decided it was best that way and began setting up the desk. His seat was cold, but Shang Qinghua figured he could deal with it since it also brought him a lovely view and probably his life so long as he didn’t say anything about it. He began scanning over the documents surrounding the acquisition of Tian Yi City.
They were a bit… the word was something like “bullish”. They were confident and somewhat violent. Unlike Cang Qiong who couldn’t make a move without the entire continent knowing, they were small enough to make moves unannounced and strong enough to be making those moves all the time. Unfortunately, there was an incident concerning a competition that all the Cities partook in– that could pay for it, that is. It was an explosion in Tian Yi’s section of chambers and all of their most promising disciples were killed, as well as some advisors and leaders. They never fully recovered, never producing the same caliber of students on the homefront and, on the battlefront, their soldiers were either dying in losing battles or getting land stolen from them by the rising Huan Hua. They couldn't let go of their pride, taking up battle after battle until the best they could do was get out of them. Winning seemed to be out of the question for Tian Yi City.
The only thing left of Tian Yi City was their slowly dwindling treasury and similarly affected reputation. Still, they were the most powerful city that Huan Hua could obtain aside from Cang Qiong themselves. Shang Qinghua tried to suppress a shiver. He hoped that would never ever happen. It would be the bloodiest acquisition in history.
Shang Qinghua distracted himself by sorting the papers into Tian Yi’s history, Tian Yi’s predicted movements, and theory on social contracts to solve the problem. He also had to consider just who Tian Yi was attacking and if the proposed idea– offering military assistance– was worth its weight. He really hoped it was.
Deshi brought him lunch, but it went uneaten for the next few hours. When the man came back into the room proposing dinner in the main dining hall Shang Qinghua waved him off.
“Still haven’t eaten lunch. Won’t waste it, I’ll just eat for dinner,” he said distractedly.
Deshi wrinkled his nose.
“Sect Leader, the food is several hours old. I would not have you eat it.”
Shang Qinghua took a bite of the sandwich to make a point. It was a little stale and was uncomfortably warm even in the freezing environment. Overall, however, it wasn’t too bad. It was unlikely to give him food poisoning… probably. He gave Deshi a thumbs up and the servant warily left the room. It gave Shang Qinghua peace and quiet for about half an hour.
When Shang Qinghua was writing up a first draft of the proposal to send to Tian Yi, Mobei Jun, for lack of better words, burst into the room.
It was his usual brisk pace with a flare of anger. Shang Qinghua gripped the papers towards his chest and whipped his head around to look at him.
“S-sect Leader! You scared me, I was just–”
“You refuse to dine with me?” Mobei Jun asked in a demanding tone.
Shang Qinghua blinked in surprise.
“I– no, sir! I just didn’t want my lunch to go to waste and–”
Mobei Jun cut him off again. “You did not eat lunch.”
It wasn’t a question, really, but Shang Qinghua couldn’t stop his running mouth if he wanted to.
“Yes! No. I… am eating it now. For dinner. It’s a combined thing. Like brunch. Its, uh, linner. Or… dinch? No, that sounds terrible. And it would mess up the order too, huh.”
Shang Qinghua blinked up at Mobei Jun under the realization that it was the first time the man hadn’t cut him off and it was probably the least rational thing he’s tried to say so far.
“In conclusion, I was not trying to ignore you, sir. I was just trying to work.” Shang Qinghua quickly changed the topic, “This is the proposal.”
Mobei Jun took a breif scan of the paper.
“You have the proposal? After a day?” he asked, his natural flat tone almost defeated by his incredulity.
Shang Qinghua nodded. “Of course. I– uh, we have to work fast if we want to get this done in a month. I’m guessing we will have to amend it about three times, maybe even four. This is big for them, so I’m sure it’ll be a back and forth ordeal.”
Mobei Jun grunted and took the small group of papers to his own desk in the back of the room. Each correct stroke with his pen made Shang Qinghua flinch. It couldn’t have been that bad, right?
Oh, god. What if he decided Shang Qinghua wasn’t worth it and imprisoned him in that infamous water prison? He couldn’t do that… could he? Could he? COULD HE?
“Fix this.” The papers were tossed back onto Shang Qinghua’s desk.
Mobei Jun strode towards the door before pausing.
“After dinner. Follow.”
Shang Qinghua scrambled up and followed him past what he’d already figured was the secondary dining room and through more cool, glassy maze into the main dining room.
It was more modest than Shang Qinghua would guess, without the long, daunting table that he assumed Mobei Jun would have. Instead, the table was on the average-to-large side. There were two plates placed on the table. One was at the head and the other was Shang Qinghua’s he guessed, place to the left. He waited for the other man to sit before sitting.
Shang Qinghua poked at the meat with his utensils, uncertain about what exactly it was. A type of bird, for sure.
“Hare.”
Okay, so not a bird.
“Ah, it looks good.” He complimented.
Mobei Jun didn’t even spare him a glance.
“It would have been warmer if you’d come on time.”
The silence stretched for miles and, while Shang Qinghua had grown somewhat used to it when he was by himself, it was uncomfortable with another person there.
“I can have the alterations done by midweek. We can see what Tian Yi has to say probably after the weekend. It’ll be tight, but if we can pressure them enough it should be done by the time I return to my city.”
Mobei Jun gave him a nod in understanding the Shang Qinghua gave up on trying to say anything… would be what Shang Qinghua would do if he were smart.
But he’s not.
“Why did Sect Master Luo choose you to handle affairs with Tian Yi?”
Mobei Jun narrowed his eyes at him
Shang Qinghua quickly backtracked.
“I-I just haven’t heard of the Northern Ice Territory involving themselves with foreign affairs or in… the cession of other cities.”
Mobei Jun huffed. “It was supposed to be a conquest.”
“Oh, right.” Shang Qinghua paused.
It didn’t answer anything, considering he hadn’t really heard of the Northern Ice Territory doing so in the last eighty years. In other words, not in Mobei Jun’s lifetime nor in his father’s reign. In fact, not until the city itself was overtaken by Huan Hua Palace.
As he looked around him, Shang Qinghua couldn’t imagine what Luo Binghe’s forces must have been like to make Mobei Jun agree to their acquisition. Although, it could have been worse. Most cities Luo Binghe had little to no power in Huan Hua politics. Mobei Jun was, as far as he could tell, a well trusted and valued member in their council. Overall, it was still a very powerful position.
“Are there any positions in the Huan Hua council for Tian Yi Sect Leaders?” he asked, deciding business may be the best way not to get killed, “I wouldn’t add it in the first proposal but in the second to make it sound like you’re conceding. You wouldn’t be, of course, but it’s always good to hold onto.”
Mobei Jun nodded.
“It is unlikely,” A pause. “I will discuss this with Sect Master Luo.”
Content, Shang Qinghua happily finished eating.
After their plates were taken away, Shang Qinghua returned to the study and chose to continue working in his room. That was the option, wasn’t it? They were vague instructions.
He didn’t go to bed until the first rays of day covered the room in a blue haze.
(There was no one to wake Shang Qinghua the next day. Apparently, Mobei Jun judged Shang Qinghua worthy of making his own schedule.)
True to his word, Shang Qinghua finished the proposal by midweek and had a few days reprieve until Tian Yi City came back with their counteroffer. He really, really hoped it wouldn’t be a refusal or, worse, a declaration of war. It wasn’t that it would be any trouble for Huan Hua City, but Shang Qinghua knew he was in deep shit if it was.
The first day without any Tian Yi City work was supplemented by work from Cang Qiong that hadn’t been allowed an extension on due to its later deadlines. But Shang Qinghua could only do so much with limited materials and by the third day Shang Qinghua was free to leave his room.
After the first night, Shang Qinghua was semi-understandably not invited to dinner again. It didn’t mean he wasn’t a little offended, but it was probably for the best. It had its upsides, being that Shang Qinghua was basically allowed to do whatever he wanted.
Now, he could write his, uh, side project. But Shang Qinghua was pretty sure he’d get carpal tunnel in the next year or so and thus he chose the most unusual option: venturing into the frigid forest.
“You think I’d be allowed to go, you know, outside?” Shang Qinghua asked Deshi, who he’d discovered was no more difficult dealing with than Shen Qingqiu and wasn’t nearly as scary as Mobei Jun.
Deshi tiredly said he’d ask and that was how Shang Qinghua once again sabotaged himself. The next snowy morning, he was awoken by none other than Mobei Jun.
“You wish to assist on today’s hunt?” Mobei Jun asked gruffly.
Shang Qinghua’s memory wasn’t fantastic, more like selective. Regardless, he knew that definitely wasn’t his wish.
“Um… I suppose?” Shang Qinghua said instead.
Mobei Jun gave him strict instructions and times for Shang Qinghua to join this “hunt” and then slammed the door behind him. Shang Qinghua stared at the closed door with incomprehension for a moment before flinging himself out of bed.
Why did he always do this to himself?
Shang Qinghua arrived at the main hall of the manor on time, covered in as many layers as he could find. He knew it was still pitiful, but at least he had the coat Shen Qingqiu gave him.
Mobei Jun marched into the hall with three other almost equally large men. Shang Qinghua had a feeling his much smaller form was going to be a hindrance for them.
Mobei Jun’s gaze flitted over him.
“This is what you’re wearing?”
Shang Qinghua laughed sheepishly.
“Cang Qiong is usually much warmer.”
Mobei Jun looked mildly annoyed but let the matter rest.
Shang Qinghua was a little disappointed he wasn’t getting the cool-looking crossbows the others got. Granted, they were almost the size of one of his thighs and much too bulky for his stature. But still.
And so Shang Qinghua froze his ass off, all the while doing his best to sightsee. Through the window, it was serene. And in a way in was. But outside, the wind was loud and harsh, shoving Shang Qinghua around. The smell was odd like cold was somehow a scent. Or maybe that was snot.
The hunt was, apparently, exactly what it sounded like. It was confusing to Shang Qinghua as it definitely wasn’t necessary. Mobei Jun– and the Northern Ice Territory in general– had the funds to get daily shipments. Or, at least, the staff was capable enough not to need Mobei Jun when they went out. Shang Qinghua quietly asked this to one of the hunters and only got a raised brow in return.
“Can you think of another pastime here?”
Shang Qinghua shrugged. He couldn’t think of that many activities he did in Cang Qiong that involved going outside anyway.
“Reading?” he muttered the last part, “…research.”
The hunter just snorted and paused with the group. Shang Qinghua looked in vain to see what they were looking at. Faintly, he could make out a slight movement in the snow.
The hunters slowly readied their weapons and crept off to circle the target. Shang Qinghua did his best not to move, terrified his clumsiness will get him on the bad side of five men with sharp things. And access to a water dungeon somewhere. He looked up at the person who stayed– Mobei Jun– and flicked back to the oddly patterned patch of snow.
In the time it took to exhale, five arrows shot out, each hitting the snow leopard. The animal twitched as blood stained the pure white beneath it. A part of Shang Qinghua– his humanity he’s guessing– is disgusted by it. The larger part of him is intrigued. How could something be so pretty, be such a distinct creature and still be so well camouflaged into blankness? He goes to touch the mass and Mobei Jun quickly grips his wrist.
“Never touch a wounded animal.”
Shang Qinghua realized the leopard was taking slow, labored breaths and shivered. His eye perceived more movement, from just under the chest of the snow leopard. A tail.
“Oh, it was a mother,” he noted.
Mobei Jun found where Shang Qinghua was looking and aimed at the mass.
Shang Qinghua fought his discomfort best he could, but couldn’t stand it anymore.
“It won’t make, uh good coats or… food? Anyway, maybe it can just grow so it can, you know… do those things.” he suggested.
Mobei Jun shook his head.
“It wouldn’t. It is too young to survive without the mother. This is mercy.”
Shang Qinghua watched the form shiver and twitch its way out from beneath its dying mother. Mercy.
He screwed his eyes shut and waited for the sound of metal on metal, scraping against each other.
“Perhaps Sect Leader Shang would like to keep the kit as a gift?” the hunter Shang Qinghua was talking to earlier suggested.
Mobei Jun considered his and set down the crossbow.
Shang Qinghua was at a loss.
“Yes! Hm, yes, I do but, because I do and have thought of this, I have also thought of how that would work and would like suggestions.”
Mobei Jun pulled out a vial and used a needle to draw out its contents. Then he loaded it onto a smaller weapon, where the trigger was much smaller. The release was like a crossbow, but its handle extended vertically instead of horizontally to ensure accuracy. When the kit fully dragged itself out, he shot it and it passed out.
“It will be tranquilized and caged in the gated gardens. The servants will feed it along with the three arctic wolves we occasionally use for hunting. You may visit when you have the time.”
Well, it didn’t explain how Shang Qinghua would it into Cang Qiong but he’d given the kit a little over two weeks.
The hunt was cut short due to the newest addition but no one seemed bothered by it. Especially Shang Qinghua who had managed to get both a snow leopard and frostbite at this point.
He looked at the kit. It was absolutely adorable. It was so unfortunate that Shang Qinghua would probably lose a hand petting it. That being if it was still salvageable by the time they got back to the manor.
After such an adventurous day– for Shang Qinghua anyways– he chose to make tea in the unused stove in the hallway leading to the study. It was close enough to his room and Shang Qinghua had packed his favorite blend. Deshi brought him a cup and reminded him that there was, in fact, a team that could do that for him, but Shang Qinghua worried that they would waste his leaves. They were good! And expensive! He’d handle it.
Back in his room with a cup of tea, Shang Qinghua was able to thaw, both figuratively and metaphorically. He really didn’t know what to do with the baby snow leopard. On the one hand, it would be really cool to show to Shen Qingqiu. On the other hand, Shen Qingqiu would just remind him that there was nowhere to keep the poor thing and that it was doomed to die either way.
Well, that was a problem for two-and-a-half-week older Shang Qinghua!
Instead, Shang Qinghua decided to continue his enthralling (not according to Shen Qingqiu), deep (again, not according to Sheng Qingqiu), and vivid (that Shen Qingqiu agreed with but not in a good way) saga. It was about someone that definitely had nothing to do with Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu. Instead, it was about two people named Luo Bingmei and Shen Jiuyuan who are in a tragic but passionate love affair.
Its likeness to real-life was entirely unintended.
Shang Qinghua liked the new setting. That was one of the techniques to cure writer's block: a new location.
The next day was when they received Tian Yi’s response, exactly as Shang Qinghua expected.
Shang Qinghua walked into the study bright and early only to find that Mobei Jun must have been there brighter and earlier, poring over the scroll marked with Tian Yi’s official stamp. Shang Qinghua didn’t need to stand around awkwardly as the moment his presence was noticed, Mobei Jun shoved it at him.
He read over it and blinked at the absurdity.
Tian Yi City was more receptive to the terms that Shang Qinghua thought they would be. They were willing to accept Huan Hua’s military in order to get them out of their stalemates. They were also, without much altering to the conditions, agreeable towards conceding towards Huan Hua City. What was absolutely bizarre was their next request, apparently non-negotiable.
They asked that Huan Hua City help them gain JinLan City.
JinLan City, like Tian Yi City, was once powerful. But, while Tian Yi City was weakening due to previous conquests, JinLan was practically untouchable.
The reason being: the walls of JinLan City held in an incurable plague.