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This was going exactly as Shang Qinghua feared.
He hadn’t wanted to go on this diplomatic trip into the East, to discuss all sorts of mindless business with one of the highest lords under Mobei Jun (and thus Luo Binghe). He was the most vocal against many of Mobei Jun’s decisions, particularly ones that came from Shang Qinghua, which meant when they needed to sort out something as big as using his land they had to visit.
Shang Qinghua had hoped that he’d be left behind. But of course that was just a fruitless wish. He went wherever his King did, even before they began courting. For all intents and purposes he was the consort to be of the Northern Desert and Mobei Jun’s most important advisor. Of course he would be at these occasions.
So here he was, standing off to the side during the welcome banquet while watching the eldest daughter of the Lord flirting with his betrothed (probably, he was unsure how exactly it had led to that point in their relationship). It was not surprising after so many demonic ladies had vied for his attention that she was taking his shot.
They all knew about Shang Qinghua, but none seemed to care.
She was beautiful, if Shang Qinghua was to look at it from a purely aesthetic perspective (he had no interest that way). Her height let her come up to Mobei Jun’s shoulder even with the sharp bone heels she wore, letting her reach his eye level. Her hair was dark and cascaded down her back, half twisted up in braids and buns that highlighted her sharp but delicate jawline. Her skin was unblemished, her lips pinks and her eyes tinted red in the way only demons could.
Compared to her, he was nothing. Short, dowdy and mousey. Why would Mobei Jun even consider him?
He knew he should have been able to push these fears away. Time and time again Mobei Jun had chosen him and rejected all the offers he got. He showed him his interest in kisses, soft and rough, and groans long into the night. It was clear when he tutted and called him ridiculous for even suggesting Mobei Jun married someone that could produce him an heir. In the quiet moments when they just held each other without need for words. He knew all this.
But why did Mobei Jun not look his way? Not even once had he glanced over to check on him, his attention right on the slender and curvy demoness talking to him. Normally he was so frequent at making sure that Shang Qinghua was alive, that he hadn’t gotten himself in trouble again or tripped over something that wasn’t there.
So why was this time different?
His heart sank and his fingers clenched around the goblet as the demoness leaned into Mobei Jun with a light laugh, black clawed fingers wrapping around his bicep. This was it. This was finally the one that he would be left for. He understood, of course he did, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.
He wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. Not here when he had to remain for appearances. Had to stand at the side alone because no one wanted to talk to Mobei Jun’s pet human.
Normally his King would stay by his side throughout any banquets, making sure he was looked after until he decided to retire (early, if he could). But not tonight. It was another difference that made him feel discomfort and sent fear through him. He tried to make himself as small as possible as he felt a few gazes on him, none from the one demon he wanted to look at him. Whispered words danced around his ears.
He couldn’t tell if they were real, or just his insecurities fighting in his mind. It hurt either way.
As he stepped to the side he noticed movement out of the corner of his eyes, a small demon with bird-like features scampering towards a corner. It would have been unnoticeable if Shang Qinghua wasn’t so attuned to watching those who scurried in the shadows like him. He followed him as best he could and watched as he climbed up into the rafters of the grand hall.
The goblet in his hand slipped out of his fingers, clattering to the floor with a loud crash as the bird demon pulled back an arrow. He didn’t care for the looks he got, the tittering of the people around him for his clumsiness, as he ran forwards.
“My King!”
His yell drew Mobei Jun’s attention, shock painting his handsome features as Shang Qinghua leapt in front of him. He felt himself thrown backwards into his King’s arms as a sharp pain radiated out from his chest. A sharp, wheezing breath escaped his lips as he looked down and noticed an arrow sticking out from his chest.
Ah. He’d taken an arrow for his King. Well, he had always known this was how things would end for him. He was just glad that he had known the warmth of Mobei Jun’s embrace first.
The temperature plummeted as he dropped, quickly cradled in Mobei Jun’s arms. The ice demon’s face was contorted in a stormy anger and his gaze filled with a sharp fear that would have Shang Qinghua panicking, if he wasn’t already beginning to lose sense of all that was going on around him. Mobei Jun’s face blurred in front of him and he reached out for it with clumsy hands. He could feel himself slipping, delirious thoughts flittering through his mind. He was glad that the last thing he would see would be Mobei Jun’s face, for all the harsh emotions currently painted across it.
At least he would go held in the arms of the one he loved.
He smiled, managing to caress Mobei Jun’s cheek with a steadily weakening hand.
“At least you looked at me one last time.”
“At least you looked at me one last time.”
The words still haunted Mobei Jun, even after the days he had spent at Shang Qinghua’s bedside holding his hand and watching his laboured breathing. He would never forgive himself if he didn’t pull through. For him to protect Mobei Jun, it was everything… yet it was not what Mobei Jun wanted.
Not anymore. They weren’t Lord and servant. He should be the one to protect Shang Qinghua, not the other way round.
So now he was here, watching as his betrothed struggled to fight off the poison flowing through his veins and recovered from blood loss. Even with the best medical attention given, after Mobei Jun had destroyed the palace around him in a fit of icy fury and teleported them to his human healers, he was still in this state. The cultivator who had treated him, Mu Qingfang, had said that there was only a slim chance he would make it.
Mobei Jun would make all those that had tried to harm his beloved pay.
And if he did not recover? He would have to make sure they suffered more, just as Shang Qinghua was now.
He drew closer to the bedside as Shang Qinghua whimpered, sweat beading on his forehead as his face screwed up. This had Mobei Jun frowned, fear that he hated to feel continuing to rage within him. The expression of emotional distress on his betrothed had him wanting to do anything to get rid of it. It was something he hated to see the most. There was nothing more painful than seeing Shang Qinghua’s pain and doubts so clearly across his fevered features.
Mobei Jun leaned down, pressing gentle lips to Shang Qinghua’s forehead. Carefully he moved down to kiss his lips, soft in a way that he irrationally hoped would waken Shang Qinghua.
Spiritual energy danced between their lips, sparking as they touched and flowing through Mobei Jun’s veins.
Everything went black, and then he wasn’t in the small room in Ahn Dinh peak anymore.
Everything around him was unfamiliar. A black box buzzed with static, pictures moving across it as if by magic. A small child sat in front of it, with dark scruffy hair and wearing some kind of baggy and cheap looking clothing. Mobei Jun slowly approached, crouching down and reaching out to the child.
His hand went right through his shoulder and he narrowed his eyes, before trying again. No luck. He took a few moments to observe his surroundings again before looking at the boy.
There was something familiar about him, the nervous position he held himself in. Slowly Mobei Jun moved around to look at his face.
It was so different, yet similar in the way wide brown eyes stared in wonder at the black box. There was still a certain anxiety behind them, as if the child may jump away at any moment, but the curious intelligence was clear as day.
It was Shang Qinghua, but it was not. Shang Qinghua in an unfamiliar place and body.
Mobei Jun didn’t understand it but he knew now that this was a dream that he had fallen into, likely caused by the poison on the arrow he had allowed to pierce his betrothed.
Something creaked open, and heavy footsteps approached them. Child Shang Qinghua leapt up, moving pictures forgotten as he spun around to face the newcomer with a wide smile. Mobei Jun turned too.
“Father!” Shang Qinghua cried out, running over to the short man and clinging to his leg. “You’re home.”
“I am,” the man, Shang Qinghua’s father, sighed tiredly and patted the top of Shang Qinghua’s head. Eventually he gently untangled Shang Qinghua from his leg and pushed him lightly back.
“Where’s mummy?” Shang Qinghua tilted his head, eyes wide. Mobei Jun watched the scene with narrowed eyes. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Where these memories his betrothed had? Why was everything so different?
“Mummy’s not coming home,” his father sighed, crouching down to look the small child in the eyes. “She’s going somewhere else.”
“But why?” Shang Qinghua’s bottom lip trembled. “Is it because she doesn’t love me anymore.”
“That’s not it. She just… has other, important things to do. You’ll see her, okay?”
Shang Qinghua nodded and Mobei Jun frowned further, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight of the small and tearful boy. He didn’t hear what else was said as the scene before him faded to back, shifting to another.
The boy was older now, still short but gangly like most growing teenagers would be. Just like before he was alone in a different place, somewhere grimier and piled with pots painted with a disgusting looking noodle dish. Mobei Jun’s nose twitched in disgust as his attention went to Shang Qinghua.
He picked up a small box, which lit up as he tapped it. Then he held it to his ear.
“When are you picking me up, dad?”
There was a muffled sound from the box. Was it some kind of communication device? He couldn’t tell.
“You’re not coming? Why not?”
Mobei Jun frowned as Shang Qinghua’s face fell, moving closer to him and ghosting a hand over his shoulder. It went right through and he let out a frustrated growl. He wanted to comfort this strange, box using Shang Qinghua… but he could not.
“I understand that they’re important. But aren’t I your family too? Dad, it’s my birthday. You promised that you’d take me somewhere. Even if it’s just for a little while.”
More muffled talking and Shang Qinghua bit his lip, free hand clenching. Mobei Jun found himself sitting beside him, placing a hand that wasn’t quite there over that clenched fist.
“Mum? She hasn’t even contacted me. No, it’s fine. I’ll go see some friends, don’t worry about me.”
He sniffed, lip trembling from an effort to keep himself from crying.
“Bye. Love you.”
The box was put down and tears streamed down young Shang Qinghua’s face, sobs starting to rack through his body as he curled into himself. Mobei Jun scowled, feeling a deep anger towards the person who had done this to the man he loved in the past.
Everything blurred again and the visions started going faster, flickering through scenes of Shang Qinghua. He was always alone.
It got worse and worse with each vision, rage and protectiveness swelling up in Mobei Jun. It increased with each time he tried to reach out and couldn’t. Wanting to attack the woman who turned up only to call Shang Qinghua a failure. The man on the other side of the box who never came to visit. Wanted to hold Shang Qinghua until all his worries went away.
No wonder. No wonder Shang Qinghua always looked at him with fear in his eyes, constantly questioning and doubting their relationship.
He understood now, he thought, as it all went black.
No one will ever truly love you. You’ll always be abandoned, the second choice, thrown to the side for someone else. Just like you always have been. Worthless.
Shang Qinghua woke with a start, breathing harsh in his lungs and mind filled with chaos. He felt himself shaky heavily even as there was a sense of numbness that fell across his body. He curled into himself, ignoring the stabbing pain in his stomach, and could do nothing but let tears stream down his cheeks.
He was alone.
It was cold. He shivered as he cried, hands clumsily grasping for the furs nearby. He sobbed softly as they were pulled over him and a strong arm curled around him, pulling him bundled up against a solid chest. Arms held him tight as if worried that he would slip away, to disappear forever, if they let go.
His tears didn’t stop even as he turned his head to press against Mobei Jun, getting as close to him as he could. He didn’t know when he had appeared, and he didn’t care. The feeling of his cheek pressed against cold skin was comforting. It stabilised him and tethered him in reality, away from the cruelty of the thoughts battering in his mind. Long, gentle fingers ran through his hair as he sobbed.
He couldn’t believe that this was real. That this demon was beneath him, solid and holding him. That he was still there. Still with him. That he hadn’t been abandoned.
Maybe it was just another memory, a dream, like all the ones he’d had to live through. Soon it would disappear. Then he’d be left alone again, abandoned like he always had been. No one ever wanted to stay with him long, why would they when there was always someone better? A better family, son, friend, lover. He was nothing compared to-
“Qinghua.”
Mobei Jun’s voice, low and vibrating through his chest, drew him out from his thoughts and back to the reality he was in. Hesitantly Shang Qinghua raised a hand to his partner’s face, fingers lightly brushing his cheek.
“I’m here.”
Shang Qinghua blinked away the tears that refused to stop flowing as another sob shook through his body. Strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him close. It was tight and Shang Qinghua curled up into it. Safe.
“Always. I won’t leave you.”
Shang Qinghua’s eyes widened as he looked up at Mobei Jun, reading the seriousness in his icy blue eyes. He meant every word he said. How had he known exactly what Shang Qinghua had wanted to hear?
“Thank you,” he whispered, before resting his head back against Mobei Jun and letting all of his tears out. His mind was still in tatters, the fear not quite gone away, but the dark thoughts weren’t at the forefront anymore. Instead he cried it all out in Mobei Jun’s arms as the demon soothingly rubbed his back and ran a hand through his hair.
Eventually the tears stopped, his face red and puffy. He must look quite the sight after it, he knew that he was an ugly crier. But even faced with that, Mobei Jun leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead and rubbed away the remainder of his tears from his cheeks.
“How do you feel?”
“Better,” Shang Qinghua sniffed, voice hoarse. He shifted and winced as he properly noticed the pain in his chest. “What happened?”
“You have been asleep for days,” Mobei Jun growled, arms tightening possessively around him. “Poison.”
“Oh,” Shang Qinghua tilted his head, letting out an awkward laugh that had Mobei Jun’s eyes narrowing. “Good thing it didn’t hit you then, my King. It was meant for your assassination after all.”
“No,” Mobei Jun bit out. “This one could not protect you.”
“I jumped in front of you,” Shang Qinghua said softly, even as his mind buzzed with half formed thoughts and the deeply pained expression in his partner’s eyes. Did he care that much that he no longer wanted his servant to put his life on the line for him? Did he want Shang Qinghua to be around him that much?
A heavy silence fell over them, both unsure of what to say. There was so much that could be said, yet neither found the way to voice it. Shang Qinghua was still reeling from the poison induced memories and Mobei Jun from the fear of almost losing them.
“Why did you say that?” Mobei Jun finally asked, voice tight.
“Say what?”
“Before you passed out.”
Shang Qinghua frowned, shifting in Mobei Jun’s arms as he thought back to what he remembered. Ah. The banquet, filled with pain and longing and not feeling quite good enough. What he thought would be his last words flickered through his mind.
“At least you looked at me one last time.”
“I remember,” Shang Qinghua mumbled, gaze moving away from Mobei Jun. “It was because you were so focused on the demoness that was hanging to you… I thought you might be interested and considering a marriage proposal from her. Normally you brush them aside instantly or at least look at me. This time, you didn’t.”
Mobei Jun stiffened beneath him, moving a hand to caress Shang Qinghua’s cheek and bring his eyes back up to him. “I would never. You are my betrothed. Only you.”
“Then why?”
“We needed to stay in the East Lord's favour,” Mobei Jun grimaced. “For your safety.”
“Oh,” Shang Qinghua blinked. So it had been a misunderstanding. A painful one, but a misunderstanding nonetheless. He felt himself relax, insecurities temporarily put to rest.
“That isn’t a problem any longer.”
Shang Qinghua didn’t ask, because he didn’t need to. Undoubtedly Mobei Jun had killed them all after they tried to kill him. Part of him was sad that he didn’t get to see it.
“I saw,” Mobei Jun continued, lips twisting downwards into a deeper frown as Shang Qinghua looked up at him questioningly. “Your dreams.”
“You did?” Shang Qinghua bit his lip. How did he even begin to explain that? How could he tell him about his previous life, that he wasn’t originally from here. That he was the creator of all this?
“I did not understand. But you do not need to explain it just now. I will wait until you're ready.”
“Thank you,” Shang Qinghua murmured, letting his head fall onto Mobei Jun’s shoulder. He wasn’t ready yet. One day he would be, he was sure. But first he had to unravel the mess in his head when it came to his past life. He was much happier to push it aside and concentrate on the one he had now.
“I am not them,” Mobei Jun brought his lips to the crown of Shang Qinghua’s head as he spoke. “I will not leave you. To me there is only you.”
Shang Qinghua blinked away tears that threatened to form again, trembling slightly in the demon’s arms. For Mobei Jun to say such things where he normally said very little… it was touching. It was comforting and he felt his mind calming down.
“I know,” he whispered, head tilting up to look into those sharp blue eyes that hid a depth of love Shang Qinghua had never thought anyone would feel towards him. “I know.”
He leaned up to kiss Mobei Jun, lips pressed together in a gentle and soft motion that shared all the emotion they both felt.
It felt safe, and it felt like the belonging Shang Qinghua had always wanted.