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Birds call softly as a gentle breeze stirs the leaves on the bushes around a carefully tended pond. The setting is meant to encourage focus and calm for both meditation and tending to the peaks’ accounts, so the rippling tones of the fountain in the center of the water and the melodious drops hitting the water are calculated to bring maximum soothingness to the often-harried disciples.
In recent days, the tranquil sounds of An Ding Peak have been joined by another noise.
Thunk. "Ow!"
Shang Qinghua, warrior (sort of,) scholar (if you squint,) master of logistics for Cang Qiong Mountain (unfortunately,) and lord of An Ding Peak raises his head from his desk and rubs over the sore spot on his forehead, diverting just enough qi to heal up the bruise that has become omnipresent in recent days.
"They're already married," he says to his desk, or perhaps to the air. "My son only wants to show off his husband to all the demon realm." He glares out the window. "Cucumber-bro doesn't even really want to do it. He’s happy with the wedding they already had." Not that he would ever say that out loud, especially where Luo Binghe might hear! HIs son is a sensitive soul and also a bloodthirsty and vengeful soul. Shen Qingqiu obviously dotes on his husband, to a frankly nauseating degree that Shang Qinghua, or rather, Airplane Shooting Toward the Sky, would never have expected from the scourge of the <<Proud Immortal Demon Way>> message boards. It’s going to be a wedding to surpass all weddings, or Luo Binghe will know why.
And who gets stuck organizing it? Only Shang Qinghua, of course.
Shang Qinghua, commission a new set of robes for my husband. Shang Qinghua, handle the seating arrangements, won't you? Shang Qinghua, find some sort of entertainment. Mobei-jun can help you.
"Some help," Shang Qinghua says bitterly to no one. His king has many fine features, but the only thing he knows about organizing anything is to delegate it to Shang Qinghua. He sighs and opens the latest missive from the demon emperor. Luo Binghe's handwriting has become all-too familiar to him since he undertook this task. Previously, Luo Binghe had been content to ignore his martial uncle, except for a couple of incidents where Shang Qinghua's friendship with Cucumber-bro had led to periods of completely unfounded and somewhat insane jealousy. Best to see what junshang wants. Shang Qinghua can hardly guess: yet another course for the wedding feast, comprised of doves stuffed with almond paste, possibly? Still more sets of robes for Shen Qingqiu? A guan made entirely of precious metal and gemstones (as though the lord of Qing Jing Peak doesn’t already have at least a dozen?) A bridal bed carved of teak and imbued with fertility talismans? Shang Qinghua can only imagine, which is why he simply sighs deeply and slices open the folded paper carefully so as not to miss any of Luo Binghe's instructions.
Shang-shishu, the letter begins. Well, that’s a lot friendlier than his first set of letters were. This lord has commissioned a bride-gift for his shizun. For reasons of discretion, he asks you to send someone to retrieve the commission from Madame Meiyin. Please keep it safe once you have it. This lord will expect it from you when you return to the demon realm, which he hopes will be soon.
The note isn’t signed, but Shang Qinghua has no doubt about who it's from. As to his instruction… He's been hiding out on An Ding, trying to avoid the demon realm for weeks now! When junshang says he hopes to see him soon, Shang Qinghua knows better than to take it as anything but an order. Still, he can draw this out some, he hopes. It should be made easier by the fact that he has no idea where to find Madame Meiyin.
She was another conquest of Luo Binghe’s, as he initially wrote him, but since Luo Binghe's affections are reserved only for Cucumber-bro, Shang Qinghua has no idea where she is or what she's been up to.
"Might have to go find her myself," he mumbles, struck by the sudden thought. Someone would have to go look for her, after all, and it's not like he would send any of his disciples up against a succubus. They’re not ready! This seems like a job for a peak lord, one who won’t be at An Ding whenever Luo Binghe’s next letter gets there.
Speaking of disciples—at that moment, there's a brusque, aggressive knock at the door, and Shang Qinghua goes to answer it, fully expecting to see one of his disciples, only to be met with the sight of a tall, built, aggressively pretty man with a beauty mark beneath one eye. "Liu-shidi," Shang Qinghua says, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
"Can this one come in?" Liu Qingge asks.
"Of course," Shang Qinghua replies automatically. "Might this shixiong make tea?"
Liu Qingge looks a little impatient at this, but accedes, and sits down at the guest chair while Shang Qinghua sets up the tea things. "What does Liu-shidi need?" Shang Qinghua asks. It's a reasonable question; he could count on his fingers the times that Liu Qingge has come to visit him even if his hands had been chopped off.
"It's about the supplies for my peak," Liu QIngge says, frowning.
"What about them?" Shang Qinghua asks, genuinely surprised. He knows he's had the wedding of the century on the brain, but at this point, he's largely automated a lot of the processes on An DIng peak—by which he means that he's delegated a significant number of them to his head disciple and her chosen underlings.
"Bai Zhan has been requesting whetstones and replacement training gear from An Ding for months now. We get by, but as the gear continues to degrade, it will be unsafe."
"Wow, Liu-shidi," Shang Qinghua says without thinking. That was probably more words than he'd ever heard from his most martial martial sibling.
Liu Qingge’s frown only intensifies at the outburst, and Shang Qinghua busies himself with the tea, thinking. He hasn't personally handled the orders for Bai Zhan peak in years, but he has long since instilled in his head disciple the importance of being precise and documenting everything, at least in An Ding’s internal books, if not the copies they hand over to the sect leader to go over at the most-dreaded meetings of the year—the budget meetings. He pours for himself and Liu Qingge, then takes his tea over to the great accounting book laid flat on a decorative carved stand. He flips back, scanning the logs and thinking wistfully of spreadsheets, until he finds his disciple’s notes in her distinctive spidery characters.
"Ah," he says after a moment.
"Ah?" Liu Qingge replies. His hands flex, the knuckles pushing white against the skin, and corded muscles in his forearms jumping out. Shang Qinghua can't even make a “bro, do you even lift?” joke mentally, because Liu Qingge very clearly does.
"As Liu-shidi is doubtless aware, the Bai Zhan disciples are a fractious bunch." Shang Qinghua pauses, allowing Liu Qingge time to comment, and receives a grunt and a get on with it sort of motion. Clearly, Shang Qinghua will have to be extremely blunt; Liu Qingge is not the kind to take offense. "Your disciples keep beating up my disciples," he says. "Tell them to stop. My disciples will never beat your disciples in a fair fight, but they can make their lives miserable in other ways."
"This is some kind of petty revenge for a few student scuffles?" Liu Qingge asks, his tone deeply disdainful.
"It's hardly petty to get one's own back against bullies," Shang Qinghua replies, very reasonably, he thinks.
“Bullies?" Liu Qingge says, disbelieving.
"What else would you call it when they're bigger and better trained?" Shang Qinghua asks impatiently. He doesn't have time for this, Liu Qingge! He's got to get back to planning Cucumber-bro's wedding, and God knows that's no easy task, with Luo Binghe coming up with new requirements every day, it feels like.
"A learning experience," Liu Qingge says.
"I see." Shang Qinghua shovels through the notes and finds his head disciple’s comments about the, yes, petty revenge that she is indeed enacting. "Well, you can tell them that this is a learning experience too—don't beat up the people in charge of logistics if you want your orders to arrive on time." He shuts the book with a satisfying snap. "I'll see that you get your training supplies and whatnot. But generally speaking, my head disciple does a lot of the ordering for Bai Zhan peak, and if your disciples want their new armor arriving in a timely manner, they should actually ask people if they want to spar instead of simply attacking them."
"Why are your disciples doing your job?" Liu Qingge's brow furrows.
"It's an actual learning experience," Shang Qinghua says. "She'll be running this peak one day, so she needs to know how all the systems fit together. Seeing someone delegate instead of trying to do everything by himself is part of what she's learning."
"If she's doing your job, then what do you do all day?"
Rude! Too rude, Shidi! And especially rich coming from someone who famously hasn't taught a single disciple even one thing in his entire tenure as peak lord! He only even has a head disciple because Shen Qingqiu made him somehow. Because Shang Qinghua is irritated, he decides to tell Liu Qingge the truth. “There's still the rest of the logistics to coordinate, as well as the academic schedules, because someone has to teach these children the four arts as well as accounting. In addition, the demon realm keeps me busy."
"What are you doing for the demon realm?"
"Ordinarily, running the northern Palace," Shang Qinghua says glumly. Who would have thought that he would miss that headache? "Right now though, Lord Luo has commandeered me to make arrangements for his upcoming wedding." Ordinarily, Shang Qinghua might have tried to spare Liu Qingge's very obvious feelings, just a little, by saying the upcoming festivities, or a celebration, or something like that. But at the moment, he's feeling too petty. Liu Qingge thinks he can let his disciples whale on Shang Qinghua’s disciples. This won't stand, Liu Qingge!
Liu Qingge, however, doesn't react beyond the slight tightening of his fingers around his sword hilt. Shang Qinghua has known him long enough to recognize that this is simply a reaction to hearing something he doesn't like, not an actual threat.
"What does he have you doing, exactly?" Liu Qingge asks. His voice is low. It might be anger; it might be pain. Shang Qinghua can't claim to have any insight into what his martial brother is thinking. Liu Qingge is long past his expiration date in the original novel, and frankly Shang Qinghua hadn't put a lot of thought into his character, knowing that he was destined to die in the spirit caves. Tall, handsome, stoic, good at hitting things; truthfully, the most Shang Qinghua had done in terms of giving him a personality was to establish that he and his sister loved each other very much, but really, that was more for Liu Mingyan’s arc so that she would have a reason to turn from Cang Qiong Mountain and seek out Luo Binghe. He eyes the man in front of him assessingly. Going from hating the scum villain to getting trapped by Cucumber-bro's wifebeam hadn't been a story arc that it had even occurred to him might be possible for the War God of Bai Zhan.
On the other hand, he's practically been invited to complain, and he can never resist an opening like that. He pushes a bowl of toasted melon seeds to the corner of his desk where Liu Qingge can reach them if he likes, then puts a handful in his own mouth. "What doesn’t he have me doing? Shen Qingqiu needs new sets of robes, each finer than the other. There must be the perfect entertainment—music raucous enough to satisfy the demon court but refined enough for Shen Qingqiu’s tastes. The seating chart alone has given me a series of headaches, because the demon clans keep instigating new vendettas against each other or resolving other vendettas with blood oaths, so who should sit next to who changes almost daily. And now! Lord Luo has commissioned some wedding gift, the nature of which he has not bothered to tell me, only that I'm to send someone to pick it up from a succubus! No details, mind you, on where this Madame Meiyin is to be found. That would make it too easy!"
"Madame Meiyin," Liu Qingge breathes.
"You've heard of her?" Shang Qinghua demands. He had written her as famous, yes—famous among demons! Not righteous cultivators with the emotional intelligence of a rock.
"I encountered her and her…her girls once, with Shen Qingqiu." Liu Qingge looks as though he would rather pull out all his pubic hair one by one then make this admission, but make it he does.
Shang Qinghua spends a few glorious moments trying to imagine the meeting of the minds between the famous fortune teller of the demon realm and Liu Qingge, noted demon anti. Then he shakes his head and tries to make himself stay focused on the relevant points. "Do you know where to find her?"
"… Probably." Liu Qingge is not quite death-gripping his sword again, and Shang Qinghua thinks this is an opportunity.
"You know what, Liu-shidi? You and I have never really had the chance to spend any time together. You're always off beating up monsters, or hanging around with Shen Qingqiu. You know what I think could be good for both of us?"
Liu Qingge, staring at him with an expression suggestive of dawning horror, does not answer.
Shang Qinghua grabs his arm, which has the softness and relative give of a boulder. "That's right. Get in, loser. We're going on a road trip."
*
Shang Qinghua will delete the next five minutes with its tedious back and forth about "what's a loser?” and "what's a road trip?” from his memory altogether. They don't really paint either him or Liu Qingge in the best possible light.
But Liu-shidi does move much more quickly than Shang Qinghua himself; Shang Qinghua is still packing his comfy pillow, travel brush and ink set, and multiple varieties of toasted melon seeds and other necessary snacks when Liu Qingge shows up, qiankun pouch already full and stowed and ready to go. He watches Shang Qinghua impatiently, but then seems to resign himself and simply asks if he can help. Wow, is this character development? Shang Qinghua is impressed.
Before too long, the two of them are on their swords and on their way. Shang Qinghua isn't much for sword to travel if he can avoid it—carriages are much more comfortable, really, and there are a lot more places to stash snacks—but even he can admit once they get going that the wind whipping through one's hair is pretty delightful, actually, and even Liu-shidi's obvious disdain of his airflight goggles can't dampen his spirits, especially when Liu Qingge has got a perpetual squint because of the wind, and has had to wipe at least two bugs from between his ridiculously long lashes.
Liu-shidi is something of a cipher to Shang Qinghua. By this point in the narrative, he was meant to have been dead for quite some time—Shang Qinghua’s little joke to himself about a man being fridged to provide woman-pain for Liu Mingyan. Instead, he's found that the War God of Bai Zhan is unsurprisingly gruff and stoic, but also surprisingly soft for Shen Qingqiu. A simp, in fact, one might say. Shang Qinghua certainly hadn't written him this way, so it's anyone's guess as to where these traits came from.
Since Liu Qingge says he knows where Madame Meiyin's lair is located, Shang Qinghua is content to follow him. Cang Qiong Mountain is so stately and elegant, and the Northern Palace so starkly dramatic, that Shang Qinghua sometimes forgets how beautiful the rest of the world can be. They fly over the foothills of the mountains, which gradually turn into rolling, thickly-forested hills. He can see towns and villages from above, peaked roofs and thatch, tile courtyards and dirt roads. The rivers thread through the trees, ribbons unspooling over the landscape, glittering in the sunlight. It's a beautiful day.
Liu Qingge flies unerringly, following some map or compass only he knows—or maybe he has some sort of spiritual GPS built into his head that helps him keep track of everything he's ever fought. For his part, the landscape is beautiful and watching it is always of interest, but Shang Qinghua would kill for some headphones and a playlist or audiobook about now.
They stop for lunch in a pretty clearing some distance from any of the villages they've passed. While Shang Qinghua is stretching his legs and twisting his torso to send a crackling line of pops down his spine (to Liu Qingge's apparent mild horror,) Liu Qingge stalks off into the trees. Shang Qinghua assumes it's to take care of one of the bodily functions that no one likes to think of immortals having, but instead he comes back with a spotted deer-bunny, a largely harmless creature that Shang Qinghua had decided to throw in for occasional scenic interest.
He's gotten a less a lot less squeamish since transmigrating, but it still turns his stomach a little to watch Liu Qingge deftly gut and skin the creature in practiced motions, so he turns away and brings out his own provisions—bento-style boxes full of rolls and noodles and snacks, kept fresh with preservation spells. Liu Qingge watches from across the fire he's somehow lit while Shang Qinghua wasn't looking, one eyebrow faintly raised. Shang Qinghua looks back at him.
In due course, Liu Qingge offers him a skewer of rabbit meat, evenly browned by the fire, but completely unseasoned as Shang Qinghua can tell. He looks at it, takes it, and offers Liu Qingge one of the bento boxes. Liu Qingge stares at it as though he's never seen such a thing, and the two of them sit down to their meal in mutual bemusement.
The rabbit skewer isn't bad, especially after Shang Qinghua sneaks a small bottle of hot sauce out of his sleeve and doctors it. For his part, Liu Qingge seems to enjoy all of his bento box, although he leaves the most unhealthy parts alone. Those are also the most tasty parts, Liu-shidi! Man does not live by singed spotted deer-bunny alone! Food is not just fuel—food is also fun!
Shang Qinghua keeps his inner commentary to himself, though, in the name of inter-peak relations. They’re getting ready to leave when the foliage nearby rustles. Liu Qingge's eyes dart to the remains of the rabbits, which he hasn’t yet disposed of. This stretch of forest is hardly isolated, but in Shang Qinghua’s experience, nasty things lurk close by even the most well-traveled roads. He should know; he wrote it that way. The foliage rustles again. Liu Qingge draws his sword.
"Wait—" Shang Qinghua begins, but of course, it's too late.
The creature breaks through the underbrush, and in the exact same moment, Liu Qingge slashes out with Cheng Luan. The creature looks like some unholy cross between a spider and one of those fuzzy fiber-optic lamps, or maybe a particularly deranged yarn pom pom.
"Liu-shidi," Shang Qinghua calls, but Liu Qingge is already lunging forward, sword extended as the creature—a creeping dream spinner—seems to double in size, its tentacles strands unfurling and whipping out to grab Liu Qingge's sword. It’s an irritating situation for a man of Liu Qingge's stature to be in, Shang Qinghua is certain, and he would not have chosen to put him in it!
Shang Qinghua knows this creature. Of course he does! He invented it for a particularly gratuitous wife plot. The tentacle whips are sticky, and the creature will pull off its victim's clothes like a child pulling a wrapper off a candy to get to the gooey center. It's really an affront to the dignity of Liu Qingge for this to be happening to him, but alas, so it goes. The other thing about the creeping dream spinner is that its tentacles are sticky enough that rather than a sword slicing through them, even Cheng Luan, the tentacles will simply stick to the blade and wrap it. This had been because Shang Qinghua wanted an excuse to show off some of Luo Binghe’s gentler arts. Not necessarily but because it was what the readers wanted, but frankly, because he'd been on a deadline and the last two chapters had been action-heavy, and he wanted something easier to write.
"Liu-shidi," Shang Qinghua tries again. "Try not to let the tentacles touch you! It's a creeping dream spinner! It will have sedative effects!"
In return, Liu Qingge grunts, and tries to wrench his sword away to direct at the creature's midsection. The tentacles are already ripping at his outer robe, and Liu Qingge grunts again, this one sounding more like a huff of indignation.
That's all right. As long as they keep each other occupied for a moment while Shang Qinghua searches through his qiankun pouch, things will be fine. He's no Luo Binghe, and this display is not going to impress anyone; he’s proficient in all of the four gentlemanly arts—he is a peak lord, after all—but let's just say he didn't spend any points to gain music skills once he technically mastered the guqin. What he has in his qiankun pouch, however, is a qudi. The simplicity of the flute is what had made him choose it as a secondary instrument when the previous peak lord had suggested he pick one up in case he needed to cultivate musically in a pinch. (The previous peak lord had also been practical, a trait Shang Qinghua had much admired in her.) He is…passable is the word he wants, he supposes. He knows how to play, anyway. But if he's being honest, which he must be, right now, at least to himself, the main skill he's spent perfecting on this instrument is drunkenly playing whatever pop hits he and Cucumber-bro could remember on some of their evenings together.
Which is why he ends up playing a slightly off-key and down-tempo version of “Butter.”
Liu Qingge's head whips around and for a moment he forgets to struggle in favor of staring at his martial brother incredulously. "Shang. Qing. Hua! Is that even music?"
Shang Qinghua ignores him. Whatever his protests, it's ultimately unimportant to Shang Qinghua’s purpose here, which is getting his shidi free from the monster before it strips him completely naked. It's for his own good! No one wants to travel into the lair of a succubus with his dick out. Actually, that's probably a lie, but regardless, he knows for a fact that Liu Qingge does not want to travel into a succubus lair with his dick out. It wouldn't end well.
The monster’s struggles slow as Shang Qinghua runs through the chorus again. It's not the dulcet tones of the Bangtan Boys, but it will have to do—and it seems to be working. The tentacles loosen around Liu Qingge, and slip free from his sword as the creature is lulled into relaxation. The more fool it, really, because the first thing Liu Qingge does when his sword is free is whip Cheng Luan around and plunge it into the creature's heart. This is a mistake, as Shang Qinghua could've told him, had he asked, because the tentacles tighten around Liu Qingge's now mostly bare torso one final time as it lets out an unholy shriek and finally loosens, ripping away tatters of Liu Qingge's clothes as it goes.
"Liu-shidi," Shang Qinghua says, exasperated. "I was giving you some very good advice on how to handle that creature and you didn't listen!"
"It's true," Liu Qingge admits. “Shang Qinghua was much less useless than usual." Then his eyebrows leap up, as if surprised by his own words. Shang Qinghua’s back stiffens. He’s never liked the word useless. Not when his father said it after he flunked out of university. Not when he said it to himself after his computer died and ate his outline (which he hadn’t backed up.) And he certainly doesn’t need to hear it from Liu Qingge! Especially when he’s afraid it might be, generally speaking, true. If he can just...continue to go about his life, thanks, without people telling him how much he sucks, that would be great.
Of course, the nice thing about where he is in his life now is that he'll actually say something about it, even if not many people out there are willing to listen.
"That's hurtful," Shang Qinghua says indignantly. "I have many uses."
"Hmmm," Liu Qingge says dubiously. "I have seen this shixiong run away or fake injuries simply to avoid a tricky situation."
Ouch. Hoist by his own petard, or whatever. "That's true," Shang Qinghua concedes reluctantly. "But you don't have to be a strong fighter to be useful. Look at your disciples! How much can they get done without their whetstones and armor? How would you have known how to fight the creeping dream spinner without me? You'd just have gotten tangled in the web until she killed you."
"Fighting is the most important thing," Liu Qingge says, which is not a refutation of Shang Qinghua’s point, thank you! His brow wrinkles again. "Forgive me," he says abruptly. "I do not generally say every thought that crosses to my head."
"The dream spinner," Shang Qinghua remembers. "Shit! Shidi, that last convulsion—the creature poisoned you. How do you feel?"
"Talkative," Liu Qingge says. Then, "a little dizzy."
"This isn’t a bad poison, Shidi, don't worry." Shang Qinghua reaches out his hand expectantly, and Liu Qingge holds out his wrist. As expected, there's a disruption to his meridians. However, Shang Qinghua wasn't lying; this isn't a particularly difficult poison to deal with, and it takes only a few moments of circulating qi to get the spiritual veins flowing clear again.
"Thank you," Liu Qingge says after perhaps ten minutes spent this way. "That is much better."
"Good," Shang Qinghua says. "And maybe listen to me next time. I do know things, you know."
Liu Qingge grunts, which Shang Qinghua supposes is as much as he's going to get, and the two of them set off once more.
It's sunset by the time they reach the place Liu Qingge has led them to. Shang Qinghua isn't sure what he was expecting, and Liu Qingge wasn't particularly forthcoming on the matter, but they stop in front of the entrance to a cave. It's not some simple hole in the ground, but a crevasse that seems to have been widened at some point. Decorative carvings and columns adorn the entryway. Some of them seem kind of new, and made of mismatched stone, like there were some additions made. Perhaps after an earthquake or something? As Shang Qinghua absently contemplates the intricacies of succubus decor, a young woman steps out of the cave entrance. She’s dressed in thin layers, with long hair loose over her shoulders, fresh and dewy as a peach bud just blooming. Her demeanor is coquettish and welcoming—at least until she catches sight of Liu Qingge.
Then, immediately, her countenance becomes stern and her posture shifts, shoulders coming back and robes drawing tighter around her.
"You," she says scathingly. Shang Qinghua squeaks a little, not expecting to be addressed so brusquely. But she's not looking at him—that imperious gaze is focused on Liu Qingge. So when Liu Qingge said he had visited this place before, it seems he made quite an impression. "You're not welcome here."
Liu Qingge stiffens, his hand going to Cheng Luan’s hilt. Shang Qinghua steps forward, blocking the sight of Liu-shidi's threatening gestures from the sweet young (intimidating) thing in front of them.
"Please," he says, arms spread wide in a placating gesture. "Whatever offense my martial brother has committed, we can only beg for the forgiveness of you and your mistress. We are here on Lord Luo's behalf."
Her demeanor thaws as she takes him in such, but not by much. "I don't know," she says haughtily. "It took forever to get the place fixed up after his last visit, and some of my sisters have scars."
"Shidi," Shang Qinghua says, turning to Liu Qingge. "Why did you want to fight a bunch of girls?"
"They are demons," Liu Qingge says stiffly.
"Cang Qiong Mountain apologizes for this peak lord’s rash behavior," Shang Qinghua says, since it's obvious that Liu Qingge isn't going to apologize on his own behalf. Liu Qingge makes an affronted noise behind him. And, well, Cang Qiong Mountain undoubtedly would not apologize to a succubus for anything any of the peak lords did, but Shang Qinghua is trying to get things done here! Sometimes you have to grease the wheels a little, not that he expects Liu Qingge to understand that, since his solution to every kind of problem, physical or social, is to hit things with a sword, regardless of whether that's actually helpful. "Would you be so kind as to fetch your mistress?"
The young succubus eyes them for a moment longer, then shrugs and returns into the cave.
"Why did you apologize," Liu Qingge says, as though the very word pains him.
"Because it was obvious you weren’t going to do it," Shang Qinghua says, "and if I don't make this happen, Lord Luo will probably disembowel me or something." He really did give his son so many violent tendencies! For anyone who happens to displease Cucumber-bro, anyway!
"I don't regret my actions." Liu Qingge does take his hand off Cheng Luan’s hilt, at least. "There were demons, and we were engaged in combat. Besides, they…they counterattacked."
Shang Qinghuas metaphorical ears perk up. Succubus attacks are most usually sexual in nature, rather than martial, and he can't imagine that Liu Qingge would have been pleased at having to counter such an attack. But before he can ask about it, the young succubus returns, accompanied by a beautiful woman, apparently no older, but dressed more resplendently. This must be Madam Meiyin.
"Peak Lord Shang Qinghua," Madame Meiyin purrs. "What a pleasure to meet such an august personage."
Shang Qinghua blinks. Beside him, Liu Qingge blinks too. August personage? Him? It seems far more likely that she is how she would talk to Liu Qingge, but is too irritated with him for redecorating the caves on his last visit to actually say.
"This humble one thanks Madame Meiyin for agreeing to see these cultivators."
"Of course," she says. "It is known among demonkind that most peak lords of Cang Qiong Mountain know how to behave."
Sick burn, Liu-shidi! Shang Qinghua doesn't dare snicker, though, in case Madame Meiyin misconstrues. Liu Qingge is clearly all too ready to give offense once more, so Shang Qinghua has to be smooth for both of them. "Apologies for any distress Cang Qiong Mountain may have given in the past. We are here on Lord Luo's behalf, however, and not as righteous cultivators."
"Ah," she says. "Not going to get your fortune told this time, eh?” She looks directly at Li Qingge, her expression so sweet Shang Qinghua just knows there’s a story there. "You are here to retrieve the wedding gifts, then?"
Gifts, plural? Luo Binghe didn't say anything about that! But it doesn't seem implausible that Lord Luo would give Shen Qingqiu multiple gifts. Dozens seems likely. Hundreds is not out of the question. "Madame Meiyin is very kind," Shang Qinghua says. "We are delighted to be the bearers of so personal and intimate a gift."
"Indeed," Madame Meiyin says. "Li Lingli, fetch the gifts, won't you?"
The young succubus bows to her mistress, then sways off into the cave presumably to fetch the gift—or gifts—or whatever.
"It is kind of Lord Luo to send such distinguished gentlemen to pick up these trinkets," she muses. Her gaze lands on Liu Qingge and sharpens slightly. "Why don't we make it interesting? If the noble cultivators can discern which gift is for which groom, I will hand them over easily. Otherwise, you must fight for them."
"I have been hoping to revisit our last confrontation,” Liu Qingge growls.
"No, no, no," Shang Qinghua says, in the voice he usually reserves for disciples who have added numbers from the second column into the third column. "Shidi, we are not here to fight. We are here to do a favor for Lord Luo." A mandatory favor, he amends mentally.
"That's why you're here," Liu Qingge says.
Ah? Liu-shidi, don't play these guessing games with your shixiong! He can't handle the tension and the stress! Madame Meiyin smiles, the smug smile of a woman who knows more than you do.
At that moment, Li Lingli returns, along with another young woman. This succubus is easily a head and a half taller than Shang Qinghua, and he guessed that she has a few inches on Liu Qingge, too. She looks like she could crush walnuts between her bicep and her forearm; she's certainly built different than any of the other succubi Shang Qinghua has seen. She's wearing much simpler robes than the other two, athletically cut for reasons, Shang Qinghua would guess, involving being able to snap a man's neck with a high kick at her discretion.
"Xu Wanyu," Madame Meiyin coos. “So kind of you to join us."
Li Lingli holds out the gifts. There are two bundles, both in woven baskets. One basket, carefully packed with scented grass and cotton, holds a small enameled pot with dragons and phoenixes chased in gold decorating its sides. Rich black dirt shows a small flower growing out of fuzzy, soft-looking, pale green leaves.
Li Lingli turns so they can see the other basket. In it, silk cloth wraps around a small red book and a jar of wine. Shang Qinghua leans in to confirm his suspicions about the book. Yes, there the title is: The Further Adventures of a Teacher and Disciple of the Spring Mountain. Shang Qinghua sighs, and doesn't dare look at Liu Qingge. Does he know that his sister is the author of this series?
"Guess," Madame Meiyin says simply, "and you may take them with you unharmed. Which groom commissioned which gift for his husband?" Behind her, Xu Wanyu cracks her knuckles. It seems to take a long time. There are quite a few popping sounds. "If you guess incorrectly, of course, Wanyu is looking forward to avenging your many wrongs against her sisters."
Frankly, Liu Qingge's eyes light up at this, but if he wants to have his fun with the succubi, he's going to have to do it when Lord Luo's wedding gifts aren't on the line.
"It's easy," Liu Qingge says. "Shen Qingqiu asked you to acquire this rare flower for Luo Binghe, since as the lord of the scholarly peak, he knows all manner of rare things, and it doubtless has magical properties meant to aid Luo Binghe somehow." Liu Qingge sniffs. "And the…the spring book… Clearly, that is the gift of a lustful demon."
Behind Madame Meiyin, Xu Wanyu flexes her shoulders and lets her hands rest on the hilts of her paired daggers, glaring at Liu Qingge. Clearly, if she had her way, she'd be drawing those big meat cleavers at her belt. "We are lustful demons. Speak to Madame Meiyin with respect, cultivator. You are a guest."
Liu Qingge steps forward, and Shang Qinghua can see it all play out like a dumb fight scene he’d have written, not thinking about the consequences it would have on the players. Liu Qingge who would doubtless end up hit by sex pollen again somehow, which he would hate. The succubus clan, who would doubtless be on Lord Luo's shit list after failing to turn over the wedding gifts. Most of all, Shang Qinghua, who would suffer unending torments both for his part in losing the wedding gifts and for letting Liu Qingge get involved
Other succubi are coming out of the cave now, drawing closer. Their odds of getting out of this without a naked fight seem to be diminishing rapidly. Still Madame Meiyin seems like a reasonable demon, and fortunately, Shang Qinghua remembers writing the succubus lore by which all of their clan must abide.
"By the perfumed spring, I swear we mean no harm," he says quickly. "Let there be peace between us.” Then, to Liu Qingge, he mutters, "Behave yourself. This is a good time to listen to me. Remember?"
Madame Meiyin waves a hand and the other succubi retreat. Xu Wanyu takes her hands off her knives. "And is that the answer you wish to give?" Madame Meiyin asks, one eyebrow lifted.
"Absolutely not," Shang Qinghua says. "Liu-shidi, are you just looking for an excuse to fight this young lady? Do it on your own time! Clearly, the book and the wine are a gift from Shen Qingqiu to his husband. Since Cucum—since Shen-shidi has such a thin face for these matters, he would never speak of such things, but instead choose a gift that would demonstrate his interest without him having to say a word. And the plant—I know you might not have studied it since you can't fight it, but shidi must recognize the soft leaves and delicate scent of the flower of perpetual fecundity. Lord Luo, growing up without a family, must be longing to start his own with his husband." Liu Qingge turns bright red and makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. Shang Qinghua is sorry to have to be the one to give him sex education like this, but it's not his fault they keep them ignorant on Bai Zhan!
"Correct," Madame Meiyin says, as if Liu Qingge isn't standing in front of her having apoplexy over the concept of sex. Sex between married people! To be fair, it’s more likely because he has a crush the size of Huan Hua Palace on one of the grooms.
She hands over the baskets—to Shang Qinghua, not to Liu Qingge—and says, "Do come visit again sometime, Peak Lord Shang. You are welcome here anytime." Then she and Li Lingli and a very disappointed looking Xu Wanyu turn to retreat into the caves. At the last moment, Xu Wanyu turns and blows Liu Qingge a kiss. It sparkles gently in the air, and then bursts into a cloud of glitter as it hits his face. He grumbles as he wipes it away.
Well! Shang Qinghua has learned more about Cucumber-bro and his own son than he expected to today. Somehow, the thought of junshang offering to knock his husband up—or, it suddenly occurs to him, more likely, to let Cucumber-bro knock him up on their wedding night—brings both a tightness to his throat and also the satisfaction of imagining Shen Qingqiu's face upon seeing this present. As the two of them make their way back to the ridge where they can most easily ascend on their swords, Shang Qinghua asks, "What did she mean, about telling a fortune? Did she tell your fortune before?"
"… No." Liu Qingge is silent, and for a moment, Shang Qinghua thinks that's all he's going to get out of him. Then Liu Qingge lets out a gusty breath that’s nearly a sigh. "It was Shen Qingqiu's fortune that she told. I merely thought, for a brief moment, that it might be my fortune as well."
"Oh," Shang Qinghua says, and then, "oh."
"I am sorry for what I said before," Liu Qingge says.
"I understand," Shang Qinghua says. "You were under the influence, and you wouldn't have said it if you had more control over yourself." He's over it now, anyway. Lots of people have said things about him, and generally speaking, he doesn't linger on it.
"That's not what I mean," Liu Qingge says. Incredibly, his cheekbones have a faint flush of pink across them. "I mean… Shang-shixiong is correct. There are many ways of being useful—many ways of being strong. Strength with the blade is important, but so is knowing when to use it—or not."
"Thank you," Shang Qinghua manages, rather stunned by this turn of events. He should say something nice about Liu-shidi, shouldn't he? Is that how compliments work? He hears them so rarely, he isn't certain. "Shen-shidi is a good man, but there are many good men out there. I'm sure one day Liu-shidi will find someone else who suits."
Liu Qingge comes to the top of the outcropping, but incredibly, he doesn't simply jump on Cheng Luan and run away. "That doesn't matter. One doesn't cease loving another person simply because they don't return those feelings in the exact same way. The feelings themselves are a worthy goal, not their being returned.” He glances at Shang Qinghua sidelong. "This one has found that over time, he keeps finding more room for people he respects in his heart. Perhaps today, there is room for one more." Liu Qingge once more looks startled at the words coming out of his mouth. "That succubus—blowing the kiss. It was some sort of truth spell," Liu Qingge says, his handsome face lighting with realization. "It wasn't spring magic but truth magic."
"It's okay," Shang Qinghua says. "I like you too, Liu-shidi.”
Liu Qingge draws his sword and jumps on it. He doesn't offer to take either of the baskets, and Shang Qinghua wouldn't take him up on it if he did. Fine words about the nobility of love aside, Shang Qinghua it really wouldn't put it past him to drop one of the baskets over a cliff or something, and he doesn't want to be the one to explain to Lord Luo that his baby daddy plans are on hold because Shang Qinghua invited Liu Qingge along on this trip. Instead, they begin their trip homeward, flying side-by-side, with Shang Qinghua, at least, basking in the warm glow of having made another friend.
*
one month later
Shang Qinghua walks along the well-tended trails of An Ding Peak. Birds call to each other over the sound of a breeze ruffling the foliage. Water flows somewhere in the distance, a calming counterpoint to the sounds of his disciples going about their business.
Among the peaceful sounds of the steady mountain comes a new noise.
Clang!
The clash of sword on sword is not an unfamiliar sound, but Shang Qinghua doesn't usually hear it made so vigorously. One eyebrow raised, Shang Qinghua walks through the paths until he comes to the little-used practice ring. Two young people are sparring. From their general state of sweaty disarray, it’s been going for a while.
"Older sister, if I may suggest…?" the young man says, and Shang Qinghua is startled to recognize Liu Qingge’s head disciple, Yang Yixuan, and his own head disciple. Rather than an all out brawl, the younger boy is—respectfully!—adjusting his martial sister’s grip on the blade. Perhaps it isn't so surprising—only last week he saw the two of them together, her correcting his calligraphy.
Shang Qinghua gives them a benevolent smile from outside the arena, but they're so involved that they don't notice. He walks back to the leisure house, basket propped against his hip. When he gets there, his visitor is already waiting.
"Late," Liu QIngge observes, without heat. He holds out a brace of spotted deer-bunnies. At least this time, they’re already gutted.
"Thanks," Shang Qinghua says, and accepts the string of game, leaving it over a hook outside the door of the leisure house. His disciples know what to expect from Liu Qingge's visits these days, so doubtless, one of them will be along shortly to take the meat to the kitchens.
He proffers his own basket, and Liu Qingge takes it, peeling back the linen cloth keeping the contents warm. Inside are buns made with deer-bunny meat, and delicate bamboo skewers with (spiced) meat interspersed with vegetables, and a little pouch of toasted melon seeds.
"Looks good," Liu Qingge says.
"I’ve got some of that tea you like inside," Shang Qinghua says. "Come in."
~end~