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“What had shishu called them again?”
The question immediately grates on Liu Qingge’s frayed nerves. Luo Binghe’s smooth baritone like nails on a chalk board breaking the gardens tranquil silence. It’s a question Luo Binghe has asked him before. Many times. One he’s sure to know the answer to, given how many times Liu Qingge’s been wheedled at to answer.
Liu Qingge eyes his ‘host’ - Kidnapper. Degenerate jailer. Unfilial Wretch. The list goes on - balefully.
“Hummingbirds.” He grits out, trying to move his face as little as possible.
Luo Binghe’s eyes widen and he nods as if this is new information. Delighted by his Shishu’s verbal response when all he’s done before then was grunt in his general direction, dismissively. Liu Qingge resolves to ignore him after that in favor of staring out into the middle distance over his shoulder.
Liu Qingge shifts on his ornate cushion, hair ornaments twinkling lightly as he took a careful sip of tea. It hurt like hell to swallow, his throat still swollen and sore as his jaw slowly fused itself back together.
Tea dribbles down his chin forcing him to catch it on a napkin before it soiled the filmy pale grey robes Luo Binghe insisted on dressing him in. Singlehandedly, since now he only had one good one. He kept his other hand, suspended in an embroidered sling, pressed tight to his side for fear of jostling his fractured ribs.
The fox kit dozing in his lap whines at being jostled but settles down with a gentle cheek scratch. Luo Binge scowls even deeper, having jumped to attention, napkin in hand to wipe the Peak Lord's face himself. Liu Qingge shoots him a 'look' that has him plopping back down in his seat, tossing his napkin down in a mighty huff. Liu Qingge keeps a weary eye on him as he dabs himself dry. The fox kit, now awake, perches her chin on the table's edge, ears flat as she eyes Luo Binghe like a challenger. The demon lord glares down at her too.
Luo Binge frowns at the little flying intruders as they flint about their table. He moves to bat them away before stopping himself, noting Liu Qingge’s narrowing eyes and huffs, resting his hand back atop the table.
He’d been strangely docile since Liu Qingge woke up. Lacking any of that sneering condescension he usually aimed at Liu Qingge as he healed. Perhaps almost successfully killing the man had rattled him. Liu Qingge did not care all that much to wonder if it did.
The hummingbirds, tiny and iridescent, continued to flutter about the riotous nest of curls crowning the man's head.
They dart about, landing briefly on his shoulders, hands, hair crown and to his great displeasure, forehead. One even fancies it’ll take a nap within the spiral of one particularly glossy ringlet. Settling its tiny puffed up body, no bigger than a quail egg right in its center and falling fast asleep.
Luo Binghe looked positively stricken, but didn’t dare move to crush it like his instincts told him to. He didn’t dare anger his - guest/captive/only friend - Shishu any more than he already was. He was Luo Binghe’s guest after all, unwilling or not.
Liu Qingge glanced fondly at the little thing before turning cold eyes to Luo Binghe’s pouting face.
Why this man - if you can call him that -insisted on wheeling him out here in this stupid chair, in these stupid gardens to have lunch while staring at his stupid demonic face was beyond him. Did he not have a job? Like an entire realm to run into the ground for example? How was it that he has so much time to fuss over honeyed mooncakes and dumplings with the caprice he crippled in the garden instead of discussing war strategies with this generals? Absolutely absurd.
And don’t get him started on the robes - if you could call them that - fine, flimsy and near transparent. Embroidered in the finest gold thread depicting a roaring dragon, Luo Binghe’s imperial motif up its billowing sleeves and back. The boy was not subtle. Liu Qingge expected no less of him. Impossible to do when his expectations of common decency for the boy tyrant were already sub level.
The guan Luo Binghe hand picked for him was heavy; an elaborate, solid gold piece, beautifully rendered of a rising phoenix. Long hairpins tipped with tinkling lotus beads swayed with every movement, their constant jingling worsening Liu Qingge’s migraine. How does Sha Hualing do it with all those tiny chiming bells, he’ll never know.
Liu Qingge took a deep breath and closed his eyes, counting backward from fifty only to be disappointed by Luo Binghe’s idiot face when he opened them again.
If this was Luo Binghe’s way of apologizing for beating Liu Qingge senseless after his last attempt to retrieve Shen Qingqiu’s body then he can shove it right up his arse. Along with this frankly, terrible cup of tea.
Another hummingbird landed on Liu Qingge’s hand, distracting him from rage-filled thoughts. It hopped over to his cup to take a sip of tea and gagged adorably, seeming to find it equally foul before quickly zooming off, bitter tea forgotten.
“Forgive this one for his ignorance, Shishu.” Binghe demured, half bowing, neither fully mocking nor genuinely sincere.
Liu Qingge bristled.
“But I am unfamiliar with such creatures as they did not live on Qing Jing Peak. Nor are they native to the demon realm, as far as I know.”
That's because you hail from a peak of tofu soft scholars who’d rather contemplate nature as a concept then actually go out in it. You little demonic rat.
But mainly because these hummingbirds were specific to Bai Zhan’s restricted open aviaries of which he, as an outsider wouldn’t be privy to. It makes sense for Luo Binghe to have never come across them anywhere else.
He’d spent decades as Peak Lord, breeding and rearing generations of this species of humming bird in particular. Had cultivated each generation but size, color, personality traits and functionality. This latest brood were meant to be aggressive pollinators, hardier than the last batch. Highly territorial and slightly more aggressive. They were meant to tough enough to pollinate Mu Mu Qingfang’s more vicious semi-carnivorous plants without becoming food themselves.They were never meant to travel this far off the peak, if at all. Yet....
They appeared to find themselves right at home in the demon realm. Something of Liu Qingge knows isn’t necessarily a good thing. They were after all, not native to demon realm and who knows what kind of havoc their presence could reck on the native ecosystem. At the moment they remained contained for the most part; confined to Luo Binghe’s formally ornamental gardens, thanks to an aviary array quickly cast by Liu Qingge. But in a season, following a population boom when the next few generations branch out looking for more territory and resources… He should be a lot more worried about that fact.
Outwardly he shrugs, expression bland, seemingly unworried. Inwardly he mulls over how absolutely fucked Luo Binghe’s about to be, ecologically.
Luo Binghe's lips thin into a stern, pink line, clearly displeased.
“Well, since they don’t seem to be doing any damage," yet "this one supposes they will not require extermination, for now.”
He declares, magnanimously giving Liu Qingge a look like a cracked open egg. Giving his best White Lotus impression. The sort of sweet, eager face Liu Qingge knew from past experience, never failed to soften Shen Qingqiu. Having Luo Binghe attempt it on him pissed him off even more. The War God scoffed at his shamelessness, but never one to be deterred, Luo Binghe looked on, desperate to be shown some form of recognition.
He’d been doing that a lot lately, switching from earnest, to sneering and hateful, back to shy in a heartbeat. It was like a switch flipped overnight, shifting Liu Qingge, his most hated enemy in his mind, to tentative friend. Liu Qingge wasn't having any of it. Gods, he wished Luo Binghe would stop, it was giving him a headache.
Liu Qingge nods slowly and hums, letting Binghe interpret his response as he wished. It seemed to be the right thing to do, as Luo Binghe slowly relaxed into his seat, careful not to disturb the three hummingbirds dozing in his curls, and took a sip of tea. Liu Qingge exhales slowly in relief. Then thinks, with some amusement about what Luo Binghe just declared.
Oh, you think they're not destructive now, Liu Qingge doesn’t say. Just you wait, brat. Give it a month or two when the eggs hatch and they start fighting for resources. See if you'll consider them harmless then.
Another hummingbird lands on Liu Qingge’s good hand and he lifts it to perch on his shoulder, letting it tuck itself safely behind his ponytail. Luo Binghe watches him do so with a strange expression.
His eyes seem to dart between the small bird, to Qingge’s red stained lips, shrewd kohl-rimmed eyes, to the heavy badges visible through his filmy robes. Guilt sours his expression at the sight of them and he looks away. Qingge bristles again.
He didn’t need that little demonic rat's pity, or guilt. Qingge just wants to go back to bed and put an end to this terrible lunch.
Binghe realizes this too and sighs.
The fox kit, now bored, climbs from under the table and knocks over the teapot, pisses in the salad then starts eating the broiled fish. Binghe watches the whole thing and sighs again, their lunch effectively ruined.
Maybe, Qingge thinks archly, next time you go ripping open portals into people's chambers while they meditate, you’ll make sure there aren’t any stowaways on them. And maybe next time they won’t have fox pee in the salad.
Later, after the fox kit gorged herself on their meal and the snoring hummingbirds were deposited back into their respected nests, Luo Binghe settles Qingge back in bed. Pouting all the while but seemingly appeased by Qingge allowing him to carry him from the garden. Qingge lay on his back, starting at the ornate ceiling of the Empress' chamber, and remembers something.
The water dragons. He grinned, wondering when the demon lord would notice the finger-long, shimmering teal blue water dragons rapidly populating Junshang's private outdoor spring. He hopes soon, while he is still there to witness it.
He also hopes - grin widening - they greet him in the middle of a long soak, at the demon's most relaxed, in their usual manner. Mouth first. And for Luo Binghe to learn the hard way how hundreds of tiny lizards love nibbling on low-hanging fruit.