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On a slow day in summer, Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge walk down the slopes between Qing Jing and Bai Zhan side by side. Luo Binghe is helping the littlest disciples to experiment with qi and bamboo shoots on Qing Jing, and he watches them from on high, the wind whistling through the bamboo forest around him and children’s chatter in his ears. 

He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, even with his heightened senses. But he sees Liu Qingge say something, blank-faced and stoic, and Shen Qingqiu throws his head back to laugh. One elegant palm comes to cover his mouth but misses the perfect corners of his lips, turned upwards in a smile that could blind. His long neck is exposed, his hair falling back from his face in a dark curtain. 

This is not what makes Luo Binghe take notice. Rather, it is the look that comes over Liu Qingge’s face as he watches Shen Qingqiu laugh. His eyes go soft at the edges, even as his shoulders remain stiff and his mouth firmly set. He looks adoring. In awe. 

He is truly in love with Luo Binghe’s husband. 

“Hm,” Luo Binghe says. 

A disciple manages to grow a bamboo shoot with her qi and send it shooting straight up through his foot in a spray of blood, which makes all of the others scream. 

“Hm,” he says again, staring down at the two peak lords walking together in the sun. 

——

“Liu-shishi makes Shizun very happy, doesn’t he?” Luo Binghe asks, laying out a large pot of mustard fish stew for the two of them to share. 

“Hm?” Shen Qingqiu asks, removing the brush from his mouth to look down at the steaming food with a long, slow blink. 

Luo Binghe reaches out and takes away the brush, replacing it with a pair of chopsticks. “Liu Qingge,” he says. “Shizun likes him a great deal, doesn’t he?” 

“Of course I like Liu Qingge,” Shen Qingqiu says. He accepts the bowl Luo Binghe presses into his hands and then quickly bats Luo Binghe’s hands aside to snatch up a large piece of the soft white fish and drop it into Luo Binghe’s bowl. “He’s a good friend and has always been faithful.” 

“Mn,” Luo Binghe agrees, smiling at the tender treatment. He delicately pushes some of the stone pot rice and pork belly over to his husband and is gratified when Shen Qingqiu takes several generous scoops. “This husband has been thinking. Shizun and I are married. We share so much of our lives. Whatever Shizun loves… this disciple would also like to love. So we can share that as well.” 

Shen Qingqiu blinks at him.

“Liu-shishu,” Luo Binghe says, to clarify. 

“What… about him?” Shen Qingqiu asks. 

“Shizun likes him very much. This one will endeavour to do the same from now on.” 

Shen Qingqiu slowly lowers his chopsticks to the table. Luo Binghe reaches over and puts them back into his hands, and prompts him to continue eating by passing him some of the flavourful stewed vegetables. 

“You want to… make friends with Liu Qingge?” Shen Qingqiu asks. 

“Not to make friends with him,” Luo Binghe says beatifically. “This one will seduce him.” 

——

Shen Qingqiu takes some time to come around to Luo Binghe’s way of seeing things. He seems stuck on the idea that Luo Binghe would be attracted to Liu Qingge. This is fair enough because previously Shen Qingqiu has taken up almost the entirety of his libido or even aesthetic appreciation for anyone. Shen Qingqiu is more concerned with something about women and ‘bye curiosity’ and ‘being the gay exception for, like, Freudian reasons,’ none of which Luo Binghe really understands, but that’s fine. 

“Shizun knows he is first and foremost in this disciple’s thoughts, always!” Luo Binghe assures. “If Shizun wasn’t interested in Liu-shishu, this one would never so much as look twice at him. But, since Shizun is interested, this one can admit…” He grimaces, “Liu-shishu isn’t completely terrible to look at. His face is perfectly pretty if you can get past the fact that there’s never an expression on it. His arms are very… big. He’s strong and from a good family and he protects you, so there are worse choices for a second partner.” 

“Since I’m interested?” Shen Qingqiu squeaks. This sends them down another rabbit hole that involves a lot of pacing and shouting on Shen Qingqiu’s part and a lot of soothing reassurances and cups of calming tea on Luo Binghe’s. At one point, Shen Qingqiu constructs an illustrated flowchart, which Luo Binghe thinks is really quite good. He quietly rolls up and hides away the shirtless pictures of himself and Liu Qingge that Shen Qingqiu painted on bits of parchment to make some sort of point that Luo Binghe may have lost track of. 

In the end, they resolve thusly: Luo Binghe is not planning to gain himself a harem of beautiful men, Yue Qingyuan is off the table although they can both privately admit to each other, as husbands, that they’ve both thought about it with him, and Shen Qingqiu is, in fact, attracted to Liu Qingge, who is likely to reciprocate that interest. 

“So this disciple just needs to make sure Liu-shishu and I can get along as well,” Luo Binghe says when this has all been concluded. Shen Qingqiu is draped across his lap, Luo Binghe combing his fingers through his hair, both of them dressed for sleep. “Then we can share him like we share everything else.” 

“Are you truly sure, Binghe?” Shen Qingqiu asks, brows pinching. “I never want you to feel like you need to do something you’re not comfortable with just to make me happy. I’m already happy. I am more than happy with you.” 

“I know,” Luo Binghe says, and he works hard inside himself to make sure that it’s true. He and Shen Qingqiu have been married for seven years. Shen Qingqiu has followed him all across the three realms and finally back to Qing Jing Peak, where they are working hard to make a home together: the sort neither of them have ever had before.

Luo Binghe leans down and presses a lingering kiss to Shen Qingqiu’s mouth. His husband tastes like the fish and peppers from their dinner. His lips are soft, cool. 

“I want this too. At least to try,” Luo Binghe says. 

Shen Qingqiu smiles up at him. “Okay. We’ll try it.”

This is all very good. But, given Liu Qingge is already in love with Shen Qingqiu, that means it's up to Luo Binghe to make his move. 

——

1. Physical Affection

Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge touch often. When Liu Qingge hands Shen Qingqiu back one of his many silk fans, their fingers trail over each other. When they walk together, Shen Qingqiu brushes their arms together. When they spar, Liu Qingge pins Shen Qingqiu’s wrists and legs and lays, panting, overtop of him until Shen Qingqiu admits defeat. 

Physical touch is an important part of intimacy, and not just between romantic partners. Although morays between humans and demons differ, touch is essential in making his close subordinates comfortable and appreciated. It shows trust to potential allies, and affection to potential friends. 

Luo Binghe doesn’t have a lot of friends or allies, but he has lied and tricked his way into a fair number of people’s good graces through false shows of camaraderie or trust, and it can’t be that different. More importantly, now that he has gotten through Shen Qingqiu’s prickly exterior, he knows that his husband loves to cuddle. Shen Qingqiu is standoffish in most circumstances, but when Luo Binghe pokes and prods and inches his way closer he melts into his touch like a happy, spoiled cat.

The next time Liu Qingge is over at the bamboo house, Luo Binghe chooses the seat next to him. 

Liu Qingge looks at him warily at him over his cup of tea. On the other side of the table, Shen Qingqiu sips from his own cup with a placid expression. 

Over the course of the afternoon, Luo Binghe tries to creep closer until their thighs are pressed together. He’ll scooch a bit to the side and their clothed legs will brush… and ever time, Liu Qingge moves away. 

He tries taking the man’s hand or arm when they train together, and Liu Qingge grimaces and shies away. Luo Binghe grabs his jaw when making a probing remark and Liu Qingge wrenches his chin from his grip. Luo Binghe once even throws an arm over both his and Shen Qingqiu’s shoulders when they’re walking together. Liu Qingge, startled, grabs his arm and flips him into the dirt. 

It’s a little hot. But not, yet, what Luo Binghe is going for. 

2. Monsters

“For you, Shishu,” Luo Binghe says, and drops the ironhide willow slug at Liu Qingge’s feet. A few feet away, sitting under a tree and idly fanning himself, Shen Qingqiu makes a curious noise of appreciation. 

Liu Qingge stares down at it blankly for a beat, then levels Luo Binghe with a glare. 

“What is this.” 

“It is a rare demonic beast. Its hide is notorious for being so strong that regular sword-steel shatters on impact,” Luo Binghe says, feeling rather proud of himself. “This one slayed it personally. With his claws.” 

“I can kill one at least twice as large,” Liu Qingge says. 

Luo Binghe’s eye twitches. “I’d like to see Liu-shishu try without snapping Cheng Luan like a soft branch.” 

“You’re on.” 

The resulting hours of battle are not particularly romantic, although they are therapeutic for relieving stress. Shen Qingqiu takes out a set of paints under his tree. 

3. Gifts

“For you, Shishu,” Luo Binghe says, and holds out a small carved box. 

Liu Qingge eyes the box without about twice as much suspicion as he did the enormous yellow slug. “What.” 

Luo Binghe thinks peaceful thoughts. Think about Shizun. Think about the wind whistling through Qing Jing’s bamboo forest. Think about Liu Qingge’s biceps. 

“It’s a gift,” he says, and is pleased that his voice does not come out as stiff as it feels. “For you.” 

Warrily, as though expecting a trap hidden in a hand's width of wood, Liu Qingge opens the box. Inside, a set of intricate silver earrings lay on soft blue silk. Each earring is made from a thin, tear-drop shaped loup filled with filigree layers of mother of peal, overlapping like rolling waves. Another, small drop-shape dangles off the bottom, white stone with black veins. 

They’re beautiful, delicate but fierce in their muted colours and streamlined shape. Luo Binghe bought them from a fine jeweller located near Huan Hua Palace who was known for fine spiritual craftsmanship. 

“... what am I supposed to do with these?” Liu Qingge asks. 

Luo Binghe almost smashes the box into his face. 

4. Compliments

“Shishu is looking particularly handsome today,” Luo Binghe says, dropping to fly next to Liu Qingge on Zheng Yang. He offers Liu Qingge a dazzling smile with just a hint of fang. “Your hair looks very… luscious. And Cheng Luan looks so sharp. Truly incredible.” 

“... are you trying to fight?” Liu Qingge asks. 

5. Food

So nothing else is going particularly well so far. 

It’s fine. It’s fine! Luo Binghe did not expect this seduction to be easy, no matter what he may have told himself, Ning Yingying, and Shizun at the start. Liu Qingge is obviously a brute with no manners, which Luo Binghe should have expected based on every interaction they have ever had. 

Maybe gifts were a bust. Maybe fighting monsters and complimenting him were barely noticed as anything but challenges. That’s fine! He still has a trump card in his back pocket: food. 

Cooking was once Luo Binghe’s one true joy in life. His mother might have died, his master might have betrayed him, he might be alone in the world with a lifeless—ah, anyways. When no one else is there to tether him to humanity, cooking is something he still finds warmth and comfort in. It’s meditative, and it fills that thing that lives inside of him that needs to care for others in order to feel settled. Eating his food makes people happy. 

Shizun always says the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and Luo Binghe always aims to prove that saying true either literally or figuratively. In this case it will be figurative, and Liu Qingge will be so blown away by his cooking prowess that he will be instantly enamoured with Luo Binghe (or at least his chao he cai) and the three of them will live happily ever after as mutually supportive partners. It’s foolproof. 

Luo Binghe decides to make a simple, homey dinner. The aforementioned chao he cai, beef rolls, rice, and fresh fruit for dessert. It’s not unusual for Liu Qingge to come by around meal times, so this time Luo Binghe simply sets out dishes for three instead of two and allows Shen Qingqiu to gently bully Liu Qingge into joining them at the table when they arrive. 

“Please, join us, Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu says, and Luo Binghe defly steals the teapot from him to pour for all three of them when his Shizun makes a move to do so instead. 

“... thanks,” Liu Qingge says. 

Luo Binghe watches him like a hawk throughout the meal. 

Instead of devouring the food like Luo Binghe anticipated, Liu Qingge… eats a few bites. He has some of the noodles. He eats some rice. He nibbles at a beef roll. He drinks the tea. 

At the end of the meal he excuses himself, having barely touched his food. Luo Binghe snaps his chopsticks in half. 

The next time, Luo Binghe tries different food. Maybe Liu Qingge just didn’t like eggs, or beef, or bean sprouts. Everyone has different tastes. 

Liu Qingge never does more than pick at the food with an expression ranging from disinterest to active dislike. Every. Single. Time. Nothing Luo Binghe makes entices him no matter the dish or the ingredients. 

“Liu-shishu,” Luo Binghe asks, sickly sweet, the third time they have a meal together. “Is the food not to your taste?” 

“It’s fine,” Liu Qingge says, and fails to eat anything but a single slice of carrot. 

——

“Shizun, it’s completely hopeless!” Luo Binghe complains, throwing himself down next to Shen Qingqiu’s writing desk. 

“Oh?” Shen Qingqiu asks, carefully swiping his brush across parchment. Luo Binghe glances at his papers with a pout. Surely his anguish is more important than kindly eviscerating that disciple’s essay. 

“Shizuuun,” he whines, wriggling to plant his face on Shen Qingqiu’s thigh. 

Shen Qingqiu laughs and sets aside his brush. “What is it, Binghe?” 

“Liu Qingge,” Luo Binghe says. “He’s impossible! I’ve tried everything. Every trick in my arsenal. He’s not being seduced at all. Shizun, he’s like stone!” 

“Really?” Shen Qingqiu asks, tapping his chin. “I thought things were going pretty well.” 

“How?!” 

“Well, we’ve been getting along well when we all spend time together. You and Qingge used to just silently glare at each other across my tea table. Now you’re both more relaxed, and we can have actual conversations. And we’ve been going on all those hunts together.” 

“Hmph,” Luo Binghe says. Shen Qingqiu’s hand begins to stroke and pet his hair, which does a lot for unwinding him.

“If things really aren’t working out, you know you don’t have to do any of this, right?” Shen Qingqiu asks. “We can go back to how we were. Nothing has been made official. It’s alright if you just don’t get along. I love you both, in different ways, and that won’t stop if we can’t all be together like this.” 

“No,” Luo Binghe says firmly, sitting up. He plants his hands on Shen Qingqiu’s writing desk. “I am not giving up! He won’t defeat me!” 

“I’m not sure if that's…” Shen Qingqiu stops and shakes his head, lips turning up into a small smile. “Never mind. This master supports Binghe’s choices. You’re very brave.” 

Luo Binghe beams and dives back in for some more cuddles while Shen Qingqiu works. He has the best husband, and he’s going to make Liu Qingge feel so goddamn romanced. 

——

To all of their credits, Luo Binghe does begin to take notice of the things that Shen Qingqiu mentioned. He pays more attention when the three of them are spending time together, and he thinks he knows what his shizun meant. 

When Liu Qingge shows up at the bamboo house unannounced at strange hours, he invites both of them out on hunts and expeditions off the mountain. When they’re all talking, he pauses and looks to Luo Binghe for his opinions and reactions. Once, when he grabs Shen Qingqiu’s sword to polish after a sparring session (not a metaphor, sadly), he ends up stealing Luo Binghe’s Zheng Yang as well and giving it the same methodical, thorough care that leaves Luo Binghe feeling somewhat hot under the collar. 

When Shen Qingqiu is quiet and sombre, Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge team up to get him ranting about his favourite terrible novels. On hunts, they begin to fight back to back, defending each other’s weaknesses and blind spots as well as Shen Qingqiu’s. Liu Qingge begins to stay later and later at their home when he visits, just… talking. To both of them! He asks Luo Binghe about battle tactics, about the politics of the demon realm, about monsters he’s faced that Liu Qingge has never fought. Even when all of Luo Binghe’s seduction techniques have failed horribly, it’s almost like the man… enjoys talking to him? Not flirting, or verbally sparring, but just… chatting. The way he and Shen Qingqiu do. 

Luo Binghe is aware of what he’s like. It has been made abundantly clear to him over the years that he is by turns abrasive, demanding, childish, clingy, cold, manipulative, too demonic, too human. He is too much in too many ways. It is a miracle that Shen Qingqiu has agreed to spend their lives together, and Luo Binghe is only fifty percent sure on a good day that it has anything to do with his personality. 

There’s no way that Liu Qingge is going to be seduced by talking to him. Luo Binghe still needs to show him that he’s a good option for a partner, almost as much as Shen Qingqiu is, under the right circumstances. 

But things do feel like they’re going well. So well that, despite the disastrous early attempts, Luo Binghe thinks Liu Qingge has softened to him. Warmed up. Might, now, be willing to more openly consider all that Luo Binghe has to offer. 

It’s time to try dinner again. 

——

Last time, Luo Binghe had made nice, solid, good quality home cooked meals and had gotten… absolutely no response. This time he goes all out. There is no way Liu Qingge could be unimpressed with his culinary showing. He spends all day in the kitchen preparing enough food for at least six people. Scallops with glass noodles, tofu salad, red date meatball soup, whole fried fish, river root stir fry… flavourful and fragrant dishes that he knows will impress. 

Shen Qingqiu drifts in and out of the kitchen throughout the day as he cooks, poking at pots and tasting sauces. Luo Binghe tests little samples on him and flushes with pride each time Shen Qingqiu compliments his skills, shooing his husband away with a little tray of tea cakes when he tries to snatch snacks early. He might be known as a fearsome martial power, a great ruler, a terrifying demon lord, but he never feels as competent and comfortable as he does in the bamboo house’s small kitchen. This is his only true domain. 

That night, he lays everything out on the bamboo house’s main table. He’d changed out of the robes he wore while cooking and now has on one of his nicest casual robes, a soft and sleek teal and red set that always makes Shen Qingqiu blush to see him in. By the time he’s finished setting the table with all of the food, the thing is practically creaking under the weight. It’s possible he went a little overboard for three people, but it’s fine. He’ll feed the leftovers to the littlest disciples, those gluttonous cretins will devour them in no time. 

He’s practically glowing when Liu Qingge arrives. Next to him, Shen Qingqiu keeps giving soft little amused snorts through his nose that he is ignoring even if it is very cute. 

Liu Qingge steps inside the bamboo house and looks between the two of them. His nose scrunches ever so slightly. 

“What’s going on?” he asks. 

“Binghe wanted to invite you to eat with us,” Shen Qingqiu says. “As you can see, he made much too much food for just the two of us. Shidi would be doing us a favour to help us out with it.” 

Stiffly, Liu Qingge allows himself to be led over to the table. Luo Binghe interjects at the last moment to seat him between himself and Shen Qingqiu, rather than next to Shen Qingqiu where he usually goes. It causes the man to send him a wary look. 

Luo Binghe keeps up a light stream of chatter, drawing Shen Qingqiu into easy, casual conversation. He distracts with tales of the little juniors while subtly serving both Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge. Shen Qingqiu casts him indulgent looks and makes sure Luo Binghe takes plenty for himself. 

Liu Qingge looks uncomfortable. He barely speaks. He picks up his chopsticks and pokes at the little dishes and bowls that Luo Binghe slides his way. 

Shen Qingqiu eats neatly but with great appreciation. He compliments Luo Binghe on the ingredients—the fish and river roots he gathered himself, the texture of the tofu and the noodles, the flavour of the sauces and broths. 

Luo Binghe appreciates this, as always. He has spent so long learning the perfect ways to show and exchange affection with his husband, and every moment he knows he has done a good job providing something Shen Qingqiu needs, something material he truly enjoys, that comes from Luo Binghe’s own hands, is a gift. Still, this time, he has to admit to paying more attention to Liu Qingge’s reactions than his own husband’s. 

Liu Qingge… continues to pick at his food. He eats a meatball. He drinks two cups of tea that Luo Binghe pours for him. After barely a quarter shichen, he makes a hasty excuse and leaves. 

Luo Binghe throws down his chopsticks. 

“I can’t believe it,” he hisses. “That—that—” 

Shen Qingqiu makes a soft noise and places a hand on Luo Binghe’s arm. Luo Binghe wants to push away his touch, and feels badly for the impulse. He swallows hard and is embarrassed to feel tears prickling at his eyes. 

“Oh, Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu says. He places his own chopsticks down and shuffles around the table to embrace Luo Binghe. This time, his touch is only a comfort, and Luo Binghe leans into it. 

“Ungrateful!” Luo Binghe says once he has dried his eyes and Shen Qingqiu has pushed a cup of tea into his hands. 

“Mn,” Shen Qingqiu says, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. 

“Shizun,” Luo Binghe says entreatingly, “I really thought it would work this time. Things have been going so well!”

“They have,” Shen Qingqiu says gently. 

“And he keeps coming over!” 

“He does.” 

Luo Binghe growls wordlessly. Furious, he stuffs some noodles in his mouth. They’re good. He knows they’re good!
“‘Ey’re ‘ood,” he says angrily through the mouthful. 

Shen Qingqiu hides his face behind a sleeve. “They are.” 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Luo Binghe whines. 

Shen Qingqiu’s expression has been wiped clean when he lowers his sleeve. “Of course,” he says, and Luo Binghe glares at him for this lying and trickery. 

“Nothing I’m doing is working,” Luo Binghe complains. “Shizun, I was wrong, I think it really is beyond hope. Every time I think we’re getting somewhere, this happens! One step forward, two steps back. I’m never going to be able to seduce Liu-shishu, he hates me.” 

This time, Shen Qingqiu is too slow raising his sleeve, and Luo Binghe sees his lips curl into a small smile. 

Shock! Affront!
“Shizun,” Luo Binghe says despondently. His husband is so cruel to him. 

“Yes, yes, alright,” Shen Qingqiu says, finally letting out the laughter he was suppressing. 

“Shizun!” 

“Binghe,” Shen Qingqiu echoes, voice warm with affection. 

“What am I doing wrong? I’m good at romance. I seduce you all the time. You like my food and my gifts and snuggling and—” 

“Binghe,” he interrupts, in the tone of voice that means something like darling, “Liu Qingge is different than I am. He is a difficult man to understand, and he doesn’t voice what he likes or dislikes very often.”

“Shizun doesn’t voice his likes or dislikes either. I don’t need him to explain, I understand them anyways,” Luo Binghe says petulantly. 

Shen Qingqiu snorts, although his face goes a bit pink at Luo Binghe’s words. “Yes, but Binghe studied this master like one of the four arts. Perhaps Binghe should consider applying some of those same studious observational skills to his Liu-shishu.” 

At Luo Binghe’s frown Shen Qingqiu’s expression only turns softer. 

“You just need to figure out how to approach him,” he says, reaching out to bop Luo Binghe gently on the head with his fan. “Things that are good for one person aren’t always good for another.” 

——

In light of his teacher’s wisdom, Luo Binghe reassesses his methods of seduction.  

1. Physical Affection

Touch is one area in which Luo Binghe feels he has made absolutely no progress. He still snuggles and lays on and sometimes kisses Shen Qingqiu when the three of them are spending time together, but Liu Qingge never initiates contact and always looks uncomfortable when Luo Binghe attempts to draw him in in some way. 

He decides to test his new observation strategy in this area first. It is one of the most frustrating because he knows Liu Qingge will touch Shizun. Is it Luo Binghe’s demonic nature that is so off putting to the man? 

If so, there is nothing Luo Binghe can do about it, and it will be best to know that now so he doesn’t waste his time going forward. He has tried in a hundred small and large ways to make himself solely human, and Shen Qingqiu has spent years of their marriage patiently coaxing these attempts away. Despite the hatred for demons Shen Qingqiu once held in his heart, despite the pain of his rejection and fear in those horrible days, Shen Qingqiu has made it clear every day since that he wants Luo Binghe as he is, not as Luo Binghe thinks he will be wanted. It is too essential to the love and trust between them to risk backtracking just for Liu Qingge. 

Still, he promised Shizun to try studying the man before giving up, so he does so. 

He watches the way Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu touch, much of it already observed. Knocking their shoulders together, brushing hands, helping each other with their hair, offering a hand up after a spar. 

Even these small outreaches do not yield results for Luo Binghe. Where Liu Qingge allows Shen Qingqiu access to himself with fond affection, he shies back from Luo Binghe when he makes the same gestures. 

Luo Binghe is nearly ready to accept that his insecurities are true, that he’ll never be able to breach the boundary of physical touch between them, when he catches sight of Liu Qingge and Liu Mingyan meeting beside one of the rainbow bridges one day. 

Something about the sight catches at him, and he quickly ducks aside from his own path, passing a basket of laundry off to a squawking Ming Fan in favour of hiding behind a tree and watching the two siblings speak. 

Liu Qingge nods to his sister, and Liu Mingyan nods back. The two of them stand several feet apart, both with their typical graceful and battle-ready posture. He only hears the vaguest murmur of their words, but it’s fine, that’s not what he’s paying attention to. 

They maintain that physical distance between each other the entire time they speak. When they are finished Liu Mingyan gives another small nod that Liu Qingge returns. Then Liu Qingge reaches out a hand and Liu Mingyan steps forward and brushes their fingers together before returning to whatever she was doing before they met, trotting off along the rainbow bridge while Liu Qingge continues heading towards Bai Zhan. 

Interesting. 

Luo Binghe makes a point of observing Liu Qingge’s interactions with others extremely closely in the coming weeks. He catalogues every conversation he can witness without being called out for the admittedly overbearing and invasive behaviour. 

As it turns out… Liu Qingge doesn’t touch anyone. He doesn’t pat his disciples on the shoulders or backs, doesn’t hug his sister or ruffle her hair, and doesn’t let his hand brush against any of his other martial siblings when exchanging tea cups or paperwork. He doesn’t even offer his defeated opponents a hand up after sparring, apparently preferring instead to let them limp away in shame and move on to the next battle. 

The next time Liu Qingge comes over to spend time at the bamboo house, Luo Binghe tests his theory. He makes no physical outreaches to Liu Qingge, giving the man his space without being any less clingy at Shen Qingqiu, who indulges him by leaning against him and petting his hair at least twice. 

Liu Qingge doesn’t make any efforts to touch him but, without Luo Binghe initiating anything purposefully, nor does he move away from him when they move near each other naturally. The next time they meet, at the end of the conversation, Luo Binghe reaches out and briefly brushes his hand against Liu Qingge’s, palm to palm. Liu Qingge startles, but Luo Binghe is already moving on, heading back to the class he has to teach the children on weiqi strategy. 

He keeps this habit up, and by the fourth or fifth time Liu Qingge will reach out to him. They do a small touch of their finger-tips or bump of the arm as a goodbye. It causes Liu Qingge’s face to do things it has never done in Luo Binghe’s direction before. He isn’t sure what they are, but it involves his shishu going a little pink around the ears and makes Shen Qingqiu hide small smiles, so Luo Binghe thinks it's something good. 

A few weeks later, the three of them are looking through ancient scrolls that Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua uncovered in some remote part of the demon realm. Shen Qingqiu, keeping up a constant stream of chatter about the implications of the scrolls and their potential uses, spreads one out on the small table in his study. Liu Qingge and Luo Binghe both crowd around to see. 

The position presses Liu Qingge into Luo Binghe’s side. Luo Binghe stills, expecting Liu Qingge to move away at once. Instead, Liu Qingge ducks his shoulders so that they’re flush, side to side, and they can bow their heads together with Shen Qingqiu to look. Warmth blooms, low and startling, in Luo Binghe’s chest. 

2. Monsters

Despite the failure to impress Liu Qingge with his monster-hunting prowess, the three of them have continued to go on hunts together. It was their primary bonding activity even before Luo Binghe began his quest of Liu-Qingge-based-seduction, and it hasn’t stopped despite the ups and downs of that journey. Thinking on Shen Qingqiu’s words, Luo Binghe thinks it’s possible that this particular method of wooing may actually have been a success. 

Previous attempts at showing Liu Qingge what a skilled hunter he is have only gotten them into fights. This has… actually not been such a bad thing. He likes fighting with Liu Qingge. He thinks that Liu Qingge, perhaps, likes fighting with him. 

Luo Binghe decides he will cut out the middle man. He begins to track interesting beasts, not to kill or capture and return to show off, but for him and Liu Qingge to hunt together. He and Liu Qingge challenge each other and guard each other’s backs in equal measure. The thrill of the hunt is almost as much of a rush as the thrill of meeting blades in a spar with the Bai Zhan War God. 

It isn’t at all like with Shen Qingqiu, but Luo Binghe finds over time that he doesn’t mind so much. 

The second or third hunting trip they take like this, Luo Binghe realises halfway through that Shen Qingqiu isn’t beside him anymore. He was so caught up in the challenge, the thrill of competition and the hunt, that he missed his husband’s departure entirely. He hastily backtracks to find Shen Qingqiu on a cliff’s edge over the canyon they’re fighting in. He has an easel out and is gently sponging at some of the ink on his painting with a sleeve, staining the white cuff black. 

“Shizun?” Luo Binghe calls, as baffled with his husband as with himself. 

“Hm?” Shen Qingqiu asks, not glancing up. 

“What are you doing up there?” 

“This master is painting the beast. This is a good viewing point.” 

Luo Binghe tilts his head. “Shizun… doesn’t want to join in the hunt?” 

Shen Qingqiu hums. When he finally looks away from his painting, his expression is cool and his eyes half-lidded. “Binghe, this master has to admit, sometimes I prefer to watch.” 

3. Gifts

Luo Binghe enters the Bamboo House and steps immediately into a puddle. 

“What,” he says, and raises his boot. There are small pools of water all over the floor. A burst of laughter comes from farther inside, and he follows both the sound and the water into their receiving room. 

“—re a cultivator!” Shen Qingqiu is shouting, one hand in the air, the other brandishing a pale yellow fan in sharp swipes, as though miming hitting someone with it. “It’s barely even any blood!” 

“It’s not the same!” Shang Qinghua, hunched over across the room with his hands over his eyes, facing the wall, shrieks back. 

“How do you faint three times?” 

“I’m sensitive!” 

In between the two peak lords, Liu Qingge is kneeling peacefully on a cushion at their table with Cheng Luan lying on the tabletop and his hands folded in his lap. Mobei-jun, all eight chi of him comically oversized and made more so by his thick fur cloak, crouches next to Liu Qingge with a small piece of rapidly melting ice in his hand. As he watches, the ice drips onto the table and Mobei-jun summons more with a small grimace while Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua squabble. He raises it to Liu Qingge’s ear and picks up something in his other hand that some squinting reveals to be one of Luo Binghe’s good bone sewing needles. 

Luo Binghe clears his throat. The chaos immediately quiets as all four of them turn and look at him, like mice that have just been unearthed in their burrow. 

“I hope you’re planning to clean that up,” Luo Binghe says, nodding his chin at the water dripping onto the floor. 

“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu exclaims. 

Mobei-jun uses this moment of distraction to jab the needle into Liu Qingge’s earlobe. Shang Qinghua, who straightened and turned from his crouch to look at Luo Binghe, makes a loud retching noise at the sight and flings himself against the wall. Liu Qingge’s expression does not change the slightest bit. 

Shen Qingqiu sweeps across the room and stops just short of reaching for Luo Binghe. He draws his hand back at the last moment and clears his throat, snapping open his fan to flutter in front of his flushed face. From Luo Binghe’s husband, this is a very effusive greeting, and Luo Binghe smiles at him. 

“Luo Binghe,” he repeats more softly. “Please excuse this nonsense. I will make sure they clean up as soon as we’re done.” 

“What are they doing, Shizun?” Luo Binghe asks. Shen Qingqiu begins shepherding him away, which Luo Binghe allows generously, taking his hand and giving it a small squeeze. He does keep his eyes on Liu Qingge and Mobei-jun though, so he sees Mobei-jun pick up a delicate silver and mother-of-pearl earring and slide it into the new hole in Liu Qingge’s ear. Liu Qingge turns his head so that Mobei-jun can get to the other side. Shang Qinghua makes a dismayed, faintly sick noise. 

“Nothing much,” Shen Qingqiu says vaguely, trying to pull Luo Binghe along. Luo Binghe has stopped walking though, gaze now fixed on those familiar, delicate earrings. 

“I thought you didn’t like them!” he says, more a demand than a question. 

Liu Qingge doesn’t quite meet his gaze. Mobei-jun’s black claws twist the other earring into the new hole in Liu Qingge’s right ear. 

“I like them fine,” Liu Qingge says. “Earrings are bad in a fight.” 

“But—” Luo Binghe says, blinking at him while Liu Qingge presses a handkerchief to each of his earlobes to wipe away any stray blood. 

Liu Qingge looks away completely. It is because Luo Binghe is looking so intently at his earrings in Liu Qingge’s ears that he sees the way the skin around his ears goes slightly pink. 

“Just don’t let anyone grab them when we fight together. It’ll be fine,” Liu Qingge says. 

Flummoxed, Luo Binghe barely notices Shen Qingqiu poorly hiding a small smile behind his fan. 

4. Compliments

Luo Binghe comes and sits next to Liu Qingge in perfect silence for a full shichen. Liu Qingge takes Cheng Luan from its sheath to care for the blade and Luo Binghe wordlessly passes him a bottle of high quality sword oil. Liu Qingge cleans Cheng Luan, then takes Zheng Yang from Luo Binghe and cleans and polishes it with the same methodical precision. Neither of them speak. Luo Binghe picks out a book to read. 

When Liu Qingge leaves, he brushes their arms together before heading off back to Bai Zhan. 

5. Food

Suddenly, after months of slow progress, Luo Binghe feels like he has his feet under him with Liu Qingge. They fight together, they spend quiet evenings together. Liu Qingge wears the jewellery Luo Binghe gave him, and Luo Binghe even gifts him a few other small things that better suit his taste; a rare demonic sharpening stone for his weapons, a practical silver and leather guan, a qiankun pouch reinforced to reduce damage to the spelled weaving. In return Liu Qingge begins giving him small gifts, too; sometimes items, like a lovely white-jade belt tassel, but more often little favours or kind gestures, like taking care of his weapons or treating his wounds after a spar. 

Nearly a year after Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu decided to see if they might be able to make a relationship including Liu Qingge work, they gather at the bamboo house on the second night of the Spring festival to watch some junior disciples set off firecrackers. 

Luo Binghe bundles them all up on the porch under blankets, a pot of tea kept warming on a brazier, and peels slices of orange to pass around between them. Shen Qingqiu, nose a little pink from an early spring chill, laughs brightly and kisses Luo Binghe’s cheek to the sound of children cheering and sparklers crackling. Around zi hour Shen Qingqiu heats a bottle of Zui Xian liquor for them as well and they take turns taking sips from the same small glass, leaning together and whispering like the children they are theoretically watching over until Shen Qingqiu falls asleep in Luo Binghe’s lap. Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge exchange a soft look as Shen Qingqiu starts to snore. 

“Inside?” Liu Qingge asks, and Luo Binghe lifts his husband up in his arms without waking him as Liu Qingge gets the door. Luo Binghe carries him into their bedroom and Liu Qingge pulls back the blankets for Luo Binghe to slide Shen Qingqiu neatly under. 

They both stand beside the bed for a moment. Luo Binghe looks down at Shen Qingqiu’s sleeping face, feeling the planes of his cheeks and jaw and the soft noises from his stuffy nose burn themselves into his heart. He is so lucky to be with this person. He is lucky every day. 

When he looks up, he finds his own thoughts mirrored on Liu Qingge’s face.

Liu Qingge startles and flushes darkly at being caught looking. He shakes himself and turns way. 

“I should go.” 

Luo Binghe reaches out before he can think about it, catching Liu Qingge’s wrist. 

“Stay.” 

He does. 

——

In the morning, Luo Binghe makes fluffy white congee. He prepares three bowls, drizzles each with just the right amount of sesame oil, carefully lays shredded ginger and chicken and spring onions on top. 

He places a bowl in front of each of them and pours the tea. Shen Qingqiu, still sleep mussed, closes his eyes and hums in pleasure as he eats the first spoonful. 

Liu Qingge, hair down, dressed in only his inner layers from a night sharing the space with them, swirls his spoon around in the bowl and doesn’t eat. 

——

“—ave no idea the kind of shit these women keep pulling, Gua-xiong. I mean, seriously, I know they’re all vying for the position of queen of the north, but why does that mean all of them are my problem?” 

Luo Binghe enters the bamboo house to the sound of loud complaining. He sighs. It is truly a shame that the price of his husband’s love is letting Mobei-jun’s weird little advisor invade his home. 

He steps into the receiving room to find Shang Qinghua sprawled over several cushions while Shen Qingqiu sits neatly beside him, languidly waving his fan and sipping tea. 

“It’s not like Mobei-jun is going to listen to me! He doesn’t listen to anyone! Last time one of the counsellors told him to ‘just pick someone’ he asked for their top three picks and then killed them! It’s a fucking bloodbath, bro.” 

“Mhmm,” Shen Qingqiu says. When Luo Binghe enters, his face softens in a light smile. “Binghe, how were your students today?” 

“This one doesn’t have students,” Luo Binghe says. “This one has menaces he looks after for Shizun. They did acceptably on the test.” 

“That’s good to hear.” 

“Will Shishu be staying for dinner?” Luo Binghe asks reluctantly. 

“If Binghe doesn’t mind,” Shen Qingqiu says, cutting Shang Qinghua a dry look. On the floor, Shang Qinghua groans. 

Luo Binghe prepares noodle soup and spicy beef for them. Shang Qinghua may not be his favourite martial uncle or his favourite advisor, but he can at least avoid kicking a man while he’s down. He prepares a number of small side dishes to go with it, caught up in the easy process of cooking, trying out small portions of a few new recipes to soft-launch with his Shizun and Shishu. When he brings them out, night has fallen and Shang Qinghua appears to be in better spirits, arguing about some book or another with Shen Qingqiu. 

Luo Binghe sets out the dishes and settles into his seat to eat. There is companionable silence as they all dig in, until Shen Qingqiu frowns at Shang Qinghua. 

“Are you okay?” 

Luo Binghe glances up, surprised, to see Shang Qinghua frowning and playing with a noodle. 

“Augh, yeah,” Shang Qinghua says, running a hand over his face. “Do you want this? I’m just having sort of a weird food day.” 

“Sure,” Shen Qingqiu agrees, stealing Shang Qinghua’s bowl and scraping the noodles into his own before passing it back. “Is there anything you want?” 

“I might just like, steal some sauce from the meat and some sides. It’s no big deal.” 

Shen Qingqiu hums and returns to his own meal, but Luo Binghe finds himself focused intently on Shang Qinghua as the An Ding Peak Lord pokes at the dishes. He avoids any of the fresh vegetables or anything sweet, instead taking a few pickled vegetables, the spicy sauce, and some rice and eating those with every appearance of appreciation. 

Luo Binghe narrows his eyes. 

——

Instead of cooking for Liu Qingge, Luo Binghe determines what times the man eats and makes a point of either inserting himself or hiding nearby to observe.

Shen Qingqiu calls this ‘stalkerish’ and ‘a bit much, Binghe.’ Luo Binghe disagrees. 

What he determines is this: 

Liu Qingge mostly makes his own food. He cooks at all times like a man hunting for his own food in the wilderness, even when he’s just preparing things in the normal kitchen that his home on Bai Zhan Peak has. He eats raw vegetables. He eats fish, roasted to be just fully cooked over the fire. On their hunts together he eats nuts and dried meat and gives every appearance of enjoying them. He rarely eats dried fruit, and never eats berries. 

When Liu Qingge is over at the bamboo house around meal time, Luo Binghe makes an assortment of simple finger foods, each prepared differently, and lays them out on the table. Then, he settles back to watch what Liu Qingge chooses. Like this, he learns that the man dislikes anything with too much oil. He avoids anything that is noticeably soggy, wet, or spongey. He seems to like ginger but not strong spices or peppers. The things he does eat are either soft, creamy, or crunchy, and have mild flavours. 

At their next meal together, Luo Binghe is prepared. He cooks salmon over a hot fire, slathers it in beaten eggs and mild spices, and serves it over rice. He prepares a few of his usual side dishes that Shen Qingqiu will like, but adds in a bowl of plain, unseasoned sliced vegetables. 

For the first time, Liu Qingge stays and eats for the entire meal. 

Luo Binghe is over the moon. Elated. Now that he has found an opening in the man’s impenetrable dislike of his cooking, he throws himself into learning Liu Qingge’s tastes whole-heartedly. Now at every meal he makes sure to serve a variety of dishes that suit both his husband’s and Liu Qingge’s palette; his usual culinary flare tempered by milder, plainer dishes. 

Over time not only does Liu Qingge begin to eat more, to come by for more meals, he also begins to try the sort of things that he’d once only picked at or ignored. Luo Binghe observes carefully and adds dishes into his rotation that Liu Qingge enjoys, tweaking the recipes and watching to see the results. It’s a rewarding challenge in its own way, quite different from how he feels cooking for Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu loves whatever he makes, and likes to try lots of different foods. Liu Qingge likes to eat the same few things, and is quite picky about what they are. Luo Binghe enjoys balancing their differences on the table. 

One morning they gather at the bamboo house before a hunt. Shen Qingqiu identified an extremely rare Bluebell Owlhare in a forest not far from the sect that is rumoured to grant treasures to any who can strike it, so the three of them plan to take several days to track it down. 

Luo Binghe makes a pitcher of fresh soy milk for them to share before the journey. For Shen Qingqiu he fries youtiao, and has the pleasure of watching cooking oil smear across his husband’s lips when he bites into the pastry and groans. 

Liu Qingge makes a slightly tight expression at the sight of the friend dough. Grinning, Luo Binghe brings over a second tray with a covered plate. 

“Here, Qingge. This one believes you’ll like this dish.” 

Liu Qingge squints suspiciously at him, but Luo Binghe thinks it is a sign of how far they’ve come when he uncovers the plate to find an unusual, lumpy looking porridge there. 

“What is it?” Liu Qingge asks, but he’s already dipping his spoon into it. 

“Barley porridge.” Luo Binghe leans over to pour some of the soymilk overtop, then drops in a handful of chopped nuts. Liu Qingge blinks and takes a bite. 

Luo Binghe has the immense satisfaction of seeing his eyes widen as he takes a bite, quickly followed by another. 

“Good?” Luo Binghe asks. 

“Mn,” Liu Qingge says. His cheeks are dusted with pink.

——

Luo Binghe stands over the sink with his hair pinned back and his sleeves tied up, hands submerged in hot water as he scrubs the dishes from breakfast. When he hears soft breathing and the quiet pad of footsteps, he knows at once that it is not Shen Qingqiu come to cluck at him for cleaning when he cooked. 

“Hey,” Liu Qingge says, coming to stand beside him. 

“Hey,” Luo Binghe says. He hides a smile down at the soap suds before peering over at the wayward Bai Zhan War God. 

Liu Qingge’s hair is braided, with that touch that tells Luo Binghe Shen Qingqiu did it for him. His face is unlined, relaxed, his shoulders loose and his robes clean. It’s a nice way to see him. 

“Thank you, for cooking for me,” Liu Qingge says. “No one has ever done that before.” 

“It’s my pleasure,” Luo Binghe says. He pauses, looks down at the dish brush in his hands. Clawed fingers, sword calluses. The remnants of a good meal eaten. “I mean that. It is a pleasure for me, to be able to cook for you.” 

Liu Qingge leans forward and, carefully, kisses the corner of Luo Binghe’s mouth. His lips are soft against Luo Binghe’s heat-flushed skin. He is shorter than Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu both, so when he pulls away and looks up Luo Binghe receives the full brunt of his dark lashes and darker eyes. 

“Thanks,” Liu Qingge says. “It’s nice.”