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The evening unfolded beautifully, with laughter and lively conversations ringing as guests mingled, their voices blending into a joyful symphony. Above them, the sky was a stunning canvas, brushed with soft hues of pink and gold, creating a breathtaking backdrop for the special occasion. Colorful streamers adorned the venue, featuring elegant lettering proclaiming the couple's joyous union.
As the sun began to set, the final touches were meticulously applied to the outdoor scenery, enhancing the enchanting atmosphere. Delicate floral arrangements were positioned thoughtfully around the venue while the golden glow of the lamps twinkled in the gentle breeze. The scene was carefully curated to ensure that the couple not only enjoyed an incredible view but also experienced a wedding filled with magic and romance, setting the stage for a night to remember.
As Shen Qingqiu observed the couple preparing for their momentous day, he couldn't help but reflect on the fact that Shang Qinghua seemed to take an eternity to put on his wedding attire. The elaborate red and gold wedding robes were intricate, and adorned with fine embroidery and delicate embellishments that required careful handling. Yet, as he watched Ning Yingying and several other disciples from both Shang Qinghua's and his peak bustle around, assisting with the dressing process, Shen Qingqiu wondered if it truly needed to take so long. The atmosphere was lively and filled with laughter, and despite the initial time-consuming nature of the robes, it felt as though the collective effort of everyone involved would make short work of it. After all, was it vital for an occasion this important to drag on, or was Shang Qinghua just being a wuss?
Shen Qingqiu burst into the preparation room, his footsteps heavy with urgency as he scanned the space. His eyes fell upon a figure standing by the table, and his heart skipped a beat. It was Shang Qinghua—or at least, it resembled him closely. However, upon closer inspection, Qingqiu noticed a distinct mole on the left cheek of this Shang Qinghua, a feature he was certain the man did not have.
This detail, minor yet glaring, sent a shiver down his spine. The familiar figure was behaving in a manner far too accommodating, almost overly polite, a stark contrast to the Shang Qinghua he knew, who was typically a clumsy asshole that had a touch of sarcasm. The air in the room felt charged with an unspoken tension as Shen Qingqiu's instincts pricked at him, warning that something was not quite right.
"“Uhm… airplane-bro…” Shen Qingqiu attempted to maintain an air of nonchalance, trying to convince himself that the figure standing before him could not possibly be Shang Qinghua. He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the rising confusion as he observed the man.
The person before him remained static briefly, a look of bewilderment flickering across his features. Then, with a graceful motion, he inclined his head slightly in a respectful bow. “Hello, Shen Qingqiu,” he greeted, his voice smooth but somehow foreign.
The man—who was indeed not Shang Qinghua—was garbed in an elaborate robe of crimson and gold. The fabric was rich and luxurious, catching the light in a way that accentuated its deep hues. A wide gold sash wrapped snugly around his waist, emphasizing a trim figure, while the long, flowing sleeves of the robe cascaded elegantly down his arms. If they had been just a few inches longer, they would have swept the ground. Instead, they danced lightly in the air with every subtle movement he made.
As Shen Qingqiu's attention drifted to the intricate embroidery that adorned the sleeves and lining of the robe, he noted the striking designs of dragons woven in gold thread. The craftsmanship was exceptional, a testament to the wealth and status the garment implied. The back of the robe trailed along the floor behind him, its opulence only heightening Shen Qingqiu's sense of disquiet. This man exuded an elegance that was striking and out of place, leaving Shen Qingqiu with an unshakeable feeling that he was looking at someone entirely different—someone wearing the skin of Shang Qinghua, yet not completely getting it right. They had never been in the same room as Shang Qinghua, only witnessing his... customer service act.
That twink got kidnapped, didn't he.
Shen Qingqiu strode out of the room with purposeful haste, closing the door behind him with a soft click that echoed in the dimly lit hallway. Just as he stepped away, he felt a pair of warm arms encircle his waist, drawing him back with a suddenness that took him by surprise. Turning his head, Shen Qingqiu found himself face to face with Luo Binghe. The young man's expression was radiantly joyful—his bright eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and a beaming smile lighting up his features—as if he hadn’t just attempted to make out with him before this.
"Shizun! Shizun! I was looking for you! I—" Luo Binghe began, his voice bubbling with excitement, but before he could complete his thought, Shen Qingqiu gently but firmly placed his hands on Binghe's shoulders, their closeness momentarily grounding him amidst the chaos of his thoughts.
“There’s been a serious situation,” Shen Qingqiu announced abruptly, a sense of urgency coloring his usually calm demeanor. His brows furrowed deeply as he turned to face the others, the gravity of his words settling heavily in the air. “Qinghua has been kidnapped.”
Luo Binghe blinked in confusion, his mind racing to process the information. “But I just saw him in there a moment ago—”
“No. That’s another demon. An inhumane one at that,” Shen Qingqiu interrupted, his tone sharp and insistent. He could feel a wave of panic rising, and he swiftly stripped Luo Binghe's hands from around his waist, an action fueled by the instinct to act rather than linger.
With purpose, Shen Qingqiu stormed out of the building, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for Mobei-Jun, the formidable demon to whom Shang Qinghua was to be wed. He raced through the halls, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the tense silence until he burst into the room where Mobei-Jun, Sha Hualing, and several other demons were gathered.
He nearly slid through the doorframe in his haste, barely regaining his balance as he entered the dimly lit room. The atmosphere shifted instantly as he declared, “There’s an emergency.” The weight of his words filled the space, and without hesitation, Sha Hualing reached for a dagger hidden within the folds of her clothing, her expression transforming into one of determination.
“Okay, what is it?” she asked, her voice steady, but an edge of concern crept in.
Shen Qingqiu took a moment to steady himself, preparing for the reaction that was sure to follow. “Shang Qinghua has most likely been kidnapped.”
The mention of Qinghua’s name was like a spark igniting a fire. The demons, who had been seated, shot up at once, their voices rising in alarm and panic. Mobei-Jun's typically cold, calculating demeanor darkened further, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that sent a chill down Shen Qingqiu’s spine. Without a word, he vanished from the room, his incredible speed rendering him a mere blur—a testament to the power he wielded. Shang Qinghua made that man too OP.
The rest of the people inside the room ran out of it, Shen Qingqiu felt the air hit his face as they passed him.
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Shang Qinghua found himself seated in a grim, oppressive space, where the air felt thick with dampness and an unsettling sense of foreboding hung in the shadows. The dim light barely penetrated the darkness, casting eerie shapes that danced along the damp walls. His wrists and ankles were tightly bound with coarse rope, the fibers digging uncomfortably into his skin. He coughed softly, trying to clear his throat, but the musty air only aggravated his lungs.
"This place sucks," he said loudly, his voice echoing slightly in the silence, a faint attempt to break the stifling tension that surrounded him. Boredom clung to him like the moisture in the air, each passing moment stretching into eternity.
"SHUT UP!" A thunderous voice boomed from the depths of the darkness, reverberating off the walls and sending a shiver down Shang Qinghua's spine. This wasn’t the first time he had heard that command; he could sense the weariness in the tone as if the speaker had been driven to this edge of frustration more times than he could count.
Despite the fear gnawing at him, Shang Qinghua couldn’t bear to show any weakness, particularly in front of the person who had so callously kidnapped him. Instead, he sat there, fidgeting against his binds, and made a conscious effort to act as annoying as possible. Maybe if he pushed their patience far enough, he could provoke a reaction that would lead to an opportunity for escape. It was a desperate gamble, but in his current predicament, it was all he had.
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As the attendees of the wedding formed a wide circle, their murmurs of curiosity and amusement filled the air. In the center stood the bride's elaborate wedding robes, draped elegantly, yet they concealed something much more sinister beneath their flowing fabric. Emerging from the layers, a fierce demon revealed herself, with her dark horns spiraling menacingly around her face, adding an ominous touch to her already scowling features.
Sha Hualing crouched before the demon, her expression a mixture of mischief and annoyance. With a teasing glint in her eye, she began poking and playfully slapping at the demon's cheek, trying to elicit a reaction while the tension built around them. Yet amid the laughter and jests, the anticipated figure—Mobei-Jun—remained conspicuously absent, leaving everyone curious and slightly concerned.
The demon, who had been forced to shed Shang Qinghua’s guise, now stood exposed and vulnerable in front of the crowd. The atmosphere thickened with ridicule as onlookers pointed and laughed at the once-revered identity she had assumed. Even Shen Qingqiu, known for his generally composed demeanor, couldn't resist joining in the mockery. Standing with his fan poised thoughtfully against his chin, he glared down at the demon, his irritation evident as he pointedly conveyed his disapproval. The whole scene had turned from a joyous wedding celebration into a chaotic spectacle of humiliation.
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Shang Qinghua had been as talkative as ever, his incessant chatter wearing down the patience of his kidnappers bit by bit. They were becoming increasingly exasperated by his constant stream of words, which often strayed from mundane subjects to humorous anecdotes that seemed to irk them further. Eventually, in a moment of frustration, one of them decided to simply tape his mouth shut, effectively silencing him, before turning on their heel and walking away.
But their respite was short-lived. They hadn’t ventured far when an unexpected and chilling sound pierced the heavy silence of the night—a guttural scream emerged from the surrounding darkness, followed by the heart-wrenching sound of sobbing. The anguished cries seemed to echo through the shadows, enveloping the atmosphere in a thick blanket of dread. Within moments, however, everything fell eerily silent, leaving behind an unsettling stillness that made the air feel heavy with tension. Shang Qinghua waited with anticipation and worry.
The soft sound of footsteps echoed through the dimly lit room, growing louder until the source finally came into view. Emerging from the shadows was none other than Mobei-Jun, his commanding presence unmistakable. A speck of blood marred his cheek.
Shang Qinghua's eyes widened in recognition and excitement, flickering with a mixture of relief and admiration. "My king!" he exclaimed, his voice muffled but full of fervor.
Mobei-Jun let out a resigned sigh, feeling a familiar weight settle in his chest. He approached Shang Qinghua with purposeful strides, his expression a blend of concern and determination. Without hesitation, he reached out and swiftly began to remove the tape that bound Shang Qinghua, the rough material pulling at the tender skin and causing a pained whimper to escape his lips.
"Sorry," Mobei-Jun said, the word unfamiliar yet necessary as he tried to navigate the complexities of their relationship. It was a phrase he rarely uttered, but recent experiences had compelled him to make an effort—especially when it came to Shang Qinghua.
Mobei-Jun patiently worked to unravel the intricate robes that had tightly bound Shang Qinghua's ankles and wrists. With each careful tug, the restraints loosened, finally allowing Shang Qinghua to regain his balance and stand on his own. Just as he began to rise, however, Mobei-Jun swiftly grasped his hand, a look of determination in his eyes, and in the blink of an eye, they vanished from the confines of the disturbing setting.
When they reappeared, it was inside a modest yet elegantly appointed room, one that Shang Qinghua had anticipated as his dressing space. The air was filled with the faint scent of jasmine, and rays of soft sunlight filtered through delicate curtains, casting gentle patterns on the floor. Mobei-Jun glanced around briefly before closing the door behind them, ensuring that Shang Qinghua wouldn't catch a premature glimpse of the vibrant crowd gathered outside, waiting for the ceremony to begin. And so no one would catch a glimpse of the bride.
Shang Qinghua stood in the middle of the vibrant room, feeling a whirlwind of emotions as he tried to gather himself. The air was thick with unspoken tension when, without warning, Shen Qingqiu burst through the door, slamming it behind him with a resounding thud that echoed off the walls.
“Just what were you thinking?! How on earth did you end up getting yourself kidnapped?!” Shen Qingqiu’s voice was a mixture of frustration and sheer disbelief. He placed his hands firmly on his hips, adopting a stance that resembled a disappointed mother confronting her wayward child. It was a look that made Shang Qinghua feel both chided and oddly comforted.
Without missing a beat, Shen Qingqiu thrust a beautifully embroidered wedding robe into Shang Qinghua’s arms, the fabric soft and luxurious against his skin. “I got you a new one,” he declared, his expression softening slightly. “You owe me for all this trouble!” The urgency in his tone was palpable, underscoring the seriousness of the moment.
The rapid series of events left Shang Qinghua momentarily speechless; everything happened so quickly that he barely had time to process Shen Qingqiu’s words or express his gratitude. Just as quickly as he had entered, Shen Qingqiu spun on his heel and bolted back out of the room. The door swung shut with a loud click, leaving Shang Qinghua standing there, bewildered and clutching the wedding robe.
Why was everyone moving so fast today? It felt like he was caught in a dizzying dance, struggling to keep up with the whirlwind around him.
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The wedding was a breathtaking affair, set under a brilliant canopy of stars that twinkled like diamonds in the night sky. Brightly colored lanterns swayed gently in the warm breeze, and strings of fairy lights wrapped around trees and arches, casting a soft, magical glow over the celebration. Ethereal orbs of spiritual energy floated gracefully above the guests, adding to the enchanting atmosphere.
Shen Qingqiu found himself sitting beside Luo Binghe, the two of them sharing a slice of cake. The rich and decadent dessert melted in their mouths, a symbol of their shared joy amidst the revelry. As the music played, Shang Qinghua’s heart raced with both excitement and nervousness. He couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder as he observed Mobei-Jun twirling gracefully on the dance floor with Shang Qinghua. Their movements were fluid and synchronized, embodying the culmination of affection and partnership that had blossomed amidst the chaos of their lives. Other demons joined in, laughter filling the air, their carefree spirits creating an atmosphere of camaraderie and celebration.
However, the next day brought a wave of concern crashing down. Shen Qingqiu, ever the worrying fool, insisted that Shang Qinghua get a thorough check-up. His anxiety was palpable as he fretted over the well-being of his friends. Despite the joy of the previous night, the realities of their world crept back in. Ultimately, things began to settle back into a semblance of normalcy, but the shadows of the past loomed close. The memory of the copycat demon, who had unwittingly become a target in Sha Hualing’s brutal practice hunts, served as a grim reminder of the dangers they faced.
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Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu sat in the dark, illuminated only by a small tea light candle, the light showing off the dark circles under their eyes. They were eating the leftover wedding food.