Work Text:
The thing about writing your ideal type into your own shitty, two-bit odyssey of a webnovel is: you never expect to confront her in real-life.
Honestly, the whole waking-up-in-your-own-novel thing was never exactly on Shang Qinghua’s mind when she wrote it in the first place. She didn’t stop and think - oh, I should make some contingencies, just in case I get trapped in a hellscape of my own making! She wasn’t that unhinged yet, and her particular brand of sleep-deprived decision-making leant more towards…. er, accidentally causing her own demise via a string of bad decisions. She tries not to think about that.
The point of the matter - the crux of the thing, really - is that, when faced with a creative outlet to her own tragic love-life, she will pour every failed relationship directly into it. Her single middle-school girlfriend, every unattainable crush on a girl who was straight or taken or both, that one barista who sneered at her coffee order… They all get poured into one character.
That, of course, is how Mobei-jun was born. Through a series of benders fuelled by energy drinks and her own sexual frustration, Shang Qinghua creates the perfect - well, her perfect - woman. Steadfast, tall, elegant, gorgeous, ruthless, bitchy, giant tits - what else could someone want in a woman! Her own personal Galataea, crammed into the sidelines of her awful little reverse-harem novel, just for her and no one else! While Luo Binghe, the gorgeous ruler of the two realms, jumps from man to man, Mobei-jun remains as her faithful companion, stalwart and icy and not competing for the men at all.
This is, primarily, because the drafts of PIDW contain the dregs of a scrapped unrequited love plot. Completely and uselessly in love with Luo Binghe, to never have it returned, content to live her days by her rulers side… god, who wouldn’t want a woman like that! And yes, okay, Qinghua feels bad to put her ideal woman through eternal suffering, but Mobei-jun…. Mobei-jun is for her! The readers can have Luo Binghe and her boys of the week! Mobei-jun belongs to Shang Qinghua, okay! That gorgeous, spiteful bitch was made for Shang Qinghua’s lonely nights, her lurid fantasies. No one else could have her!
Shit, where was she going with this again? Oh, yeah. The issue with all of this - she never thought she’d have to confront Mobei-jun in real life.
It’s one thing fantasising about your hot, mean, pseudo-girlfriend. Mobei-jun is every hopeless crush on a mean girl who’ll never remember Qinghua’s name, okay! Traits from her high school bully, that one situationship, hell, even that bitchy commenter on her own webnovel, all rolled up into one. And it’s one thing, okay, it’s one thing thinking about it in your gay little mind, thinking about being pushed against a wall by the mean girl with perfect hair who calls you names. It’s a whole other fucking story when it’s really happening.
In this universe - like, she suspects, most other universes - Shang Qinghua finds herself tumbling headfirst into her own webnovel, into Mobei-jun’s life, and tragically, into her own too-long too-complicated plot. Qinghua has to go through everything again - her shitty family, her fucking transition, getting bullied, all that sweet stuff. On top of that is this weird servitude to a hot-ass demoness who, apparently, cannot stand her-
Which is exactly the thing Qinghua likes, by the way! I mean, fuck , she’s basically caused her own destruction here! The ultimate hot mean girl! Up close and personal! All the time! Which means - and hold onto your pants for this one - she’s trapped herself into the worst situationship of all time!
Shang Qinghua sighs, trying to shift from underneath what is essentially a seven-foot snow leopard with ice-cold limbs. She’s on An Ding Peak, trying to get some work done with only one free arm. It’s hard, when her Queen’s face is right there in her lap - serene, erring on the side of harsh. Mobei-jun is strong-jawed and angular, the kind of woman who can maintain a resting bitchface even through a nap. Her lashes, long and dark, cast a shadow down her strong nose. It’s a struggle for Qinghua to focus on writing, to keep herself from dragging a hand through her queen’s pitch-black river of hair.
Here’s the thing. When Qinghua met Mobei-jun, she hadn’t quite been prepared for how handsy the woman would be. Even in the early days when handsy meant being kicked around and manhandled, Mobei-jun was tactile . When Mobei-jun was young, and expressed her feelings through violence, she’d been… well, affectionate was the wrong word, it would denote some semblance of care. Rather, it felt like she couldn’t go an interaction without laying a hand on Qinghua in some way. She always stood barely an inch away, the coldness radiating off her body and seeping into Qinghua’s skin. There was a sense of ownership, almost - a claim, maybe?
They’ve been through a lot together, the two of them. Mobei-jun had eventually stopped kicking her around and started manhandling her more. No matter the time or place, Mobei-jun will drag Qinghua around by gripping the fleshy part of her waist, the soft of her arm, and once (terrifyingly) the squishy part of her thigh. In front of her advisors, royalty, you name it - a silent “this is my servant, and you can’t touch her!”. If she had to read into it - and she definitely tries not to - Qinghua would place herself as the trust-companion’s-trusty-companion. Mobei-jun was unsocialised, and a demon no less - of course she’d express herself… differently.
These days (with her black-powder fan having married her protagonist, and her queen having taken control of the north, and most things having calmed down) Shang Qinghua spent more time in the demon realm than her own house. If she does try to get work done on An Ding, Mobei-jun is guaranteed to show up within a few hours. She’s learned to wear a full set of robes in her leisure house, thanks to the single time Mobei-jun teleported in while she was only wearing her undergarments. And even if she tries to get her work done Mobei-jun will trap her, use her as a pillow for century-long naps.
Shang Qinghua’s leisure house alone is littered with items Mobei-jun has left behind - paperwork that should probably be top-secret, a litany of hair pins, even one of her old fur-lined cloaks Qinghua has taken to snuggling with in winter. Qinghua has no room in the Northern Palace, only drawers full of her stuff in Mobei-jun’s own suite! It’s like they’re enmeshed, practically living out of each other’s pockets.
If Mobei-jun has a banquet, Shang Qinghua is there. If Mobei-jun wants to go hunting, Shang Qinghua is there. If Mobei-jun so much as wants to take a nap, Shang Qinghua has to be there underneath her, like a squishy little heat-pack.
…Shang Qinghua has created a demon with attachment issues!!!
Shang Qinghua thinks, when she wrote demons in her original novel, that she probably did make them so clingy. The men she had Luo Binghe tumble with always followed her after, wanted more, tried to stay safely in her pocket. Mobei-jun, originally, was always by Luo Binghe’s side too - but that’s different! She was in love with Luo Binghe! So maybe, when she’d been lonely with nothing but a body pillow to keep her comfort, that she’d subconsciously written this level of attachment in. Sue her for wanting companionship, okay!
Her shifting awakens her Queen, who slates her a devastatingly judgemental look with just one open eye. A light sunburn graces the highest point of her cheek, her skin still not quite used to the heat of An Ding in the summer. It’ll be gone by nightfall, healed up quickly thanks to her demonic healing process. Even with the light rash, she’s an absolute specimen, the kind of beautiful artists would try and fail their whole lives to capture.
“You’re moving too much,” Mobei-jun grumbles. Curse deep-voiced women, for being so sexy. Curse Mobei-jun, too, for being so needy.
“I’m working, my queen,” Qinghua answers, brandishing her brush. It’s a useless motion that fools no one - she’s been staring at Mobei-jun so long the ink has fully dried.
As if sensing this, Mobei-jun raises a single eyebrow. It’s devastating. Instead of commenting, she just snorts softly, pushing Qinghua down until she’s horizontal as well.
“More comfortable,” is Mobei-jun’s only explanation, as she lays her head on Qinghua’s soft stomach, strong body pinning the rest of Qinghua down. Like a large cat, who cares not for the worries of her owner, Mobei-jun goes back to sleep.
Shang Qinghua is still thinking about all of this by the evening, as she sits in an ornate chair beside Mobei-jun’s in the banquet hall. Beside her, Mobei-jun picks at her food with her long, black-tipped claws, looking as proud and cold as ever.
…ahh, Shang Qinghua really did a good job when she created Mobei-jun. The prominent arch of her nose, the bone-white of her skin contrasted with her thick, dark hair, the blue mark pulsing on her forehead. Every part of Mobei-jun broadcasted danger, down to the sharpened tips of her teeth and the points of her ears.
As if feeling Shang Qinghua’s staring, Mobei-jun slates her gaze down, pinning Shang Qinghua with her unreadable icy-blue eyes. She makes a low, confused noise in the back of her throat.
“Is the food not to your liking?” she says. When Mobei-jun speaks, her voice thrums with power - she doesn’t have to project, or raise her voice, to be heard. She’s captivating, even when she isn’t trying.
Shang Qinghua flounders instantly in response. “Ah, my queen- it’s fine! I'm just thinking!”
That’s another thing - the cooking!!! Since Shang Qinghua had hit her and asked for noodles, Mobei-jun’s been giving her little personalised meals! Just her! God knows who even taught that woman to cook!
“Are you feeling unwell?” Mobei-jun continues. “Would you like to return to our chambers?”
….of course, since Shang Qinghua still has no room in the northern kingdom, she’s been bunking with Mobei-jun!!! In Mobei-jun’s bed!!! All wrapped up in fifty thousand blankets to withstand the demon ice pack next to her!!!
With all the attention, and the closeness… It's so easy to jump to conclusions. But Shang Qinghua knows women. She's jumped to conclusions with women before. Her mind is plagued by embarrassing assumptions she’s made in the past. Mobei-jun - the woman who was created to be unattainable - this couldn’t be-
Because Shang Qinghua - the Shang Qinghua of before, and this second life now - is nothing to gawk at. She’s lived most of her life as boring, unspecial, with a relatively forgettable face and a body that never quite fit. She is, by all means, a side character in her own life. A round face, below-average height, scruffy hair she never learned to take care of. Even her personality - if Shen Yuan had anything to say about it - was annoying at best and slimy at worst. “Like a used car salesman,” were the words Yuan’er had chosen to use.
It’s not all bad. Her aura has come in handy in this universe, gotten her to where she is. She will continue to use that used-car-salesman persona to help her queen thrive, thank you very much!
“My queen, is this banquet not important?” Shang Qinghua babbles. “The southeastern clan - would that not be detrimental to the trade agreement?”
Mobei-jun assesses her with her eyes and hums again. “Deal with it, then.”
Shang Qinghua chokes back a short laugh, which has Mobei-jun quirking her lips. She finds it in herself to eat.
The banquet itself is… fine. They’re negotiating sanctions with the southeastern tribe, who offer their lumber and materials in exchange for military support. The leader of the clan is a young, amicable man, who had been pushed down by Luo Binghe in the original PIDW thanks to…. well, pollen.
She can’t remember which pollen. At the end of the day, pollen is pollen.
It was probably a good thing Qinghua doesn’t remember the bulk of her own novel - a testament to her shitty memory and excellent crisis management skills. With the entire plot of Proud Immortal Demon Way thrown out of whack, it’s way easier to navigate a situation when you don’t recall how it was supposed to go. Not bogged down by abandoned plot threads, and all that.
Shang Qinghua had spent the last week or so helping Mobei-jun with the trade agreements, sitting in on meetings and trying to find the best outcome for her queen. The southeastern leader - called Xiao-yin affectionately by his subordinates - had seemingly taken a liking to Shang Qinghua.
Though not quite as tall as Mobei-jun, Xiao-yin towered over Shang Qinghua. Like the other southeastern demons, his eyes were uncomfortably large, adapted for their nocturnal lifestyle. Compared to Mobei-jun’s bulky, thick shape - made for surviving cold winters - Xiao-yin was lithe and lanky, made for camouflage in the deep of night. Like each new demon race Qinghua met, the southeastern demons were just slightly inhuman, unsettling until she had time to adjust to their uncanny appearances.
It was not infrequent that some warring demon took interest in the sole human in a way that made Shang Qinghua feel like she was being sized up for a meal. Sometimes it seemed that the demons had simply never met a human before, and didn’t quite know what to make of them. Their peculiar interest and intense nature often made interactions… very uncomfortable. It usually amounted to nothing - and most of the time, Mobei-jun seems to notice Shang Qinghua hiding behind her from any too-curious demons and intuitively scares them off.
Some, like this Xiao-yin, seem to be rather persistent.
Three times this evening alone, the young leader tries to lean over Mobei-jun to start a conversation with Shang Qinghua. Each time, Mobei-jun follows his movement to block his view, offering Shang Qinghua more wine or openly feeding her muah chee. Xiao-yin only laughs gamely and attempts to drag someone else into conversation.
Shang Qinghua revels in the attention. Hey, it’ll amount to nothing, but it still feels great to have a hot demoness fawning over you! Plus, going along with it seems to calm the tension building in Mobei-jun’s shoulders. Every time Mobei-jun covers Xiao-yin with the thick curtain of her hair, Qinghua makes sure to tenderly pat her queen’s hand. She would hate to see her queen stressed!!!
The feast reaches its ending point. The courtiers from the southeastern clan begin giving their thanks - they are a nocturnal clan, living in the depths of a giant forest, and will be leaving during the night. Shang Qinghua is thankful, not for the first time, that the Northern clan keep relatively the same timezone as the cultivators do - goodness, imagine constantly changing hours every time she moved between her queen and her sect. What a nightmare!
It’s customary to offer the final round of parting gifts now, as the clan takes their leave. When Xiao-yin finally steps up to give his dues, a flurry of servants quickly follow after him, carrying what must be their offering.
Shang Qinghua examines it while the man talks. It seems to be a gigantic, spotted pelt - the Tusked Ash-Leopard, she guesses, a type of megafauna only found in that mega-forest she made the hell up one day. The silvery fur glitters in the evening light, lusciously oiled to enhance its natural appearance. It is, in fact, an ostentatious gift.
Mobei-jun assesses it and hums. It's a very bored hum. More of a humph, if you ask Qinghua. Mobei-jun clearly wants them to leave already.
“Your grace, such a generous gift!” Shang Qinghua rushes to say, lest Mobei-jun offend their guests. “My queen accepts warmly. And for our gift, we’ve prepared you-”
“If I may interrupt, we have no need for a gift,” Xiao-yin interrupts.
Shang Qinghua chokes. “Um-?? But we-”
“I have only one request from Queen Mo,” Xiao-yin continues. He smiles in a way that probably came across as charming to other demons, but felt vaguely threatening to Qinghua. “The most generous gift she could bestow upon us is the Advisor Shang.”
“...what,” Shang Qinghua says.
“I have seen that Advisor Shang is competent and intelligent,” Xiao-yin continues, “and rest assured I do not ask for her to join my service amongst my advisors; but rather that Advisor Shang might become my consort. We could make arrangements for her to visit, I'm sure. This is my only request.”
Shang Qinghua opens her mouth to argue, and shuts it again. She’d love to reject him flat out - she’s sure Mobei-jun might let her - but even without looking, she can feel waves of icy rage pouring off her queen.
“Clan leader yin,” Mobei-jun starts - and whoahhh, her voice has dropped to a growl, and if that isn’t hot - “I understand, in your little clan, you are revered. But you must be delusional to ask for the hand of my wife.”
Shang Qinghua chokes, as does Xiao-yin. The man seems to rapidly pale at his mistake, and he opens his mouth to fix it, but Mobei-jun keeps talking.
“Asking for possession of my wife is the gravest insult your clan could have made - the assumption both that I would ever allow Consort Shang to leave my line of sight, and that she would take your offer, is astounding. Our trade is off.”
Mobei-jun’s voice reverberates through the dining hall, chilling. When Qinghua looks over, she sees the ice-cold fury in Mobei-jun’s eyes. A furious Mobei-jun is like black ice - dangerous, murderous, unyielding. Her jaw is set tight, back straight and frozen, hair like an oil slick. Untouchable.
Not a single word could comfort her now, and Xiao-yin seems to realise this.
“But Lady Mo-”
Mobei-jun slashes a hand through the air, a low growl rumbling in the back of her throat.
“Leave now, before I raze you and the remainder of your clan to the ground.”
Xiao-yin shuts up and finally follows orders. The clan practically hightails out of the door. As they leave, Shang Qinghua sees Mobei-jun beckon her general closer; she has half a mind to warn Mobei-jun away from starting an unnecessary war, but she’s still stuck on the whole…. wife-thing.
…wife?
As her brain comes back online, Shang Qinghua realises Mobei-jun is holding her arm in an almost crushing grip, nails piercing into her skin. Wincing, Shang Qinghua blindly pets the hand, peeling it away; she uses the grip on Mobei-jun’s hand to lead her out of the hall and towards their chambers. Her queen follows silently, willingly letting Qinghua manhandle her for the first time in her life.
Mobei-jun, she realises, is shaking.
Shang Qinghua gets Mobei-jun seated on her bed. She takes off her outer layer, hopelessly trying to smooth her shoulders out. Then, she sits behind her to attack the complicated hairstyle Mobei-jun had been forced into for the event, methodically loosening the series of braids at the back. Under her useless petting, Mobei-jun’s back slowly melts, losing the tension it held before.
After a long moment, Mobei-jun speaks.
“...he deserved it.”
Shang Qinghua chokes a little bit. “I'm sure he did, my queen. it’s only-”
“Don’t tell me you wanted to go with him,” Mobei-jun snaps.
“Of course not, my queen! I just meant - you didn’t have to lie!”
Mobei-jun tenses. Shang Qinghua pauses mid-braid, wondering where she’d made the error.
“To ask for a member of your staff is- a grave injustice alone!” she babbles. “But you didn’t have to pretend we were married to humiliate him!”
There is a very long, frozen moment of silence. And then, slowly, Mobei-jun says: “...we are married.”
What.
“What?”
Mobei-jun twists to face Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua lets the hair slip from between her fingers, and Mobei-jun quickly takes Shang Qinghua’s now-empty hands into her own cold ones. They’re so much larger, Shang Qinghua thinks dumbly - and the black tipped nails would look great-
“We are married,” Mobei-jun says again. “You are my wife. We have been married under the laws of the Mo clan for over six moons.”
“Since when!” Shang Qinghua yelps. She racks her brain for any specific moment, and comes up empty.
“Since I ascended,” Mobei-jun says. “You did not know? I thought you were aware and just-”
Mobei-jun trails off. Shang Qinghua narrows her eyes and thinks about the last six months - the moping when Shang Qinghua took time off to go to an ding, the increasing amount of contact, scaring off suitors, the entire wardrobe of clothes-
“You thought I knew and didn’t want to-!!!” Shang Qinghua yells. She instantly grips Mobei-jun’s hands back and leans forward, determined to bully it into her any way possible. “My queen! of course I do! I thought you weren’t interested! I thought you saw me as a friend!”
Mobei-jun makes a face. “I do not hug my friends.”
Shang Qinghua chokes. “Wow, there’s so much to unpack there but that’s not important right now.”
God, all of this time - all of this time! Pining over someone she’d created from scraps of affection, destined to be unrequited once again - except!!! Except!!! The Frankenstein’s-monster of Shang Qinghua’s failed romantic endeavours actually likes her ! Has married her, willingly, with no begging! Every thought, every memory, comes rushing to the forefront of her mind -
But Mobei-jun, her queen, is still staring at her, confused and terrified. She’s rarely seen her queen this anxious - the tension in her shoulders, the set of her mouth. Her queen is still, somehow , waiting for some kind of rejection. Some Qinghua-esque backpedaling. As if she hasn’t already said - as if it isn’t obvious-
Shang Qinghua drops Mobei-jun’s hands and hurriedly tries to climb into her lap, pushing at her shoulders. “Quick - quick!!! I know now, so you should just-”
Mobei-jun pushes Shang Qinghua back onto her bed - because somehow, after years of sucking at love and romance, Shang Qinghua has managed to bag a hot ice-cold demon wife who actually wants her back.
(Their first time still sucks, because Mobei-jun is a stone top with talon-length nails, but they’ll work it out.)