Work Text:
Before he’d transmigrated, Shen Qingqiu had hardly ever dipped his toes into the colorful waters that were the creative arts. He was a consumer, never a doer; this really applied to all aspects of his previous life. The only times he’d drawn were when he was forced to while in school, and even then he half-assed the assignments.
However, post-transmigration and pre- Luo Binghe’s darkening, he had grown somewhat adept—at least in comparison—at the arts: Painting, sketching, calligraphy, guqin (and other various instruments), and, if you included it, the art of swordsmanship. Having no phone may have made Shen Qingqiu’s life slightly miserable for a few weeks, but picking up these hobbies replaced any negative feelings he had.
Although the past year had been hectic—dealing with Luo Binghe’s severely unstable state due to Xin Mo and everything that came with that—he was happy all the dust had settled and he could enjoy being idle yet again. When the disciples needed teaching he would occasionally go down, but most of the time Ming Fan had it covered, so Shen Qingqiu could laze about with his husband.
All of this idle time led him to pick up his paintbrush, and he had recently been painting some still-lifes. Cups of steaming tea on tables and wine-red wedding robes splayed over their bed. He painted the Demon Realm’s landscapes, including the recreation of the Bamboo House on Qing Jing Peak. He gifted all of these to Luo Binghe, as he had no use for them, and the man accepted them with tears coming to his eyes. They decorated the halls of the Underground Palace and they were tended-to daily by the demon servants.
On one beautiful afternoon, Shen Qingqiu was sitting in the middle of a clearing of bamboo, a napping Luo Binghe in his lap. Shen Qingqiu ran a hand down his back, feeling his chest rise up and down evenly, when the sun decided to peek from behind the clouds and shine upon the duo.
Though the bamboo made the sun’s rays spotty, they landed perfectly upon Luo Binghe’s head, making his beautiful curls catch the light in a way that took Shen Qingqiu’s breath away. Although he couldn’t see it, Shen Qingqiu was sure his face was perfectly highlighted by the light, his mouth slightly agape and lashes tickling his cheeks.
This sight brought upon the urge to paint the demon. Shen Qingqiu very carefully slipped his way from under Luo Binghe’s body, gently setting his head onto the grass into a similar position. He moved around the sleeping demon, and when he saw his face, his heart jolted.
Really, as expected of a protagonist, he was far too pretty for his own good.
“System, is there any way you can conjure up a canvas, some pigments, and a brush for me?” Shen Qingqiu asked, tone extremely hopeful. He wanted to capture the sight before him, immortalize it, so that he could look back on it every time he remembered the System’s punishment protocol. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes lingered on the half-sharp, half-rounded features of Luo Binghe’s face and the small blush coating his cheeks. His arms curled by his head, his hair billowing over his sleeping figure.
[ System can do that for User 002 if he pays the correct amount. ]
“And what’s the amount I have to pay?” Shen Qingqiu asked cautiously, worried that the System might try to scam him again.
[ 1,000 Satisfaction Points for all three items. Extra costs may apply depending on the amount of pigments you ask for. ]
The System being straightforward? It almost felt strange. Shen Qingqiu quickly agreed—he could easily farm Satisfaction Points by merely tapping Binghe with his fan—and the items appeared strewn about beside him in the grass. He quickly made sure Luo Binghe was still sleeping, and when he saw his breath continue at its even pace, he picked up the canvas and brush and set up his pigments.
Shen Qingqiu blocked out the basic colors first, making sure to get the perfect shade of green for the sun-coated bamboo. He added the shadows next, making sure to perfect the ones on Luo Binghe’s face. As he was adding the highlights, his tongue peeked out of his lips, his focus on getting the demon’s likeness captured in the painting causing him to forget himself.
As the sun gradually set, Shen Qingqiu finished his painting, adding small finishing touches here and there. He looked at the painting for a long while before turning his head back and glancing at Luo Binghe, comparing the two.
They looked pretty much the same, and Shen Qingqiu was quite happy with himself. He wasn’t useless after all! As he looked over the painting yet again, he felt that it was a wonder Binghe was able to stay still for so long. He put the painting down beside him so it could dry, collecting all of the painting items and putting them next to the canvas.
When he looked back over, a pair of bright, lively black eyes stared back at him before closing and returning to their previous positions. Shen Qingqiu raised a brow, a bit of shame flushing through his body.
“Binghe!” Shen Qingqiu exclaimed, snapping his fan open and covering his face with it. How embarrassing! To admire someone’s beauty so deeply that you would want to paint it! And the evidence was right next to the perpetrator. “Binghe, how long have you been awake…?”
Seeing that he was caught, Luo Binghe opened his eyes and dazedly sat up. He let out a yawn, canines catching the dimming sun, and Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but stare.
“This disciple has been awake since Shizun moved over there,” Luo Binghe said, tone honest. Shen Qingqiu didn’t know why he would have thought otherwise; of course, the husband could only get rest when sleeping in the wife’s lap. Shen Qingqiu still thought it was absurd that he was the wife in this relationship! Luo Binghe was too close to being a little maiden, how come he could be the husband?! “Shizun… can I see your painting?”
Shen Qingqiu felt a flush rise to his cheeks. Drawing still-lifes and landscapes was far different than capturing a person’s essence, and although he felt like he had nailed it, he was unsure how Luo Binghe might react. He glanced to his right, peering at the canvas, before picking it up and handing it over to the demon.
The demon’s eyes widened as he saw the art, awe swirling deep within those abysses. He held the painting like it was a precious treasure.
Binghe, you give this master too much credit! This master is not Leonardo Da Vinci, this master did not paint the Mona Lisa!!
Small pinpricks of tears started welling in Luo Binghe’s eyes.
“Shizun, your painting is beautiful,” Luo Binghe mumbled, bringing the canvas close to his face to admire each brush stroke. Of course it was beautiful, Binghe, your face is the center of it! “Does Shizun… really see this disciple this way?”
Fishing for compliments!
“Mn,” A short and simple response, but good enough for the demon. Shen Qingqiu stood up and walked back to Luo Binghe’s side, smiling as he felt a hand on his back, rubbing circles.
As the sun went down, Shen Qingqiu gave him one last kiss on the head before they tidied up and headed back home.
—
The canvas was regularly taken care of and kept in a pristine area, and Luo Binghe loved to look at it when Shen Qingqiu was away for business, to remind himself that Shen Qingqiu was his. Shen Qingqiu often looked at it as well, reminding himself that they had overcome all of the plot-line’s insanely traumatic events. Although Shen Qingqiu would no doubt be subjected to the various abandoned wife-plots of the original novel, he now felt safe.
“Baobei...” Shen Qingqiu muttered, voice uncharacteristically meek and slightly embarrassed at the nickname, yet resolute in what he was saying. He wasn’t prone to pet-names, but he decided to try it out this once. “Baobei, the painting is beautiful.”
Although Shen Qingqiu would never admit it out loud, Luo Binghe knew he was calling him beautiful. To say it in such a manner; it made Luo Binghe’s heart throb, even more so at the pet-name. He immediately buried Shen Qingqiu in a hug, placing numerous kisses upon his head and over his cheeks, leaving Shen Qingqiu’s face burning red.
Perhaps Shen Qingqiu ought to paint his husband more often.