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Mobei Jun’s ears perk up at the knock on Shang Qinghua’s office door.
“Lord Shang, here are the—oh! Your Highness, you’re back!” the newcomer says, bowing in his direction where Mobei Jun lies on the chaise lounge by the windows. “Apologies for the intrusion. This servant is just here to drop some documents.”
It’s one of Shang Qinghua’s palace assistants. Mobei Jun makes a vague go-ahead gesture before going back to his idle slumber.
"May this one just say, the palace is glad of our king's return. It has been too quiet without Lord Shang's singing."
Mobei Jun frowns at that. How had it been too quiet in the palace without him? Shang Qinghua is one of the loudest people he knows.
Shang Qinghua enters before Mobei Jun could inquire.
“Ah, Assistant Shin! Good, you’re here. Where are the—oh, my king!” Shang Qinghua’s all-business tone shifts to one of delight. “You’re back! Since when? Did the hunt end early? I thought you wouldn’t be back until next week! Why didn’t you tell me?”
Mobei Jun just shrugs. “Wanted to surprise Qinghua.”
Shang Qinghua smiles and proceeds to babble on about everything and anything, fussing over Mobei Jun, who indulgently listens and completely forgets about his initial inquiry.
Assistant Shin quietly and diligently arranged the document on Shang Qinghua’s desk before silently exiting with a fond smile.
Curiously, the same thing happens when Mobei Jun is lounging on Shang Qinghua’s leisure house as he waits for the peak lord’s meetings to conclude for the day.
Shang Qinghua’s head disciple enters with a stack of scrolls. She carefully sets them atop her shifu’s desk and then, at the sight of Mobei Jun on the daybed by the open balcony doors, lets out an offhand remark of, “Oh, good. His Highness is here now.”
Mobei Jun has long gotten used to the casual regard Shang Qinghua’s brats seem to have of him and merely rolls his eyes.
“It’s nice to have His Highness back,” Li Qiaolian, Shang Qinghua’s head disciple, continues. “Shifu tends to be in a good mood whenever you’re around. I don’t think we could have taken another week of silence. It’s so boring when he’s quiet.”
That remark again, of Shang Qinghua being quiet, when Mobei Jun has never known him to be. Most of the time, and especially when he gets going and finds himself on a roll about something or other, it’s a chore and a half to even have him shut up for a quarter of a shichen, not that Mobei Jun would ever want him to.
“What does that mean?” Mobei Jun finally asks. “Why has Shang Qinghua been quiet? Did something happen?”
“Hm?” Li Qiaolian hums and regards him lightly. “Oh, no. Nothing happened. Why would His Highness ask that?” And then, the An Ding head disciple’s face darkens menacingly. “Did something happen to shifu in the North?”
“Of course not,” Mobei Jun scoffs. The An Ding brats’ overprotectiveness of their shifu. It’s adorable and a whole lot unnecessary. As if he would let anything bad happen to Shang Qinghua in the North. Besides, the demon is pretty sure the palace attendants and all its inhabitants like and fear Shang Qinghua in equal measure more than they do him.
“Then what is with the question?”
“It is unusual for Qinghua to be quiet.”
Mobei Jun would know if Shang Qinghua is hurt or in trouble in any way, even if he is not around. If nothing is wrong with Shang Qinghua, then why does everyone keep on remarking that he’s been quiet while Mobei Jun was away?
“He’s just like that when you’re not around,” the An Ding head disciple says. “He’s not as chatty even with Shen-shibo, and he doesn’t hum or sing his silly little songs. His Highness knows the ones.”
Mobei Jun hums. He often hears Shang Qinghua sing unfamiliar tunes whenever he’s immersed in his work.
“Why is that?”
“Beats me,” Li Qiaolian shrugs, but Mobei spies her knowing smile. “Why indeed? Maybe shifu likes having His Highness around, though reasons as to why elude this disciple.”
“We are engaged to be wed.”
“Yet another thing that eludes this humble disciple.”
Before Mobei Jun can flick flurries of snow at An Ding’s insolent head disciple, a grumbling Shang Qinghua comes through the door.
“Aish!” Shang Qinghua exclaims when he sees his desk. “More work, Xiao Lian?” His voice peters out into a whine.
“‘Fraid so,” Li Qiaolian says, apologetically. “Sorry, Shifu. I’ll bring you and His Highness snacks and drinks though, okay?”
“Fine, fine. Bring the—oh, my king is here?” Shang Qinghua walks further into the room and finally sees Mobei Jun. “Ah, my king! I’m sorry. Did you wait long?”
“Not at all.”
“What can this Qinghua do for you?”
“Nothing.”
“Hm, I’m not due to return to the palace yet, not for another two days at least, and you’ll have to set out for the Western tribes by tomorrow if I remember correctly,” Shang Qinghua muses. “Just a quick visit then?”
Mobei Jun just shrugs. It’s not like he needs a reason to drop by his beloved regardless of their schedule. Even so, all the more for him to drop by if they will not be seeing each other for a while.
“He’s just here to hang out, Shifu!” Li Qiaolian helpfully calls on her way out.
Shang Qinghua eyes his stack of paperwork before turning back to Mobei Jun.
“Ah. Ehe. I have a lot of work to do as my king can see. I’m afraid this Qinghua will make for poor company.”
“That is fine. Qinghua can just do what he has to do.”
“Alright.”
Shang Qinghua sets out to work, reading over the scrolls and stacks of papers, taking notes and signing what needs to be, while Mobei Jun continues to lounge, periodically dozing off and occasionally picking up one of the peak lord’s reading materials to pass the time. They exist as they are, and it’s nice. Comfortable.
Before long, Shang Qinghua starts to be immersed in his work, and with it comes the singing. Mobei Jun’s ears perked at the catchy tune, but unfamiliar words.
“Qinghua.”
“Hm? Yes, my king?”
Shang Qinghua tends to be quiet when Mobei Jun is away. He does not sing. He does not hum. He only does when Mobei Jun is around.
“Qinghua likes having me around.”
“Of course, I do,” Shang Qinghua says, giving him a funny look. “I wouldn’t have agreed to marry you otherwise.”
“But you are busy.”
“And? That has never stopped you from bothering me before,” Shang Qinghua replies, teasing. “I like your company. Besides, there’s no one else I’d rather be around, no matter the state I’m in or what I’m doing.”
His words send something warm straight to Mobei Jun’s chest, making him almost giddy, and he huffs, “I see.”
“My king?”
“Nothing. Carry on.”
Shang Qinghua starts to hum again, and Mobei Jun basks in the sound, content in knowing he is wanted.