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· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
Jiang Cheng does not like parties. It's the people overwhelm him, and silly and childish lesser clan leaders constantly trying to kiss his ass, whilst sizing each other up, trying to subtly send the message that they're better than the other. It's annoying. It's worse when he's the one hosting the damn party. All of them, every single one of them, huddle around him like moths to a flame, it's exhausting.
Which is why he's grateful for the small festivals in Lotus Pier, where it's just his people having fun, and going about their day. Sure, they may tense up when he's around, but that's because he's the sect leader. Everyone behaves when he's around. But this festival they're having, is not really a festival. It's a small celebration, in someone's honor. Now, Jiang Cheng hates those too. He doesn't mind hosting them and congratulating the person of the hour, but those people usually take it as an excuse to drink themselves silly and act like jerks.
But not this guy. The man has the face of a beauty, sharp and almond eyes with sharp features. His long black hair was tied up in a simple ponytail, with a small flick in front that Jiang Cheng would almost describe as teasing. To add to the illusion, he has a small mole under his eye, as if to complete the perfect look with an imperfect difference. A true beauty, Jiang Cheng has to admit, for he is not blind. But the man's sharp and beautiful features are misleading, because the frown on his face makes him an unapproachable beauty.
Jiang Cheng had heard of a major disturbance in the edge of Yunmeng and sought to investigate it himself, when lo and behold, stood this brute of a beauty. He was a white blur, moving quick and striking hard, leaving only dust, blood and a dead beast. The small village being terrorized was terrified (reasonably so), but they were also grateful. They thanked him and even offered gifts, but he rejected them with a frown. Now, seeing it was handled, Jiang Cheng had no reason to stay. The issue was solved, and he could go back to work. But the village didn't agree to that.
Apparently, this had been happening for a good while, and due to Jiang Cheng's 'negligence', the cultivator had to be troubled and deal with 'his' mistake. Now, being turned on like that was an uncomfortable position. Jiang Cheng's initial reaction was, of course, to argue. Negligence? His? He had half a mind to lash out, to remind these villagers of the difficulty of running an entire sect, of balancing countless duties while protecting ungrateful civilians. But he just crossed his arms, fingers drumming against his sleeves, barely restraining the urge to lash out. It wasn't as if he had ignored their complaints—he simply had bigger things to deal with, and that he hadn't gotten to their complains. His list of work was very long! But of course, no one ever acknowledged that.
And yet, the man standing in the center of it all, the very cultivator they were lavishing with praise, seemed just as irritated as Jiang Cheng himself. His frown deepened, his arms remaining folded inside the long, pristine sleeves of his robes. He looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else, and that, at least, was something Jiang Cheng could sympathize with. In the end, he had no choice but to give in. He knew that by trying to explain himself would be seen as an excuse, and not admitting responsibility, and frankly, that's a jar he doesn't want to open.
Jiang Cheng turned to him, scrutinizing him more closely now that the fight was over. The man was powerful—he'd seen that firsthand. His strikes had been clean, efficient. No wasted movement. A swordsman through and through, which he could admit was admirable. He had not done such flashy moves nor a long and complicated sequence to impress people, which means he is a direct man.
"You," Jiang Cheng said, his tone gruff. "Who are you?"
The man's gaze flickered toward him, dark eyes sharp and unreadable. "Liu Qingge," he said simply. His voice was deep, smooth, but edged with something restrained—perhaps irritation, perhaps exhaustion.
Jiang Cheng raised a brow. The name was familiar. Ah. The Bai Zhan Peak Lord of the Cang Qiong Sect. A man known for his strength and fierce swordsmanship. He'd heard rumors but had never had cause to meet him before.
"You're far from home," Jiang Cheng noted, eyes narrowing slightly.
Liu Qingge's lips pressed into a thinner line. "I was passing through. The beasts were in my way."
A practical answer. Jiang Cheng appreciated that. No embellishments, no false modesty. Still, despite their apparent similarities, the man irritated him. There was something about the way he stood there, arms crossed, posture rigid with disinterest, that made Jiang Cheng bristle. He seemed arrogant, which Jiang Cheng didn't like. He didn't like being ignored, especially not in his own territory.
"Since the villagers seem so insistent that I owe you something," Jiang Cheng said dryly, "Lotus Pier is hosting a small gathering tonight. You might as well attend. Consider it your reward for handling what should have been my problem."
Liu Qingge frowned at him, then huffed. "Not necessary."
Jiang Cheng scoffed. "I wasn't asking."
And so, against his better judgment—and against Liu Qingge's clear disinterest—Jiang Cheng found himself hosting a celebration in the other man's honor. And that's how it led to him standing on the side, drinking tea while the villagers were smiling and thanking Liu Qingge for his wonderful assistance. Honestly, it made Jiang Cheng want to whip out Zidian and show just how 'wonderful' Jiang Cheng could be. But he resisted. Of course, that would not solve anything. But it would be maddly satisfying though...
But still, he merely sat and drank his tea. Seeing that his presence wasn't needed, he excused himself and sat on a pavilion, underneath the stars and in perfect view of the Lotus filled lake. The cool night air did little to ease Jiang Cheng's irritation. He wasn't sure what irked him more—the way the villagers had all but forced this celebration upon him, or the fact that Liu Qingge sat through it with the same impassive expression, enduring it rather than enjoying it. As if he were merely tolerating their gratitude, rather than acknowledging it. That pissed him off.
Jiang Cheng sighed, rolling his shoulders as he took another sip of tea. He had planned to sit here in peace, away from the noise, away from the people. He had earned at least that much, hadn't he?
A shift in the pavilion's wooden planks alerted him to another's presence. He didn't need to turn to know who it was. The weight of that presence, the quiet yet assured footsteps—it could only be one person.
"You left your own party," Liu Qingge noted dryly. He didn't sit, merely stood a few paces away, arms still tucked into his sleeves.
Jiang Cheng scoffed. "It's not my party. It's yours."
Liu Qingge's gaze flicked toward the lake, eyes unreadable in the dim light. "I didn't ask for it."
"Neither did I," Jiang Cheng muttered, swirling his tea absently. "Yet here we are."
A brief silence settled between them, not quite comfortable, but not entirely tense either. It was a strange thing—Jiang Cheng wasn't used to sharing silence with others like this. Silence usually meant judgment, expectation, disapproval. But Liu Qingge didn't seem to be waiting for anything from him. He was just... there.
Jiang Cheng had heard of the Bai Zhan Peak Lord before, but their paths had never crossed. Now, up close, he understood why the man's reputation preceded him. He was an enigma of contradictions—a warrior with the face of a beauty, a man who carried himself with rigid discipline yet struck with unrelenting ferocity. Even now, as villagers eagerly offered him drinks and praise, Liu Qingge stood stiffly, his expression as impassive as stone.
Jiang Cheng understood the sentiment. After a moment, Liu Qingge exhaled, the closest thing to a sigh Jiang Cheng had heard from him. "You're a strange sect leader."
Jiang Cheng bristled, turning to glare at him. "Excuse me?"
Liu Qingge's lips barely twitched—if it could even be called a smile, it was the smallest, most fleeting thing Jiang Cheng had ever seen. "Most leaders would bask in praise. You look like you want to throw everyone into the lake."
Jiang Cheng scowled, crossing his arms. "Maybe I do."
"Hm." Liu Qingge finally moved, stepping forward to sit beside him, though he kept a respectable distance between them. "I don't like them either."
Jiang Cheng blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected admission. "What?"
"Parties. People. The useless noise." Liu Qingge glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "But the tea is decent."
Jiang Cheng snorted despite himself. "At least you have some taste."
"Hn." Liu Qingge looked around, expression flat. "Do you always let people push you around?"
Jiang Cheng bristled. "Excuse me?"
Liu Qingge met his glare without hesitation. "They guilted you into this. You don't seem like the type to yield so easily."
Jiang Cheng scoffed. "I have better things to do than argue with people who refuse to listen to reason." He crossed his arms, tilting his head as he regarded the other man. "And you? You didn't have to stay."
Liu Qingge exhaled through his nose. "It would have been impolite to leave."
Jiang Cheng barked out a laugh. "Oh, so you care about politeness now?"
A flicker of something—perhaps amusement, perhaps irritation—crossed Liu Qingge's face. "I was raised properly."
Jiang Cheng clicked his tongue, setting his teacup down on a nearby table. "Could have fooled me." Liu Qingge scoffs. Jiang Cheng glared at him but stayed quiet, stubbornly curious to what he's gonna do. Liu Qingge settled in, arms still crossed inside his sleeves, gaze fixed on the lake. It was strange. Jiang Cheng wasn't used to people sitting near him without some ulterior motive. Usually, if someone sought him out, it was to whine about something, or worse—try to win his favor. But Liu Qingge simply sat there, silent, as if the lake was more interesting than whatever nonsense was happening at the party.
Jiang Cheng found himself watching him from the corner of his eye. Up close, Liu Qingge looked even sharper, like a blade honed to perfection. His features, severe yet undeniably handsome, were unreadable. That unapproachable beauty still carried the same rigid air, but now, in the quiet, it felt less suffocating and more... solid. A presence that wasn't suffused with fake politeness or flowery words.
Jiang Cheng could appreciate that.
"You're a good fighter." Jiang Cheng states, looking at the lake. Jiang Cheng doesn't like small talk, but he likes to be direct to the point. Jiang Cheng sets his cup down, "You handled that beast cleanly. Didn't even let it struggle."
Liu Qingge nodded. "It was weak. Slow. Not worth the effort."
Jiang Cheng huffed a quiet laugh. "Would hate to see what you consider a worthy opponent."
For the first time, Liu Qingge's lips twitched—not quite a smile, but something close. "You'd make an interesting sparring partner."
Jiang Cheng blinked, then smirked. "Is that a challenge?"
Liu Qingge met his gaze, the weight of it heavy but not unpleasant. "An observation. But if you want it to be a challenge, I won't refuse."
Something flickered in Jiang Cheng's chest—something sharp, electric. The idea of fighting Liu Qingge, of testing himself against someone of his caliber, sent a thrill through him. It had been a long time since he'd met someone who made him want to fight for the sake of it, rather than out of duty or necessity.
"...Alright."
Jiang Cheng led him to the training grounds, which were empty and cleaned. Jiang Cheng only unsheathed his sword, And Liu Qingge was ready. His blade met his, and they fought. Jiang Cheng had to admit, Liu Qingge lived up to his title and reputation. He was quick and strong, ruthless in his attacks and firm in his defense.
Their swords clashed in a flurry of movement, the crisp night air filled with the sharp ring of metal against metal. Liu Qingge was relentless, every strike precise, every motion honed from years of discipline and battle. Jiang Cheng, however, was no slouch. His own blade was swift, its strikes carrying a bite of force and fury that mirrored his temper.
For every ruthless cut Liu Qingge sent his way, Jiang Cheng met it with equal ferocity. His style was different—where Jiang Cheng was sharp and precise, Liu Qingge was aggressive, pushing forward with a relentless energy that forced his opponent to meet him head-on. Sparks flew as their swords scraped against each other, feet moving in a deadly rhythm across the training grounds.
Liu Qingge, to his credit, barely looked winded. His expression remained calm, though there was something in his eyes—an edge of satisfaction, perhaps, or amusement. Jiang Cheng grit his teeth, shoving forward, forcing Liu Qingge back a step. Liu Qingge's eyes brightened.
And then he moved—faster, sharper, stronger. Jiang Cheng barely had time to parry before he was forced onto the defensive, Liu Qingge pressing forward with a ruthless efficiency. The force of his strikes sent vibrations up Jiang Cheng's arms, his muscles straining as he met each blow with sheer determination.
For the first time in a long while, Jiang Cheng smiled.
It was exhilarating—finally, someone who could match him, who wouldn't crumble under pressure or cower at his anger. Liu Qingge fought with the kind of brutal grace that Jiang Cheng could respect. Where Jiang Cheng moved with the fluidity of a strong river, Liu Qingge had the ferocity of a raging inferno.
They moved like a storm across the training grounds, trading blows with a wordless understanding, neither willing to yield. The world narrowed to just them, to the clash of swords, the sharp inhales of breath, the tension coiling between them like a taut wire.
Then—Liu Qingge moved, quicker than Jiang Cheng anticipated, stepping inside his guard. Jiang Cheng barely registered it before a hand shot out, gripping his wrist, twisting just enough to disarm him. Sandu clattered to the ground, and in the same breath, Liu Qingge swept a leg under his feet, sending him toppling.
Jiang Cheng landed hard on his back, breath knocked from his lungs, and before he could move, the cold bite of a blade pressed against his throat.
Silence...
Liu Qingge stood over him, sword steady, gaze unreadable. His breathing was only slightly uneven, but his lips quirked—just barely. "You're good," he admitted, voice low. "But not good enough."
Jiang Cheng should be pissed. He should be furious about being disarmed so easily. But instead, he laughed—a short, breathless chuckle, equal parts amusement and frustration.
"You're annoying," he muttered.
Liu Qingge tilted his head. "So are you."
With a huff, Jiang Cheng lifted a hand, flicking Liu Qingge's wrist just enough to push the blade away from his neck. "Get off me."
Liu Qingge obliged, stepping back with a grace that irked Jiang Cheng even more. He pushed himself up, dusting off his robes, glowering at the other man. Liu Qingge, damn him, looked completely unaffected.
Jiang Cheng exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose you expect a reward for winning?"
Liu Qingge considered him, eyes dark and calculating. "...No. But I do expect a rematch."
Jiang Cheng scoffed, but the challenge sent a thrill through him. "Fine. Next time, I'll win."
"Hm." Liu Qingge's gaze flickered—something unreadable passing through his eyes. He stepped closer, voice quieter now, more deliberate. "I look forward to it." Jiang Cheng blinked at the sudden space, or lack of, and stepped back.
Jiang Cheng stood there for a moment, chest still heaving from exertion, Liu Qingge's presence a weight on his ribs. He felt exhausted. He felt winded. He felt... excitement. He was excited, at a chance for a rematch, at potentially having another spar. Even though it felt like a fleeting encounter, Jiang Cheng allowed himself to hope. And he never allowed himself to hope.
"...Another round?" Liu Qingge asked, already in position. Jiang Cheng didn't hesitate. He used his foot, tossing Sandu into his open hand, smirking at him.
"Hell yeah."
Not once did Jiang Cheng return to the party. Not even after the party ended, nor when the sun was starting to rise, it's color bleeding into the sky. Despite going a full night, Jiang Cheng didn't feel tired.
· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·
As Jiang Cheng expected, the encounter was brief, and things went back to normal. It's been exactly 3 months since Jiang Cheng first met Liu Qingge. He would've forgotten him, had their spar not been ingrained in his mind. The way Liu Qingge moved, it was an aggressive style, one that screamed ferocity and precision, and yet he somehow moved with a grace of a fairy.
He fought with the experience Jiang Cheng has yet to have. But of course, he knows that those outer clans have been around for a long time, much longer than lotus pier. He's not surprised that Liu Qingge has the skill of an immortal martial god. And yet, he can't help but envy him, desire to be just as skilled, just as strong.
He finds himself in the training grounds more often, sparing with training dummies more than he ever had in his youth. He constantly chases that feeling, that buzz of excitement he had felt when fighting Liu Qingge. But he never gets it. He even went as far as to create some new maneuvers. The inspiration came when he saw a disciple helping a fisherman, balancing himself on the wooden boat while carrying a heavy basket of fish.
And thus, he began to train on the water, desperately finding his footing on a constantly rocking boat. At first, he thought it to be a strange whim he followed, indulging on the very first thing that popped into his head, not unlike a certain someone who will remain unnamed, and it was a waste of time.
But the moment he got on land, he felt... sturdier. And when he fought against his disciples, sparring with them, he felt faster. More balanced and firm in his stance. He then integrated it into Yunmeng's training. From then on, Jiang Cheng focused more on training and fighting on the water, constantly putting himself in a disadvantage, only for him to gain an advantage.
And yet, with every slice of his sword, every snarl of Zidian, Jiang Cheng felt as though he was still behind Liu Qingge. He needed to bridge that gap, to be as skilled as he was. He needed to fight him.
A loud thud broke him from his reverie, a large stack of scrolls on his desks. "Jiang-Zōngzhǔ! These are from the elders," Oh goodie, what fun. "The elders have sent over a list of potential--"
Jiang Cheng immediately tuned out after that. He knew what that pile was, and god, did he dread looking at it, barely able to consider reading it. He let the disciple drone on and on and just drowned himself in paperwork.
At the last signed piece of paper, Jiang Cheng went to train. He had a new idea on a new potential attack, the sudden urge to try it out filling him up with a giddiness he had only in his youth. That night, he couldn't stop testing it, but nothing worked. It was annoying.
A week later, and he's out on a night-hunt with some disciples. A village has been haunted by a vengeful spirit, and is one by one plucking villagers and killing them. The village was... deserted. Jiang Cheng shouldn't be too surprised, why stay with a murderous spirit on the loose when you can leave?
It was a simple plan: Find the spirit, capture it in a Qi net, and then exorcise it, and it was actually going well. They found the spirit, had a run around the village chasing it, and lured it into a trap. However, one disciple got a blast sent to his side and the net got loose, to which the spirit escaped. Now, Jiang Cheng was gonna interfere. Jiang Cheng was just too surprised to act on account of a silver-robed man suddenly appearing from above, his sword pinning it down, and his palm glowing.
And just like that, the spirit was exorcised. Jiang Cheng would've been in awe, or grateful... had he not been annoyed at how he totally stole his moment. "I had it." He huffs, crossing his arms as his disciples pant, trying to collect themselves.
"Sure you did. That's why your net was badly made and it got away." His net was what?! Jiang Cheng narrowed his gaze, his irritation flaring as Zidian crackled.
"The net was fine. No holes, no space." He firmly defends, marching up to him with an ugly glare. Liu Qingge doesn't stand down. Instead, he crosses his arms, those almond eyes just as sharp. "The spirit escaped how, then? Through the large hole your disciple made!"
"He was attacked!"
"The spirit is meant to be subdued! Clearly, the net didn't do it's intended purpose because it wasn't made well!" Liu Qingge pushed, his chest nearly touching Jiang Cheng's as his eyes narrowed. Jiang Cheng noticed he was exactly a centimeter shorter. For some reason, this irritated him even more. He growled, unsheathing his sword.
"Fight me, Liu Qingge!" He challenged, not caring at how he must look like a wild dog right now. Fortunately for him, Liu Qingge doesn't seem to care, or mind for that matter, because pretty soon, he's doing the same.
"I'll beat you, just like I did before!" He said, an arrogant glint in his eyes. Jiang Cheng growled.
He moved at lightning speed, sword first and zidian following. He was faster, more flexible, using the terrain to his advantage. He relished at the confusion and surprise on Liu Qingge's face, his pride glowing at having the upper hand, at the way Liu Qingge couldn't use brute force against his quick moves, not able to even land a hit on him.
Until Jiang Cheng messed up, because of course he did.
He wanted to include that new move he had created, despite not knowing how to even do it. So he decided to wing it. He jumped over Liu Qingge, high up and kicked his blade down at Liu Qingge. Liu Qingge's eyes widened, narrowly dodging the sharp steel before jumping up. Now, Jiang Cheng didn't predict that, but he was prepared.
His ring crackled, and zidian shot down to Liu Qingge. He got closer to the ground, while Liu Qingge got higher. And then...
They were right beside each other. It was as if time paused, their faces towards each other, Jiang Cheng upside down, glaring at Liu Qingge, hair tousled and cheeks flushed, with Zidian behind him, illuminating his body. Liu Qingge's eyes were fierce and narrow, his sword in his hand. But he was smiling. His hair was just as messy, and his cheeks were just as red. It took that brief moment for Jiang Cheng to realize he wasn't even annoyed anymore, because he felt himself smiling widely. He was... excited.
He was having fun.
And just like that, he plummeted down, while Liu Qingge soared up. Jiang Cheng extended his hand, Zidian whipping out towards Liu Qingge, wrapping around him. He doesn't register when he lands, nor when Liu Qingge is pulled down either. He just knows, he's standing above Liu Qingge surrounded by dust, who's wrapped in zidian, and panting heavily.
With a large grin on his face.
"...."
"....Hah.... You got better...." Liu Qingge says, his tone no longer irritated. More like... reverent.
"I did." Jiang Cheng said breathlessly, smirking smugly at him as Zidian returned to his ring. Liu Qingge got up, eyes never leaving Jiang Cheng's.
"Come to Bai Zhan. I'll fight you for real." Liu Qingge tosses him something. It's small, but heavy when Jiang Cheng catches it. A jade talisman. A formal invitation. Jiang Cheng takes a moment to register his words. But even when he does, he doesn't recoil. In fact, his hand lands on his hip, and he smirks.
"I'll take you up on that offer." Liu Qingge hums at that, and he leaves, using the dust around them. He watched his figure retreat and vanish, not even thinking about the disciples around him, coughing and trying to locate the two men. He just earned himself a formal invitation to Bai Zhan peak.
"A-Cheng?"
Jiang Cheng snapped his eyes open, looking at the bed in their room. Liu Qingge yawned, sitting up and putting a robe over his shirtless torso. He yawned, his beautiful raven hair open as he walked towards him, a tired look on his face.
"Why the hell are you still awake?" He grumbled, sitting down next to him. Jiang Cheng chuckled fondly, gently rubbing Liu Qingge's arm as he laid his head on Jiang Cheng's shoulder. "I'm almost done, Qingge. Were you waiting for me?"
Liu Qingge grumbled, nuzzling further into Jiang Cheng's neck. He took that as a 'yes'. Jiang Cheng sighed, flicking his forehead. "Dumbass, I told you to sleep."
"It's hard when you're scribbling on stupid documents right next to the bed." Liu Qingge weakly glared at him. Jiang Cheng felt a little bit guilty at that. Liu Qingge's room on Bai Zhan wasn't really small, but it was simple, and he had a desk in his room near his bed. Of course, given the illiterate brute he is, he rarely uses it. But when Jiang Cheng comes, it's a whole other story.
"Sorry, I just... I got carried away." Jiang Cheng sighed, feeling the exhaustion sink in. "...I thought of something."
"Hm?"
"Remember when we first met?" Jiang Cheng asked, snorting as Liu Qingge pushed the scrolls away with a look of disdain, pulling Jiang Cheng to bed. He doesn't flinch at the question, only humming in reply.
"Yeah."
Jiang Cheng traced a finger along the edge of the bed, watching the way Liu Qingge’s hair fell across his face in the dim light. "I never thought… you know, back then, that we’d end up here," he muttered, voice low.
Liu Qingge hummed, finally turning to look at him, eyes softening. "Here?"
"Like... this. You, me... sitting here, in your room... being intimate." Jiang Cheng smirked, though there was a hint of fondness behind it. "Back then, all I thought about was new ways to kick your ass."
Liu Qingge chuckled, a quiet, warm sound that made Jiang Cheng’s chest tighten. "Can't believe you created a whole new sequence just to beat me." Jiang Cheng flushed at that, remembering all those nights he stayed up, trying to come up with the perfect way to beat Liu Qingge.
"Yeah... I was... something." Jiang Cheng sighed, rubbing his forehead as shame overcame him. Liu Qingge notices and grips his sleeve, tugging it lightly with a frown. "Hey. Creating a whole new sequence is the most admirable thing someone has ever done,"
Liu Qingge gently kissed his cheek, rubbing his arm, "And the most romantic anyone has ever done for me." Jiang Cheng flushed at the contact, but he can't bite back the smile that grows and the laugh that spills.
"Weirdo... that's romantic for you?" He snorts at Liu Qingge's smirk, shaking his head.
"What's more romantic than leaving such a strong impression on someone that they create a whole new sequence just to beat you? You thought of me. Constantly. I'd say that is a flirting technique gone right."
Jiang Cheng laughs, shaking his head. Then he stops, eyes widening. He looks at Liu Qingge, who stares at him in confusion. "What?"
"Qingge.... do you mean to tell me that the first night we met, when you challenged me to a spar... that was you... flirting?!"
Liu Qingge turns pink, and he turns on his side, huffing as he throws the blanket over him like he's going to sleep. "It's late. Sleep." But Jiang Cheng wasn't done. He laughed, tugging the blanket away. "No, you don't! All this time, I thought I was the weird one for creating a new combat sequence, but you're the one who thought sparring is flirting!"
"Good. Night!" Liu Qingge stubbornly said, not budging at all. "Qingge!" Jiang Cheng laughed, trying and failing at seeing Liu Qingge. He softly sighed, smiling. "You brute.... what am I gonna do with you?" He softly chuckled.
Liu Qingge slowly turned, and he huffed, pulling Jiang Cheng down, combing through his hair. Jiang Cheng couldn't help it when he made a soft sound of pleasure, leaning into the touch. It felt so good to be held, to be loved and cared for. Jiang Cheng never liked being treated like a child. But here, he feels like treasure. Like he's something that's meant to be treated with great respect and adoration.
He sinks into his arms, letting Liu Qingge pull him on top of his chest. "You like me how I am," Liu Qingge said softly, combing through Jiang Cheng's hair, letting the warmth settle between them.
Jiang Cheng melted like a puddle, heart thudding in his chest, before letting out a laugh. "I do. I really do."
Liu Qingge tilted his head to look down at him, eyes glimmering. "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere, A-Cheng."
Jiang Cheng’s fingers tightened on the robe that's still on Liu Qingge, swallowing nervously. There was a time that he thought himself undeserving of such devotion. That Liu Qingge would leave. He still doesn't think he deserves that devotion, but he knows that Liu Qingge would never leave him. A small grin tugging at his face. "Yeah... I know. And... I’m not letting you go either."
The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft rustle of the night breeze outside the window. And for the first time in a long while, Jiang Cheng felt... at peace. He closes his eyes, letting Liu Qingge's strong arms hold him, the memory of every first moment they've had replaying in his mind, his breathing evening out. Liu Qingge smiles softly, gently kissing his forehead, before closing his own eyes. Memories of the first night he had after meeting Jiang Cheng flooded his mind.
All he could think about—all he kept thinking about, was how strong of a fighter Jiang Cheng was. And how that strong passion in his eyes was a passion he wanted directed at him for as long as he lived. He opened his eyes and smiled. He's glad that he skipped several meetings that day... Otherwise, he never would've fought against Jiang Cheng. He held the sleeping man tighter.
Yup. He wouldn't change a thing.