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“Get up,” Mobei Jun demanded as he stared down at where he knocked Shang Qinghua to the ground. He’d hit Shang Qinghua. There was much to do, but Mobei Jun never failed to strike Shang Qinghua when it was appropriate, and sometimes when it wasn’t. Clicking his tongue Mobei Jun repeated his command. He needed to go over his brother’s next attempt on his life and how to best counteract the poison his sister-in-law was so fond of, and Shang Qinghua was the only person he trusted to help him.
Shang Qinghua didn’t move.
A growl built in the back of Mobei Jun’s throat as he grabbed Shang Qinghua by the back of his robes and lifted him to his feet.
“Shang Qinghua! You dare defy an order from this king?!”
Shang Qinghua didn’t say anything, his head hung limp in submission. Scoffing Mobei Jun lowered the man so his feet were on the icy floor and made a note to fetch some of Shang Qinghua’s preferred snacks from the kitchens for their meeting.
Relinquishing his grasp on Shang Qinghua’s clothes Mobei Jun started to ask something, but the words died on his lips as Shang Qinghua crumpled to the ground without so much as an attempt at breaking his fall.
Usually Shang Qinghua would be groveling by now, complaining of pain and moaning that Mobei Jun needed to treat him with more care or he’d break, but instead he was motionless on the floor. Mobei Jun stared at where Shang Qinghua lay and asked tentatively, “Shang Qinghua?”
No reply.
Something horrible twisted in Mobei Jun’s gut and he knelt beside Shang Qinghua to see if he was okay, check his pulse the way humans liked doing and—
Shang Qinghua’s eyes were open. Dark amber stared back at Mobei Jun, unblinking and empty in their reflection.
Mobei Jun surged forward as a rush of panic and horror washed over him. Seizing Shang Qinghua’s wrist Mobei Jun searched for the pulse point and waited, desperate to feel the gentle thump of blood passing through. Nothing. He changed tactics and pulling Shang Qinghua into his lap felt for the spot along his cultivator’s neck. Although he was unfamiliar with most medical treatment, Mobei Jun knew that the neck pulse was more reliable and he needed to be proven wrong.
Nothing.
“Shang Qinghua.”
The sour taste of bile rose in Mobei Jun’s throat as he shook Shang Qinghua’s shoulder and hoped this was sick joke rather than reality. He could forgive Shang Qinghua for a cruel prank, he couldn’t forgive himself if this was reality.
Shang Qinghua didn’t respond, limp in Mobei Jun’s grasp.
“Qinghua!”
Mobei Jun clutched Shang Qinghua to his chest and looked around for someone to blame or something to fix what he did to the one person who stood by his side. The only problem was that there was no one to blame but himself. Mobei Jun was the one who hit too hard, and Shang Qinghua was the one who paid the price.
Anger replaced the dread, filling Mobei Jun’s chest as he snarled, “You said you wouldn’t leave me!”
The irony of his words burned like fire. Even when things were at their worst and he suffered for it, Shang Qinghua never left his side. When Mobei Jun hit harder than he should’ve despite Shang Qinghua’s warnings, he stayed when he should’ve run. It was Mobei Jun who made Shang Qinghua leave to a place he from which he couldn’t return.
“You said you wouldn’t leave,” Mobei Jun whispered, holding Shang Qinghua’s still warm body against his. The heat hadn’t faded yet and Mobei Jun dreaded what it would be like once it did. He wanted that heat to stay with him forever, to comfort him, warm his bed, and melt his heart like the first rays of morning sun.
Shang Qinghua grew cold in Mobei Jun’s arms, dead from a blow that meant something so different to demons than it did to humans.
Mobei Jun killed him. He killed the person who swore to stay by his side, and the warmth of Shang Qinghua’s skin was slowly replaced with the chill of death.