Work Text:
Chapter 1: The Ending
The invasion had been stopped. The battle reached its conclusion.
But something more precious than the victory or anything in Mobei-Jun's life was slipping away – along the unstoppable bleeds in his arms.
Mobei-Jun knelt in the wreckage, cradling Shang Qinghua’s limp body against his chest. Blood soaked through both their robes, warm and sticky.
His hands were shaking. All he could see was Shang Qinghua ever-vivid cheerful eyes — dimming with each slowing heartbeat.
A translucent screen hovered in the air from nowhere, playing a human-like but hollow voice.
> [SYSTEM WARNING: Host integrity compromised. Recommend activating Return Home Option.]
Mobei-Jun blinked. He shouldn’t be able to see this. He shouldn’t be able to hear the system’s voice. But he did.
He didn't know what a ‘system’ was but he could tell it's something Shang Qinghua possessed. And this would be his last hope.
“Will he survive?” he asked, voice low, trembling with something he refused to name.
> [Affirmative. Return Home will restore host to original state.]
Shang Qinghua coughed, blood flecking his lips. “No,” he gasped, clutching at Mobei-Jun’s sleeve. “I’m not gn…going back.”
Mobei-Jun brushed a strand of blood-matted hair from his forehead, thumb tenderly lingering on the curve of his cheek.
“No,” he murmured softly to Shang Qinghau's ear, “You’re going.”
He leaned in to kiss him, tender and steady, like making a wish or sealing a promise.
Then, with one hand still holding Shang Qinghua close, the other reached out and pressed the glowing word:
> [Confirm]
“No!” Shang Qinghua choked as he screamed, struggling weakly in Mobei-Jun's arms. “You can’t do this to me! I am not leaving you!”
Mobei-Jun’s grip tightened. “It’s okay, Qinghua. I’ll find you. In your world. I swear it.”
The system hummed.
A light enveloped Shang Qinghua. His body went slack, his soul tugged upward, and the world around him began to dissolve — color bleeding into white, sound fading into silence.
And just before everything turned to void, Shang Qinghua heard it — faint, but certain.
“I’ll find you.”
---
▪︎ Chapter 2: The World Without Him
Shang Qinghua woke to the artificial radiance of fluorescent lights.
The ceiling was white. Not the cracked ice stone of the Northern Desert Fortress, not the thick furry canopy of their bed which Mobei-Jun insisted on putting on. Just... moldy hospital ceiling tiles.
Shang Qinghua blinked, and the world didn’t shift back.
No system screen.
No cultivation qi.
No Mobei-Jun.
Just the beep of a heart monitor and the weight of a body that felt too light, too empty.
He lay still for a long while. Then, he cried
It was ugly, hiccuping sobs, snot and all. He curled up in a hospital bed, clutching the stiff blanket tightly.
“Mobei-Jun…” He mumbled the name over and over with his cracking voice in his sob.
But no one answered.
Mobei-Jun was not there.
After what feels like hours or ….days, god knows, he finally managed to contain his emotions. Just a little bit.
He reached for the phone on the bedside table with his trembling hand.
He hadn’t seen one in decades.
It still worked.
He unlocked it with muscle memory and opened the browser.
He searched for it —
‘Proud Immortal Demon Way’ – The novel he’d transmigrated into.
It was there. Still online. Still trashy. Still his.
But the storyline... it was wrong.
It was the one he wrote. Not the one he lived.
No vow from him to his King.
No shadow protection from the Demon Lord to his servant.
No hand-made noodles from his Mobei-Jun to him.
Just the dumb, shallow plot he’d typed out to please the audience for money.
He felt like he was drowning. Like he’d been spat out of a dream and left behind.
“Was it real?” he whispered. “Was he real?”
---
▪︎ Chapter 3: The Solitude Fortress
The Northern Desert Fortress was colder than ever. Even a breath to the chilling air might be lethal.
It's dark, silent and cold.
There're shimmering crystals inside but the only true light of the fortress was gone.
Mobei-Jun stood in the center of the throne room, staring at the spot where Shang Qinghua used to stand beside him every time during his presence, whispering whatever necessary info or ridiculous nonsense which just happened to come across his head.
For every time the ice cracks with a faint sound, he would look up. Hoping Shang Qinghua would jump down from a beam, giving him the silliest but most heartwarming smile.
But nothing happened.
He didn’t sleep. Didn’t eat. Barely spoke (Worse than ever).
He tried everything.
First, he interrogated the system. It didn’t respond. Not to him. Not anymore.
Then, he went to the one person who might understand — Shen Qingqiu.
“You came from his world,” Mobei-Jun said, voice low and dangerous. “Tell me how to get there.”
Shen Qingqiu, half-covered his face with his fan, looked at him with pity. “I didn’t choose to come here. I was pulled. There’s no return path. I’ve searched. I…I'm sorry.”
Mobei-Jun didn’t flinch. “Then I’ll make one.”
He scoured ancient demon texts. Broke into forbidden archives. Consulted soul-weavers and realm-walkers, anyone who whispered of dimensional rifts or soul-bound crossings.
He offered bribes. Threats. Promises.
Nothing worked.
But he didn’t stop.
Every night, he sat in their shared chamber. The one he’d forbidden any servants from entering, ever since Shang Qinghua had left.
He read the notes Shang Qinghua left behind. The doodles. The half-finished writing. He memorized them.
He whispered to the empty air, “I’ll find you. I promised.”
---
▪︎ Chapter 4: The Story That Couldn’t be continued
After being discharged from the hospital, Shang Qinghua started writing again.
Not Proud Immortal Demon Way.
Not another harem story.
Not fanfic of the half-demon protagonist and his Shizun.
This time, it was the truth.
He wrote their story — his and Mobei-Jun’s. Every moment, every misunderstanding, every stupid fight and tender kiss. Every time Mobei-Jun looked at him like he was something precious. Every time Shang Qinghua struggled with leaving but stayed.
He poured it all into the digital texts, hoping the words would act like a beacon. A signal. A bridge.
Weeks passed. The story grew. And finally, he reached the last line.
> “I’ll find you.”
He stared at the screen, tears blurring the text.
Nothing happened.
No portal. No system. No pop-up screen. No Mobei-Jun.
Just him. Just silence.
He rubbed his eyes with his sleeves. Eyes determined.
– Then, there’s no other choice.
Even though it felt like a lifetime ago (or it actually was), he still remembered how he’d first transmigrated to his book — it’s stupid and terrifying accident. But this was how it all began.
If it worked once, maybe it could work again.
He bought a scroll — a roll of nostalgia-style paper. The kind he used to be busy scribbling with. The kind had become a necessity in his daily outfit, felt like a part of himself in another world.
He wrote a letter. A long one. A desperate one. Just in case, things did not go as planned…
> Dear Mobei,
If you find this, it means I tried. I couldn’t wait anymore. Or maybe I should have but I didn’t...
He folded the scroll, placed it on his desk beside a stack of printed pages. It was their story. He printed it out, hoping his King could read it someday.
He stood in front of his new laptop, glancing at the glowing screen.
A story waiting for a new chapter.
Yet he didn’t know how to continue.
He poured cup noodles over the power strip.
Smoke curled into the air. The screen twitched and went dark.
He took several deep breaths. Closed his eyes. Begged in his heart.
– Please. Let me go back.
His fingers hovered inches from the live plug—
And then—
A pull.
Not the aching dizzying tug of transmigration. No. This was physical. Real. Familiar.
He was yanked backward, stumbling into a chest that was rigid, cold, and somehow still the warmest place he’d ever known.
Mobei-Jun.
He came. As promised.
“I’m sorry,” Mobei-Jun whispered, voice rough. “I’m late. I missed you. I shouldn’t have sent you away alone. I thought— I thought I’d never see you again.”
The stoic King was never a man of words. But now, he couldn’t stop mumbling, as if all his ache and longing could finally come out through the voice.
Shang Qinghua opened his mouth, but no words came. Just a sob. A broken, gasping sound as he clung to Mobei-Jun like a lifeline.
He bit down on Mobei-Jun’s shoulder — hard, expressing all his feelings through the pain he caused. It yelled ‘How dare you, how could you, don’t ever send me away again… and thank you. You came.’
Their racing heartbeats pressed against each other tightly, eventually slowed. Shang Qinghua released his teeth. For replacement, he licked the wound, soft and apologetic.
Mobei-Jun cupped his face and kissed him.
First gently, then with all the love he’d held back for too long.
They spent the night in Shang Qinghua’s tiny old apartment. The single bed was rotten. The springs creaked in protest. But it held them, just barely, through every kiss, every whispered apology, every rediscovered touch.
And when it was over — when the passion gave way to quiet breathing and tangled limbs — they slept.
For the first time since their separation, they slept in peace.
Together.
---
▪︎ Chapter 5: The Morning After
Sunlight streaked through the curtainless window of Shang Qinghua’s apartment. The two exhausted idiots shifted in the miserable bed – one that was barely holding together – to hide from the light.
Shang Qinghua blinked blearily at the ceiling. His whole body ached.
He stirred and felt Mobei-Jun’s arm was still holding his waist, heavy but tender.
Turning his head slightly, he found Mobei-Jun was already awake, watching him with that unreadable expression which somehow always felt endearing.
“You’re staring,” Shang Qinghua mumbled.
“You’re here,” Mobei-Jun replied.
Shang Qinghua flushed. “Well, yeah. I thought you had confirmed it multiple times last night.”
Mobei-Jun replied with a faint smile, eyes softened. “I came for you.”
Shang Qinghua looked away. “It took too long. I almost do something reckless…uhmm it doesn't matter anymore.”
Mobei-Jun pulled him closer for a long, tender kiss.
After spending another intimate while in bed, Mobei-Jun finally sat up, stretching. Shang Qinghua groaned behind him as the mattress groaned louder.
Mobei-Jun stood in the kitchen or a place with minimal tools. He attempted to cook breakfast with Shang Qinghua’s guidance.
After several near disaster-level failures, he glared at the appliance like it had personally insulted his bloodline.
Shang Qinghua chuckled. “You’re a demon lord. You’ve conquered demon realms. How are you losing to an electric pan?”
“I conquered realms,” Mobei-Jun muttered. “Not appliances.”
Mobei-jun gave up with frustration when Shan Qinghua’s stomach started rumbling loudly.
Eventually, they ended up with two steaming cup noodles,sitting on the floor with their backs against the half-ruined bed. Kneels bumped when they leaned close.
Shang Qinghua surprisingly found the noodles tasted better than ever.
Later, while Shang Qinghua was doing the dishes, Mobei-Jun spotted the scroll on the table.
He picked it up. It’s Shang Qinghua’s writing on it. Curious, he began to read.
By the time Shang Qinghua noticed, it was too late.
Mobei-Jun’s hands trembled. His jaw clenched. His eyes — always so unreadable — burned with fury.
Not at Shang Qinghua.
At himself.
“I hurt you,” Mobei-Jun said, voice low. “I knew in human courting, you’re not supposed to hurt the one you love. But I did. I sent you away. I made you suffer.”
Shang Qinghua was silent.
He walked over slowly, picked up Mobei-Jun’s hand, and pressed it to his cheek.
There were so many thoughts in his mind. So many things he could say.
“Yes,” he finally whispered. “You shouldn’t hurt the one you love.”
He looked up, eyes shining.
“I shouldn’t hurt you either. Please forgive me too, Mobei.”
Mobei-Jun’s breath hitched. His eyes were burning dry, moistures gathering at the edges.
Shang Qinghua adjusted his slightly cracked voice. His lips curled into a teasing smile.
“You’re not allowed to reject my apology. On record, I didn’t run away this time. You’re the one who sent me away. You can’t punish me for leaving neither.”
Mobei-Jun choked on a laugh — half guilt, half relief.
He pulled Shang Qinghua close and kissed him.
Started gently, then with everything he had – everything for his Shang Qinghua.
“I will never send you away again.”
And this time, they both believed it.
./end
- - -
▪︎ Bonus Chapter - The Letter
> Dear Mobei,
If you find this, it means I tried. I couldn’t wait anymore. Or maybe I should have but I didn’t.
I wrote our story — every part of it.
Our first encounter, when you were still a young demon prince, wounded, and I was just a nobody from An-Ding Peak. The vow I gave you, and the years I served at your side. Our first fight — the one I started — and my attempt to leave you. (I know better now. I would never again. I found out I can’t live without you.) The first hand noodles you made for me really didn't taste good at all but I love it. And the years we've been together after.
I don’t know if these words will reach you, but I had to believe they could. Those words might still connect us.
Not gonna lie — I’m scared. If this doesn’t work, I might die again. But I want to see you more than I want to live in a world without you. So I’m taking the reckless leap of faith that it would work like it brought me to you once before.
If I fail, and you come here — please know I didn’t give up. I was just trying to come home.
I love you. I never said it properly, did I? I was always too busy joking, deflecting, sobbing, running. But I love you.
I loved you when you were cold. I loved you when you were possessive. I loved you when you kissed me, and even when you let me go.
I love you, and I believe in your promise.
If this doesn’t work… I don’t know where I’ll be. Forgive this reckless, impulsive fool.
Find me. Please.
I promise I’ll wait for you this time.
—Your Qinghua
.