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Day 4: Same Designation (a/b/o), Clothes, Gifts
The night was cold, blood-freezingly so as it often was in the midst of winter’s cruel hands. Villagers were huddled together in the late night, preparing for the upcoming end-of-year festivals as they quietly conversed over warm broths and warming beverages.
A cloaked figure, scentless and shadowed, made its way through the crowds as the person walked toward the heavily perfumed and warmly glowing brothel, Red Warm Pavilion. When they crossed the street, they walked down the alleyway toward the service entrance of the building.
A hand lifted a jade token keyed into the wards, and was allowed admittance. The building was warm with familiar scents– family, loved ones, gentleness. With a pull of his hand, Shen Qingqiu slid his traveling cloak off and wound it over his arm. He sniffed and lightly shivered at the difference in temperature while his cold features smoothed into something more amicable.
Perfectly, the individual he most wished to see happened to exit the communal bathing rooms, his wet, pin-straight black hair wrapped back with a swath of silk. “Hmm! You’re early, Jiu-ge!” The male Kunze purred in surprised pleasure, Cao YuanYuan, an ethereal beauty who was the only man that Shen Qingqiu favored in the Jianghu.
“A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu greeted back, his pleasure hidden from his scent but clear in his voice as he allowed the brothel worker to run up and grab his arm with excitement. The man had earned such touches after years of knowing each other. Gone were the days in which Shen Qingqiu stiffly allowed the performer to play his late mother’s zither when the rest of the Jiejies and Meimeis were busy with their music, tea services, and clients.
“Come, come! This one has a surprise for Jiu-ge,” Cao Yuan exclaimed, those down-turned eyes light with excitement after a relaxing evening, thanks to Shen Qingqiu’s crafty booking. The willowy Kunze’s light green and cream, ‘off-day’ robes were made of the finest silk, one of many old gifts that Shen Qingqiu had given the oblivious brothel worker.
The days' labor and frustrations slowly fell off the peak lord’s shoulders as he was led deeper and deeper into the heart of the brothel’s living quarters. As a well-traveled and richly sponsored brothel, this brothel was not a simple building filled with nothing but sin and sweat.
Rather, the building was large and layered, unlike the commoner businesses that sat next to it, squat and ugly compared to the richly painted terracota and intricately carved architecture. The Kunze and Zhongyong men, women, and the pups in apprenticeship (sold by their parents and/or taken in from the streets) had their own personal rooms, and the kitchens were brimming with servants, cooks, and launderers.
It was a home, as much as it was a place of business for these Mingji-style courtesans. And they were lucky to have a Madam who attempted to uphold some ethical practices, as much for the sake of her pack as well as the prospective noble looking for a second wife or a concubine.
Shen Qingqiu eyed the Kunze as they passed the communal resting area with the pack nest, curiosity and affection rising in his chest as he was whisked away to Cao Yuan’s personal nest. Or rather, their nest, as Shen Qingqiu had quietly begun to call it in his head. For Cao Yuan was fervent in keeping other scents from entering his space– so un-Kunze in nature, that many of their pack teased the young man of secretly being a Qianyuan.
But Shen Qingqiu knew exactly how much of a Kunze the man was, his tongue licking his molars at the thought of the last few Seasons of Dew that they had spent together in the past handful of years.
Shen Qingqiu closed the door behind him, watching in poorly concealed amusement as Cao Yuan fluttered around his room. The scent of content and excited Kunze quickly permeated the air as he kneeled, behind raised as he looked in the hidden compartments in his bed frame. Black eyes turned away from the sight, his hands quickly freeing themselves of his traveling cloak into the closet space.
The fabric would become refreshed with that scent of wild lavender and the rich, nutty sweetness of an almost exotic flavor that Shen Qingqiu had yet to find a name or a physical representative for. It reminded him of honey-sweetened tofu, soft and creamy and something he couldn’t get enough of.
Shen Qingqiu’s stomach rumbled, his deep breaths stilling as he blushed from the loud sound. Cao Yuan looked up at him with those dark eyes and scowled, his plump lips a pout while that sweet, heart-shaped face looked upon him in concern. “Has Jiu-ge been skipping his meals again?” The Kunze tutted and stood up, the clothed gift hidden in a bundle of black cloth.
Shen Qingqiu gave him a dismissive sniff, his fan opening to hide his expression as he sat down at the small tea table. Cao Yuan walked over to him and sat by the crook of his elbow, pouting as he set the bundle on the table and invited himself to press a hand to the cultivator’s ribs.
“Too skinny,” He decided, the cluck of his tongue and the swish of his robes loud as he jumped up to go and grab the man some of the cooled leftovers from the dinner service earlier.
“Aish, don’t trouble yourself with this one. Jiu-ge practices inedia, in case A-Yuan forgets,” Shen Qingqiu ordered, his face blank despite how hot his ribcage felt from that touch. The precious brush of delicate digits as lethal as a swiping blade passing through his defenses, and the cultivator’s heart raced like so.
“A Kunze mustn’t starve themselves,” Cao Yuan called back, smug and mischievous at getting the chance to throw Shen Qingqiu’s words back at him. With the soft click of the door, Cao Yuan ran off on a fool's errand of feeding an immortal master.
At this emptiness, Shen Qingqiu frowned. He then pulled off his nondescript outer robe and then his talismaned sixth layer and set it to the side. He rubbed his freed neck, the high collar of its talismaned fabric finally allowing his overactive glands to spill out his scent. Almost instantly, the content and slightly spicy bamboo and mint pre-heat scent spilled out into the room.
Finally, after passing many hidden heat cycles in the lonely, isolated bamboo hut under the pretenses of his rut, the Peak Lord finally had his leadership structured enough to allow him to leave the peak for a longer period. Hopefully, he would be able to spend his entire heat duration with his Cao Yuan before the peak burst into flames.
Peak Lords, like the common discipe, were expected to take a week of absence for their respective heat and rut cycles. Zhongyong allowed to take leave if they had to attend to a partner or similar health conditions.
Shen Qingqiu’s legs clamped closer as he tried to tone down his excitement for the week he would spend with his courting partner. The contract he held in his Qiankun sleeve burned a hole in his skin; the fact that the Kunze had only been booked for performing on the stage and for Shen Qingqiu’s company seemed to have gone over the man’s head.
And Cao Yuan positively glowed from the months that his contract had been bought under the table. On nights when he could slip away, Shen Qingqiu had been circling him like a shark in water, slowly pushing the idea for the man to join him upon his peak as his– the Kunze bit his lip, smothering his face in the sleeve of his outer robe. Breathing in stale neutrality and his distant bamboo scent, he attempted to calm his heart and mind.
He would have Cao Yuan on his peak in any manner that he could. As an older disciple, a hall-master in the Erhu and Zither, or as his wife– Shen Qingqiu had no care for labels, as long as the Kunze was by his side at the end of every day.
A knock sounded from the door, stirring the cultivator from his hazy daydreams. He stood and opened the door, allowing in a brightly smiling Cao Yuan with a tray of hearty foods and light broths. The Kunze paused with a twitch of his nose, his face blushing as he recognized that refreshing scent lingering around the other Kunze.
“Ah–” Cao Yuan sputtered and quickly moved to unload his offerings on the tea table, his head ducked with a flustered air. Shen Qingqiu chuckled, amused yet pleased at this respectful side-stepping, the care clear as he looked over the assortment of foods.
When he sat back down, he had to bite down the sigh his lips wished to spill and straighten the posture that wished to slump in satisfaction at the display before him. Cao Yuan truly was like a Qianyuan with how he pampered and cared for Shen Qingqiu, a weighty adoration combined with the immense love Kunze held for their people.
This was different from pack, this was a narrowed focus and borderline puppying behavior as Cao Yuan dared to spoon-feed him. How he scrambled to wrap the cultivator in a deeply scented blanket after a well-timed shiver. Shen Qingqiu fanned himself as he leaned back in contentment, the fabric of the nest a solid comfort while he watched Cao Yuan clean up the dishes.
“There!” The man huffed, proud and brimming with happiness as he looked at Shen Qingqiu with a beaming smile. His hands were on his curvy hips, his legs wide, and his smug grin bringing a squint to his warm eyes. It took everything in Shen Qingqiu not to pull out the contract and break the news then and there.
Silencing that small voice in his head that had grown comfortable with pointing out, “Look how good of a provider A-Yuan is,” and how the man, "Looks upon us with deep fondness– no judgement, no disdain. See, see! He should be ours!” It had taken a long while for him to allow this voice to speak freely, of course, but now, he was happy to agree with it.
After putting Cao Yuan through many unknown and planned-out tests over the years, the Peak Lord knew he couldn’t allow the Kunze to slip from his hold. For the man to be stolen by the countless suitors who had been clamoring and pestering the Madam to marry him off. It was only because they were pack that the woman had allowed Shen Qingqiu to accumulate the money for the man’s contract over a five-year time span.
His work in talismans and his head disciple allowance surely fleeced her purse enough to allow such favored business dealings.
Shen Qingqiu allowed himself to enjoy the taste of the food piled upon him as well as the close warmth of his beloved by his side. For once, he felt as though all of the trials in his life had worth for this fated meeting. How the arcs of life had brought the two of them together.
Before he knew it, Shen Qingqiu was purring, broken and raspy as he was brought to rest his head on Cao Yuan’s lap within their nest. The Kunze ran an old, chipped, painted wooden comb through his hair, the sentimental piece deepening the warmth Shen Qingqiu felt building in his chest.
And the answering Kunze purrs that rumbled through the man’s chest made Shen Qingqiu’s resolve strengthen. No matter how upset Cao Yuan grew with him for the underhanded purchase of his contract, Shen Qingqiu was determined to get him to Qing Jing.
A reality that drew ever nearer as the Madam began to mention how she was going to need the space of the Cao room.
His eyes slowly drifted over the furniture, some of it Cao Yuan’s, some of it the Kunze’s late mother. He calculated what could be purchased from the Madam and what could be upgraded into high-quality gifts for his future mate. Already, he had restructured the Bamboo Hut, easily turning the side room into a room for the Kunze rather than a room for some sniffling Head Disciple.
Hands brushed through his hair and gently rubbed their way down to Shen Qingqiu’s scent glands, leisurely exchanging warm touches and casual scent marking that had the scholar clutching the Kunze closer. “Mine, Mine,” that inner voice all but yowled, and Shen Qingqiu had to force himself to sit up from that comfortable spot, lest he truly turn into some puddle of content Kunze.
“Ge has a gift for A-Yuan,” Shen Qingqiu’s tongue felt large and clumsy in his sleepy mouth. He met a similarly hooded gaze, the Kunze confident and relaxed as he leaned back into his nest with an expectant air. Much like an empress awaiting their lord husband to lavish a mountain of gifts upon them.
It nearly hurt for the Kunze to pull himself from the nest, but he had to grab one of his peeled-off outer robes for the qiankun sleeve. His light inner robes clung to his sweating skin as he pulled himself out of the covers, his skin prickling at the cooler air. A hiss came from his lips as he dug through the sleeve, impatient to get back to the softly chuckling Kunze.
“Unfilial, laughing at your elders' plights,” Shen Qingqiu grumbled without much heat, nipping at Cao Yuan’s dipped cheek in reprimand as he crawled back into the nest. Cao Yuan perked up, remembering his own gift as he looked upon the beautifully crafted silk bag in the other Kunze’s hands.
Moving much faster, Cao Yuan scampered over to the table and grabbed his own bundle, and with an excited air, he happily presented his own gift to the peak lord.
“A-Yuan can’t possibly be unfilial, as he brings his own gifts for Jiu-ge– unless such efforts are considered too lowly of origin for the great peak lord’s attention,” the Kunze simpered, the tone and slightly wet-eyed look drawing a growl from Shen Qingqiu.
He bit once more at that plump cheek, both of them quickly devolving into a yapping, growling mess of limbs as they fought like pups. Shen Qingqiu tickled those well-researched places of weakness while Cao Yuan let out offended sounds and uncontrollable laughter. The playful ruckus earned them a few angry and wall-shaking pounds from the neighboring room.
Shen Qingqiu blushed and activated the silencing talismans with a hand against the wall, Cao Yuan gulping in air as the scholar moved to settle back on his hunches. From this position, he smiled at the sight of the sweating and brightly smiling Kunze resting under him.
He moved off of the man before things could devolve into what needed to be rushed, his throat clearing as he tilted an aloof expression toward the discarded gifts. His face was an unmoved mask as though he hadn’t just been bullying the soft, flushed Kunze before him.
Shen Qingqiu bit back a smile as he allowed the man to lean against him, frowning and putting on a scolding expression as he gave the scholar his own reprimanding nip. “Open your gift,” Cao Yuan ordered, pouting as he leaned his cheek on Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder, his arms loose around the man’s toned waist while his legs were folded under him.
Shen Qingqiu hummed, quiet and pleased as he moved his hands to grab the gift. The fabric was soft under his hands, and he slowly unraveled it with a calm air. Taking his time, he paused as his fingers caught upon a different texture.
On the last layer of silk, a beautiful, intricately woven neckpiece looked up at him. While his face remained serene in his shock, his insides churned with an intense warmth as he looked upon the claiming jewelry. It was handcrafted, wafting Cao Yuan’s scent from nights and days of wearing it around his own neck.
It was strung with a green ribbon, light green and hand-embroidered with cranes and bamboo motifs along the adjustable fabric. The beads added a weight to the collar-like piece of jewelry; a few of the pearls Shen Qingqiu had gifted him were added amongst the carefully sanded pieces of turquoise stone. It was the perfect mix of them.
Shen Qingqiu lightly quivered under the onslaught of emotions that roared through him. Cao Yuan smiled, nuzzling his cheek with a sweet, chaste kiss one would give an emotional pup.
“It is a representation of our...” Cao Yuan doefully blushed, his eyes looking to the side as his manicured hand squeezed Shen Qingqiu’s forearm in a possessive hold. “Our close friendship,” he settled on saying, always side-stepping his true emotions with his words. But Shen Qingqiu could feel their true closeness in how closely Cao Yuan clung to him, how carefully the necklace was crafted and arranged.
“I love it,” Shen Qingqiu spoke bluntly once he regained his voice, his gaze pinning the shy and emotional reticent Kunze, who flinched back with a high-pitched yelp, “Put it on,” the peak lord held the necklace toward him with an expectant air. When it was taken in between lightly shaking digits, Shen Qingqiu pulled his air to his front and turned to offer his nape.
A weighted silence stretched between them as Cao Yuan wrapped the necklace around his neck and fumbled with tying it. “...How tight do you want it?” The Kunze asked, his voice hushed as though his words would break the air and cause the brothel walls to come tumbling around them.
“Tighter,” Shen Qingqiu told him, a blasted purr already stirring in his chest as he felt the necklace come flush with his skin. Cao Yuan’s pleasant scent filled his nose– just the thought of having the necklace displayed over his high-collared robes had him preening and anxious to sweep the Kunze away.
“Here,” he hurriedly leaned away once it was secured, his words slurring as he brought the bag closer and offered the gift with an averted gaze. His ears felt like they were going to burst into flame with how hot they grew, and he quickly looked to savor the Kunze’s reaction.
Those green-painted nails slowly pulled the cord open, the man’s shoulders hunched as he grew nervously flustered under Shen Qingqiu’s rapt attention. A soft gasp fell from his lips, his dark eyes widening as he looked upon the beautifully crafted, Qing Jing-style robes.
They were nothing like the leisure robes Shen Qingqiu had made for him. Instead, these layers were as painstakingly embroidered and stitched together as the peak lord’s finest set of robes. They were befitting an official with a high standing, something Cao Yuan instantly picked up on.
As though being weighed down with the commitment and expectations of a life-long mate, Cao Yuan very carefully stretched the fabric out between his pinched fingers. As though afraid of crumbling the fabric and ruining it. Those dark eyes looked from Shen Qingqiu to the fabric and right back to the other Kunze.
Seeing the suspicious brain cells whirling in that pretty head, Shen Qingqiu put on his most disarming (pitiful) expression. “Does A-Yuan not wish to wear this one’s colors anymore?” He asked, as though deeply and horribly pained at the betrayal of their teenage years.
Of moments over tea, where Cao Yuan had excitedly twirled in a spare disciple uniform that Shen Qingqiu had outgrown from his cultivation. And then happily went on, complaining about the brutish Bai Zhan disciples who sought him out for his skills in dual cultivation. “None of their Qi fits as perfectly as Jiu-Ge’s,” the Kunze had claimed, chuckling as the cultivator choked on his tea at the mention of their non-sexual exchange of Qi.
For his wretched meridians to be as pleasant as Shen Jiu found the brothel worker’s meridians, the casual admission had sparked a deep possessiveness for him to make sure those brutes never cultivated with him again. And they never would again, an excited shiver ran down his back.
He kept his face into that pitiful display of emotion, forcing a sad whimper when Cao Yuan continued to look over his face. Those fingers shifted and gripped the robes closer to him in weary acceptance, and Shen Qingqiu delighted in this choice. He knew the internal struggle that openly battled across the Kunze’s face.
That deep struggle between instinctual weariness and the hesitant, hopeful trust of one used to the cruel hand that gave and took affection on whim. People who devoured the slightest show of weakness, the dark face one had to observe as a servant to man’s desires.
His heart soared and bounded in a field of joy as he watched Cao Yuan go through that shy dance of openly smelling the given robes. Those dark, perpetually sad-looking eyes were narrowing in satisfaction at his packmate’s scent, his chosen heat-mate savoring and coating his taste buds with Shen Qingqiu’s bamboo scent.
Feeling bold, Shen Qingqiu put on an unbothered air and slyly smirked at the Kunze as he rubbed his face against the fabric. He planted his palm to the soft floor of the nest and leaned into his space, his tone playful and light, “Wouldn’t it be so nice? For A-Yuan to visit Qing Jing peak someday?” He purred.
Expectantly, this question drew a grumble and a slightly downtrodden look as he gazed at that daydream of a future. But this time, Shen Qingqiu argued more pressingly, softly coaxing the Kunze to envision spending his days up there in that tranquil place. And when their conversation was broken apart by jaw-cracking yawns, they snuggled within their nest and curled against one another in a sleepy hold.
Hands clutching as though a cruel and uncaring being would tear them apart for the sake of a melodramatic plot. Not that that would happen on Shen Qingqiu’s watch, of course.