Chapter Text
Shang Qinghua stared at the tub, towel in hand, excited for a long soak in hot water. It's his favorite part of the day.
Then he recalled it was Wash Day.
Perks of Wash Day: pouring hot water over his head is very relaxing. So is the scalp rubbing and massaging when he soaps up and cleans his greasy hair. It would feel much less itchy afterword. Freshly washed hair smelled great. Felt great.
Cons of Wash Day: everything after the actual washing. Even the washing itself was a pain in his behind on the wrong day, and today was a wrong day. He was exhausted and didn't want to do anything. It's so many steps.
Long hair itself was so many steps. Why he had ever thought adhering to the xianxia aesthetics in his worldbuilding was a good idea... well, it looked cool, but it's a pain. It sucks, having long hair. He was so over it. It was too much work.
The brushing, the braiding, the oiling, the maintenance.
Staring at his loose hair, Shang Qinghua heaved a sigh. He really didn't want to wash it...
Maybe he'd feel better if he gave the ends a little refresher? Hair felt extra nice when it was just trimmed, and that could improve his mood. Give him a little motivation to actually wash his hair and not put it off and stay greasy another day.
The towel was dropped.
A knife from his discarded garments was grabbed.
"If I cut off a little bit, no one would know... I could wear a bun, not a ponytail. No one would notice a couple inches," he reasoned with himself in the mirror. "Yeah, no one will know."
Shang Qinghua parted his hair in half and made a loose "ponytail" with his fingers with the hair draped over his left shoulder. He dragged his fingers lower and settled what he believed looked to be a few inches up from the ends of his hair. Pinching the hair tighter, he started sawing away.
Okay, so sawing above his fingers was a mistake, length-wise. It was at least two inches shorter than he had intended. That's half a foot of hair hitting the floor.
Far from freaking out, Shang Qinghua felt liberated with each drag of his sharp knife.
He hummed under his breath, moving to the other side and making another finger "ponytail".
"I'm going to wear a bun. It doesn't matter. No one will notice. If I even it out like so-"
More sawing. More hair hit the floor. It was quite a rush. And the ends, so fresh and fluffy! Shang Qinghua had to fiddle with them, smiling as he played with their softness.
"That's uneven. Maybe a little more off this side?"
More sawing.
"More on this side? Ah, some more here?"
Several attempts to even the cut left Shang Qinghua covering his face, the regret hitting him like a truck. He had turned into a haircut fail compilation girl.
It was barely to his shoulders! Fuck!
What did he do?
After giving himself time to calm down and take a hot bath to settle his nerves, Shang Qinghua felt a lot better. What's done was done, yeah?
And his haircut wasn't that awful actually?
"I can still put this up. It's not that bad."
The lightness felt so freeing and comfortable, and he loved how it felt when he shook his head and shoved his hair out of his face with his fingers. His fingers reached the end of the strands much faster than he was used to, and that was so weird but so nice.
It's so light! Holy shit!
God, he missed having short hair.
Even this was considered long on a man in his old world, but compared to the waist-length bullshit Shang Qinghua had to deal with most of this life? It's refreshing as hell. He was in love.
The flip that was going on at the ends as it started air-drying was kind of cute too. He loved to play with it. So soft. If it was like this, he might actually start wearing it down. It's not bad like this. He dragged the upper half of his hair up and dropped it back down.
So satisfying, that flop down and how much bouncier it was. If the cut matched on both sides, it would be really attractive with this face shape. And forget how it looks, this feels fucking amazing. He shook his head again, sighing happily at the lack of weight.
Short hair was great.
Shang Qinghua wanted to keep it like this forever.
Scratch that. He was going to keep it this way forever.
He glanced at the hair on the ground and grinned to himself, hatching a plan. These chopped bits wouldn't work, but he had an idea of what to do to make fake hair that would match his original hair texture. Time to get to work!
Shang Qinghua was too busy cowering under a table to remember that he had taken his extensions off the night before.
"What is this?"
"What is what?"
Mobei-jun reached out and ran a hand through the human's offensively short hair, frigid fingers dragging harshly through the sleep-tangled waves at the crown of Shang Qinghua's head. Shang Qinghua let out a pained eep! as those same fingers caught on snarls and carelessly yanked past them but made a valiant effort to remain still as a statue.
The ends seemed of particular interest to Mobei-jun, the unbeatable softness and blunt healthy fluff of a fresh trim incomparably incomprehensible for a character in a xianxia setting. He sounded more surprised than angry when he finally spoke again, still fiddling with the flippy part of his ends.
"What is this?" the demon prince demanded.
"My hair?" Shang Qinghua tried. He winced as that quip earned him a rude tug that stung his scalp. He leaned his head into the direction of the tug to lessen the severity of the sting.
"What is this?" Mobei-jun repeated impatiently. "You had hair earlier."
"I do not find it comfortable to sleep in, so I removed it. My king knows how plant fibers and gold thread can be woven into braids to show one's status? My hair is similar to those accessories. It comes off at the end of the day," Shang Qinghua said.
Mobei-jun blinked at him. "This is normal for humans."
"It is normal for this human," Shang Qinghua said.
"No cutting out of shame for swearing your life to a demon?"
"No." Sometimes a haircut is just a haircut.
"You did not cut it off for me."
"No." Or was yes the better answer here...? Well, screw it. It's the truth. He did it for himself. He deserved to treat himself. "It was like this before I met you."
"Show me."
"Show-" Oh. Sure? "Yeah. Okay. Yes, sir."
Shang Qinghua crawled out from under the table and collected the extensions from his spatial pouch, along with a comb. Under intense scrutiny, he combed out his hair and then the extensions. Mobei-jun leaned closer to watch, unblinking as Shang Qinghua sat in front of the mirror and sectioned off layers to stick his extension strips to.
Five years of practice and impatient martial brothers had perfected the daily chore.
It took him less than five minutes to have the entire set of extensions stuck into place and blended into his real hair. Down to his elbows once again, and, with a painted rune to keep it lightweight in addition to the one that kept it sticking all day, it didn't have the annoying weight of real hair this length.
Extensions, so convenient.
"See? Now it is long again." Shang Qinghua pinched a section of extensions between fingers and thumb and held it aloft, giving it a shake.
Mobei-jun grabbed a fistful of Shang Qinghua's hair and gave it a yank. What an asshole!
"Came off." He held up the extension he had ripped off like it affronted him personally.
Shang Qinghua rubbed at his head. The extension itself hadn't hurt coming off, separating from his scalp with its usual harmless tingle, but Mobei-jun pulled on his real hair too. That didn't come off, thankfully. Ouch, shit. That hurt.
"It does not withstand a certain level of force. That is why I wear it up in a bun. Easier to avoid being grabbed and pulled."
"Mn."
Curiosity satisfied, Mobei-jun went back to being disinterested, tossing the extension at his chest. Shang Qinghua fixed his hair and reapplied the extension.
Mobei-jun seemed to like his hair the most when the extensions were left out and often ordered him to remove them whenever he showed up.
The ends were very fun to play with. Shang Qinghua could sympathize.
His fascination when shown how easy it was to create voluminous styles with shorter hair was also relatable. It wasn't what Shang Qinghua expected to bond with him over, but he would take what he could get.
After noticing several years later that Shang Qinghua did have to trim his hair to keep the ends from growing out soft and floofy, Mobei-jun took the blade from his servant's hand without waiting for permission and cleaned up the back, evening it out with unfair ease and giving him a straight line for the first time since his trims began. No more triangle or uneven curve!
The demon then pocketed the hair trimmings, which was a little weird in Shang Qinghua's opinion. It was weirder that he put them in a clear jar and proceeded to stare at them and shake the jar aggressively to make them float around like fake snow in a snowglobe.
Mobei-jun put the jar in his room and everything, right next to his bed in his opulent palace bedchamber.
"I can throw that out, my king." Shang Qinghua pointed at the trash.
"No. Mine." The temperature dropped, unnecessarily dramatic.
"..." Okay. Whatever. No need to glower at him.
"Every six weeks."
"...yeah."
"Mm."
"Wait, you're not going to start trimming this servant's hair for him, are you?" Because that would be insane.
"Mine," Mobei-jun repeated, like that explained anything, back to fiddling with the blunt fluff at the bottom of his human's long bob, periodically shoving his fingers up along his scalp and giving the short hair a rude yank.
He really did show up, six weeks on the dot, to trim off a perfectly even quarter inch from the bottom of his hair, and add the trimmings to his collection. Shang Qinghua had questions. Shang Qinghua had complaints. Shang Qinghua didn't need him to show up every six weeks to cut his hair. Who is the servant here?
But honestly?
Mobei-jun did a great job trimming his hair. Five star review. You're missing your calling as a hairstylist, my king. Good on you for getting a hobby.