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The rhythmic clack-clack of wooden swords against each other droned in Shen Qingqiu’s ears, threatening to give him a headache. He swept through the small crowd of disciples, irritation rising with each imperfection he saw. A quick reprimand was enough warning for some, causing them to straighten up and fix their form, but others would need to be held back after the drill was over.

The past week had been more or less peaceful with Yue Qingyuan away from the sect for some meeting with Tian Yi Overlook. Not that the man dared to bother Shen Qingqiu more than once a week anyway, but there was a sense of comfort in knowing he couldn’t. 

All good things must come to an end, though—something that was immediately proven when Shen Qingqiu spotted none other than Yue Qingyuan himself emerging from the bamboo-laden path onto the training field. When did he get back? Did he at least stop by Qiong Ding Peak, or did he come straight to Qing Jing just to pester Shen Qingqiu?

Yue Qingyuan spotted him and smiled widely—which was already startling enough—and hurriedly made his way over to him. Mindful of the fact that they were in front of his disciples, Shen Qingqiu gave a respectful salute. “Zhangmen—”

“Xiao-Jiu, will you marry me?”

The entire field fell silent. 

Stunned, still holding his salute, and half-sure he must be hallucinating, Shen Qingqiu could only say, “What?”

Yue Qingyuan grasped his hands. “You have always been the most important thing in my life, and I want nothing more than to make you happy. Please, will you marry me?”

His hands felt warm and real against Shen Qingqiu’s, and that was enough to pull his mind back into his body. This was no dream or illusion. They were still in front of his disciples, who were all staring in wide-eyed shock at the spectacle. Flustered, he ripped his hands from Yue Qingyuan’s grip. “Have you gone insane?!”

“Not at all,” Yue Qingyuan said. His gaze was earnest and intense. “In fact, I think my mind is the clearest it’s ever been. Nothing matters more than you, Xiao-Jiu, and I want to spend the rest of my life making up for my mistakes. Will you—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Yue Qingyuan’s expression dropped into an actual pout. Did he not realize what a fool he was making of himself right now? He must have been drugged with something—a substance that made him express the exact opposite of his actual thoughts and feelings. Why else would he say any of this?

“Those nuns have some nerve drugging our sect leader like this,” Shen Qingqiu muttered.

“Oh, they didn’t do this.” Yue Qingyuan gave him a smile that seemed like it was meant to be reassuring. It wasn’t. “I had a mishap with some strange flowers on my way back.”

“And you didn’t go straight to Qian Cao Peak?!”

“I wanted to see you first.”

A chill ran down Shen Qingqiu’s spine, and he had to fight off a shudder. Now that Yue Qingyuan mentioned it, he did notice a light dusting of what may be silver pollen on his shoulders, which had blended in with the silver stitching of his robes at first. There were some plants capable of killing even a man as powerful as Yue Qingyuan within hours, and he had wasted time coming here instead of seeking treatment? Infuriated at the thought of Yue Qingyuan escaping into death so easily, Shen Qingqiu grasped his arm and tried to haul him off to Qian Cao Peak himself.

It was like trying to move a brick house. 

Shen Qingqiu rounded on him. “Have you lost all sense?” he hissed. “Do you wish to die?”

“I only wish to marry you,” Yue Qingyuan whined. Whined! The great sect leader of Cang Qiong Mountain, the mighty Xuan Su sword, whining in front of all and sundry! As it was, the gossip was bound to spread across the entire sect by morning. By the time he was cured of this substance—and he would be cured, because Shen Qingqiu wasn’t going to let him die on him like this—Yue Qingyuan would be lucky to have any face left! 

Hm.

It could be quite beneficial to be able to lord something like this over Yue Qingyuan in the future. His guilt already caused him to treat Shen Qingqiu favorably, for the most part, but it never hurt to have more leverage. It wasn’t as though any of this was real; going along with it for now could do well to drive in the regret later, once Yue Qingyuan came back to his senses.

“Fine,” Shen Qingqiu said, lifting his chin. “I will marry you.”

He ignored the sound of a few swords dropping into the dirt.

It was Yue Qingyuan’s turn to look stunned. “You— What?”

“Did you not hear me?”

“I did. I…” Yue Qingyuan took his hands again, and Shen Qingqiu resisted the urge to pull away. “Xiao-Jiu, do you really mean it?”

“Stop calling me that,” Shen Qingqiu snapped. “And of course I mean it; why else would I say such a thing? But I have conditions.”

“Of course! Anything Xiao-Jiu wants, he shall have.”

He said that, but he was still calling him Xiao-Jiu. Shen Qingqiu put it aside for now. He drew himself up to his full height—which was still annoyingly short compared to Yue Qingyuan—and endeavored to look down his nose at him.

“First, you must go to Qian Cao Peak.”

“—second only to how bamboo-green robes compliment his skin tone,” Yue Qingyuan chattered away in his seat. Mu Qingfang only gave a distracted hum of acknowledgement, too focused on his task, while Shen Qingqiu had long since given up on telling Yue Qingyuan to stop talking.

It had been like this the entire way here. Yue Qingyuan had insisted—practically begged—that Shen Qingqiu accompany him, only to drone on and on with inane compliments and repeated questions about if Shen Qingqiu really wanted to marry him. As though Shen Qingqiu was the one liable to take it back. Every false word from Yue Qingyuan’s mouth angered him more and more; he had been very tempted to put a silencing spell on him. That would be counterintuitive to the examination, though, since most of his symptoms pertained to speech.

“I really don’t enjoy being here, Mu-shidi,” Yue Qingyuan said. 

“Yes, this shidi is well aware,” Mu Qingfang replied dryly as he released Yue Qingyuan’s wrist. He took a spare cloth and blotted off some of the silver pollen from Yue Qingyuan’s shoulders before holding it up to examine, covering his own mouth and nose to prevent inhalation. After a few moments, he set it aside. “I believe I know which plant Zhangmen-shixiong had a run-in with. He shows all the symptoms of the Silver-Pollen Spontaneity Blossom—which also has natural patches all around the border between Tian Yi’s territory and ours, so it tracks.”

Shen Qingqiu frowned. “Spontaneity?”

“Mn, it drastically lowers one’s inhibitions and causes one to say or do the first thing that comes to mind. It’s often confused for a truth-telling substance, since blunt truths are typically what first comes to mind.”

Truth-telling? Shen Qingqiu’s frown deepened. “Mu-shidi must be mistaken.”

At the challenge to his medical authority, Mu Qingfang gave him a sharp look. “And what evidence does Shen-shixiong have to back his claim? Did something happen that this shidi is unaware of?”

Before Shen Qingqiu could respond, Yue Qingyuan spoke up, “I asked Xiao-Jiu to marry me.”

Mu Qingfang blinked at him.

“And he said yes!” 

Shen Qingqiu resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands.

“…I see,” Mu Qingfang said after a long moment, expression carefully blank. “Well, I’m quite sure of my diagnosis, Shen-shixiong, so I’m afraid congratulations are in order.”

Shen Qingqiu openly scowled at him before flicking his fan over his face. ‘Spontaneity’ substance or not, there was no way these were Yue Qingyuan’s true desires. Just because they were somehow the first things that popped into his head didn’t mean they were real. Once the pollen was cleared from his system, he would surely take all of this nonsense back. 

Speaking of which: “And how do we cure him?”

“That’s the thing,” Mu Qingfang said. “Since the behavioral changes are the only effect of the pollen, it’s considered harmless. Combined with the fact that it usually flushes itself out within a few hours…” He shrugged. “No one has seen fit to create a cure. Zhangmen-shixiong can only wait it out.”

“So it should flush itself out soon, then?”

“Usually,” Mu Qingfang reiterated. “It’s not impossible for the effects to last longer, and can vary depending on factors like build, health, and cultivation. The longest recorded case was almost two months.”

Shen Qingqiu dismissed his words outright. At Yue Qingyuan’s cultivation level, he refused to believe this would even last through the night, much less two whole months.

Yue Qingyuan did not recover overnight.

After the appointment on Qian Cao Peak, he had followed Shen Qingqiu back to Qing Jing like some sort of lost animal. When Shen Qingqiu snapped at him to go back to his own peak and do his job, Yue Qingyuan once again put on that wretched pout and said, “But I want to stay with you.”

What the hell was Shen Qingqiu supposed to say to that?!

Unwilling to risk Yue Qingyuan making an even bigger spectacle than he already had, Shen Qingqiu relented. Thus, Yue Qingyuan trailed behind him for the rest of the day while he did his own work. He was surprisingly unobtrusive—the nonsensical chatter gradually died down, and he seemed strangely content just to be near Shen Qingqiu. It was unnerving.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t bother him at all, though. Shen Qingqiu did his best to keep a distance from his hallmasters and disciples, lest they hear what his hanger-on thought of his ‘silky’ hair or ‘striking’ features. It was difficult enough hearing such things himself without others listening in.

Worst of all, though, was the way Yue Qingyuan kept asking about marriage. Repeating the question, checking if Shen Qingqiu was really sure.

Eventually, Shen Qingqiu snapped and rounded on him. “Do you trust me so little that you can’t take me at my word, even after asking so many times?”

Yue Qingyuan floundered, mouth opening and closing before he ducked his head with what looked almost like a blush on his cheeks. “No, it’s just…difficult to believe I could be so lucky…and that Qingqiu-shidi would find me deserving…”

Shen Qingqiu had no response to that.

He wasn’t sure what to make of any of it. Even after Mu Qingfang’s diagnosis, he found it difficult to believe that Yue Qingyuan’s impulsively-spouted words reflected his true feelings. But neither could he dismiss them as outright lies—especially not after so many times and with so much sincerity. Regardless, the one belief that Shen Qingqiu remained steadfast in was that Yue Qingyuan would return to his senses once he recovered, and remember what a terrible match Shen Qingqiu would make.

The sun had already set by that point, and Yue Qingyuan allowed himself to be kicked back to his own peak for the evening. Frazzled, Shen Qingqiu lay awake for most of the night despite how exhausted he was, only able to think about how Yue Qingyuan would return in the morning wearing a guilty expression, apologies spilling from him as he retracted everything.

Instead, the heavens seemed intent on making a fool of Shen Qingqiu. Yue Qingyuan did indeed show up on his doorstep, but with a beaming smile and a request to join him for breakfast. Shen Qingqiu was too stunned to do anything but allow it. 

Thus began their second day of ridiculousness.

Thanks to Shen Qingqiu’s outburst yesterday, Yue Qingyuan pivoted away from repeatedly asking if he was sure about marriage. Unfortunately, this only meant that his questions shifted towards actual planning. He asked if Shen Qingqiu had a preference regarding which season to hold the ceremony. Shen Qingqiu deflected by saying they should leave it up to a matchmaker. He asked if Shen Qingqiu had any requests for food served at the banquet. Shen Qingqiu said the traditional fare should suffice.

It only took a few questions for Shen Qingqiu to get fed up. None of these ‘plans’ would come to fruition anyway, right? As such, he may as well figure out where exactly this version of Yue Qingyuan would draw the line. Surely he would refuse something.

“I want our robes made from Celestial Silkworm silk.”

“Okay!”

“…You realize that’s sourced from the Demon Realm.”

“Mn, Shang-shidi has a few trade connections. He should be able to figure something out.”

…

“I changed my mind about the banquet. I want immortal shark fin soup.”

“As Qingqiu-shidi wishes!”

“And golden-pitted plum cakes.”

“I’m sure we can find the last few extant golden-pitted plum trees somewhere!”

…

…

“One of my betrothal gifts had better be a fan made of gold.”

“Yes, Shidi!”

“…And another made of starlight jade.”

“Of course, Shidi!”

…

…

…

Did this man not have a limit?! As the second day bled into a third, then a fourth, Shen Qingqiu did his best to come up with increasingly expensive and outlandish requests. But everything Shen Qingqiu asked for, Yue Qingyuan agreed to cheerily. It could almost make one think he was genuinely happy to do so. 

There was only one time when Yue Qingyuan hesitated. Shen Qingqiu had requested some decoration that he’d already forgotten the details of, other than specifying that he wanted it made entirely of gold and spirit stones. Yue Qingyuan blinked at him, then asked, “Are you…sure you want that?”

Shen Qingqiu arched a brow. “I requested it, didn’t I? Is there a problem?”

Yue Qingyuan stared at him for a long moment, and then smiled. “Of course not! Whatever Qingqiu-shidi wishes.”

At this point, Shen Qingqiu was seriously considering the possibility that Yue Qingyuan might have hit his head after getting pollened.

The days turned into a week, and then two, with no end in sight. Yue Qingyuan would show up on Qing Jing Peak some time in the morning, then proceed to trail after Shen Qingqiu all day with questions and compliments and chatter. It wasn’t all wedding-related—sometimes he just made idle conversation. Once, he startled a laugh out of Shen Qingqiu with a comment about the unfortunate facial hair on one of his hallmasters.

The entire situation was dreadful. They had both even missed this year’s disciple selection, despite how Ning Yingying had begged Shen Qingqiu for a new shidi or shimei. But Shen Qingqiu was too conscious of how Yue Qingyuan would likely conduct himself in front of so many people, and decided it would be better to skip altogether. It wasn’t as though either of them would have missed any great prospects.

Worse was the fact that Shen Qingqiu didn’t hate it. He didn’t mind Yue Qingyuan’s company and attention when it wasn’t steeped in guilt—when it seemed to stem from simply wanting to be near him. 

In fact, Shen Qingqiu was…starting to enjoy this. He woke up every morning with the knowledge that Yue Qingyuan would soon arrive with a smile, and then stick to his side throughout the day, until his head disciple arrived near dusk to practically beg his shizun to return to Qiong Ding and do some work before the day was up. It seemed the bulk of Yue Qingyuan’s duties had fallen onto Xin Weiyin’s shoulders while he slacked off on Qing Jing Peak. Shen Qingqiu thought the boy ought to appreciate getting a taste of his future workload.

Every day, Shen Qingqiu told himself this could be the day Yue Qingyuan recovered and realized what a fool he’d made of himself. Every day, Yue Qingyuan returned with that smile on his face. Every day, that small kernel of want that Shen Qingqiu failed to extinguish grew more and more.

The problem was that Yue Qingyuan was pleasant like this—cheery and conversational and eager to abide by Shen Qingqiu’s every whim. It was heady, to be the center of Yue Qingyuan’s attention in a way he hadn’t been since they were young. It was addictive.

It couldn’t last.

Yue Qingyuan was more trusting like this.

So much so that it was ridiculously easy to trick him onto Qian Cao Peak. It wasn’t until they arrived that he seemed to realize what was going on, and he turned to Shen Qingqiu with wide eyes.

“It has been nearly a month of this nonsense,” Shen Qingqiu cut off his questions at the pass. True, Mu Qingfang had said that the longest known record of the pollen’s effects had been two months, but Yue Qingyuan was a powerful cultivator and the leader of a sect. There was no reason why his affliction should persist unless something was wrong, and Yue Qingyuan may be inexplicably willing to ignore that fact, but Shen Qingqiu wasn’t.

Yue Qingyuan didn’t respond, instead lowering his head in silent acquiescence. He remained quiet the rest of the way to Mu Qingfang’s office.

After only a few moments of examining Yue Qingyuan’s qi, Mu Qingfang made a noise of surprise.

Shen Qingqiu straightened. “Have you found whatever’s preventing the pollen from clearing?”

“Well…” Mu Qingfang withdrew his hand, giving Yue Qingyuan a significant look. Yue Qingyuan didn’t quite meet his gaze, instead bowing his head. With a sigh, Mu Qingfang turned to Shen Qingqiu. “It seems that the pollen…is cleared from his system.”

Shen Qingqiu stared at him.

“Check again,” he said.

“Shen-shixiong…”

“Check. Again.”

“It’s true, Shidi,” Yue Qingyuan said. Mumbled, more like. His head was still bowed, hands clasped tightly in his lap like some scolded child.

Words failed Shen Qingqiu for a long moment. Eventually, all he could manage to scrape together was a rough, “How long?”

“The effects wore off…not long after leaving Mu-shidi’s office that day.”

That day. That day nearly a month ago. That very first day?!

Here Shen Qingqiu had initially hypothesized that Yue Qingyuan would recover overnight, but he had actually done so long before that! And then—what? Engaged in some ridiculous ruse? To what end?

Mu Qingfang cleared his throat. “Seeing as Zhangmen-shixiong is not actually in need of medical attention, this shidi will…go find some other patients.”

He left without waiting for an acknowledgement, not even making an attempt to shoo them out of his office.

Even when left alone, Shen Qingqiu had no idea what to say. He wanted to yell at Yue Qingyuan. He wanted to throttle him. For nearly a month, he had put up with this man’s shameless antics, only for it all to turn out to be some nonsensical farce. What was the point? To make a fool out of Shen Qingqiu? Yue Qingyuan looked more the fool with every action and word!

Or was he really so cruel as to dangle concepts of marriage and companionship and—and affection in front of Shen Qingqiu’s face, only for the sake of ripping it all away when it was revealed to be an act?

“Qingqiu-shidi, I…” Yue Qingyuan continued staring down at his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry,” Shen Qingqiu repeated woodenly. “You’re sorry?”

Belatedly, he realized this was the first time he’d heard Yue Qingyuan apologize in a month. When affected by the pollen—when pretending to be affected by the pollen—he’d forgone it altogether, instead smiling unrepentantly in the face of Shen Qingqiu’s irritation.

Something sharp hooked inexplicably in his chest.

“There’s no excuse for my actions,” Yue Qingyuan continued. “I was—selfish. I took advantage of your patience and graciousness—”

His what?

“—in the face of my seeming affliction. I was dishonest. I… Truthfully, I expected you to get fed up with me. I was waiting for it, and planned to back off accordingly when it happened. But then you…didn’t. And I, I found myself pushing. Seeing how much you would let me get away with, before…”

He failed to finish the sentence, daring a glance up at where Shen Qingqiu stood over him. Now, rather than a scolded child, he looked more like a kicked dog. Shen Qingqiu hadn’t even done anything to him yet.

His anger dwindled. Yue Qingyuan’s words didn’t sound like those of someone who had gleefully deceived Shen Qingqiu for the sake of it. But at the same time, he still couldn’t figure out what they actually meant.

“But why?” he demanded.

Yue Qingyuan averted his gaze. Shockingly, two spots of pink bloomed on his cheeks. “You were…more tolerant of my presence like that. And you even agreed to—” He swallowed. “Sometimes, I thought you might have…enjoyed my company.”

Shen Qingqiu’s breath stilled in his chest.

“I was selfish,” Yue Qingyuan repeated. He bowed his head again. “This shixiong apologizes for imposing on his shidi for so long. I understand now that you were merely enduring the situation in a way befitting your duties as a peak lord.”

He wasn’t, though. That was the whole problem—the fact that Shen Qingqiu hadn’t just been enduring Yue Qingyuan’s behavior. He had grown used to it—he had looked forward to it.

He had enjoyed it.

With a resigned sigh, Yue Qingyuan said, “This shixiong will oblige his shidi’s wishes and start making arrangements to cancel the wedding.”

“My wishes?” Shen Qingqiu choked out. That wasn’t right; Yue Qingyuan was the one who was supposed to want to call things off after he recovered—

After he…

But he had been faking the whole time.

The initial question had been spouted under the influence of the pollen, yes, but later—when Yue Qingyuan kept dogging him the rest of that first day, asking over and over if Shen Qingqiu was sure—there had been nothing influencing him then. And every day after that, when he kept coming back to do nothing more than spend time with Shen Qingqiu and plan their wedding. There had been no substance drawing bright smiles on his face or pulling compliments past his lips. Yue Qingyuan had just…wanted to do those things.

Had he always wanted to act that way? To shower Shen Qingqiu in affection and obey his every whim? To marry him?

“I know you were only indulging me when you agreed,” Yue Qingyuan said, interrupting his thoughts. “When you started making actual requests for the wedding, I thought that maybe…” He shook his head. “I would never make you feel obligated to abide by something you were essentially coerced into.”

Coerced. As though Shen Qingqiu had only agreed under duress.

“You,” he said, “are such a fucking idiot.”

Yue Qingyuan’s head snapped up, eyes wide with shock.

Anger and frustration shook through Shen Qingqiu’s body, tightening his grip until his fan cracked. “Do you truly think you could coerce me into anything?” he hissed. “Do you think my patience runs so deep that I was just indulging you for nearly a month?”

Speechless, Yue Qingyuan just gaped at him.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t stay in this room—if he did, he really would risk throttling the idiot sitting before him. 

“Don’t you dare cancel a thing,” he said, and then turned on his heel and left.

Shen Qingqiu strolled through Qiong Ding Peak’s main hall, sharp eyes examining everything around him in a way that made the nearby An Ding disciples sweat. They were putting the finishing touches on the decorations for tomorrow, and Shen Qingqiu was here for the final assessment.

Looking at everything now, at all the extravagant decorations he’d demanded, everything glittering with opulent luxury, he realized that he really…

Hated it. 

Who were these people holding such a gaudy wedding? Had Shen Qingqiu really demanded an ice sculpture containing flakes of gold? A fountain inlaid with spiritual stones? He couldn’t even remember requesting half of the things he saw in this room.

None of it was to his taste. None of it felt fitting for a wedding with Qi-ge. Why did Yue Qingyuan never tell him how insane some of his requests were?! Instead he’d just cheerfully agreed to everything, even after the game was up and he could have attempted at least a bit of pushback.

It had taken time and a few threats of violence to convince Yue Qingyuan that Shen Qingqiu was serious about going through with the wedding. That no, he wasn’t just doing this because he felt obligated, and yes, he did actually want to marry him. Yue Qingyuan had been so overjoyed by this that he nearly cried, which was a frightening concept.

Even after things were settled, Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help continuing to make his demands. Something within him itched to push, to seek out the line and toe it as much as he could, to risk crossing it if only to learn where it was.

Months and months of wedding planning and the slow, rocky mending of their relationship only revealed that Yue Qingyuan didn’t seem to have a line. Not when it came to Shen Qingqiu.

The concept had been gratifying at first, but now as he looked at the set-up for their wedding, he couldn’t help but wish Yue Qingyuan had pushed back on something.

“I-Is everything to Shen-shibo’s liking?” a quivering An Ding disciple asked.

Nothing was to his liking. Shen Qingqiu felt the urge to tell them to tear everything down. But then where would that leave them? The wedding was tomorrow.

“That banner is crooked,” he said, then turned and swanned out of the hall.

After the truth of Yue Qingyuan’s affliction was revealed, he’d had to start actually doing his own work again, instead of hanging around Shen Qingqiu all the time. This was fine with Shen Qingqiu, of course. If he found himself discovering more and more reasons to seek out his shixiong on Qiong Ding Peak—when he used to find any excuse to do the exact opposite—that was unrelated.

They couldn’t be glued to each other’s sides if the sect was to keep functioning. They especially weren’t supposed to see each other now, on the night before their wedding. This meant that when Shen Qingqiu sent Yue Qingyuan a summoning talisman, the latter arrived at his door looking panicked.

“Is something the matter?” he asked. His gaze scanned Shen Qingqiu as though checking for injury.

In lieu of an answer, Shen Qingqiu grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him inside. 

“If there’s an issue with—” Yue Qingyuan stopped short at the sight before him. 

The Bamboo House had been transformed, the clean and scholarly space now blanketed in soft reds and the warm glow of lanterns. At the low table in the center was a sealed wine jar and two cups.

“Shidi…” Yue Qingyuan turned to Shen Qingqiu, who had tucked his hands in his sleeves to keep from betraying his nerves. “What is this?”

Shen Qingqiu lifted his chin imperiously and ignored the rabbit-quick pace of his heart. “We’re getting married.”

Yue Qingyuan’s eyes widened. “But…tomorrow—”

“Do you take issue with doing things this way?”

For a long, dreadful moment, Yue Qingyuan didn’t respond. He gazed around the room again, taking in the spare pieces of red fabric that Shen Qingqiu had draped over things, the double happiness symbols he had inked out himself and hung on the walls. Everything was tidy and elegant, of course; Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t allow for a crude wedding even if it was so last-minute. When Yue Qingyuan finally met his gaze again, there was a small, awed smile on his face. 

“Of course not,” Yue Qingyuan said. After a beat of hesitation, he reached out and took Shen Qingqiu’s hand. “I would marry you in any way possible.”

Heat flooded Shen Qingqiu’s face at the same time that the tight knot in his chest uncoiled with relief. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away to grab a pile of fabric and shove it in Yue Qingyuan’s hands. “Then put this on.”

Yue Qingyuan unfurled the fabric to reveal a red robe. It was just a simple outer robe, paling in comparison to the elaborate multi-layered outfits they were supposed to wear tomorrow. It was all Shen Qingqiu could find on such short notice; he had his own to match, and considered himself lucky enough just to find ones that would fit them both.

A wide smile split Yue Qingyuan’s face as he looked at it. They parted to exchange their outer robes for the red ones, then returned to kneel at the table together. Together, they bowed to the heavens and earth. Neither had any known ancestors to speak of, so they turned to each other. The paranoia in Shen Qingqiu expected to see hesitation in Yue Qingyuan’s face, or perhaps even regret, but all he was met with was a blooming, radiant happiness. 

They bowed.

Shen Qingqiu then unsealed the wine jar and poured it out, and they took up their cups and wound their arms around each other’s. One of their arms was shaking. Shen Qingqiu refused to believe it was his own.

There was a strange combination of finality and anticlimax to the moment as they drank their crossed-cup wine. Shen Qingqiu wasn’t so naive as to think he would feel immediately different afterwards, but it was strange just how…himself he still felt as they set down their cups.

They were married now. Bound together. Yue Qingyuan couldn’t abandon him ever again. And if he tried, Shen Qingqiu would be well within his right to kill him for it. It was a comforting thought.

Yue Qingyuan didn’t look at all tempted to abandon him now. His expression was soft and tender, still full of awe as if he couldn’t believe this moment. Shen Qingqiu couldn’t quite believe it either.

“Husband,” he tested out.

Yue Qingyuan made a noise like the breath had been punched from his chest. 

Fighting back his amusement, Shen Qingqiu said, “Husband, aren’t you going to kiss me?”

He’d never seen Yue Qingyuan blush quite so deeply before. They’d held off on affection before this, nothing more than linked arms or the occasional hand-holding in private. Shen Qingqiu had been reluctant to allow anything more, on the off-chance that it might somehow make Yue Qingyuan change his mind.

He stayed utterly still as Yue Qingyuan’s hand came up to cup his cheek, and then he allowed himself to be drawn in. Yue Qingyuan’s lips were warm and sure and real against his own, assuring Shen Qingqiu that this was all actually happening, and wasn’t some bizarre dream. 

A thought occurred to him. His mind hadn’t strayed in this direction while making all these last-minute arrangements, but technically speaking, they were supposed to retire to the bridal chamber…

Before he could begin to think about how to broach the subject, Yue Qingyuan pulled back. “I should go…”

Shen Qingqiu jolted. “What?”

“It’s already quite late; if I’m meant to get everything canceled before tomorrow, then I need to get started.”

Oh. Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes. “Who said anything about canceling tomorrow?”

Yue Qingyuan blinked stupidly. “Didn’t we just get married…?”

“There were no witnesses, dummy. Besides, canceling tomorrow’s ceremony would only look suspicious, even if we say we already got married. We didn’t go through all the effort of making arrangements just to not use them.”

“I don’t understand,” Yue Qingyuan said. “Why do all of this, then?”

At that, Shen Qingqiu’s face heated. He stood in a huff and paced for a bit before whirling around and pointing an accusing finger at him. “It’s your fault!”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you! What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you keep letting me make such ridiculous demands for our wedding?! Why did you never point out just how—how gaudy everything was? Why didn’t you stop me? Did your spine fall out of your body?”

Yue Qingyuan gaped up at him. “I…thought you wanted those things.”

“I didn’t. I did. I—” Shen Qingqiu huffed. After a moment, he gave in to the urge to petulantly cross his arms and turn away. “It’s all too ridiculous. We’ll still have the ceremony tomorrow, but before that I wanted to… Does it only matter what I want? Was there nothing you wanted for the wedding?”

He refused to look at Yue Qingyuan, but he heard the rustle of fabric as he stood and slowly made his way over. A hand came to rest on his arm, and Shen Qingqiu allowed himself to be turned to face him. 

There was a hesitant smile on Yue Qingyuan’s face. “I already told you,” he said. “I would marry you in any way possible. The details of the wedding itself don’t matter to me, as long as you’re there.”

Something softened in Shen Qingqiu’s chest. He cleared his throat. “Still, you should have stopped me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of denying you anything you want.”

Yes, he’d made that very clear! Their stupid gaudy wedding said as much! Who were they, Huan Hua Palace?

“Anything I want?”

“Anything.”

Shen Qingqiu hummed in thought. Then, he carefully looped his arms around Yue Qingyuan’s neck and pressed close, stopping just short of kissing him. “Stay the night.”

He watched understanding dawn on Yue Qingyuan’s face, immediately followed by a bright blush. “I, uh. O-Okay.”

All that endless chattering while he was falsely afflicted, and this was the best response he could come up with now? What an idiot.

Shen Qingqiu kissed his idiot husband.

Yue Qingyuan couldn’t stay the full night, unfortunately. He had to sneak out in the early hours of the morning before anyone showed up and found out the two of them had slept together ‘before’ their wedding.

There was a sense of surreality to everything as Shen Qingqiu got ready. Today’s robes were heavy with all their extravagant layers, nothing like what he’d worn last night. Once he was fully dressed and turned to the mirror, he almost didn’t recognize himself.

He was getting married. He was already married.

The day continued from there, his procession making its way to Qiong Ding Hall and its stupid, gaudy decorations. As ridiculous as it all was, though, there was a comfort in seeing it. Here was proof of the lengths Yue Qingyuan was willing to go to in order to make him happy. Here was proof of how far the two of them had climbed, no longer two dirt-covered children on the streets.

…If only it looked less tawdry. 

Shen Qingqiu made the right call in having a more private ceremony last night, just for the two of them, but he was also glad for the public spectacle. There had been plenty of rumors about the motivations behind their joining, but there was no denying the adoration on Yue Qingyuan’s face the moment he laid eyes on Shen Qingqiu. Not even Shen Qingqiu himself could deny it.

As they repeated the ceremony they had already done, Yue Qingyuan shot him a quick, sly smile. Shen Qingqiu fought down his own amusement, refusing to be anything but elegant in front of others.

And then it was done. They were married now, twice over, in front of the whole sect and other prominent attendees from the cultivation world. Bound together by an oath more concrete than anything from their sullied past, with the rest of their lives stretched out before them.

Never to be parted again.