Chapter Text
Shang Qinghua was the creator of this world, and so he knew many parts of it, but there were still things that happened that he could never account for. Cause and effect or minor stray lines of lore written in desperation for money or during the drag of sleep. They happen from time to time, catching him by surprise, but never a cause for concern...
But now, this small fact has brought him unwaivable grief.
It began after a day of court in the Northern Kingdom when this afternoon’s attendees scattered to the wind with quick shuffling and mumbled chatter, anxious to not overstay their welcome after a quick and curt dismissal from the reigning King of the Northern Desert.
Shang QInghua was an exception to this rule, and always waited for the room to be clear so he could quickly describe the happenings drawn at court hearings, remind the King of important matters that came forward, and being all the little notes he added of his own wisened opinion. He was his King's head adviser, after all. As per usual, Shang Qinghua climbs up to stand next to the throne and immediately starts to list off the many things that was still on the agenda, most of them the usual hindrances and pleas, with the occasional marriage offering, and the slow trek of settling trade bargains between the ever-shifting borders of lesser demonic clans.
But as Shang Qinghua spoke, he noticed his King happened to be distracted, humming occasionally but looking at Shang Qinghua closely. His mind was clearly elsewhere, an unusual occurrence for his King, who was so down-to-earth and perceptive.
“Is something the matter?” he asks when he sees the crease in Mobei-Jun’s brow was a little tighter than usual, forcing the trusted adviser to hold back the urge to smooth it with his thumb. If he did that, he's pretty sure he would be nursing a broken finger or a sizable lump on his head.
“Nothing terribly urgent," Mobei-Jun mutters, clearly making an attempt to underhand an issue.
“My King, this one is here to aid you in whatever is needed,” Shang Qinghua smiles and rolls up the day’s report. "Please, tell me what you may be thinking so intensely on?"
"Is Qinghua well? Nothing amiss?"
"...Yes, I am well?" Shang Qinghua blinks.
Mobei-Jun sighed, “I see."
"Is something burdening my King? Usually, you do not ask such things."
"This King is stressed." Mobei-Jun sat up straight on his throne. "It has come to this one's realization that we must make preparations soon. You should be in good health, as it will grow busy soon. Qinghua needs to send envoys out to the nearest clans, and then the ones bordering those. Spread the word across the Empire..."
“Ah, yes, right away my King, but this one must ask why? Are we looking for something that the other clans may have?” Shang Qinghua asks, curious. “Trades have been going well, my Lord, and we are well secured in funding. If my King is looking for a treasured item, there is no shortage of goods we can use to obtain it. And this one has an exceptional knowledge of artifacts, so I may be able to help personally.”
Mobei-Jun regards him for a moment, face mindful of his adviser's many talents, and the loyalty that has persisted long before and after Mobei-Jun consolidated his rule. “Yes, you do have a knack for knowing where things are.”
Shang QInghua would sweat at that if Mobei-Jun hasn’t already mentioned this before, nor exploited it for his personal gain time and again. Mobei-Jun knows he is a ‘scholar who has a liking to interesting and powerful items’. In all reality, it was just meta-knowledge, but Shang Qinghua kept up the appearance of a sagely cultivator to hide his tendency to know things that he really shouldn't! “Indeed, I am! What is it I can help you with? Or these envoys, I suppose?”
“We are looking for a person.” Mobei-Jun straightens in his seat.
“Oh, that is not beyond my scope, this one is most knowledgeable in powerful and influential beings that roam both the realms-”
"This King is looking for his Heavenly Mate."
Shang Qinghua swore he heard shattering glass in his own head. It was probably his brain.
The End was supposed to be simple and peaceful. It is what Shang Qinghua deserved – to be rid of worry, the hanging plots of death and destruction from his original novel smoothed out into a soft, scenic ocean. And yet, here he was, blankly staring at Mobei-Jun as the King sat upon his throne, mind reeling over the words Heavenly Mate .
"An unfortunate surprise," Mobei-Jun says.
Shang Qinghua's mouth was dry, his eyesight doubling. He was almost dry-heaved, but thankfully, his shock response was to stand as still as he could.
Mobei-Jun stares at him. "Qinghua, are you listening?"
"Y-yes, this one is listening!" He manages to speak without his voice trembling too much.
Mobei-Jun sighs again, as though it is an inconvenience and not such a heavy matter. “Yes. I can feel the link between my soul and another’s has formed due to… an unfortunate mistake on my behalf. My Heavenly Mate must be found soon… tsk, pay attention when this one is speaking."
"I– sorry, this, this is merely a surprise for me."
"Qinghua is shocked?”
There was no light way to say that Shang Qinghua feels as though he’s had ice-cold water dumped on him and it froze over. Shang Qinghua had, honest to Gods, forgotten about the Heavenly Mate thing.
It was a mere write-in piece of lore for some wife, around chapter 2300, when he was running out of ways to bolster his Protagonist further. He made a flimsy excuse of an enhancer in the form of a wife, named the Heavenly Mate , along with some bullshit about how every Heavenly Demon, when the time comes, must undergo a ritual and choose a Heavenly Mate – however if a Heavenly Demon does not undergo the traditional ritual of creating the bond with another, some form of grand power deigned the most suitable person for you. This happened in the original – Luo Binghe had whisked up some random demon princess who was crowned as his divined Heavenly Mate, and with her on his hip, got another grotesque power up to beat up antagonist-of-the-week, as it bound two beings' souls together with fate and destiny.
It was, ultimately, a butchered-up version of the soulmate trope.
(He still remembers Cucumber-bro’s scathing critique. He can even hear it in his voice now; “Seriously, you dumbfuck author? When I thought you couldn’t scrape the bottom of the trope barrel anymore, you dip your little fingers in soulmates? The literal antithesis to the purpose of a harem? Wow, and you butchered it too. Great idea, why not make one of the best tropes of all time be potent slog like the other tropes you’ve carelessly slapped around for another poor wife for Binghe to collect!” Really, Cucumber, a hand to you for that one.)
Shang Qinghua vaguely remembers Shen Qingqiu complaining about this matter to him some time ago, but it was shuffled into the many complaints the man has about the grotesque amount of wife plots he gets wrapped up in. At the time, Shang Qinghua brushed it to the side when Shen Qingqiu complained about some sort of ritual , a mark , and an OP protagonist plot.
Now, he wishes he paid a bit more attention because he could have then foreseen this.
You see, a not-very-well-known fact of Mobei-Jun is that he does have Heavenly Demon ancestry in him. How could he not? He was such a grand lord, the right-hand man to Luo Binghe! Canonically, the Mobei Clan was a long and ancient lineage that had its start with a grand Heavenly Demon. After many generations, its potency was watered-down and is a far shot from Luo Binghe’s half-blood status, but it is still enough for some cliche Heavenly Demon powers to be passed along to him.
This "Heavenly Demon Ancestry" must have kicked into high gear after Mobei-Jun absorbed his father’s legacy as the rightful heir and got a huge power boost like he was in trashy level-up anime and used a dues-ex-machina to get enough juice to finish off the bad guy. (The bad guy being Linguang-Jun, after Shang Qinghua’s embarrassing runaway stunt.)
But… how come this is happening now, when he never wrote it into his novel–
"Qinghua." Mobei-Jun's voice pierced Shang Qinghua's inner dialogue of rambling ideas and concepts
"Huh-? Ow!" He lurches away when he gets pinched by claws to bring him back to the present.
"You are thinking too much," Mobei-Jun growls his displeasure at seeing his adviser off on one of his many thought trains.
“Ahaha- uh- right, my King has not mentioned this connection before? I did not know you had a… Heavenly Mate." Shang Qinghua had to swallow a lump in his throat when mentioning such a thing. His entire body felt rigid!
"Well, I do." Mobei-Jun stands to make his exit, cloak sweeping the ground as he takes long strides down the steps of the throne and through the court hall. Shang Qinghua hastily follows, proficient in the brisk pace needed to keep up with Mobei-Jun’s lengthy strides. “It was unintentional that it was brought upon some random person, but it cannot be helped. It was an a–"
"Are you going to marry them?" He blurts out.
Mobei-Jun pauses and stares at Shang Qinghua, his eyes dark and hungry. "... This King will eventually marry his Heavenly Mate."
"Oh… ahah, that…that may be for the best, huh? It would help alleviate some work." Shang Qinghua briefly checked his report for the tiny place he jots down all of the 'offers' other clans dump on him. It's a section Shang Qinghua has a great distaste for, but not nearly as much as Mobei-Jun, who looks ready to tear off any demon's head at the first utterance of 'may I present the fair and beautiful daughter of this or that clan' . They were persistent.
"Tsk. It is about time I silence those insects with their useless offers. The sooner you bring my current Mate, the better. The faster this may be fixed…”
Shang Qinghua bites his tongue, a feeling tingling him all over. He assumes it is from his ill feeling he gets from the idea of all this. “Yes. Of course. This one will do as his King asks, and ensure success.”
Mobei-Jun grins, sinister and small, one of the few times he allows himself to display emotion. The sight is rather quite scary. "Good. Soon, I will Obtain what I deserve…" Mobei-Jun mutters under his breath.
A chill runs down Shang Qinghua's spine and he ducks his head. "This one will send the search out in the morning," he says with a carefully-chosen flat voice despite feeling as though a rock has made a home in his gut.
Mobei-Jun continues walking with Shang Qinghua on his tail, feeling a growing numbness that soon, Mobei-Jun would be…
What, unobtainable? Finally betrothed, and allowed a fulfilling partner and the potential for heirs?
Shang Qinghua should be excited, but –
"Qinghua."
"Uh?" He nearly runs straight into Mobei-Jun, but catches himself and only fumbles a little. His King had stopped on their path and Shang Qinghua did not realize. "Yes?"
"It is Friday."
"...Oh. Oh!" Shang Qinghua realizes. He finally looks around and finds that he had followed Mobei-Jun all the way to the kitchens, too shocked to gather his surroundings. "It's noodle day!"
"Yes. So do not look so distraught while you eat, or I will think that you aren't properly appreciating this King's superior cooking," Mobei-Jun vaguely threatens at him, but Shang Qinghua can see the edge of a pout on the downturn of Mobei-Jun's lips.
"I would never, my King!" he says quickly. "The week passed so quickly, I didn't realize it! I could have sworn it was Wednesday…"
Mobei-Jun huffs, "You question this King?"
"No, no, of course not, I ah, can't complain if my King is going to be treating me," Shang Qinghua says sheepishly. "Uhm- can we have dessert too?"
"...The cooks will see to that."
In the end, Shang Qinghua was right, it was Wednesday, and yet he went to bed with a full stomach and eased shoulders because Mobei-Jun saw his distress, and knew Shang Qinghua better than all others.
He rolled around in his bed, silently hopeful that even when Mobei-Jun obtains this Heavenly Mate, things would never change between them. After all, one person could not replace him so easily. He is the one Mobei-Jun is closest to, save for Luo Binghe.
And even then, Shang Qinghua knows deep down, Mobei-Jun would choose him first above all others.
Until… until now, he realizes.
Doubt skews itself in an intricate, tight weave across his mind and heart. They are not stitches to heal him, but stitches to cause great pain with the needle of fear piercing him over and over.
Shang Qinghua realizes that he could be easily replaced, and that is something he has not felt in a long, long time.
The first week was tedious and draining. At the first wave of news sent out that Mobei-Jun was looking for his Heavenly Mate, there was no limit to how many people came crawling with false sureties and fake marks, claiming to fit the role in hopes of power.
Shang Qinghua was tasked to filter the absurd number of claims. After all, there was only one, and with fifty people showing up in the first week, at least forty-nine must be lying. Needless to say, each time he brought someone up to test if they were Mobei-Jun's Mate, Shang Qinghua watched Mobei-Jun send them off with a displeased frown and flick of his hand. And each time, Shang Qinghua felt a little more guilty at the relief that each one wasn't actually who they claimed to be.
It is awful, he knows. He should be happy that Mobei-Jum will be able find someone to quickly quiet those annoying elders who tout on about a Queen and all the foreign propositions of marriage; not to mention, this person will strengthen Mobei-Jun while having perfect compatibility.
Shang Qinghua feels loathsomely depressed.
He thought for a long time, somewhere deep down, that it would be just him and Mobei-Jun. They were closer than any other, as they have rested their lives in each other's hands time and time again. A wordless trust was formed between them. A bond. A need.
A need that Mobei-Jun can find in someone else, determined by fate. The fate that Shang Qinghua created with his own two hands.
Ahh, he thinks. This must be my true punishment for all my misdeeds in my former life. I really should have recycled more or done proper charity work, huh?
Shang Qinghua thinks these thoughts in a melancholy, abstract way as he works these days, filtering the many demons and humans alike who come to posture themselves before him with fake tattoos. Even with the time spent filtering through most of the candidates, the number was exhausting and ever-mounting. It was as though rumors fed into desperation! The eligible King of the North, looking for his Mate, and that it could be anyone who bears his mark! Augh!
It ate into their time greatly and urgency began to go underway. Sometimes his king would take one glance, scoff, and send them away for a new one to come stumbling in. They only did so many in a day, as Mobei-Jun still had a Kingdom to rule, but it still took ridiculously long. Due to this, they did not spend as much time together. It taxes Shang Qinghua, in a way he hasn't felt since his days as of having a double life in the demon realm and on Cang Qiong, in his prime spycraft years. He has been far from his King many times in their long history, especially with his peak responsibilities, but that had always been physical. Now the gap seems greater than ever, piercing him mentally, as though there is a deficiency. Shang Qinghua slips into an annoyed state, becoming snappy at the servants and guards with each order, just wishing this whole thing could be over with.
When he lays down to sleep each night, he is often restless, tossing and turning and wondering what Mobei-Jun was doing. Was he thinking of his Mate? Thinking of them as his Queen? How they will solve all that burdens him? Perhaps Mobei-Jun was just as restless as Shang Qinghua, with a grave pit of knowing his destined one was out there, just out of reach?
By the second week, Shang Qinghua feels bone tired, trudging through his usual duties along with the slowly-waning numbers of "Mates" that have traveled to the Northern Desert. Eventually, instead of meeting and interviewing each possible one, he ends up lining them up and picking out the most plausible ones, and bringing them in a bunch to Mobei-Jun at the same time. His King expressed his preference for this method, as it lightened their mutual workload, but it did not make the frustration any easier. Mobei-Jun often slammed his fist against his throne and banished each batch from his sight, seething more from the lack of progress, and Shang Qinghua stands next to him, wilting, at each fruitless bunch leading to the next.
Eventually, Shang Qinghua longs for this person who will inevitably replace him, just to soothe the pain of the divide that it brought. Shang Qinghua wants to once more see his King at ease.
It takes three weeks for Mobei-Jun to finally snap. At the failed batch of candidates 273 to 278, he all but grabs Shang Qinghua and sinks his claws into his arm, disregarding the great wince of pain that it flashes on his servant's face. "Enough of this! Utterly unfathomable – none you have brought to me are the Heavenly Mate, Qinghua! Are you even trying?"
"What- of course I am! How could I not? I have to go through so many, all of them faking or delusional!"
"And what if you turned away my Mate already because of this? Look at this lot," Mobei-Jun angrily gestures to the five bachelors and bachelorettes lined up, all from far corners of different clans and with sloppily made tattoos mimicking Mobei-Jun's mark somewhere on their forehead, hands, or another obscure place that they reveal to Shang Qinghua. "These are the best you could bring me? The quality is only worsening! You can't fathom that these would be my Mate!"
Shang Qinghua set his jaw tighter and clenched his fists. His arm hurt in Mobei-Jun's grip, reminding him of the harsh hands his King used to lay on him. This hasn't happened for many years, but now it brings an icy loss to Shang Qinghua's heart, as perhaps this will return when they end up drifting apart further from the Mate's presence in Mobei-Jun's life.
He tempered the pain quickly with a deep breath. "Yes, my King… This lowly servant will be more careful with his poor selection skills."
Mobei-Jun scoffs and releases Shang Qinghua. Then, he sent off the line of suitors with a fierce snarl that makes everyone, including Shang Qinghua, flinch.
Both sat for some time in silence, before Mobei-Jun hangs his head. "They are close. It can be felt inside of me. Set a bounty, since clearly they are not willing to come to me under their own discretion."
Shang Qinghua sighs, and agrees, turning to one of the nearby servants and having them fetch his scrolls and inks to properly fashion a bounty with an obscene amount of treasure. With an added clause of risk of imprisonment for liars and con men.
Then he left Mobei-Jun to stew, knowing his presence would only cause more anger to well inside the demon. Shang Qinghua went to the dining room where they often ate dinner together, knowing it was safe to wait there until Mobei-Jun came to him.
So, he waited. And waited a little more, until he fetched a servant and they told him that Mobei-Jun already retired.
It was Friday, but Mobei-Jun went to bed early. Shang Qinghua sadly ate what the cooks gave him, mourning the lack of freshly made, hand-pulled noodles. Although, if Mobei-Jun did make them, they would surely be bitter and molded with ire, and so the entire bowl would just remind Shang Qinghua of this utter disaster.
So, he grabs a jar of spirits from the cellars and goes to Cucumber-Bro and whines at him to let him in.
It works, and Cucumber was kind enough to send Luo Binghe off (not without casting a foul look at Shang Qinghua) so that he could hear the plights of his most cursed-at author. Shen Qingqiu knew a decent amount of the situation already, of course – word catches fast.
"You know, I had never thought that Mobei-Jun had a Heavenly Mate," Shen Qingqiu notes, drinking tea rather than the alcohol Shang Qinghua had brought. "I knew he had some ancestors that were Heavenly Demons. But you never gave him a Mate after his canon ascension."
"I know – ugh, I more than know, I intended it that way, he wasn't supposed to get a Mate. I mean, it goes against canon completely! Ahh, this sucks… this really sucks."
Shen Qingqiu snorts and Shang Qinghua takes another long drink. "It's too bad it was randomly chosen. Binghe chose me for his Heavenly Mate, and ah… well, the ritual was interesting."
Shang Qinghua gives him a bland look over his cup, but at least Shen Qingqiu was company that wouldn't look at him with eyes lit with indignation. "I could have told you that. I wrote the damn thing… What makes this world so different? Why does Mobei-Jun get one?! It's salt in my wounds!"
"Ask your shitty world-building. Aiyah, can't even do soulmates right? You know that they're supposed to be an 'at birth' kind of thing and not so randomly occurring or picked? Shit ass author."
"Can you not reprimand me while I'm going through the five stages of grief that my dream man is about to find his perfect match," Shang Qinghua laments and then swallows down another cup. He quickly pours again. "Fuck… We may need another bottle soon.
"Hm."
"This is so stupid, honestly! And we're nowhere closer to finding them! I've had to go through so many liars it's ridiculous! Ah, and now Mobei-Jun is fed up with me… Shit, he was so angry. This really is the worst feeling, bro."
"Huh…"
"And he keeps going on about how they're close by , and time is of the essence , and all that shit. Honestly, if they're so close, why doesn't he find them himself?! He could go looking for it himself if he wants his soulmate so bad…"
"Qinghua, the mark just has to be on them?"
"Well- sure, if I remember right…" he thinks back on the og wife. He had put her soul mark on her pelvis, right below her stomach. A lot of people dig that sort of thing. "I mean, where is yours?"
"The back of my neck," Cucumber says. "Hey, stick out your tongue."
"My tongue? The fuck?"
"Just do it, idiot, before I yank it out for you."
Shang Qinghua rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue, doing it as meanly as he can.
Shen Qingqiu's face twitches, fashioned in a side smirk. "Heh. You're really an idiot."
Shang Qinghua sucks his tongue back in and grows suspicious. "What? Did you do something to my tongue? This isn't a joke, right? Look, I know you were real upset about the dragon joke I made the other day, but now is not the time to–"
"No, for fucks sake, shut up," Shen Qingqiu stands and goes to his vanity in the cottage to pick up a hand mirror. He sits next to Shang Qinghua and drops it in his lap. "Look for yourself."
Shang Qinghua wobbles, feeling his inebriation and skepticism in equal measures, but picks up the mirror and sticks his tongue out again at his reflection. He did not see it at first. However, after studying for a handful of seconds, he noticed a strange shape on the flat of his tongue. Darker than the pink of the flesh, purplish-blue and in sweeping strokes, it lay there. The more Shang Qinghua stares the clearer it becomes.
The mark of the Mobei Clan, branded cleanly on the center of his tongue.
He looks long and hard before Shen Qingqiu nudges him. "Hey! You're spacing out."
He drops the mirror. "What the fuck? Am I cursed?"
Finally, Shen Qingqiu smacks him on the back of the head for his stupidity, and with a glare, he says, "No, that's the Heavenly Mate's mark, you fool! Can't you comprehend something simple? You're his Mate!"
"Oh," Shang Qinghua says dumbly. "... Oh. "
"You see? All this frustration for nothing! You're lucky I'm so observant about these things and you can't shut up. Honestly, how has he not seen it with how much you blab– hey!" Shen Qingqiu tries to wrestle the drink from Shang Qinghua's hand. "I just told you your 'dream man' is your borderline soulmate, and you immediately go in for another drink!"
"I really need a drink right now!"
"Oh quit your moping!"
"Last I checked it's my own alcohol, so I can drink it if I want!"
"And this is my house so-"
Some elbows and knees come into play, and before long, they're both splashed with the stench of wine and fighting for the cup, doing petty maneuvers to one-up each other in their sudden spat. They toss and kick and call each other names, and eventually, Shen Qingqiu goes straight for the jar itself, proclaiming he was going to dump it. Shang Qinghua immediately tackled him, both of them falling in a heap of limbs on the floor as Shang Qinghua squished his fellow transmigrator with a wheeze.
The door slams open, a gust of cold billowing in and settling quickly over the room. Shang Qinghua looks up from his place on top of Shen Qingqiu, his blurry vision focusing on the tall shape in the doorway with broad shoulders and that blank expression he is very fond of.
"Ah! My King, what're you doin' here?"
Mobei-Jun stomps in and grabs Shang Qinghua by the scruff of his skewed, wine-stained robes to haul him over his shoulder. Shang Qinghua kicks and flops his arms around, uselessly hitting his back. "Hey! Hey! That's rude!"
"You reek." Mobei-Jun notes with disgust. His voice rumbles through Shang Qinghua's body and the cultivator slumps to get closer rather than uselessly fighting, unable to stop giggling.
"I was jus' drinking a bit with my ol' buddy!" He reassures. "What, that not allowed or somethin'? Got the fun police over here!"
"Apologies for my intrusion and for his… behavior," Mobei-Jun says down at Shen Qingqiu, who is picking himself up and dusting off. The grip around Shang Qinghua tightens and he lets out a squeak. Mobei-Jun utters cryptically, "This one will correct it."
"He is just drunk," Shen Qingqiu sighs as he regains his own composure. "And was not happy that I decided to cut him off."
"I'm not drunk! I swear!"
"May Empress Shen and Junshang have a nice night." Mobei-Jun nods stiffly before there's a coolness that clings to Shang Qinghua's skin. Dark wisps begin to form.
"Uh- ahah, wait, if we teleport I think I'm going to throw-" But his caution is cut short as the cold shadow encompasses the pair to disorientingly travel back to the Northern Kingdom.
A sickness rolls in his stomach the moment that Mobei-Jun pulls them free of the turbulent shadow teleportation. Shang Qinghua almost hurls right there with a gag – he had never been very good at Mobei-Jun's preferred mode of travel, as convenient it may be.
"If you puke on me, you will live to regret it."
"Okay," he warbles, steadying himself, feeling more sobered. "Eugh- I'm good, I won't do that."
Mobei-Jun drags him off his shoulders like a bag of potatoes and drops down Shang Qinghua upon a cushioned bed with a grunt. Shang Qinghua blinks, dazed, and stares up at Mobei-Jun, unable to stop the smile from pulling at his mouth.
"We're stupid," he says. "Oh man- I'm so stupid," Shang Qinghua mumbles. Mobei-Jun grunts in acknowledgment as he begins to take off the smaller man with his boots. Shang Qinghua tries to help but he gets swatted away. "My Kinnng, I can undress myself!"
"I highly doubt that." Mobei-Jun pulls one shoe off and tosses it to the side.
"Ugh…fine, my King can undress me. But only this once okay? Can't do this sorta stuff outside marriage y'know."
Mobei-Jun can't help but shake his head with a soft chuckle as he pulls the second boot.
Shang Qinghua is appeased. He feels more at ease, with Mobei-Jun here, touching him, acting fond. He flops back on the bed and allows the demon to take care of his belt, which he lets out a long, satisfied sigh at when it comes free.
"Mobei," he tries.
"Hn."
"Mobei."
"Yes."
"Can I call you Mobei?"
"Some time ago, 'The formal title is most appropriate' is what Qinghua said to me when I asked if he would prefer to call me Mobei."
"Yeah- uh, I remember saying that, but sometimes… I really wanna call you Mobei. But doin' it in front of others is kinda… uhm. Personal."
"Qinghua can call this one by his name in private if he wishes." Mobei-Jun pulls away layers of robes, making Shang Qinghua shift and roll, squirming out of the uncomfortable fabric before falling back again. He sees Mobei-Jun look over his body, his eyes wandering slower than innocence would allow. Or perhaps it is only an inebriated imagination?
His King strips him down to just his pants, and Shang Qinghua sighs happily at the kiss of air against his skin, feeling a little sweaty, but the firm hands on him are like cool balms in a hot summer. Mobei-Jun moves him this way and that, and Shang Qinghua goes as demanded, flopping over while Mobei-Jun seems to search him.
"What're you doin'...?"
"Looking for something."
"For what?"
Mobei-Jun brings Shang Qinghua to sit straight. There's a brief ache that radiates from his arm. Shang Qinghua looks at where Mobei-Jun is gently holding the place where he had gripped Shang Qinghua harshly in anger earlier that day. The place is bruised in the vague shape of a handprint, the only saving grace of not having blood drawn from the demon's claws was the thick fabric that Shang Qinghua often wears.
"Oh. That is the only place I'm hurt, ah, I didn' do anything foolish while I was out. I'm uninjured."
"... I am sorry I did this."
Shang Qinghua is struck by the low, soft and informal tone.
"'S okay," Shang Qinghua says honestly. He decided to forgive Mobei-Jun quickly, as he always does. A habit he will never be able to shake, as the hopelessly devoted man he is. "It looks worse than it is. Ah, besides, my King is too used to communicating with demons' harsh actions. He is still learning about the sensitivity that humans have."
Mobei-Jun's look only turns fiercer, anger clenching his jaw and making his glare steely as he looks at where his hand is curled delicately around the injury he inflicted. "It is no excuse."
"Look at me," Shang Qinghua sighs, wishing his King wouldn't look so upset over something that should be put in the past. With his free arm, he put a hand on Mobei-Jun's cheek and turned him forward to meet eyes. "Why do you seem so sad?"
Mobei-Jun's entire being seemed to soften. "I only wish that Shang Qinghua would never bear an ill mark from me."
Shang Qinghua's heart throbbed with so many emotions at once that it ached, yet Shang Qinghua smiled through the pain. He dragged his hand up to selfishly brush his fingers over that blue symbol that blessed his King's forehead. Mobei-Jun took a breath and then fluttered his eyes shut, leaning into the touch.
Shang Qinghua's tongue feels like lead in his mouth.
"...And I wish you wouldn't have me look for your Mate anymore." It is a selfish request, one made so that Mobei-Jun would stop looking out to the vastness of the realm to find someone who may be as close as arms reach.
"If that is what Qinghua wishes."
"... Really?" He pulls away from the mark to push himself up, surprised by his King easily agreeing to a request Shang Qinghua merely uttered as wishful thinking. "I can… ask for that?"
Mobei-Jun levels him with a look he can't decipher. "Of course you can."
"But- I thought you believed that finding your mate was most important?"
"Because it was an accident." Mobei-Jun gets up and begins to prepare the bed for Shang Qinghua. "I realized, today, when I went to seek you out for noodles and found you fled with wine, that you…" Mobei-Jun paused, feeling poor with words. So, he says with simplicity but just as much gravity, "I hurt the one I promised to never hurt."
"It's fine! Ah, Mobei, do not worry it's-"
"It is unacceptable!" Mobei-Jun says lowly, bordering a growl. "My actions chased Qinghua away again. You promised you would never leave without telling, and yet this King's foolishness made Qinghua do so."
"'m sorry," he mumbles, and before he can stop himself, his vision blurs and wetness dews his eyelids. "I- I guess I didn't think about it, and you were mad that you couldn't find your mate, and that's my fault, so I… but I wasn't going to leave again, I wouldn't do that."
"I know," Mobei-Jun says simply and soothes his hands against Shang Qinghua's face. "I know… Qinghua need not look any longer. A Heavenly Mate does not matter." The touch is comforting, the natural coolness working against his burning skin from the many cups of spirit he's consumed.
Maybe Shang Qinghua should tell Mobei-Jun his discovery. He asks, "...You sure you don't want your Heavenly Mate?"
Mobei-Jun does not respond, but he rights himself to get Shang Qinghua settled into the bed by lying him on his pillow properly and dragging covers and furs over the human.
After a long moment of tucking Shang Qinghua in, Mobei-Jun says: "No. To be bound to someone like that… it can only be… No, the Heavens and the Elders will not choose who I keep at my side."
"...Oh."
Shang Qinghua rolled his tongue against the roof of his mouth, feeling how sticky and dehydrated it was. It laid there, the mark that bound Mobei-Jun to him without his will. Concealed, inconspicuous, barely noticeable beyond the watchful eye.
Perhaps, it is good that Shang Qinghua is Mobei-Jun's Heavenly Mate. He willingly weathers heartbreak for Mobei-Jun. The King did not want a Mate in the end and Shang Qinghua will not force his King into such a relationship out of his own selfishness.
His eyes close as he thinks, thoughts washing between one thing and another, reaffirming that all of this was the case. He pays no mind when the bed dips next to him and a cool blanket presses against his body, heavy and unmoving. He turns and buries into it.
Shang Qinghua awakens in his bed, hungover and in vague recollection of yesterday. Some things are blurry, but most of it was there. The most prominent thing was his dawning horror, followed by regret. Despite his ill stomach, he picks himself up and stumbles to his vanity to peer into his reflection and stick out his tongue, reaffirming that the mark really was there, and he hadn't just thought it so in a drunken stupor.
Reality sinks into his bones.
He is Mobei-Jun's Heavenly Mate and an unwanted one at that. Of course, Shang Qinghua knows what must be done now — he needs to keep his mouth shut and find a way to take care of this problem without Mobei-Jun being any the wiser. His King was honest the night before, and Shang Qinghua was not, so this was a secret he had to take to his grave for Mobei-Jun's protection.
After all, if he knew Mobei-Jun, his pride and instincts would still demand that he acknowledge Shang Qinghua as his Mate, even if he truly did not want it. And as desperately as Shang Qinghua wanted Mobei-Jun to look at him, he refuses to force his King.
This… this was all just a fateful accident, and Shang Qinghua has bent fate before, and he will do so again for his King.
Shang Qinghua gets ready for the day and only then realizes that well over half of the morning has already passed and that he had slept in. Such a thing rarely occurs, as on days he sleeps in, Mobei-Jun would drag him out of bed when it was time for work to be done.
Now, he slips from his room and hurriedly makes his way to the main hall, where the day's court would be held. He could hear it going on inside and he hurriedly tried to enter, but a guard comes to block him.
"What's the meaning of this?" he asks in confusion.
"His Highness has ordered that you not attend today's court."
Shang Qinghua's mouth falls open. What!
"That's ridiculous, why not? I must get in there!"
The guard gets into a tighter formation, looking uncomfortable at his own job. "His Highness ordered me to tell you to return to your quarters."
How outrageous – Shang Qinghua huffs silently and turns, storming away, disbelief in the nerve Mobei-Jun has.
If Mobei-Jun was going to keep him out of court, that was fine – he had research to do anyway.
He goes to his study, although it was actually just the Northern Palace's imperial library that was filled with dust and frost, and cared for solely by Shang Qinghua. Very few demons ever visited such a place, but it was an ancient treasure trove of old information and ancient magics and cultivation, for both demons and humans, and so it was a bountiful resource.
He orders a passing hand servant to fetch him some proper breakfast to tide over the ache that his stomach gurgles with from a night of drinking. While he waits, he browses over the many pieces of literature in the library, all sitting on warded shelves to protect them from the merciless cold and ever-shifting ice of the glacial fortress.
Finally, he finds what he is looking for.
He eats his time away literally and figuratively, pouring over an old script that has vague details about the Mobei ancient ancestors and other Heavenly Demons. He finds an abundance of evidence of Heavenly Mates in the ancient texts. He also found that not all of them had a Heavenly Mate; it was a willing choice of the demon to undergo the first part of the ritual in the first place. The part that designated one to their core.
Unfortunately, most of the sources were only allegedly sourced, from fables, or mythology. He furiously tears through most of one reading, and then another, and another, finding more and more scraps of information about Heavenly Mates, slowly sinking his teeth into the complexity of their nature. There was a simple thing he was searching for. A question he is itching to know:
If there was a way to break the bond.
Since the Heavenly Mate is not chosen at birth, then surely there is some way to undo it.
Everything he found was inconclusive and spelt poor fortune for Shang Qinghua's future. But there was still hope, so he did not give up.
In time, he is rolling up and shelving ancient parchment, scrolls, and books, purposely remembering where they once were. As he is doing so, the room acquires a subtle chill, and shadows silently cloaks the corner in a dark silk that Mobei-Jun emerges from, whisps clinging to his imperial beauty.
"My King," he starts, annoyed at seeing the demon, reminding him of what Mobei-Jun did. "How was court?"
Mobei-Jun swiftly steps from the corner, that dark cloak of his dragging the cold ground. He's every ounce of effortlessly grand, and Shang Qinghua knows well that the ice demon does not need to worry much about his looks. He hardly maintains them, and yet, his hair is long and silky, his face unblemished and features fine, his skin smooth with the occasional war scar.
Shang Qinghua makes sure to look Mobei-Jun in the face and not let his gaze slip lower, although meeting the eyes of a fearsome man is no small feat.
"It was fine. This one has dealt with the orders to cease the hunt for my Mate, and very little concluded other than that."
"And how come I couldn't attend?" Shang Qinghua does not sulk, but he crosses his arms and pinches his lips. "Not very fair, if you ask me."
Mobei-Jun arches an eyebrow at the blatant sulking.
"Shang Qinghua needed rest. He slept in with no issue."
"But there's too much work to be done for me to take random days off! Now I have to work extra hard tomorrow, my King!" He whines.
"With you in here, I doubt you were relaxing. What has Shang Qinghua been reading?" Mobei-Jun sweeps his gaze over the library.
"Ah… well, my King…" he ponders briefly if he should just tell Mobei-Jun his plan. It would not hurt – help, even! "This one has been looking into Heavenly Mates to understand better what they are. And if, perhaps there is a way to…break the bond, so to speak since my King is not going to seek his Mate out anymore."
"Hm," Mobei-Jun hums with interest.
Shang Qinghua takes it as a good sign and continues: "I think I can find out quite a bit! Although I will have to ask Cucum- ah, Shen-Shixiong, for help! He is pretty good at understanding things like this. He deals with them…a lot."
"This King is interested. If it is easier, Qinghua should skip a few days of his duties to further explore this."
Shang Qinghua grins. That was much easier than he thought!
When he goes to Shen Qingqiu and explains his plan, he gets a look of utter disbelief.
"You want to…get rid of it?" Shen Qingqiu asks. "Why? All of that grief, and you want to throw the solution away ?"
"This isn't a solution," he sighs. "Honestly, it's kind of like a curse! You know, not all of us have hunky demons who are obsessed with us!"
Shen Qingqiu stares at him blankly.
"...Romantically." he strategically tacks-on.
"No way I'm helping you with this."
"Well, actually, you kind of have to?"
"Yeah right! Since when, huh?"
"You remember that time when you wandered into the Southern Dew Forest of Hidden Temptations to find that one Frog-"
"It was a toad , you idiot, the two-clawed lump toad whose saliva could cure aphro-"
"OKAY! Toad, you were looking for a toad but then you inconveniently fell into a patch of that one truth flower-"
"The blood spider lilies of-"
"Yeah, blood spider lilies of heart's deepest truth or something like that, and then you couldn't stop talking about anything and everything, and I had to put my ass on the line and hide you from Luo Binghe for three whole days! And then you said, wow, I owe you a favor Airplane, like if you need help with a spell or technique I got your back?"
Shen Qingqiu opened his fan and fluttered it. "...Yes, I recall."
"I am officially cashing in that favor!" Shang Qinghua decides, refusing to take no for an answer.
"Or what?" Shen Qingqiu scoffs. "I think you're making a huge mistake, so count me out."
"Oh, so I shouldn't tell Luo Binghe about the spider lilies? You know, I think he would be reeeally interested in what his precious, reticent Shizun truly thinks."
Shen Qinghua's face paled behind his fan. "...So how much research have you done so far on Heavenly Mates?"
Shang Qinghua's 'project' has him feeling a renewed sense of responsibility. In the end, he is the only one who can do this. Much discovery is made into the complexity of Heavenly Mates in the days following, and between two transmigrators who have sunk hours upon hours in understanding this world, both in their past life and the current, they spearhead the ancient knowledge with great success.
They learn a lot. Like how Heavenly Mates were decided by one's perfect match, and that you shouldn't want to break the bond, hence making it very difficult to create a ritual to remove it.
Shang Qinghua comes to some harsh conclusions. Mobei-Jun had willingly engaged in the first part of the ritual alone, establishing the bond so someone who would be perfect. Instead, he got saddled with Shang Qinghua. Fate may have chosen him because he was so loyal and devout – but Mobei-Jun was Mobei-Jun, and Shang Qinghua was Shang Qinghua. Romance was surely impossible, and this bond would only be platonic, and it would tear Shang Qinghua apart.
In the end, Shang Qinghua is nothing but a hard worker, and after many sleepless nights filled with research, peer cross-referencing, learning new techniques, and exploring the complex history of the Heavenly Demons, he truly believes he finally has something.
He rambles about it to Mobei-Jun over dinner one day, talking between large bites of warm cooked meat off the bone, explaining the methodology Shang Qinghua must follow to remove Mobei-Jun's shackles.
"You see, my King, the key to all this isn't actually a ritual meant for Heavenly Mate bonds, but meant for cleansing the blood of Heavenly Demon influence! Me and Cucumber – I mean, Shen-Shixiong – found a ritual that gets rid of Blood Parasites in the body. We even tried it out on him and it was a success, even though Luo Binghe was pretty upset and kicked me out afterward. But, after we tested it, we started to change it to suit our case," he eats between breaths, licking his lips of grease and crumbs from the demonic delicacy they feast on that night. "All those Blood Parasites can't be good for the body, honestly! The thought of Luo Binghe controlling me with his blood gives me the creeps!"
"Perhaps I could." Mobei-Jun grumbles in his usual, half-committed manner that he adopts when listening to Shang Qinghua ramble and still committing enough to show he is listening.
"What?"
"If it was my blood, would Qinghua be opposed…"
"Ah, it's fine if it's my King's blood! Mobei would never take advantage of me like that -" he pauses as he chews. "Okay, maybe a little, but I wouldn't mind, honestly. It may even help me endure the weather a little better."
"Mn." Mobei-Jun's chair scrapes.
"Also, the Heavenly Demonic essence in your blood isn't as potent as his. The last Heavenly Demon in your family line was your great, great, great, great- uh?"
Shang Qinghua suddenly the cast shadow of Mobei-Jun looming over him, and then he cranes his head up while Mobei-Jun stares down at him with sharp eyes. "My King?"
The ice demon grunts and holds a hand out. Shang Qinghua's eyes land on a dark line across the palm, beginning to swell with dark liquid. The hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "You're bleeding! Let me get a napkin," Shang Qinghua scrambles.
He is stopped by Mobei-Jun's uninjured hand grabbing his shoulder and sitting him firmly back down. "No. This is intentional. You are to drink it."
"...Ah…haha… my King we really should work on your humor, your punchlines have always been a little poor. I beg forgiveness but that is this servant's honest opinion," he laughs nervously as he puts his hands up in a defensive manner.
Mobei-Jun unceremoniously slaps the hand onto Shang Qinghua's mouth, muffling the sharp cry of the servant.
The first drop that slides past Shang Qinghua's lips and hits his tongue has a shiver racing up his spine and leaving all of his nerves hot like a live wire. He fiercely grabs the armrests of the chair, his body locking up as a steady flow of blood enters his mouth. It is unlike anything he had ever tasted, and so he was at a loss of what to do. The blood does not hold a consistency of water or oil, but it still slides smoothly down his throat once it gets past the near-addictive tingling that needles over his tongue. He screws his eyes shut and grabs a little harder onto the chair, using all his control to not moan into the hand and go chasing for more.
Shang Qinghua internally weeps at his own weakness towards his King as he is fed the demon's blood. This is what he gets for blabbing his mouth!
After a minute of being smothered by Mobei-Jun feeding him, he slaps his King's wrists, wanting to take a proper breath. The hand peels away, disgustingly sticky from thinly smeared blood and Shang Qinghua's spit. The human sucks in a breath and then coughs, covering his mouth.
"My King…next time just give me a cup and I'll drink it, this was a bit much!" He proclaims after catching his breath.
Mobei-Jun picks up a napkin and cleans his hand, using his abilities to heal this minor wound. It crusts with ice like rough skin scabbing over a wound, and when he flexes his palm to ice crumbles away to flawless skin. "No need to waste a cup." Mobei-Jun states as he sits back at the end of the table and resumes eating his half-cooked flank of meat, teeth digging into it and easily serrating it away with each bite. Shang Qinghua huffs and cleans himself before he returns to his safe-for-humans demonic cuisine, hoping that eating would chase away the tingling from his mouth to his stomach. He doubts it – he will probably be feeling this for a whole day.
"We don't even know if you can do much with your blood… ah, I guess we'll get to find out together. You should definitely give me immunity to the cold, so I don't have to wear all those charmed robes. They're too warm on An Ding Peak, and having to change each time I go between the Palace and Cang Qiong is kind of a drag… ah, will you get to know my exact location now? Do you think there is a distance limiter? Traversing between realms can be rather fickle-"
"Qinghua, shut up and eat."
After another week, Shang Qinghua is sure he's cracked it. Cucumber-Bro is quite insightful, and Shang Qinghua is boundlessly grateful that the one who transmigrated into this world with him was a total nerd who read PIDW for lore. How ridiculous was that?
Finally, Shang Qinghua announces to his King one afternoon after court that he was finished with making this brand-new ritual.
"I think we can actually do it. We can get rid of the bond," Shang Qinghua says gleefully. He has lost the remorse of this situation. He buried it and made sure to densely pack the dirt on top of the shallow grave. He did not have time to mope and pine over what he could have, not when it shouldn't be meant to be in the first place. Piling work on yourself is an excellent distraction from one’s reality.
And when he began to relapse into the depression, he rationalizes to himself that if Mobei-Jun truly was destined to have a "perfect mate", he would’ve had one in the PIDW canon. And it would never, ever, be Shang Qinghua. This was all just an unfortunate flaw.
His King nods at him, sweeping his eyes over Shang Qinghua with a conniving calculation. "Excellent work. You never cease to somehow surprise me with your varied expertise." Mobei-Jun rarely compliments him, and Shang Qinghua beams.
"Yes, the ritual will give you a clean slate. Theoretically. But I, ah, may need to… may need to swallow your blood after the ritual, since the ritual will cleanse all of our- all of my King's links. If my King would still have me."
Mobei-Jun nods. "Obviously."
"Right, of course! Then, in three days' time, I should be ready. I have to finish preparing… ah, does my King have any preferences or suggestions? Like what time it should be done, or perhaps a place…?"
"...Only one, that has recently occurred to me."
"Yes, my lord?"
"I do not know how this works, but… after the bond is cleansed, does Qinghua know if it is possible for this King to reforge someone else as my Heavenly Mate?"
Shang Qinghua feels like he just got punched in the gut at that.
"I… I'm sorry, my King. You… you want to reinstate the Heavenly Mate bond after this is done? I must be hearing incorrectly. That is silly, yes I misheard-"
"Yes. This one wants to create the bond again, with someone of my choosing, rather than fates. This King will admit that he underwent the ritual, not doing proper research, and failed."
"My King always had someone in mind, then?"
"Yes," Mobei-Jun says very bluntly, like a nonchalant observation: "Qinghua seems to be taking this poorly."
"I'm only confused why you would want that after all this?" Shang Qinghua has to control himself from raising his voice. He stomps on his emotions, smothering his desire to reach out and grab the demon by the throat and strangle him. This man really has no idea what he is saying! No tact, no remorse over what he is ignorantly putting Shang Qinghua through here!
"Shang Qinghua knows that this Mobei-Jun will eventually need to take a Mate, but I intend to choose rather than allow the elders to pressure me. And… I know the perfect one from whom to choose as my Mate. I had wanted this for a long time, but I banished the thought until I learned of the ritual. I did not know how they would react, so I poorly did it alone."
Shang Qinghua puts a hand on his temple, feeling another wave of dizziness. He had thought Mobei-Jun did not want a Heavenly Mate at all, but now he is saying the complete opposite. Shang Qinghua had so happily made this ritual to rid him of the problem so that he would not see Mobei-Jun fall in love at all!
Ah… Shang Qinghua thinks remorsefully but with hopeless acceptance, as per usual when something comes to bite him in the ass, This is what I get for being selfish!
"If my King has his eyes on someone, he can get them easily. Anyone would be a fool to deny you! I-is making them a Heavenly Mate so important?"
"This King had asked Junshang how he made his Shizun his own Heavenly Mate. He had told this King the ritual, and that it forces them into the bond forever."
Shang Qinghua wants to weep at the strange roundabout bullshit he had to craft for this trope that was quickly getting out of hand!
"It is this King's selfish desire. I can make my future mate a Heavenly-given one, then they can never leave me. We will be bonded for eternity."
"Y… yes that is the case."
"So, Qinghua, I will order you that once this is over, you are to burn all parts of this ritual away, so it can never be recreated again. And take an oath that will have you forget all parts of it. Am I understood?"
Shang Qinghua dumbly nods, losing his voice.
"Qinghua?" Mobei-Jun acquires an ounce of concern.
"Yes, I will have it done. I promise to destroy the knowledge of the ritual when it is completed."
Mobei-Jun sits back and sighs out his nose. "Good. My plans will be enacted to every measure. I will have what I desire."
Shang Qinghua does not respond, feeling a numbness that comes from too much pain to his heart and disbelief that he is such a fool.
Three days later, Shang Qinghua looks down at the arrays spread over the floor with the many complex talismans placed methodically in line, coinciding with the specific material components needed to enact and fuel this ancient magic. He debates altering it at the last minute.
It would be easy to move one thing around and have Mobei-Jun none the wiser. He could easily proclaim it didn't work, and try again, and then again, until they both give up and carry on as is. Shang Qinghua would keep his secret of being Mobei-Jun's Heavenly Mate to the grave, as long as it was him and only him, and no one else.
He does not realize he is crying until his nose starts to run and his vision blurs. The ugly feeling of possession twists in his heart but he yearns so deeply…
Shang Qinghua hastily regains himself and cleans up, knowing Mobei-Jun would be arriving soon in this sectioned-off dungeon under the Palace. They chose it for its secluded nature, as being caught in the middle of a ritual can be dangerous; especially one as vulnerable as this, which forces one to bare their very sense of self. Soon, Mobei-Jun will stand in one circle and Shang Qinghua in the other, and an ancient rite will be chanted and spiritual power will be fed into the complex arrays to power it. After it is over, Shang Qinghua may be revealed, or he may not; he is unsure what information will come to light, but in the end, Mobei-Jun will reach his desired conclusion and be thankful that the connection is severed. Whether he knew it was Shang Qinghua or not.
By the time Shang Qinghua wipes his last grieving tears away with his sleeve, he sees the shadows drag to the corner of the room, announcing his King's arrival. The demon steps in quickly and quietly, looking somewhat excited.
"Is Qinghua finally finished?"
"As you can see, it is ready," Shang Qinghua's voice is strangled.
"You sound horrible."
"I lost some sleep making sure it was all correct last night, is all! Don't worry, it won't interfere!" He lies easily, quite proficient in making half-honest excuses. He did cut into some sleep last night, but only from guilt and anxiety eating at him from trying to make the fateful decision of actually going through with this.
In the end, he isn't selfish enough.
"Erm, please, stand there - yes, perfect, right across from me. It's rather simple, my Lord, all we need to do is feed our mutual energies into the ritual and the rest will work out. But do make sure to regulate your qi, to avoid a deviation. A part of yourself may feel lost afterward, but it's normal," he rambles. "Or maybe you won't feel anything at all! I'm not sure, this is all very experimental. It may not even work, haha…ha. Uhm…"
Mobei-Jun's eyes are tactfully sweeping over Shang Qinghua's work before settling on him. "And you will be in the ritual as well?"
"Oh! Yeah, as a catalyst, of sorts," he says another half-lie, prepared for more inquiries.
Yet, his King nodded, appeased by just that.
Shang Qinghua looked down at his feet, taking a deep breath. He must not let his anxieties get him now! Just rip it off like a bandaid, he tells himself! When this is done, perhaps he will come out better as well. Hopefully, when this bond is ripped from him, so will this searing emotion that he has grown used to over the years.
"Let's begin."
Mobei-Jun is flawless. He feeds the ritual easily, the arrays beginning to glow with icy, shimmering qi, reacting with great pulses that spread through the diagrams, inching towards where Shang Qinghua stands. Shang Qinghua pours his own qi in a little too quickly, but it does not overflow as it hastily comes to meet Mobei-Juns. He watches their energies mingle, gold flowing into silver, all in visual clarity thanks to the many talismans in the room.
They seep together until a strand of each of their qi slips past to reach for the other. Shang Qinghua gasps as he sees a silver stream curl around his legs and sinks into his body. He shivers, not focusing on Mobei-Jun and what is happening on his side. He is too absorbed in feeling the demonic energy pulse inside of him, not hurting but overwhelming his senses. It was almost like it knew it belonged there, with how easily it slides through his meridians.
He feels it trickle up his spine and pool into his stomach, going up, up, up, into his throat.
Shang Qinghua desperately tries to keep calm despite having his entire body invaded by Mobei-Jun's presence. There is no need to worry, as the demon was welcomed, but Shang Qinghua knows what it is here for. He knows that soon, that strand of energy will rip away the link between himself and Mobei-Jun, before slithering back to its owner to return the piece that Shang Qinghua stole.
It's in his mouth now. It does not taste like anything, but he can feel the way his tongue starts to freeze from the back of his throat to the very tip. It is so cold that the rest of his body lights on fire, and his mouth falls open but he cannot scream. His throat is incapacitated.
Then, the most blistering pain he has ever felt sieges him to his core. He stumbles, pain richochetting from his knees when he hits the ground. It feels as though his tongue has been ripped out from the root, and he reaches up to check helplessly, but when his finger sinks into his mouth to ensure his tongue is still there, the scolding touch of his skin to the place where Mobei's mark once was has him temporarily blacking out.
He falls back and knock his head, but that the pain is second to the comfortable chill he knows as Mobei-Jun's spiritual energy leaving his body like a whisper on the wind, making Shang Qinghua plummeting into the feeling of ice. He cries at the slow crawl of frost setting into his skin, making him break into a fierce shiver. The pressure was as though he is buried under an avalanche, and he groans, the pain too much.
And yet he sits up, knowing he must. He must recover soon, or Mobei-Jun will see something is wrong.
"It worked! Qinghua-" Mobei-Jun's voice is clear. A little strained, but intact. "Qinghua?"
"It really worked," Shang Qinghua tries to say, but it grates against his very being in all the wrong ways. All he does is groan futility and collapse again.
"Qinghua!"
Hands, clammy, freezing, grabbing him. He cries and tries to get away, feeling as though he will die if they touch him much longer. It's all so cold , everything just feels wrong.
"Mo-bei," he wants to turn towards the hands for comfort but just feeling them brush his body crushes him far more than a bone-breaking blow. "Pl-pl…"
One of those cruel hands jams its fingers in his mouth. Shang Qinghua screamths and writhes, trying to get away. The skin on the fingers is pierced and a rush of liquid hits his tongue, making him gargle.
He's going to die this way - he really feels he is going to die!
The other hand curls around his neck, surely scaring him with a print that will never heal, all for a thumb to rub over the front of his throat and massage it, helping him swallow.
Shang Qinghua's misery persists for what feels like forever until he somehow gets used to it. The pain and deep-seeded freeze ever so slowly wanes, just enough for clarity to return through the agony.
Shang Qinghua finally looks up with clarity at a wide-eyed Mobei-Jun. His lips are parted, eyebrows drawn. There is the shimmer of crystals crusted on his King's eyelashes and glued to the top of his cheeks. Frozen paths down the beautiful planes of his face.
"Qinghua… No, Qinghua, how did this happen? What part of the ritual hurt you?" His voice is dry, but his eyes are wet.
"Mmph-" he responds. The bleeding fingers pull out and Shang Qinghua swallows the last remnants of blood down. "Fuck," he curses, face scrunched up as he sticks his tongue out at the horrid taste. It was odd, Mobei-Jun's blood did not taste so wretched the first time he was forced to drink it! Perhaps his body is rejecting it, because it is not Mobei-Jun's anymore?
"You… you…" Mobei-Jun starts, seeming to be at a loss for words.
"Ah, my King! it-it worked," Shang Qinghua winced through his words. "You're free."
"Qinghua what…"
"No-no more pesky bond," he slaps his hand against Mobei-Jun's arm. "Ugh- pl, please take me to my room, I feel quite ill, haha-ah?!"
Two fingers abruptly force their way back into his mouth and pry open his jaw. "Ughgh-" he thrashes.
"No- NO!"
Shang Qinghua feels a sharp pain of a clawed thumb pressing against his tongue and pushing it down. More fingers pry open his mouth. "AH?!" Shang Qinghua tries to bite down but is fruitless.
"Qinghua, what is this scar on your tongue?! What have you DONE?!" The demon demands in a booming voice, looming over Shang Qinghua with an aura of danger bleeding into the air.
Finally, he shoves Mobei-Jun away, shivering and coughing.
"I-I did what I had to do! I took care of it! The bond-" he wheezes, coughs again, and forces himself to continue. "It's- ack- it's gone, why is my King upset? Does my King not feel any different? The ritual did not fail..."
"It was you? This entire time, you were the one! And now, now it's…" Mobei-Jun grips Shang Qinghua so fiercely it hurts, but the pain is little compared to the torn look upon his King's face.
Amazingly, more tears fall.
Ah. He knows now. Shang Qinghua trembles and clutches onto Mobei-Jun's robes, knowing he has been exposed. Despair twists in him but he tries to be optimistic.
"M-my King, no need to cry!" Shang Qinghua reaches up and cups Mobei-Jun's cheek, thumb shakily brushing away the crystals that form and stick to the skin, tears that never get the chance to truly fall. "My King is finally unbound from fate and now he can…can choose who he truly desires."
Helpless at this admission, Shang Qinghua feels himself crying. Now that he brings it into words, he really can feel it; he can feel the gaping chasm that sits in his very essence, where the ritual had torn away that part of Mobei-Jun that had nestled itself so deep inside that it was like wrenching a core from a star and hoping it wouldn't collapse in on itself. Shang Qinghua trembles, knowing it was only a matter of time, but he can not let it crumble. Not yet.
"Qinghua truly is my Mate?"
"Yes, i-it was me." Shang Qinghua says. His heart lurches painfully, a strange flair entering him.
Mobei-Jun shakes his head, mumbling to himself, and Qinghua heard the distinct words, "a mistake. "
"... My King, be gentler with your words, huh? It- it really hurts to hear you call our former bond a mistake so soon," Shang Qinghua hangs his head, the look on Mobile-Jun's face becoming unbearable. "I can only bear so much, my heart is weaker than yours."
"Then why?"
"What?"
"Why did Qinghua get rid of it?! Why did he not tell this Lord! Why did he throw it away?!" Mobei-Jun's anger knows no bounds as he seizes Shang Qinghua tighter and the pain creates a fresh wave of nausea. The human's vision spots with darkness . "He did not even ask this Lord!"
"H-how could I? My King said he… he had someone else for his Mate… I'm just… im not meant for my King," he mumbles, trying to blink away the influx of dizziness with little success.
Something was wrong. He tries to breathe, but it’s sickening.
A Qi Deviation. Hah, he should have expected this. "I… I feel like I'm going to die."
"Qinghua… You fool, you’re…"
His hearing seems to fade, and Mobei-Jun keeps talking the entire time, so uncharacteristic of him, but Shang Qinghua cannot help but soak in the voice, letting it wash over him.
It really feels as though that emptiness inside of him has started to swallow him whole. Whatever that ritual took from him, it took to much; he is going to collapse in on himself and vanish.
"...So willing to destroy fate… all this time…"
He thinks, distantly, that dying in Mobei-Jun's arms is nice. And that, despite his best efforts, he died from Mobei-Jun in the end; it was devastatingly poetic.
"Qinghua is mine… "
A steep temperature bears into him, starting from a hard pressure on his mouth and spreading through his body, making him shudder. Power, so heady and overwhelming, reignited his body and refills it with a great surge.
Shang Qinghua's head rolls, breaking free with a gasp. The last thing he sees is Mobei-Jun's expression of true misery.
And his own failure.