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“I spoil him,” Gong Shangjue whispers against her ear, and Shangguan Qian shivers, the rasp of his voice sending chills down the length of her body. Gong Shangjue’s eyes are dark when he pulls back, locked unblinking on her face.
“You could spoil him too.”
Shangguan Qian thinks about that look as she watches them together–Gong Shangjue and Gong Yuanzhi–their wordless understanding of one another. Gong Yuanzhi turning up when Gong Shangjue is coiled tight and sitting with him beside the dark, glassy water of the Jue residence, giving voice to all the frustrations that his brother keeps locked inside his chest. She sees the way Gong Shangjue carries himself lighter after that, a hand wrapping around the nape of his brother’s neck, heavy with affection. How Gong Yuanzhi turns towards him like a flower towards the sun. Their bodies moving with constant awareness of each other, almost like they are tethered together by invisible strings, any action of one demanding a response from the man beside him.
She frowns as Gong Shangjue places the finest bites of food in Gong Yuanzhi’s bowl; as Yuanzhi smirks at her, knowing, even when she is all softness and submission. Before the elders, Gong Shangjue’s authority is undeniable, almost a physical part of him; but behind the doors of the Jue residence, he lets Yuanzhi trample over etiquette and propriety, his lips pulling up at the corners as he pours tea into his brother’s cup himself.
I spoil him. She hears Gong Shangjue’s voice in her ears as she sits beside them–can’t help the barbs she throws at Gong Yuanzhi, relishing the way his expression falters. She holds her smile of pleasure inside when she mentions the warmth of Gong Shangjue’s bed, her face all innocence as Yuanzhi’s expression sours. It is a small thing to hold over him, but it is the only thing she has to respond to Gong Yuanzhi’s smug reminders that no one is closer to his brother than he is.
At least in this, Shangguan Qian thinks to herself as Gong Shangjue fucks into her, I come before Yuanzhi didi.
She lies beside him, sweat cooling in the valley between her breasts, and tries to translate the closeness of their bodies into something else, something that lasts longer than a night. But each time she reaches out, trailing her fingers down the smooth planes of Gong Shangjue’s abdomen or pressing herself into the cradle of his shoulder, trying to crack him open and see whether, somewhere inside the depths of his guarded heart, there might be space for her, she feels the distance that he maintains between them—the thready pulse of doubt that no amount of passion can overcome.
Gong Shangjue will never let himself be totally vulnerable with her.
So Shangguan Qian fights a hidden battle, masked behind gentle murmurs and carefully calculated gestures. Sometimes she isn’t sure how much of her desperation comes from the knowledge that she needs Gong Shangjue’s help to avenge her clan and how much comes from the need to be recognized by this man, one she understands so viscerally but can still never predict. He treats her with respect, permits her to stand at his side, sets the mantel of his future wife over her shoulders. But his duty to the Gong family means that as long as she has her own agenda, he will always hold her apart from himself: an outsider, if no longer an enemy.
And though she thinks there are moments where she catches something in Gong Shangjue’s gaze as he watches her, sharp eyes going momentarily soft, he will not open his heart to her. That intimacy is reserved for his brother alone. No amount of heated looks or tender caresses from Shangguan Qian can change that.
Gong Yuanzhi is the only thing Gong Shangjue values above the Gong Family, a little brother cherished and indulged.
You could spoil him too. The words echo in her mind, turning over and over, until it starts to sound like a question. Shangguan Qian begins to wonder if, in the moment when Gong Shangjue had murmured those words into her ear, she had misinterpreted him completely. That rather than a taunt, it had been an invitation.
She clings to Gong Shangjue’s shoulders as he powers up into her, pressing her face against his neck. He pulls her back down on his cock, strong hands wrapped around her hips as he chases his pleasure. Their skin sticks together, damp with sweat, moans punched from her body with the force of his thrusts. Shangguan Qian’s skin sings under his hands, alight with sensation, and Gong Shangjue reaches between them, pressing hard against her swollen clit.
Shangguan Qian’s body shudders, going molten and liquid. Shangjue’s fingers drag over her slick flesh, seeking, demanding, the pressure building until her body is spasming as her orgasm crashes over her, sudden and fierce. She pants against his shoulder, shocked, and he fucks her through it, one hand twisted in the long hair along her back.
When she comes down, she realizes Shangjue has gone still beneath her, despite the insistent pressure of his hard cock still lodged inside her. Unsteady but determined, she lifts her body, clenching her dripping cunt around just the head of his cock before she sinks back down, taking him to the hilt. Gong Shangjue’s groan splits the air, and she grins, wicked, the mask momentarily slipping. Then she is pushing him back against the mattress and bracing herself against his chest. His eyes follow her movements, dark and swallowing, as she starts a slow roll of her hips. She can feel his cock swell inside her, his arousal climbing. This is the only thing he will surrender to her in, the only place where he allows her to take him apart.
The air fills with the soft, wet sounds of their bodies meeting. Shangjue’s jaw is clenched, the muscle jumping as she works herself up and down. Her muscles start to protest, her movements slowing as her thighs burn, and a sound rumbles in his chest, low and displeased. Then Shangjue is pushing her off and flipping her onto her stomach, his shadow a dark shape across the wall. She feels the firm heat of his hands pulling her hips back, and then his fingers spreading her open as he notches his cock at the entrance of her twitching cunt.
Shangguan Qian can’t hold back the breathy whimper that spills out of her when he thrusts back into her. Their bodies collide, Gong Shangjue setting a punishing pace as Shangguan Qian tries to push back to meet him. He reaches forward, pulling her head back, and crashes his mouth down against hers, bruising. His moan vibrates against her lips, hips jerking as he spills into her, crushing her hips into the bed as he pumps her cunt full to overflowing.
Gong Shangjue half collapses over her shoulder, flattening her against the blankets, breathing hard. Shangguan Qian clenches around him, just to feel the twitch of his cock inside her again. His body is a heavy line of heat along her back, pinning her in place, forcing her breaths shallow, but she doesn’t mind. She feels a trickle of his cum seep out of her and wonders idly if one of the reasons he fucks her so often is also to do with the Gong family, and the twisted desperation to rebuild the strength that they’ve lost.
Shangjue shifts slightly, and she feels his softening cock slip out of her. He lifts his head, and Shangguan Qian knows that he is about to roll away, to put that familiar distance back between them. She reaches up, wrapping her hand around his neck and holding him in place on top of her. He stills briefly, breath washing over her shoulder. Shangguan Qian turns her head to look at him, and he’s so close, his dark gaze piercing.
“What?”
His voice is gravelly, but soft. Curious. He shifts, rolling onto one hip, laying pressed against her side, staying closer than he ever has in these moments.
Shangguan Qian swallows. “I’ve been thinking,” she says, hesitant. “About what you said about Yuanzhi didi.”
Gong Shangjue’s face stills. “Yuanzhi didi?” he repeats, eyes glued to her face. There is a new tension to him, despite his languid pose.
Shangguan Qian swallows. If she is wrong about this, if she tries to read his mind and fails…
There will be no coming back.
“About how…I could spoil him.”
Gong Shangjue’s expression hardly changes. It is only because she is looking for it that Shangguan Qian sees his eyes widen the slightest bit. He traces one hand along her back, dipping into the curve at the base of her spine and resting there.
“You didn’t seem to like the suggestion.” One of Shangjue’s fingers skims the cleft of her ass, and Shangguan Qian can’t help the little sparks of sensation it sends pinging through her body. She turns her head farther, watching Shangjue’s face as he dips his fingers lower, sliding them through the wetness between her legs. He drags his fingers up again, leaving a glistening trail behind as he traces over her curves.
Shangguan Qian swallows, reminding herself to stay focused on the task at hand. “I may have reconsidered.”
Gong Shangjue’s fingers falter between her shoulder blades. “Oh?” His voice contains only polite interest, but Shangguan Qian can feel his eyes riveted on her face.
She exhales, shaky. “You give Yuanzhi didi the best of everything,” she reminds him. “Why should this be the exception?” She can feel her heart pounding in her throat, and feels a flicker of irritation with herself that her usual composure is faltering.
Gong Shangjue stares at her for the space of a breath before a small, secretive smile unfurls, pulling the corners of his lips upward. “That would be me spoiling him,” he corrects. “Which, as you’ve pointed out, I already do.” He regards her carefully, his gaze heavy and deliberate. “This would need to be from both of us.”
Us. Shangguan Qian feels her breath catch. Never, not once, in all the time since he chose her as his bride, has Gong Shangjue ever used the word “us” in a way that includes her. She looks up into his dark eyes, searching. This is what she has been desperately hoping for: the smallest crack in Gong Shangjue’s defenses—a way to change his perception of her as an outsider to an ally.
If this is what it takes, Shangguan Qian thinks, mind already running wild, then I’m willing. She arches her back, pressing her damp skin against Gong Shangjue’s stilled palm and meets his gaze.
“Then let it be from both of us,” she says, and feels her body tighten expectantly when Shangjue’s pupils dilate in response, the color impossibly deep. He leans down, so close she can almost imagine he is going to kiss her; but outside of sex, he never does.
Gong Shangjue stops, his nose an inch from hers. Shangguan Qian watches as the hard lines of his face soften and he smiles, eyelids falling low. “Maybe together,” he whispers—and Shangguan Qian feels his voice go through her, heat pooling between her legs— “Yuanzhi didi and I can discover what you like.”
---
Shangguan Qian spends the next few days wound tight with anticipation, her attention—always fixed on Gong Shangjue—sharpening, dagger-like, whenever Gong Yuanzhi enters the Jue residence. She watches intently, looking for Gong Shangjue to give a sign, a gesture, any indication that he is about to initiate the vague plan they had agreed upon. But Shangjue makes no move to change things, continuing to treat Yuanzhi with the same fond exasperation, hiding his amusement at their bickering behind steaming cups of tea. He does nothing, but she can feel the weight of his watchful eyes on her, waiting.
This would need to be from both of us.
And Shangguan Qian realizes, gradually, what his inaction means. In this small, insular world bound by the rules of the Gong family, Gong Shangjue’s authority falls heavily—even upon Gong Yuanzhi. The price of devotion, she supposes. Gong Shangjue would never force this upon his brother. Yuanzhi is built around the need to support him, to give everything of himself. Shangjue cannot make this overture openly without that pressure being a part of it.
But Shangguan Qian can. It would be only too easy for Gong Yuanzhi to refuse her.
Gong Yuanzhi makes a habit of visiting the Jue residence in the afternoons, throwing open the doors unannounced and finding his way unerringly to his brother’s side, sure of his welcome. Shangguan Qian has envied him for it, this certainty, while she hovers warily at the margins of Shangjue’s life. When Gong Shangjue rises from the bed one morning, Shangguan Qian watches as he pulls a robe around his naked body. He glances down, and for once, she doesn’t look away, feigning embarrassed modesty–Shangguan Qian stares back, trailing her eyes over him, letting him see the hunger in her. His hands freeze on the belt of his robe, and she hears the whisper of air between his teeth, an inhale gone every so slightly sharp. A small, pleased smile steals across his face, and Shangjue finishes dressing, the movements crisp and practiced.
“Take your time this morning.” The heat in his voice envelops her, lingering even as Shangjue leaves the room, his steps unhurried.
Shangguan Qian lies in bed, for once uncaring as to whether she is giving the appearance of a perfect future wife. She trails her fingers over her skin, skimming along the curves of her breasts and feeling her nipples pucker in response. She wonders idly what Gong Yuanzhi’s hands would feel like playing across her body and whether, underneath his gloves, his hands are as delicate as his features suggest. He’s always been beautiful, she thinks, and feels a frisson of want pass through her, startling in its clarity. Even all these days later, she had never really examined the idea of Yuanzhi himself, independent of Shangjue. She pictures him clearly, cataloguing her body’s reaction. She’s not…uninterested, but the desire she feels coursing through her cannot be untangled from the need to bind Gong Shangjue to her somehow.
In the same way that the brothers themselves are so interwoven, Shangguan Qian cannot picture having Gong Yuanzhi–cannot fathom the idea of touching him, taking him into her body–without a distinct sense of Gong Shanjue’s gaze on her. This is the allure. If Shangjue allows her this intimacy, invites her into some part of the absolute trust that lies between him and Yuanzhi… Shangguan Qian squeezes her thighs together, heat building at her core. If Gong Shangjue gives her permission to care for his brother like this–in a way that he can offer but never give–she wonders, can he still hold her at a distance?
Shangguan Qian waits until the sun is high in the sky before she drags herself out of bed. She calls for warm water and bathes. Thoroughly. Combing through the long strands of her hair, she hears the familiar shush of the outer doors sliding open, rapid footsteps carrying Yuanzhi to his brother’s side. Shangguan Qian smiles to herself, straightening to let the damp curtain of her hair spill down her back. Her fingers slide across the silken fabric of the clothing Shangjue bought her, but she does not put it on. This is not about presenting a flawless facade; it is about showing the cracks—the layers underneath—and in the showing, offering an invitation to peel them back.
When she finally slides open the door, Shangguan Qian has draped herself only in one of Gong Shanjue’s inner robes: inky dark, striking in its simplicity. The fabric trails along the floor behind her, too long and gaping slightly at the chest. It is entirely the wrong thing to wear in the main hall of the Jue residence, but Shangguan Qian remembers that earlier smile on Gong Shangjue’s face. He will have already dismissed the servants. The scent of bay flower washes over her as the air stirs the fabric, and Shangguan Qian feels the anticipation building in her body.
Bewitching, she reminds herself as she sweeps forward. And victory.
Gong Shangjue notices her first, sitting in his usual place with his back to the wall. He is listening to something Yuanzhi is saying, a cup raised in the air before him. Shangjue pauses, just the briefest hesitation in his arm as he brings the curved porcelain to his lips; but Shangguan Qian sees the way he takes in the sight of her, still damp and hardly dressed, and the slow raising of his eyes in unmistakable approval.
It sets her on fire.
Gong Yuanzhi doesn’t turn around, though she’s certain he can hear her by now. Shangguan Qian slows as she comes almost level with his shoulder, and glances at Gong Shangjue. His lips are curved in obvious amusement as he watches his brother resolutely ignoring her approach. He looks back at her and raises one eyebrow the slightest bit: a challenge. Shangguan Qian calculates quickly. She hadn’t anticipated Gong Shangjue leaving this so completely in her hands. What is the right way, she ponders, to show that this offer comes sanctioned by his brother?
She reaches out and deliberately trails her fingers across the back of Yuanzhi’s shoulders as she circles the table, walking close enough that the fabric of her borrowed robe flutters against his thigh. Gong Yuanzhi tenses slightly, but continues to face forward, defiant, his attention for his brother alone. Shangguan Qian rounds the corner of the table, drawing up alongside Gong Shangjue. His eyes stay on Yuanzhi, even as Shangguan Qian braces her hand on his shoulder and lowers herself deliberately into his lap. She lets her hand linger, fingers drifting under Shangjue’s hair to graze along his neck, and then slowly lifts her eyes to look across the table at Gong Yuanzhi.
His mouth falls open, just the slightest bit, eyes widening in shock and then darting to the side, trying to pretend that he hasn’t just seen his brother’s bride nearly undressed. Shangguan Qian can see the pink that washes over his pale cheeks, embarrassment thick in the air. Gong Shangjue’s hand comes to rest on her knee, ghosting over the smooth fabric of the robe.
But still he says nothing.
“Yuanzhi didi.” Shangguan Qian breaks the silence, deliberately leaning her head back against Shangjue’s shoulder, the line of her throat exposed. She watches Yuanzhi’s eyes flicker up, snagging on the pale triangle of flesh along her chest before he looks up at her face. “We’ve been at odds these last few weeks,” she continues, and carefully pulls a lock of Shangjue’s hair over his shoulder, draping it alongside her own damp tresses, blurring the line between where he ends and she begins. “Won’t you let me make it up to you?”
She sees the moment that Yuanzhi understands what she’s offering: the pink of his cheeks turns deeper and his eyes fly to Shangjue, still silent and watchful behind her. Shangguan Qian waits, patient, until she feels Gong Shangjue’s fingers wrap around the neckline of the robe and very slowly, pull the fabric to the side. The sound of silk sliding over her skin is deafening in the silence, as is the soft, wet sound of Shangjue’s lips as he presses his mouth along her exposed collarbone.
“Ge?” Yuanzhi’s voice trembles slightly, uncertain, and Shangguan Qian holds back her smile. She knows he would only interpret it as mocking, but she finds that, sitting here pressed flush against Gong Shangjue, she is full of an unexpected tenderness for Yuanzhi. Maybe this is what it means, she considers, twisting their hair together, to be an us. Gong Shangjue has never concealed his devotion for his brother, but Shangguan Qian had struggled to warm to him, barraged as she has been by Yuanzhi’s jealousy and her own resentment of the unshakable trust between the two of them. This moment is the first time she has been able to look at Gong Yuanzhi and to really see him through Shangjue’s eyes: petulant and brilliant, unshakable yet insecure, proud and broken.
We are so alike, Shangguan Qian realizes, the three of us.
Gong Shangjue raises his head, lips dragging along her flesh, and stares at his brother across the table. “Yuanzhi didi,” he says, his voice a rumble of warmth. “You are my brother. There is nothing that can come between us—no piece of my life I would keep you separate from. Not even this.”
Shangguan Qian shifts her shoulder and lets the robe fall further, slipping to expose the swell of her breast. Shangjue’s calluses catch on her soft skin as he raises a hand to touch, and Shangguan Qian feels her nipples tighten, flesh jumping under his hands. She watches Yuanzhi, the way his eyes track his brother’s hand, lingering over her bare chest. His lips part, and she hears the shuddering breath he draws in as embarrassment fades away and desire slowly takes its place.
She feels the response from her own body, not the frantic crash of want that Shangjue inspires in her, but something quieter, slowly stoked and rising. Shangguan Qian tilts her head the smallest bit, her lips grazing along Gong Shangjue’s jaw as she stares back.
This is going to be so much fun.
---
Shangguan Qian runs her hands down Gong Yuanzhi’s chest, reveling in the hitch in his breath as she scrapes her nails over his pale skin, red lines surfacing in their wake. She had shed Gong Shangjue’s borrowed robe and it lies puddled on the floor, inches away from where its owner sits watching her draped over his brother. Shangguan Qian glances to the side and meets Gong Shangjue’s heated gaze. He is still fully dressed, though the belt at his waist is loosened, tea he poured himself held in one hand casually propped on his bent knee. He tilts his head, giving the slightest lift of his chin, encouraging.
She turns her attention back to Yuanzhi, laid out on his back, as naked as she is. It sends a little thrill through her, thinking of the picture they must paint for Gong Shangjue. Shangguan Qian doesn’t want to rush things, but if she’s perfectly honest being here between these brothers, coaxing out Yuanzhi’s undisguised pleasure under Shangjue’s approving eyes, is only adding to the fire of her own arousal. She can feel the wetness between her own legs, coating the inside of her thighs as she moves to lave the flat of her tongue over Yuanzhi’s nipple. His cock twitches against her ribs when she grazes him with her teeth, his hands pressed flat against the mattress.
Shangguan Qian straightens, kneeling at his hip. “You can touch me, Yuanzhi didi,” she purrs, dipping forward so that her breasts press against him. Yuanzhi’s eyes flicker, first to her and then, unerringly, to Shangjue, still silent beside the bed.
Gong Shangjue just raises his eyebrows, that small smile still playing across his lips. “Didn’t you say you were going to spoil him, Shangguan Qian?” he asks mildly, and Yuanzhi’s hands clench in the blanket spread out under him.
Shangguan Qian slants a look over at Gong Shangjue. “Didn’t you say we would do it together?”
His smile grows, pleased and predatory. “I’m waiting for the right moment.” He nods at Yuanzhi, who is listening to their exchange, a little wrinkle between his eyebrows as he frowns. “Let him enjoy your attention.” He leans forward, wrapping one palm around Yuanzhi’s wrist. Shangguan Qian can’t help but notice the way Yuanzhi’s hand relaxes instantly, releasing the rumpled cloth. “There is nothing you could do, little brother,” Gong Shangjue says softly, “that I would begrudge you.”
Gong Yuanzhi watches his brother sit back again, and only when Gong Shangjue lifts his cup again, nonchalant and easy, does Gong Yuanzhi’s attention come back to Shangguan Qian.
She smiles, uncaring whether it is sharp around the edges. “Well then.” Shangguan Qian climbs over him, letting her hair feather across his skin as she settles decisively between his legs. If Gong Shangjue is leaving things in her hands, she certainly isn’t going to waste the chance. She settles her hands over Gong Yuanzhi’s thighs, feeling the muscles jump in response. Bending down, she exhales deliberately, letting the damp heat of her breath roll across the head of his cock. Yuanzhi’s head lifts slightly, staring at her as she wraps one hand around him.
“Get a pillow, Yuanzhi didi,” she advises, feeling saliva pool in her mouth as she looks down at his cock. “You should make yourself comfortable.”
She watches his face as she drags her tongue through the precum glistening at the tip. Gong Yuanzhi’s breath whooshes out, cock twitching against her lips. Shangguan Qian moves slowly, teasing, rubbing her wet lips over him before sucking just the head of Yuanzhi’s cock into her mouth. She feels his body reflexively try to thrust up, and lays one arm across his hips, pinning him flat. Shangguan Qian swirls her tongue, hollows her cheeks obscenely, then pulls off with a wet pop. Gong Yuanzhi’s face is flushed, eyes shining as he stares at her lips.
Shangguan Qian presses her mouth to the hollow of his hip, inhaling his scent: something that evokes the green of growing things overlaid with a counterpoint, sharp and unfamiliar. “Who knew,” she murmurs against his skin, “that the Gong family’s poison genius would taste so good.” She brings her lips back to the head of his cock and opens wide, sliding down carefully, inch by inch. Shangguan Qian pauses, flicking her eyes to his face, careful not to catch him with her teeth.
Gong Yuanzhi’s groan shatters the quiet, and he throws his head back, eyes clenching shut. Shangguan Qian pushes down farther, feeling his cock at the back of her throat and swallows, the taste of his precum thick and heady. She sits up and spits into her hand, wrapping it back around the length of him and moving slowly, sliding her palm up and down. It’s not enough of a rhythm to do much, but Gong Yuanzhi’s legs are already trembling, his balls pulling up tight and close to his body. Shangguan Qian watches closely, delighted at how these small touches are almost enough to make him come apart. Tightening her fingers slightly, she wonders if he’s ever been with a woman before or if she is his first.
Shangguan Qian climbs up, slinging her legs across Yuanzhi’s hips, his cock pressed down against his stomach by the weight of her body. Gong Yuanzhi’s eyes fly open again, wide and startled as she moves forward, sliding her slick flesh over him. She twitches slightly as her clit drags over the hard heat of his cock, and his eyes narrow, a familiar, calculating look stealing across his face. Shangguan Qian tilts her head, black hair a shining curtain, and reaches out to press his wrists into the mattress. “None of that now, Yuanzhi didi,” she chides, rolling her hips again and reveling in the way his face goes slack under her. “I must not be pushing you hard enough if you’re still able to pay attention to me.”
Yuanzhi stares up at her, color high in his cheeks. “You’re pushing plenty,” he grits out.
“Oh?” She lifts up, and presses the head of his cock against the slick entrance to her cunt. She feels her body throb in anticipation, and Gong Yuanzhi goes silent under her. Shangguan Qian allows herself to slide down the slightest bit, the head of his cock just barely breaching her. But she doesn’t move further, just perches herself above him and tightens her muscles, body grasping.
There is a rustle in the silence, and Gong Shangjue’s voice thrums through the air. “Shangguan Qian.”
Her cunt sears, arousal spiking sharply, and Shangguan Qian’s eyelids flutter. She can feel the heat in her own cheeks, the flush spreading from her face down to her chest, her nipples tightening. She looks over at Gong Shangjue.
He is still sitting at ease beside the bed, but there is a new tension rolling off of him, and Shangguan Qian has seen the intent in his gaze often enough to recognize it. She glances down. His robes make it impossible to see, but she would gamble anything that underneath the swaths of fabric, his cock is hard. She reaches one hand out to him, and her heart hammers.
“Why don’t you come help me, then?”
For a moment, she thinks he won’t—that she’s misjudged things—and braces herself to watch Gong Shangjue disappear back behind his veil of suspicion. But to her surprise, he sets the cup in his hand to the side and stands, the line of his body spearing the air. He undoes the belt at his waist, fingers unhurried, and drops his outer robe to the floor, stepping over it and lowering himself to kneel on the bed behind her. Gong Yuanzhi’s breath whistles, his chest rising rapidly, and Shangguan Qian feels a gush of wetness between her legs as Gong Shangjue sets his hands on her.
His touch is light, skimming across her stomach and up to cup her breasts, rolling the hardened peaks of her nipples between his fingers. Shangguan Qian gasps, her back arching, the movement forcing her down on Gong Yuanzhi’s hard cock. Their twin moans cut through the quiet, and Gong Shangjue’s hands wrap firmly around her hips pushing her down, down, down until she is pressed flush to Gong Yuanzhi, his whole length sheathed inside her. She hears his breath shuddering, and Gong Yuanzhi’s hands fly down to cover his brother’s, the two of them holding her together, impaled on Yuanzhi’s cock.
Gong Shangjue flattens himself against her, and Shangguan Qian feels the unmistakable shape of his erect cock at the small of her back. Her body tightens involuntarily, and Yuanzhi hisses. She can feel his pulse, an insistent throb against the fluttering clench of her cunt. Shangguan Qian tries to move—she craves friction—but Gong Shangjue’s hands are a vise, forcing her still.
His lips rasp over the skin of her jaw. “Is this what you like, Shangguan Qian?” Gong Shangjue’s voice is soft as silk. “You’ve taken such pleasure, trying to get between Yuanzhi didi and me.” He presses a kiss to the side of her throat, deceptively gentle. “Isn’t this exactly where you want to be?”
Shangguan Qian’s head tips back against him. He’s hardly touched her, and her body is already trembling, straining towards completion. She wonders for a moment, if Gong Shangjue could make her come like this, if she could reach her peak with nothing more than his voice in her ear and his mouth at her neck. She tries to move her hips again. He huffs in amusement, and sets his teeth against her throat.
“Behave,” he warns, mouth hot over her rapidly beating pulse. “I’ll take care of you both.”
And he’s moving, pulling her back and bracing her against him at the same time that he’s lifting, dragging her up the length of Gong Yuanzhi’s cock. It’s a smooth slide, and Shangguan Qian feels her cheeks heat, wondering if Gong Yuanzhi can tell how wet she is, if he has the presence of mind to recognize that she is clinging just as desperately to control as he is. Gong Shangjue drives her back down, and her hand shoots out, grasping Yuanzhi’s forearm for support as Shangjue fucks her on his brother’s cock.
Their breaths twine together, growing more ragged. Shangguan Qian reaches back with her free hand, clinging to Gong Shangjue’s neck, clutching both of them as their rhythm builds and her blood sings in response. She feels her core tightening, her thighs tensing rapidly as Shangjue works her closer and closer to the edge. Shangguan Qian looks down into Gong Yuanzhi’s face, his lips swollen from where he has bitten them himself, jaw tight as he fights to hold back the pleasure that she knows is threatening to overtake him. His eyes meet hers.
Eyes locked on Yuanzhi, Shangguan Qian pants, “Are you going to let him come inside me, Gong Shangjue?” Her voice is breathless; she scarcely recognizes it. Gong Yuanzhi’s hands spasm where they are still layered over his brother’s on her hips. Gong Shangjue’s breath is hot against her ear, and her skin pulls as he slips one hand out from under Yuanzhi’s, letting it drift down, grazing over her clit and making her jerk. Then his clever fingers are slipping between the folds of her sopping cunt, pressing one in alongside his brother’s cock.
When he speaks, she can tell that Gong Shangjue is smiling. “Would you like that, Yuanzhi didi?” he asks, and Shangguan Qian shudders as he pumps his finger in and out, the stretch so good and not quite enough. She tries to grind against him, but Shangjue’s other hand is still clamped around her hip. “I know how this feels, how hot and tight she is around you.” He pulls his finger out, slick and glistening in the soft light. “Look how wet we’ve made her.” Gong Shangjue lowers his hand again, and this time he presses his fingers deliberately over Shangguan Qian’s throbbing clit.
She keens, her body rippling, fighting to move, to gain the precious friction that will send her careening unstoppably towards climax. Gong Yuanzhi makes a sound then, a groan that sounds torn from his throat, and she feels his hips buck, his cock pressing impossibly deep. Her cunt clenches, trying to hold him tight inside her, but Gong Shangjue has other ideas.
“You’re so hungry for it, Shangguan Qian.” He raises her hips and slams her back down, his voice all velvet and self-satisfaction as his fingers work over her clit. Shangguan Qian’s cries are needy, desperate—lacking pride—and she hates that he can pull these sounds from her. Her fingers dig into Yuanzhi’s arm, the other hand fisted in the hair at Shangjue’s nape, as her body teeters. Gong Shangjue’s fingers are merciless, driving her pleasure higher, until her mouth falls open, that final, inexorable tightening unfurling from her throbbing clit.
“That’s it,” Gong Shangjue whispers into her ear. “Come on Yuanzhi didi’s cock. Make him come too.” And Shangguan Qian explodes. She is a puppet with her strings cut, orgasm ripping through her. Her limbs go slack as her body shudders, cunt tightening around Yuanzhi’s cock, pulsing spasmodically as she comes, pinioned between the two brothers.
She feels it the moment when Gong Yuanzhi tips over the edge, how his cock expands impossibly followed by the heat of his cum inside her, the way the sounds of his thrusts go sloppy and wet as it drips down, coating his cock. Gong Shangjue continues to move her body, fingers playing over her swollen flesh until she whines in discomfort, sheened in sweat and oversensitive in the wake of her orgasm. He presses his mouth against her jaw one more time, and Shangguan Qian’s fingers go slack, arms dropping. She tips forward, collapsing against Yuanzhi’s bare chest and closes her eyes, rapid breaths slowing, her cheek smashed against his breastbone. She can hear Yuanzhi’s heart pounding beneath his ribs, chest rising and falling as they both melt, boneless, into the bed beneath them.
Gong Shangjue’s palm rubs over the small of her back, sticking slightly against her damp skin. She hears the soft sounds of fabric moving, a current of air kissing the backs of her thighs as she lays there, splayed out with Yuanzhi’s cock still inside her. Gong Shangjue’s other hand smoothes over the curve of her ass, kneading the bare flesh. Shangguan Qian doesn’t even react, just lies there, motionless, feeling his touch wander down between her legs, dipping into the wetness there just like he had earlier that morning. But instead of trailing up her back, this time his slick fingers stop, lingering and thoughtful, tracing over the tight furl of her ass. Shangguan Qian blinks, but doesn’t move. Gong Shangjue has never shown much interest in any part of her other than her mouth or her cunt, but she feels the slow strokes of his fingers as he gathers the wetness painting the inside of her thighs, smearing it across her unstretched hole.
There’s a wet sound half a second before she feels his spit hit her skin, the hot slide of it down the cleft of her ass to meet his fingers, still pushing gently. Her body is already loose and rubbery from her orgasm, and it hardly twinges when Gong Shangjue slips the tip of his finger inside, just breaching her. Shangguan Qian shifts minutely, tucking her face into Yuanzhi’s chest, but she makes no attempt to move away.
Gong Shangjue lets out a low hum of approval, and she feels his finger press deeper. He scoops the wetness dripping from her cunt—a mixture of Yuanzhi’s cum and her own juices—and uses them to ease his way in, pumping his finger in and out, the drag of it reigniting something under Shangguan Qian’s skin. When he adds a second finger, the stretch makes her brow furrow, sensation giving way to an ache as he pushes into her, and Shangguan Qian can’t stop her hips from dipping; but there is nowhere to go except to press herself against Gong Yuanzhi below her. His eyelids flutter, and Shangguan Qian knows without looking when he sees what his brother is doing: his cock twitches inside of her, and Gong Yuanzhi reaches down to hold her cheeks apart as Shangjue continues to open her up.
It’s not a bad feeling, the stretch and the fullness of it. Shangguan Qian shifts her hips a little, trying to push back, but then his fingers are pulling out of her. She whines at the loss, struck by the sudden feeling of emptiness, and looks back over her shoulder. Gong Shangjue is shucking off his robe, eyes on her stretched hole. He reaches down and lifts out a small bottle, uncapping it. The scent of bay flower fills the space, overpowering the smells of sex and sweat. Gong Yuanzhi’s hands tighten around the globes of her ass, spreading her wide, and Gong Shangjue watches her face as he tips the bottle. Her body jerks as the cool oil spatters against her heated flesh, and she feels the growing fullness of Gong Yuanzhi’s cock inside her as he hardens again.
This time, Gong Shangjue starts with two fingers, the oil smoothing his way as he pushes them back into her ass. Shangguan Qian chokes a little on the surprised moan it pulls out of her, spine curving, lifting her partway up off of Gong Yuanzhi’s cock. Gong Shangjue’s palm presses down on the small of her back again, forcing her back down as he tucks the tip of a third finger alongside the first two, stretching her further. It aches sharply, like pressing a finger to a bruise, and Shangguan Qian mewls, hips twisting, unsure whether she’s trying to move closer or get away. Gong Shangjue shushes her, fingers twisting as he presses the oil deeper inside her. Beneath her, Gong Yuanzhi’s head thunks suddenly back against the mattress, and Shangguan Qian realizes he must feel the motion inside her, the pressure through the walls of her cunt, Gong Shangjue driving both of them to distraction with only a few fingers.
By the time Gong Shangjue pulls his fingers out, slicking his swollen cock with extra oil, Shangguan Qian is sweating, still held flat against Gong Yuanzhi beneath her. Her splayed legs are shaking slightly, whether from the strain or the interminable teasing of Gong Shangjue’s fingers, she can’t say. Gong Yuanzhi’s cock is fully hard, a heavy pressure inside her, but he is similarly trapped, motionless except for an occasional, irrepressible flex of his hips. Neither of them can get any leverage, forced to wait for Gong Shangjue to decide when to grant them the chance to move, to conjure the slide and drag and pull that both of their bodies are yearning for.
Shangguan Qian feels the blunt head of Gong Shangjue’s cock against her ass, not really pushing yet, just resting there, nudging against her. He had taken his time stretching her, but she still feels a little thrill of fear as his hand slides up her spine, and he presses between her shoulder blades, forcing her ass into the air. Shangguan Qian tucks her face into Gong Yuanzhi’s throat, a moan dragging out of her as the motion grinds her clit against his pubic bone, and she feels her inner muscles flutter. She’d had no inkling, when she’d put on Shangjue’s robe this morning, that she—who is always aware of the transactional nature of sex and prides herself on using her body strategically—would feel so wildly out of control. In this moment, she doesn’t even care if at the end of this Gong Shangjue trusts her more or is willing to help her take revenge: she just wants him to put his cock in her already.
Unexpectedly, it’s Gong Yuanzhi’s voice that splits the tension. Yuanzhi has been largely silent aside from muffled moans and guttural breaths scraping out of him. He and Shangguan Qian have almost ignored one another since Shangjue joined them on the bed, entranced by his orchestration of pulling pleasure from their bodies. But as Gong Shangjue presses his cock against her ass, slow but persistent against her stretched rim, Gong Yuanzhi wraps one hand in the long hair spilling across her shoulders and pulls, dragging her face up so that he can look at her.
“You feel like you’re ready to come already, Shangguan Qian.” It is almost a snarl. “I can feel how wet your cunt is getting, clenching on my cock.” He pulls her hair sharply, forcing her head back further, and Shangguan Qian gasps, her body reacting exactly as he said, squeezing around the length of him. The skin between them is slippery, soaked from her arousal and his release. Gong Yuanzhi lifts a hand, running his fingers along her bottom lip; his fingers are different than Shangjue’s, the calluses of poison-making an unfamiliar pattern catching against her skin. Yuanzhi’s eyes are dark, pupils blown wide as he pushes two fingers into her mouth. “You just need to be filled up,” he whispers, pressing her tongue flat, and he glances up over her shoulder at Gong Shangjue. “Why don’t we give her what she wants?”
And as in all things, the two brothers seem to be in agreement. Gong Shangjue’s next push forward is not teasing. He presses the wide head of his cock against her ass, the pressure hot and insistent, and this time Shangguan Qian feels her body yield, opening to suck him inside. He sinks in partway, entry eased by the oil, but it is still a stretch, a sharp sting as her body tries to accommodate the girth of his cock. Shangguan Qian shudders, muscles tightening, not sure if she’s trying to pull him deeper or push him out. All she knows is that it’s not enough. She reaches down, trying to worm her hand between their bodies to reach her throbbing clit—ten seconds would be all she needs to tip herself over the edge—but Gong Shangjue, hawklike eyes ever-watchful, sees and grabs first one arm and then the other, twisting them together behind her back.
Gong Yuanzhi laughs softly, releasing her hair and slipping his fingers from her lips. He lifts his head, pressing his mouth over her chest, teeth scraping. Shangguan Qian is half suspended between them, Gong Shangjue holding both of her wrists as Gong Yuanzhi licks and nips across her delicate flesh, red marks flaring each time he lifts his mouth. It’s almost enough to distract her from the feeling of Gong Shangjue pulling his cock back, but when he thrusts back in, there is no mistaking it. She feels split open, spread impossibly wide as he sinks in to the root, stilling for a moment when they’re skin to skin. Shangguan Qian’s fingers curl reflexively where they’re pinned at the small of her back, searching for something to hold onto. Shangjue’s free hand comes down to spread her open again, and she can tell, in the silence, that he’s looking at her—eyes swallowing up the sight of her hole fluttering around his thick cock while Yuanzhi’s cock plugs up her sopping cunt. Shangjue’s finger traces around the sensitive rim of her ass, and she can’t stop herself from pushing back.
He chuffs out a laugh. “What do you say, Yuanzhi didi?” His tone is so casually conversational for someone balls-deep inside her trembling body. “Should we see how long it takes for her to come with both of us fucking her?”
Gong Yuanzhi doesn’t have to say anything—the smirk that spreads across his face is answer enough.
Gong Shangjue releases Shangguan Qian’s arms, and she tries to brace herself against Yuanzhi’s chest. Yuanzhi’s hands return to her hips, starting a slow motion, more of a grind than anything, but she feels the press of his cock deep inside her. She wants to come, her body clutching around both of them, shivery with pleasure. Gong Shangjue begins his own rhythm, pulling half out before fucking forward again, Shangguan Qian’s clit rubbing against Yuanzhi below her with each thrust. Her breath comes out in desperate little puffs, the hot slide of Shangjue’s cock rubbing against Yuanzhi’s through the thin membrane separating them.
Her mouth falls open when they start to move together. Yuanzhi still doesn’t have much leverage, but he begins to flex his hips in tandem with Shangjue, both of them pressing their cocks as deep as they can inside her. Shangguan Qian’s eyes roll back, pleasure licking through her body, and a whine drags out of her. She feels the rumble of Yuanzhi’s laugh against her forearms where she is braced against his chest, but she can’t even find it in her to be annoyed with him when her body is blazing.
“Ge.” She hears the amusement in Gong Yuanzhi’s voice. “Hold her up for me.”
Shangjue’s hands come around her ribs and lift, raising her upper body so that she’s suspended over Yuanzhi where he lays flat against the bed. Gong Shangjue’s hands cup her breasts, fingers playing over one of her hardened nipples; the gentle touch is a strange contrast to the relentless pounding of his cock in her ass.
Gong Yuanzhi puts two of his own fingers into his mouth, drawing them out slick with spit, a tendril of saliva stretching as he moves. Shangguan Qian watches until it snaps, and when Yuanzhi meets her eyes and smirks, her whole body shudders in anticipation. He reaches between them, clever fingers unerringly going to her clit, the flesh swollen and red, and Shangguan Qian mewls, hips bucking. It feels so good, the pressure of his fingers as Shangjue continues fucking her from behind. Yuanzhi starts out hesitant, but he’s a fast learner. He reads the responses of her body, cataloguing when her limbs jerk or her eyelids flutter, and repeats the motions that drive her wild. Gong Shangjue’s breath is loud in her ear as Yuanzhi’s fingers slide in circles around her clit.
“Harder.” Gong Shangjue’s suggestion is a rasp against her jaw, and her body throbs as Yuanzhi obeys. Her core clenches, and Shangguan Qian feels her body tightening, heat spreading outward from where Yuanzhi’s fingers flicker against her.
“Yes,” she gasps, grabbing Yuanzhi’s wrist with both hands. “Don’t you dare stop.”
He doesn’t. If anything, Gong Yuanzhi moves faster. Shangjue’s thrusts pick up speed to match, pushing her more firmly against Yuanzhi’s hand. Shangguan Qian clutches his arm, nails digging in as her body tries to lock down around their cocks, to hold them inside and cling to the sensation of being so overwhelmingly full. Yuanzhi’s breaths are coming in fast as he watches her, the muscles of his abdomen gone tight, eyes almost feverish as he watches her face.
Shangguan Qian is dangling on a precipice. Her thighs quake. She can feel her hair sticking to her sweat-slicked neck. Gong Shangjue hunches backward and starts to jackrabbit into her, the motion of his cock pressing Yuanzhi’s deeper inside her cunt. Yuanzhi’s fingers flick across her clit. Her eyes fall shut, chest heaving. Shangjue’s cock drags out, and when he fucks back in, hard enough that it reverberates through her, something shakes loose. Her body lets go, her orgasm cresting like a tidal wave, pleasure tearing through her so fiercely it borders on pain. Shangguan Qian’s entire body tightens, vise-like, around both cocks inside her, flesh pulsing. Gong Shangjue groans, forehead pressed into her shoulderblades as the waves of her orgasm squeeze around his cock, the clench of her muscles forcing him still. Shangguan Qian’s mouth falls open, a strangled scream wrenched from her throat as pleasure overwhelms her.
Things go hazy after that, her body like a ragdoll between them, aware only of brief flashes before being pulled back under by sensation: her body flattened against Yuanzhi, mouth open and drool puddling on his chest. The sting of a bite on her neck. The sudden emptiness of Shangjue pulling his cock from her body followed by the hot spray of his cum over her back. A twinge in her thigh from the angle her leg is bent at. Gong Yuanzhi’s groan against her ear as he comes inside her a second time.
When Shangguan Qian finally comes back to herself, it’s to a sensation of enveloping warmth. She lets out a little sigh, burrowing against the smooth skin under her cheek. She breathes in deeply, inhaling the smells of sex and sweat and the unmistakable scent of Gong Shangjue. She forces her eyes open, feeling her muscles protest as she shifts her naked body against him, lifting her head to look.
Gong Shangjue’s eyes are closed, but she can tell he is awake. There is a small, eminently satisfied smile on his face, and his fingers trail lightly over her back. He is wearing the robe that she discarded earlier, carelessly belted so that a swath of his chest is exposed. Shangjue’s eyes slit open, and he makes a little humming sound seeing her staring down at him.
“I’m surprised you’re awake,” he tells her, bringing his other hand up to take hold of her chin. Shangguan Qian watches him, his face soft and relaxed in a way that she’s never seen before. Gong Shangjue slowly raises his head and, with eyes still partly open, presses his lips to hers. Shangguan Qian is so taken aback, she barely reacts. It’s a chaste kiss, dry and closed-lipped, but something about it is more intimate than any of the ways he touched her body earlier. Her breath shudders out when he pulls back, and he rubs his thumb over her bottom lip.
“You were so generous,” Gong Shangjue breathes out, his nose nearly touching hers, eyes tracing the contours of her face. He releases her chin, laying back against the cushions again. Shangguan Qian glances around the room, then folds her arms across Shangjue’s chest, pillowing her cheek on top of them. She looks up at him.
“Yuanzhi didi?” His absence feels conspicuous after everything. She’s surprised to find herself wishing for the warmth of his body along her exposed back, the desire for his company strange and unsettling.
Gong Shangjue smiles again, tucking one hand behind his head. He threads the other through her wild hair, carding his fingers through the tangles, gentle pressure on her scalp. “Have you warmed to him now, Shangguan Qian?” He looks down at her, and Shangguan Qian glances away, strangely embarrassed, as though it would be a flaw to admit any new feelings of tenderness. “Yuanzhi didi is the one who cleaned you up,” Shangjue offers, deliberately casual. His hand smoothes down her back. “I told him he could leave it…but he insisted.”
Gong Shangjue doesn’t need to say anything else. Shangguan Qian understands what he is telling her: that Gong Yuanzhi, without any direction from his brother, had chosen to care for her. And not where she could see it and he could lord his moral superiority over her. Instead he had done so quietly, while she was barely conscious—a peace offering with no expectations or agenda.
It is the last thing she expected.
Shangguan Qian traces a finger across the exposed part of Gong Shangjue’s chest. “I’m surprised,” she admits, almost a whisper. And she is. Sex certainly hadn’t dispelled the suspicion between her and Gong Shangjue when, weeks ago, he had invited her into the bath with him. She would never have anticipated that Gong Yuanzhi, with all his prickles, would change his feelings about her because of physical intimacy. But then again, it hadn’t just been sex; it had been…
Her eyelids flutter, remembering the feeling of being held between the two brothers, their eyes locked over her shoulder as they wrung pleasure from her body.
It had been something else.
The soft tread of feet entering the room draws Shangguan Qian back to the present. She looks over her shoulder. Gong Yuanzhi is sliding the doors shut, his own dark robe clinging to his damp skin as he moves. When he turns back, there is something hesitant in his eyes, almost as though, now that the fervor has passed, he is unsure of his welcome.
Shangguan Qian watches him thoughtfully. Gong Shangjue’s hand stills in her hair, but he is silent. Waiting.
This is the turning point, Shangguan Qian suddenly realizes. Not when she had lowered herself into Gong Shangjue’s lap; not when she had undressed Gong Yuanzhi or taken his cock into her mouth. This.
She reaches out, palm open. “Yuanzhi didi.”
Gong Yuanzhi blinks. For a moment, he looks very young–too young to be the head of the Zhi lineage, or a poison genius, or any of the roles that have fallen on his shoulders.
Shangguan Qian feels a smile rise unbidden to the surface, irrepressible and soft. “Come.” She beckons him again, and he steps forward, still uncertain, to carefully take her hand.
She reels him in, pulling Gong Yuanzhi back down onto the rumpled covers of the bed beside her, his front slotting along her back. She drapes his arm around her waist, holding him close as she tucks her head back into the cradle of Shangjue’s shoulder. Yuanzhi is a line of tension against her, holding himself perfectly still. Her hair pulls slightly as Gong Shangjue stretches his arm out, palm wrapping around the back of Yuanzhi’s neck. Nothing has changed between them, these Gong brothers; Yuanzhi is still first in Gong Shangjue’s heart. No matter what happens, what new people come into their lives or how their roles shift, that is one thing that will never change. Shangguan Qian may lie in the space between them, but she will never separate them.
The tension drains out of Yuanzhi’s body, and he lays his head down in Shangjue’s hand, tucking his nose behind Shangguan Qian’s ear. His warm breath fans across her neck, and a soft sigh of contentment escapes her. She slings one leg across Gong Shangjue, her lips curving as she realizes how thoroughly entangled she is with these two men. There is no Gong Shangjue without Gong Yuanzhi–and there is no place for her in the Gong family unless she chooses to embrace them both.
“Saozi.”
Shangguan Qian’s eyes fly open at the sound of Yuanzhi’s voice, and the first thing she sees is Gong Shangjue’s catlike smile, his eyes half open, radiating satisfaction. She half-turns over her shoulder, stunned to hear Gong Yuanzhi address her as “sister-in-law” with nothing but sincerity. His arm tightens around her, and she stares as he burrows his face between her shoulder blades, forehead pressing against her skin. Yuanzhi’s eyes are closed, a faint smile softening his features.
“You may come to regret inviting me into your bed,” he murmurs against her back. His voice is teasing, but underneath it, there is something vulnerable—the raw edges of a question that is too difficult to ask directly. Shangguan Qian lays her head back down on Shangjue’s chest and squeezes Yuanzhi’s wrist, holding firm.
“Never, Yuanzhi didi,” she says softly, the sound of Gong Shangjue’s heart thudding solidly under her cheek. And she finds, to her surprise, that she means it. Whatever else may come later, she will not regret this.
Shangjue shifts slightly, and she feels his broad palm envelop hers where she holds Yuanzhi, anchoring the three of them together. “Never,” he repeats, and Shangguan Qian feels Yuanzhi’s breath shudder out of him, finally able to hear the answer Gong Shangjue had been trying to give him, to the question he was too afraid to ask.
None of them move for a long time, holding onto one another as the sunlight goes golden and the shadows lengthen. Shangguan Qian thinks of her clan, of the bloody past, of her unfulfilled revenge. She listens to Gong Shangjue’s steady breathing, feels the warmth of Gong Yuanzhi’s body curled around her bare skin.
I can’t have both, she realizes, the regret hitting her so strongly that her throat tightens, choking. She swallows, the grief thick in her mouth. The loss of her clan has driven her for so many years—she has shaped herself around it. There is no Shangguan Qian without this burning need and the pursuit of vengeance.
Who would I even be, she wonders, if I could let it go?
Yuanzhi’s arm has gone limp around her, his breathing fallen into the slow cadence of sleep. Shangguan Qian thinks of Yuanzhi ten years younger, when Wufeng had slaughtered the rest of the Zhi lineage–how his world must have tilted. She pictures Gong Shangjue, carved open by the loss of his family; it is a wound she knows will never heal. But pain had forged the two of them together—Gong Yuanzhi and Gong Shangjue—brothers in truth.
Shangguan Qian clenches her jaw, fighting to harden her heart. Her loss is not theirs. It has not cleaved her to them in the same indelible fashion. She will never succeed in convincing the Gong family to risk their own to avenge another sect. For all that she has told herself she can convince Gong Shangjue of the benefits—make him see that helping her would also help the Gong family—she knows now, deep down, that the lives here are too precious and too few.
In this, she is alone. And really, Shangguan Qian’s thoughts echo as her vision blurs, what other choice do I have?
A tear falls, and Gong Shangjue stirs slightly. Shangguan Qian freezes. She had assumed he, like Yuanzhi, had drifted off and curses herself for not paying more attention. Shangjue’s hand leaves the place where it encircles her and Yuanzhi, and strong fingers grasp her chin. The touch is gentle, but unrelenting, and Shangguan Qian cannot fight it when he tips her face up so that he can look at her.
She keeps her eyes down, trying to avoid his gaze.
“Shangguan Qian.” He doesn’t ask her what is wrong or question why her eyes are filled with tears. Gong Shangjue just keeps that firm pressure under her chin until she finally gives in. But when she raises her eyes to Shangjue’s face, the smugness that had been there earlier is gone, replaced by something else: a kind of fragile understanding.
Gong Shangjue knows the power that grief holds, how stubbornly it lingers and how helplessness can overwhelm in the face of it. He stares down at her, and Shangguan Qian has the sudden feeling that once again he had heard the unspoken question—this time the one that came from her.
“Stay,” he whispers.
It is answer enough.