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Mobei-Jun was not sure when his affection for Shang Qinghua grew into something more. Perhaps the seed had been planted during the time of their first meeting. Being taken care of so earnestly by someone had been a new kind of feeling. Especially when he realized he did not have to worry over being attacked in his sleep.
Mobei-Jun remembers it clearly. During that time, he'd awoken in the middle of the night while suffering from a fever. His head had been throbbing despite the pleasantly cool cloth resting against his heated forehead. Delirious from sickness, Mobei-Jun had struggled to process where he was for a moment. He had stared at the ceiling, blinking spots from his vision. A shuffling by his hand and warm fingers brushing against his caused Mobei-Jun to jolt. His eyes dropped to the lump beside the bed. There he saw Shang Qinghua hunched over, cheek squished against the sheets and snoring lightly. His hair was in disarray, he had a damp patch of drool beneath his face, and there was noticeable bruising beneath his eyes.
In that moment Mobei-Jun felt his heart skip a beat. Though he’d fallen asleep soon after, the memory had stuck with him. As did the knowledge that around Shang Qinghua, Mobei-Jun appeared to have no trouble sleeping. In fact he’d enter such a deep state of sleep that he woke up disoriented the first few times. Yet once Mobei-Jun had gotten a taste of what genuine good sleep felt like, he’d grown addicted.
Mobei-Jun had begun to equate Shang Qinghua’s scent, his mere presence, as safety. Yet he’d been a dumb brat at the time. Spoiled and unwilling to look past his own pride to admit he cared for the mousy little human. This led to him making blunders. Hurting Shang Qinghua with his words, with his actions. Even when he’d gotten around to showing Shang Qinghua he cared by beating him so often, never did it cross his mind that what he was doing wasn’t something humans liked. Once more Mobei-Jun’s pride caused him to hurt what he found precious. And his foolishness had nearly cost him it all.
It wasn’t till Shang Qinghua had left that Mobei-Jun reached a point of clarity. And yet at the same time, he felt driven to madness. He felt like a wild dog, foaming at the mouth and snapping at anyone that crossed his path. There was a deep looming chasm in Mobei-Jun’s chest that appeared as if it was swallowing him whole. It was a torture with no end. And each day it only grew more excruciating. Mobei-Jun was convinced that eventually Luo Binghe would need to put him down like a rabid animal just to finally end his torment. Even in the past when he had to worry about being stabbed in his sleep, Mobei-Jun had never felt this level of anxiety. Of fear . He was desperate to find Shang Qinghua, to drag him back by whatever means necessary. How could Mobei-Jun be expected to right his wrongs if he could not find his Qinghua?
However, beyond belief, he found him. Somehow. And in Shang Qinghua’s absence Mobei-Jun had vowed to learn. He would do what was necessary to meet all of Qinghua’s needs. He would compromise, lay down his pride. Mobei-Jun would offer up his neck for Qinghua’s blade if he so truly wished for it. Mobei-Jun would make it so Shang Qinghua would never again wish to leave his King. And yet…
Shang Qinghua would still leave. Not permanently. He’d commute from the Northern Desert to Cang Qiong, then back again. This wasn’t new. It’s what he’d done before. And yet every time Shang Qinghua bid him farewell and left, Mobei-Jun felt a swooping drop in his chest. That chasm he thought filled would once again reopen. Mobei-Jun would then be dogged by a feeling he wished to leave unnamed. Only upon Shang Qinghua’s safe return would the weight in Mobei-Jun’s ribs lessen enough for his breath to come easier.
Mobei-Jun hated it.
Why did Shang Qinghua have to leave? Was the North not his home? What had Cang Qiong ever done for Shang Qinghua that Mobei-Jun had not done better? Shang Qinghua already spent more time here than he did in the Human Realm. And for all the labor and endless nights Shang Qinghua had spent for that ungrateful sect, they did not give him the proper recognition he deserved! Mobei-Jun did. He praised Qinghua’s efforts, acknowledged his advice and heeded it. In Mobei-Jun’s palace, Shang Qinghua got the respect he rightfully deserved.
Shang Qinghua was feared in Mobei-Jun’s palace. And it made his breast swell with pride to see the servants cower and defer to his little human. It was a warm, pleasing sweetness that coiled in his gut when Shang Qinghua showed glimpses of his brilliant mind and the brutality hidden beneath his simpering amber eyes. Oftentimes Mobei-Jun would find himself hovering in the shadows of his own palace just to witness Shang Qinghua berate an unruly servant or a foolish council member. The times it would leave Shang Qinghua’s hands stained with blood were his most favourite.
Shang Qinghua, whether he knew it or not, was effectively controlling Mobei-Jun’s palace the way an Empress would. With a cold brutality to those who posed a threat to the King. Yet with a forgiving edge to those most loyal. That didn’t even mention how smoothly his palace ran with Shang Qinghua managing the staff and paperwork. Shang Qinghua was a valuable asset wasted on Cang Qiong. If Mobei-Jun had it his way, Shang Qinghua would never even need to look at Cang Qiong again.
Mobei-Jun paused, having been making his way through the inner palace as he contemplated his little cultivator situation. Why did Shang Qinghua wish to keep working with Cang Qiong? Was it possibly for assurance that, if Mobei-Jun cast him aside, he would have somewhere to return to? That was a possibility. Shang Qinghua was always the type to have several backup plans for if the first dozen fell through. But then how would Mobei-Jun even begin to assure Shang Qinghua he had a place by his King’s side?
But then Mobei-Jun thought back to something he’d equated Shang Qinghua to. How he ran the North like an Empress. Well if his subjects already feared Shang Qinghua as they would the Queen of the North, was it not Mobei-Jun’s duty to grant the title officially to Shang Qinghua? And any that opposed would choke on their blood as Mobei-Jun punched a hole through their chest. That would surely silence any and all detractors.
*★°.*.☆.*.°★*
“Qinghua.”
Shang Qinghua shifted onto his stomach, brows scrunching as a voice called to him. It pierced through the fog of sleep, slowly dragging him up towards wakefulness.
“Qinghua.”
Soft lips were pressed against a freckled shoulder, the edge of a sharp canine dragging against warm skin. Shang Qinghua shuddered, humming low as he leaned into the next peppering of kisses. The sensation was so soothing Shang Qinghua could feel his consciousness slipping from him. The overworked human was more than content to let himself drift off back to sleep. Yet then a pair of freezing hands slipped beneath the covers and plastered themselves against Shang Qinghua’s sensitive naked skin.
“Fucking–!” Shang Qinghua screeched, jolting up and flailing to get away from Mobei-Jun’s offending hands. With a safe distance between them, Shang Qinghua wrapped himself up securely in his blankets before finally sitting up and sending Mobei-Jun a glare. “My King! That’s so uncalled for!”
“Qinghua would not wake.” Mobei-Jun had his arms crossed over his large chest and was staring impassively at Shang Qinghua.
Jutting his lip in a pout, Shang Qinghua sniffed. “Could you blame me? You weren’t exactly gentle last night…” Not that Shang Qinghua was complaining. Compared to the first time they fell into bed together, Mobei-Jun had gotten better! Granted Shang Qinghua’s only experience was with his right hand and his King, so he might be biased on what counted as ‘good sex’. But hey, anything was better than their first try! And his butt was very thankful for it.
Shang Qinghua rubbed at his face, eyes aching as an indication he hadn’t slept enough. Which was… Odd. Usually Mobei-Jun let Shang Qinghua sleep in if they went more than two rounds before bed. Upon turning his attention towards one of the room’s windows, Shang Qinghua could see that outside the sky was still dark and littered with stars. He stared for a moment before slowly turning to look at Mobei-Jun.
The two looked at each other, one silently demanding an explanation while the other continued looking on calmly. ‘Fine,’ Shang Qinghua thought, ‘If he’s not going to budge, I guess I’ll be the bigger person and ask!’ Because Shang Qinghua seriously wanted answers. Why the Hell had his King woken him up so early? The sun hadn’t even risen!
“My King… Is there a reason why you woke me up…?”
It had to have been for something important. Otherwise why was Mobei-Jun so dressed up? More-so than usual! He was wearing a set of his finest robes, the embroidery on it made from Moon Spider Silk, making it glitter like shimmering scales even with little light flooding the room. There were several pieces of gauzy blue fabric that draped against his arms and over his robes, thin and fragile silver chains decorating it. He was wearing more jewelry than usual, teardrop sapphires hanging from his ears and from the ice crown adorning his head. That piece itself was what drew Shang Qinghua’s eyes the most.
He rarely, if ever, saw Mobei-Jun wear his crown. Normally Mobei-Jun only wore it for really serious occasions. Like Cucumber-bro’s marriage and Mobei-Jun’s coronation ceremony. Only things of that caliber had Mobei-Jun adorning the full King regalia. And yet here he was dressed to the nines, crown and all.
“Get dressed,” Was the only instruction Mobei-Jun gave. He grabbed his cloak– one of the fancier ones– from where it lay on the edge of the bed. Mobei-Jun turned, swinging it over his shoulders and fastening it in place as he left the room.
“Wha…” Shang Qinghua stared after Mobei-Jun helplessly. My King, that doesn’t explain anything! That’s just an order! “Would it kill him to use more words?” With a petulant grumble, Shang Qinghua pulled himself from the bed and began the arduous task of dressing himself for what looked like a serious fancy shindig.
Shang Qinghua had to go digging just to find his more luxurious set of robes dyed in the North’s colors. But judging from how dressed up Mobei-Jun was, it would probably be an insult if Shang Qinghua wore his normal robes. Granted it’s not like there was a point. Compared to Mobei-Jun, Shang Qinghua would look like some mutated fish pulled from the darkest depths. It was hard to look good with that fine specimen by his side outshining him! Not that Shang Qinghua was complaining. Every day he thanked himself for writing such blessed eyecandy.
The human stumbled from his room, looking around for his King just as a thick cloak was dropped over his shoulders. Shang Qinghua startled, catching the ends with his hands and looking up to Mobei-Jun.
“Wear this.”
Shang Qinghua looked at the cloak around his shoulders. It appeared quite new. The buttery soft fabric was heavenly against his hands. And the thick white fur lining the collar was just as soft. It would no doubt keep Shang Qinghua warm from even the harshest of blizzards. For a moment he thought it was probably one of Mobei-Jun’s cloaks. But then he realized it was far too small for his King, yet it was the perfect size for Shang Qinghua. Did Mobei-Jun have this made specifically for Shang Qinghua?
“Thank you,” He murmured, securing the claps around his shoulders so it wouldn’t slip. “My King, may I ask why we’re going somewhere this early?”
“No.”
Well at least he answered. Shang Qinghua rolled his eyes, following after Mobei-Jun through a portal his King created. They emerged in a dense, snow-laden forest. The air was still with the quiet of night, nary a bug making lone chirps. The barks of the trees were a bright white that caused them to nearly blend in completely with the snow around them. However the foliage of the trees themselves were a deep shade of blue, lighter azure coloured blossoms scattered about the white branches. There was a fine layer of powdery snow atop the trees, an indication that it most likely just recently snowed.
“Wow,” Shang Qinghua exhaled a chilled breath, turning around in a complete circle in order to soak in the sight. “It’s so pretty.”
At his side Mobei-Jun hummed, a look of satisfaction softening his sharp gaze. He nodded once before turning and leading Shang Qinghua through the dense collection of trees.
Shang Qinghua was content to walk in silence for a bit, but his curiosity was quickly growing too much to bear. He looked around, eager to catch maybe a glimpse of a building or a structure that would indicate as to why they’d arrived here. And for what reason they might’ve had to dress up for it. “My King, I know you said no to telling me why we’re going somewhere, but can you at least tell me where we’re going?”
Mobei-Jun glanced over his shoulder at Shang Qinghua, staring for a moment before facing forward. “We are going to the Grove of Crystalling Air.”
“Oh?” Shang Qinghua had never heard of this place before. Which was saying something since he wrote this world! Then again maybe it shouldn’t be so surprising. It’s been so long since Shang Qinghua transmigrated to his book. Plus he’d written so many chapters. There was just no way for him to remember everything.
“... Does Qinghua know of it?”
Shang Qinghua didn’t seem to notice the hesitation in Mobei-Jun’s voice. He was too busy trying to make sure he didn’t faceplant in the snow. “No, I don’t think so. I mean I assume it’s somewhere in the North since we’re still surrounded by so much snow, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of this grove before.”
“Mmm. Good.” Mobei-Jun nodded in satisfaction, “It is a place known only by my mother’s clan.”
Ah . That would explain why Shang Qinghua knew nothing about it. He’d not written a single thing about Mobei-Jun’s mother other than the basics for Mobei-Jun’s backstory. But from his time living in this world, Shang Qinghua had learned that Mobei-Jun’s mother came from a clan of ice demons. They were said to be as graceful as fallen snow with a beauty sharper than any blade. However Shang Qinghua never had the opportunity to meet any of them. Mobei-Jun’s father had wiped out the clan soon after stealing and marrying Mobei-Jun’s mother. An act to prevent her from ever leaving him. For where would she go if she had no home to return to?
Information on Mobei-Jun’s mother was precious, especially so when coming from the mouth of his King. He kept the memories of his mother, however sparse they were, close to his chest. It was rare he would speak of her to Shang Qinghua. And each time it happened, Shang Qinghua felt his heart swell with how blatantly a sign of trust it was.
Mobei-Jun’s mother must’ve told Mobei-Jun about this place. Either verbally or through writing. And his King was granting Shang Qinghua the honor of taking him to such a place. Is that why Mobei-Jun was dressed up? Shang Qinghua wondered if that was the sole reason, or if there just so happened to be more.
They walked deeper through the woods, Mobei-Jun guiding him through a nameless path. When the ground began to slope upwards in a rather steep hill, Shang Qinghua had to dig his feet into the snow in order to climb. However his shoes still slipped in the snow, Shang Qinghua letting out a choked off sound as he wobbled. Ahead of him Mobei-Jun stopped before turning around and walking back the short distance between them. Mobei-Jun silently held out his hand to Shang Qinghua.
“... Thank you,” Shang Qinghua smiled, reaching out to take the offered hand.
Mobei-Jun laced their fingers together without any effort. Together they made their way back up the hill with Mobei-Jun acting as stability for Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua had been watching where he stepped with such intensity that when the ground shifted from snow to solid stone, he noticed right away. His head shot up in surprise and suddenly he was gasping, not at all expecting the structure before him.
A beautifully carved stone pavilion was sitting at the very top of the hill. The steps leading up to it were made of a similar material. The walls of the pavilion were laced with etches of frost ferns with shards of ice crystals dangling from the outer rim of the roof. Not a drop of snow was on the pavilion itself, nor the steps before it. This was surprising considering just how much snow was blanketing the area around it.
Mobei-Jun led the both of them into the pavilion where a lone bench rested. It was facing the sea of trees ahead of them, the gently glittering snow resting over the blue foliage. It was a lovely sight. Peaceful. As Shang Qinghua sat down beside Mobei-Jun, he couldn’t help but wonder why his King had brought him here.
“My King…”
“Wait. Wait for dawn.”
The way Mobei-Jun spoke had Shang Qinghua turning to look at him. Mobei-Jun was staring with an unreadable expression, the frown on his face particularly serious. Shang Qinghua could feel an anxiousness rise in him over whatever it was putting Mobei-Jun in such a state. But he pushed it down and chose to ignore it. His King had requested Shang Qinghua wait, so he would wait.
They fell into silence, both lost to their own thoughts. At a few points Shang Qinghua would try to spark some conversation, however each time Mobei-Jun gave absentminded hums. It was clear he wasn’t paying attention, so Shang Qinghua let the conversation fade. His King seemed nervous. On the outside his expression may have appeared severe, but Shang Qinghua liked to think he could read his King’s glares. And this one reminded him of how Mobei-Jun looked the first few days after Shang Qinghua returned to him.
That was a time Shang Qinghua was glad to be free from. The relationship between him and his King was better! Communication, though still difficult, was at least a two-way street now. Shang Qinghua wasn’t being beaten, his King sometimes cooked him noodles, and the sex was great! Sure Shang Qinghua would’ve liked more , but he wasn’t stupid enough to fool himself. It’d be delusional to think something more could come of their relationship. Mobei-Jun seemed content with how things were, so Shang Qinghua just had to be content too. Even if he longed for more.
Sometimes Shang Qinghua found his feelings overflowing. He’d just look at his King, see the way Mobei-Jun’s harsh gaze would soften when looking his way, and an overwhelming flood of emotions would well in Shang Qinghua’s throat. He knows he loves Mobei-Jun. Has known for years now. But it was only after they cleared the air that Shang Qinghua felt the tight control he had on his feelings gradually start to slip. And before he knew it, Shang Qinghua was having to force his box of feelings closed just to avoid making a blunder. More than once he’d had to bite his tongue to avoid spilling his guts to his King. When it got too much to handle, Shang Qinghua would say some excuse about work on Cang Qiong needing to be done. There he’d run away, hiding on his mountain and burying himself under piles of paperwork just to avoid his King and, in turn, his feelings.
It wasn’t healthy. Probably. But Shang Qinghua was an expert at ignoring his problems. And unless anything changed, Shang Qinghua was going to continue ignoring them. The last thing he wanted was to be the one to rock the boat. After all, what happens if his King rejects him? Shang Qinghua could handle being beaten, he could handle being cursed at and treated like shit. But if Mobei-Jun were to reject him, Shang Qinghua’s heart would never recover. He would probably break. So Shang Qinghua didn’t want to risk jeopardizing anything for his selfish desires. Shang Qinghua had to be content with whatever his King was willing to give him. He just had to.
Shang Qinghua was pulled from his thoughts by the sounds of ice cracking. He looked up, noticing in the distance over the bough of trees that the sky was turning pink and the stars were beginning to fade. The sun had started to rise and as the rays touched the trees, more ice crackling sounds rose up into the air. It was like a little symphony surrounding Shang Qinghua from all sides. He watched with wide-awe filled eyes as the sun's rays finally touched the grove trees.
The moment the light hit the snow atop the branches, the white powder began to lift upwards into the sky. Like ash and sand blown in the wind, the snow rose on a nameless breeze. They danced along unseen air currents, twisting higher and higher before the entirety of the grove was surrounded by their floating flakes. Then, as they caught the sunlight, those powdery spots of snow hardened into crystalized snowflake shapes. Their translucent teal colour caught the light and began casting coloured hues on their surroundings. A rainbow wash of colour hit the snow on the ground, reflecting against the white powder and the tree bark. The grove lit up in a wash of crystalline colours, the sky overhead glittering with the ice shards as if the night sky had merged with the dawn. The wavering hues blended together, creating a wall of brilliant colour that reminded Shang Qinghua of the Northern Lights, just with sparkly ice shards scattered throughout like glitter.
“Woah…” Shang Qinghua exhaled, at a complete loss for words. The sight was so beautiful, he could do nothing but stand enraptured.
“This is where my mother’s people would scatter the ashes of those that passed,” Mobei-Jun spoke so softly he may as well have been whispering. But Shang Qinghua heard him all the same. His head snapped up to look at Mobei-Jun. He listened, enraptured at what his King was saying. “It is rare for snow to fall in this grove. When it does, my mother’s people believed it was their ancestors descending from the Heavens to play on the Mortal Realm once more. And when dawn arrived, they would return to the Heavens to await the next snowfall.”
Mobei-Jun turned his gaze from Shang Qinghua up towards the blanket of ice crystals dancing in the air around them. He exhaled, the words getting lodged in his throat for but a moment. “I scattered my mother’s ashes here.”
The implications were more than clear. This wasn’t just some secret grove that was precious to Mobei-Jun’s mother and her people. This was their burial grounds. And Mobei-Jun brought Shang Qinghua here and told him about this.
Shang Qinghua could feel his heart swell to the brim with a warm heat, the love he felt once more building in his throat and threatening to burst forth. The urge to confess grew overwhelming. Shang Qinghua’s breath hitched, unable to hold himself back.
“My King…”
“Qinghua.” Mobei-Jun interrupted whatever Shang Qinghua was going to say, effectively saving the human from making a fool of himself. He closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath before looking up.
“Yes, my King?”
Mobei-Jun was looking down at him with an intensity completely at odds with his gentle tone. His shoulders were pulled back and his chin was raised just slightly. He looked as if he was preparing for a fight or something similar. Mobei-Jun’s hand slipped into his cloak, grasping something hidden amongst his robes. Shang Qinghua’s curiosity over what it could be was sidetracked by Mobei-Jun speaking.
“This King has brought Shang Qinghua here for a reason.” Mobei-Jun began, his brows twitching in a small furrow. He searched desperately for his words, trying and failing to find the perfect ones. Mobei-Jun had been agonizing over this for the past week. He’d tried and tried again to plan the best way to phrase this request of his. And yet each time they failed to reach his standards. They had to be perfect for his Qinghua. And nothing he thought of had come even close.
Gritting his teeth, Mobei-Jun tightened his grip on the lacquered box. “This King… Wished for his ancestors to bear witness to this King’s proposal.”
Shang Qinghua’s brows furrowed and he tilted his head to the side, “Eh? ‘Proposal’?” He echoed.
Deciding to just go off his instincts, Mobei-Jun slowly descended till he was kneeling before Shang Qinghua. It was amusing to see how large the other’s eyes got and how he flailed in a panic, looking around as if concerned someone might see Mobei-Jun kneeling before a servant. How silly his Qinghua was. He’d long since shed the moniker of ‘servant’ in Mobei-Jun’s eyes.
“Shang Qinghua, this King values you above all others. Your insight and loyalty has led to the North prospering. Without Qinghua, this King would be lost. His Kingdom would be full of poison and scavengers, all eager to pick at my corpse. But thanks to Qinghua’s efforts, those that wish this King ill have long-since been eliminated. And Qinghua’s aid has not stopped there. This King’s kingdom runs effectively thanks to Qinghua’s efforts. To his dedication.”
Mobei-Jun couldn’t believe the way his hand trembled just the barest amount as he pulled forth the lacquered box. It was a deep bluish brown, the wood polished to perfection. Designs of winter were etched into the wood with silver paint, ornate gems in blues and whites decorating the precious box.
“This King has failed in showing Shang Qinghua just how appreciated he truly is. How valued he is to this King. But if Qinghua would allow it,” With bated breath, Mobei-Jun slowly began to open the box. “This King would like to show how much you matter to him. From now and beyond, even after the flames of our lives have been extinguished. Even in death, this King wishes for Shang Qinghua to remain at his side.”
Inside the box resting on a bed of fur was a beautiful crown. It was similar to Mobei-Jun’s, just smaller and with less decorative ornaments. It had a few dangling loops of thin silver chains that had teardrop sapphires dotting through it. There were silver plates of metal woven to look like frost ferns that lined the bottom of the crown. Thin paint coated the metal ferns, giving them a bluish sheen under the dawn’s light.
“M-my King…” Shang Qinghua gasped, eyes dropping to the crown, then back up to his King. He’d never seen it before, but it didn’t take a genius to notice that it was the match to Mobei-Jun’s crown. Similar in all that mattered, yet with enough differences to distinguish it. A crown locked away after the death of Mobei-Jun’s mother. The crown for the Queen of the Northern Desert. Shang Qinghua knew what this meant. But he couldn’t–! This wasn’t happening… Was it?
“Be this Mobei-Jun’s Queen, Shang Qinghua. Marry him and stay by his side.”
Tears welled in Shang Qinghua’s eyes and he felt his throat clench. The words of love he wished to let loose from his lips were held back by a death grip. Shang Qinghua instead shook his head, biting his bottom lip and stuttering out, “I-I can’t! I can’t give you heirs, I’m a man!” Sure there was the Bamboo Stick of Kaguya or the Blossoming Momotaro Peach, but would a child created from those even be acknowledged as the rightful heir to the North?! “Y-you’d have to get a consort or something if you ended up marrying me!”
“Then the line of Mobei ends with this King. He will have no other but Shang Qinghua.” Mobei-Jun spoke with such a fierce gravity that Shang Qinghua knew he wasn’t kidding.
Shang Qinghua sniffed, the tears beginning to slip down his cheeks as he tried to find another reason why he couldn’t accept. But for some reason Shang Qinghua’s mind was going blank. Despite how much of a quick, on-the-fly schemer he was, Shang Qinghua couldn’t think of another reason. It was as if his brain refused to function after seeing how Mobei-Jun was so eager and ready to wed him. To have no one but Shang Qinghua at his side.
“Y-you sure you won’t regret it?” Shang Qinghua mumbled, shuffling his feet and biting his lip red.
Mobei-Jun’s expression softened, causing Shang Qinghua’s heart to squeeze with a warm type of pain. Slowly he raised a hand, cupping Shang Qinghua’s cheek and brushing away heated tears. “This King will never regret it. Qinghua already owns everything this King can give. If Shang Qinghua asked, this King would rip out his heart and present it to Shang Qinghua.”
“Please don’t.” With a watery laugh and small smile, Shang Qinghua tentatively rested his hand over Mobei-Jun’s. He leaned into the touch, eyelids fluttering closed. “My King…” Hesitating, Shang Qinghua’s voice dropped to a murmur unconsciously. Amidst the crystal painted air with dawn casting the two in a warm, orange glow, Shang Qinghua whispered words he’d vowed to keep locked away forever, “I love you, my King.”
Mobei-Jun’s eyes blew wide before his pupils dilated into slits. He leaned forward, an eager glint sharpening his features. “Does this mean Qinghua accepts? Will he be this King’s Queen?”
Shang Qinghua snorted, grinning at Mobei-Jun, “I’d be the stupidest guy alive to reject such a romantic proposal, wouldn’t I? Yes, my King. If you’ll have me then… I would love to marry you.”
The box was promptly dropped, Mobei-Jun uncaring for the crown inside. Shang Qinghua’s shocked squawk of alarm was cut off as Mobei-Jun surged forward, pulling Shang Qinghua’s face towards him in order to kiss the life out of his bride-to-be. Shang Qinghua instantly melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Mobei-Jun and pressing forward with as much intensity.
Only when the two were breathless did Mobei-Jun pull away. He rested their foreheads together, caressing Shang Qinghua’s cheek lovingly. “Qinghua is this King’s everything.” It wasn’t the same words Shang Qinghua had said, but he understood the sentiments loud and clear. Feeling his heart surge with an indescribable swelling of love, Shang Qinghua felt another wave of tears spill down his cheeks. He laughed, initiating a kiss.
When Shang Qinghua was forced awake this morning, he never thought this is what would lie in wait for him. He can’t say he’s too bothered by it, though. Shang Qinghua had been so prepared to go the rest of his life trying to beat his feelings into submission, and now here his King was basically telling him he didn’t need to anymore. Shang Qinghua could tell Mobei-Jun he loved him and he wouldn’t be rejected. That knowledge was enough to make him feel light-headed.
Giggling like a loon, Shang Qinghua held Mobei-Jun’s face and began peppering kisses over every inch of skin. He was allowed to do that now! So Shang Qinghua was going to be as blatantly shameless as his heart desired. And the way Mobei-Jun’s eyes closed with contentment told Shang Qinghua he was enjoying it just as much. Large hands settled on Shang Qinghua’s waist, holding him close as Mobei-Jun soaked up all the love Shang Qinghua was eagerly handing out.
This didn’t entirely fix Mobei-Jun’s anxiety over leaving. He didn’t think anything would. But at least now he knew that even when Shang Qinghua left for Cang Qiong, his home would be with Mobei-Jun. His Qinghua would know he always had a place at Mobei-Jun’s side. That there was no need to ever run and hide again. Knowing Shang Qinghua had that assurance was a balm to Mobei-Jun’s aching heart. And to himself and his ancestors he made a silent vow. For as long as they were married and beyond, even when death claimed them and froze their bodies stiff, Mobei-Jun would continue showing Shang Qinghua his love. In the afterlife he would wait for his Qinghua. Or if, Heavens forbid, Qinghua passes before him, then Mobei-Jun would willingly join him. For this life matters little to Mobei-Jun if Shang Qinghua is not there with him. It is as he said. Qinghua is his everything.
The End