Archive of Our Own

What am I to do
When I want nothing new
And all I wanted was you
In different shades of blue

- Different Shades of Blue by The Buildings

Shang Qinghua has a new hair crown.

His martial siblings have noticed. He’s been wearing it in all the peak lord meetings and important sect events, and it seems to have permanently replaced his An Ding peak lord crown. 

It’s not that it’s unusual for a peak lord to have a favored crown or to don any other hairpiece besides the one declaring their official peak lord status, but it is certainly peculiar for Shang Qinghua to do so. They’ve never known him to favor jewelry or accessories of any kind. Even Liu Qingge is known to wear the occasional dangly earrings and don a fancier hair crown when the occasion calls for it, more than Shang Qinghua. The only other person to be more understated than the An Ding peak lord is perhaps Ku Xing’s peak lord. 

So. This new hair crown. It’s not as fancy or ornate looking as some of the peak lords’, but it certainly is…more than what they are used to seeing on Shang Qinghua. And the style of it—pure silver, crafted with intricate designs of snowflakes and flurry with accents of blues and the colors of An Ding, finished off with a modest sapphire gem in the middle. It’s certainly obvious where it came from. 

“What is it?” Shang Qinghua asks, abruptly stopping his citation of this month’s sect financial report as he feels all their eyes on him. They never used to focus on him as much, especially when he’s droning on and on about logistics and budget. “Is there something on my face?”

There is silence as the peak lords quietly urge each other to be the first to speak. Shen Qingqiu, finding their childish nudging amusing if not ridiculous, rolls his eyes and clears his throat.

“Nothing, Shang-shidi,” he says behind his fan. “You may continue.”

“O-okay…” Shang Qinghua shoots Shen Qingqiu a questioning look, which the latter just shrugs and shakes his head, telling him not to mind it. Well, Shang Qinghua thinks, if he says so then. “Moving on to next month’s budget…”

Later, Shang Qinghua asks Shen Qingqiu what it all really was about, but Shen Qingqiu just waves him off with his fan and tells him it’s nothing. 

“Nice hair crown by the way,” Shen Qingqiu says as an afterthought as they’re leaving Qiong Ding Peak’s conference hall. “New?”

“Ah?” Shang Qinghua’s hands unconsciously reach to touch the crown in his hair. “Uh, yeah. It-it’s a gift.”

“Of course it is.”

There’s something with the way he says it, and Shang Qinghua wants to ask what the hell it's supposed to mean, but before he can even get another word out, Shen Qingqui is quickly whisked away by his sticky husband. 

Still, the staring persists, and Shang Qinghua is starting to get really creeped out.  

It doesn’t just happen with his martial siblings. Actually, it would be fine if it were just them. Shang Qinghua is used to being on the end of their bemused, if sometimes condescending, gazes. 

These days, though, even the demons seem to find Shang Qinghua extra fascinating. And it’s not just the usual ‘what the hell is a human doing here’ sort of look either. That one Shang Qinghua is familiar with and doesn’t get bothered by anymore. After being Mobei Jun’s spy and lackey for years and attending countless demon court sessions, he’s become immune to it. It’s just par for the course of being the only human in service to a demon noble.  

But these looks—they’re something else. Shang Qinghua knows he sticks out like a sore thumb whenever they convene in Luo Binghe’s court, but he’s starting to feel like a real freak of nature these days.

Like now. Some of them are blatantly just looking at Shang Qinghua instead of paying attention to Luo Binghe speaking at the head of the table! Why are they risking getting killed by Junshang at such a display of rudeness just to openly stare at Shang Qinghua’s very ordinary existence?! He’s been in a lot of meetings with some of these demons! There’s nothing new to look at, ah?! 

The thing that perhaps makes Shang Qinghua’s self-consciousness shoot through the roof is how, out of everyone, Mobei Jun seems to be staring at him the most intensely of all. 

They haven’t seen each other in a while due to Shang Qinghua’s duties in Cang Qiong and Mobei Jun’s duties under Luo Binghe, which require him to travel in far-off lands lately. It’s making Shang Qinghua anxious that he somehow did something that upset his king without him knowing. 

Ah, no matter! He can’t ask his king about it now. Luo Binghe is in the middle of debriefing his generals on the next steps about the rebel factions in the west. 

So, Shang Qinghua forces himself to make it through Luo Binghe’s debriefing, the handful of discussions with the other demons that follow right after, and through the rest of the day, even with the feeling of Mobei Jun’s eyes following his every move very closely.

It isn’t until the end of the day, when they’re alone and back in Mobei Jun’s palace, did Shang Qinghua finally muster the courage to ask. 

It’s just—it’s really bothering him, okay?!  

He mentally gives himself a pat on the back for lasting this long.

“My king,” Shang Qinghua calls after his review of the day’s proceedings. They’ve taken dinner and are now in Mobei Jun’s study as Shang Qinghua takes him through his schedule and appointments for the next day. “Forgive this one for being bold, but I—it’s just that, everyone has been staring at me all day. My king, too, has been staring—not that there is anything wrong about it, of course. Given that they are now...ehem. I…was just wondering if there’s something wrong or if this one has done something to displease you?”

Shang Qinghua waits with bated breath as Mobei Jun just continues to stare at him. He could feel his face growing hot under such intense scrutiny. Is this what it feels like to be stared at right through your soul? Because it certainly feels like it! It really feels like Mobei Jun is looking straight through Shang Qinghua’s soul, and for a moment, he feels fear and panic grip him by the throat at what Mobei Jun might see. 

What if Mobei Jun figures out he’s a transmigrator?! That he’s not of this world?! Or worse , his very, ahem , shameless and not at all innocent thoughts about his king!

“You’re wearing the crown I gave you,” Mobei Jun says.

“Eh?” Shang Qinghua blurts out as his inner ramblings were cut short. Whatever it was he was expecting Mobei Jun to say, that was not it. “Oh. Uhm. Yes, my king. It’s…it’s a very beautiful crown and it will be a waste not to use it,” he trails off.

Shang Qinghua remembers when Mobei Jun gave him the crown. He hasn’t seen him in nearly a week because Mobei Jun was out taking care of demon business with Luo Binghe. Mobei Jun came into Shang Qinghua’s office late at night while Shang Qinghua was still up finishing work and slid a lacquer box across his desk. Shang Qinghua, surprised at his king’s return, looked up and made to stand to greet him, but the words died in his throat when Mobei Jun gestured for him to open the box. Shang Qinghua did as he was told and saw the beautifully crafted hair crown nestled in plush blue velvet.

‘For Qinghua,’ was all Mobei Jun said, and disappeared in another portal before Shang Qinghua could collect his last three scattered brain cells to say thanks or to even ask why he warranted such a gift.

Mobei Jun had gone away again right after that, presumably to take care of whatever else Luo Binghe had him do, and Shang Qinghua had not yet gotten an opportunity to thank him until now.

“This one knows it’s long overdue, but many thanks to my king for such a lovely and thoughtful gift.”

“So Qinghua likes it.”

“Very much, my king.” 

It’s actually embarrassing how much Shang Qinghua likes it. More than like it, it’s quickly become his favorite. It’s not flashy like some of the jewelry Mobei Jun insists on giving him these days, but it’s very pretty and elegant. Shang Qinghua quite likes how it goes well with his An Ding robes. He’ll only admit it to himself, but wearing the hair crown makes him feel like a real peak lord! Like he’s really someone important and not just by the title! And it surely lends him a certain look whenever he sees himself in the mirror as he prepares for the day. 

“The crown,” Mobei Jun says, eyeing its perch on Shang Qinghua’s head. “It’s why they’ve been staring. You are wearing a crown that this king has given you.”

“Ah!” Shang Qinghua startles. Was that not allowed?! Was it a cultural misstep Shang Qinghua didn’t know about?! Ahhh! He really can’t keep up with all of these demon cultures. He didn’t write most of what has been realized in this world. Sure, he wrote some of them, but then the System took liberties in filling out the rest. Way too many liberties! “Should I—should this one have not—”   

“Mn,” Mobei Jun hums, sounding pleased. “Good.”

Ah? Good? So it’s not a faux pas on Shang Qinghua’s part after all?

“Will Qinghua wear it again tomorrow?” Mobei Jun asks.

Shang Qinghua blinks. Will he wear it again tomorrow? Well, that depends on what tomorrow’s agenda will be. The ox tribe of the east will be coming in for an audience with his king, and then after that, there’s the end-of-the-month meeting with the council. Hmm. Alright then. Perhaps he will. Shang Qinghua will need an extra boost of elegance and confidence if he’s gonna fight the elders against raising tariffs on the southern borders again. They’ve already agreed on a nice settlement with the tribes there! Raising tariffs would just spark another bout of negotiations, or worse, trading protests.

Plus, Mobei Jun seems to like it, and Shang Qinghua lives to satisfy his king. Screw what everyone thinks. They can just stare at Shang Qinghua all they want. 

“This one will wear it again tomorrow, my king,” Shang Qinghua says resolutely. 

Mobei Jun steps out of the portal and into Shang Qinghua’s office to see the man taking a nap atop his paperwork. 

It’s not uncommon for Mobei Jun to find him in such a state. He knows Shang Qinghua is a hard worker who works very long hours. In fact, besides Shang Qinghua himself, Mobei Jun is the only other one to know intimately just how much the man drives himself to the bone. He’s known Shang Qinghua since they were teenagers, has seen his ascent from a lowly outer disciple doing manual hard labor to a peak lord now often shackled on his desk doing massive piles of paperwork. Mobei Jun has watched through the years how Shang Qinghua simultaneously runs his peak and the Northern kingdom efficiently—and makes it look easy.

Mobei Jun has no trouble admitting that Shang Qinghua is the reason his kingdom is running as smoothly and effectively as it is. He’s under no delusions that the whole of it won’t crumble in under a month should Shang Qinghua decide to leave again. Those months after their brief falling out following Mobei Jun’s ascension had proven this to be true. Mobei Jun had no idea how much Shang Qinghua does for his kingdom and how much he’s taken all that for granted.

Not that it was the only reason why he had searched for Shang Qinghua. It’s one of the reasons, sure, but it’s not why he nearly overturned both realms just to bring him back. 

It took some time and great effort, but Mobei Jun has made it clear that his intentions with Shang Qinghua are more than just a master and his loyal servant. Shang Qinghua had blinked at him, and Mobei Jun watched in real-time how he seemed to have blacked out before his mind slowly worked out what Mobei Jun meant. Shang Qinghua had turned a very interesting shade of red before stammering out his response. Mobei Jun had to parse through Shang Qinghua’s mumbles and half-baked excuses, but ultimately, when he asked if Shang Qinghua understood and if he accepted, Shang Qinghua had nodded a little dazedly and managed a punched out ‘yes’. It came out a little confused and disbelieving, but it was a positive response nonetheless.

Shang Qinghua’s head is lying sideways, his cheek pressed flat against the smooth surface of his work table. His arms are around him as he huddles in on himself in an effort to keep himself warm through his nap. 

Mobei Jun frowns as he approaches Shang Qinghua’s desk. He doesn’t understand why Shang Qinghua doesn’t let himself fully rest. His bed is just in the other room, and if he’s cold, why did he not feed the fireplace more wood to up the heat, or at least wear more layers?

With an exasperated sigh, Mobei Jun takes off his cloak and gently drapes it over Shang Qinghua’s sleeping form. Slumping on his desk is not good for his back, and no doubt he’ll hear Shang Qinghua mumbling his complaints about how sore he is later. Mobei Jun considered moving him to his bed but decided against it. He knows Shang Qinghua always times these rests, and he doesn’t want to wake him before his scheduled wake-up time. 

Shang Qinghua calls them ‘power naps’ and claims they’re much better than taking long full rests before starting on his tasks again. He claims it’s easier to wake up from these short bouts of sleep, and he feels more well-rested. Mobei Jun doesn’t really see the logic in it, but then again, most of what Shang Qinghua does only makes sense to himself most of the time.

Shang Qinghua squirms in his sleep, mumbles something incoherent, but doesn’t wake. His arms unwind to pull the cloak snugger against him before he settles down.

Mobei Jun leaves him like this and calls for a servant to feed the hearth in Shang Qinghua’s office with strict orders not to wake the peak lord.

Shang Qinghua returns his cloak the next day and thanks Mobei Jun profusely for lending it to him.

Mobei Jun looks at the neatly folded fur cloak in Shang Qinghua’s hands before his gaze moves back to regard the man consideringly. 

Shang Qinghua is wearing his An Ding robes today. His everyday robes and not his full peak lord regalia with accents of darker shades of blue that bring out the brown of his eyes and make him look taller than he is. 

Mobei Jun’s mind’s eye supplies him with the image of a sleeping Shang Qinghua, draped in his heavy cloak, the dark blue of it complementing the pale blue and white of his An Ding robes. It contrasts well with his chestnut hair and slightly tanned complexion. 

Mobei Jun concludes that Shang Qinghua looks really good in shades of blue.

Shang Qinghua seems to take his staring to mean something other than appreciation. He tells Mobei Jun not to worry because he’s washed his cloak beforehand. 

“I didn’t get it dirty, of course! But I just figured I’ll have it laundered as thanks! Don’t worry, my king. I made sure that it was washed well and it’s not at all damaged!”

Mobei Jun hums as he accepts the cloak. Shang Qinghua thanks him again and excuses himself quickly after that. When he’s gone, Mobei Jun brings the cloak to his nose and is delighted to find that it smells just like Shang Qinghua. It’s intoxicating but not too heady that it fogs his senses. The scent has a soothing effect that one whiff of it made the tenseness in Mobei Jun’s shoulders melt almost instantly.

Mobei Jun wears the cloak for the rest of the day, and if people notice, he’s more relaxed and less murderous than usual. Well.  

The next time Mobei Jun lends Shang Qinghua his cloak, he decides he really ought to just have it.

They are in the tundras of the musk ox tribe on an errand by Luo Binghe, and Shang Qinghua has yet again failed to dress appropriately to keep himself warm. He’s under layers of robes, and yet he’s still shivering. Either his robes are made of flimsy materials, or Shang Qinghua, after years of spending nearly half of his life in the North, still hasn’t acclimatized to the weather.

Mobei Jun, for his part, does not need thick outerwear at all. His cloak is just something he puts on because it’s part of the usual ensemble of the North. It’s just how everyone in the Northern Demon Realm dresses, the usual robes underneath some type of cloak or thick outer robe. 

Lately, it seems he’s been donning his cloak as mundanely as he always has, only for it to end up draped over Shang Qinghua at the end of the day. Mobei Jun finds that he doesn’t mind it at all. 

He unceremoniously drops his cloak over Shang Qinghua’s head. He hears him squeak in surprise before quickly wrapping it tightly around his shivering form and thanking Mobei Jun profusely as he always does every time it happens. 

Shang Qinghua sighs in relief as he burrows himself further in the thick material. The only thing that could be seen above the fur trimmings is the top half of his face. Mobei Jun’s eyes are locked on Shang Qinghua’s red nose, the red tips of his ears, and the blush high up in his cheeks. He watches fascinated at how his cloak completely dwarfs Shang Qinghua as he drags it along the snowy path.  

It’s…adorable and Mobei Jun is endlessly endeared. He hopes Shang Qinghua never learns to wear thicker robes whenever they’re out in the colder parts of the North.

“Here, my king,” Shang Qinghua hands Mobei Jun back his cloak after they’ve finished with their business and have stepped out of the portal back to the palace. “Thank you for lending it to this Qinghua once again.”

Mobei Jun sees the slight chatter of Shang Qinghua’s teeth, clearly still cold, and doesn’t reach for it. “Keep it,” he says, brushing past Shang Qinghua and towards the inner chambers of the palace. “It suits you,” he mumbles lowly.

“Ah, my king?” Shang Qinghua hurriedly scurries after him. “What did you—”

“I said keep it for now.” 

“Oh!” Shang Qinghua exclaims like he’s just had a realization. “Of course! How silly of me! This one shall have this washed first before I return it to you, my king!”

“Hmm,” Mobei Jun considers this and remembers the first time Shang Qinghua returned one of his cloaks. “See to it that you do.”

“Yes, my king.”

They arrive at an intersection where the royal chambers meet the administrative offices. Shang Qinghua bows and excuses himself to attend to more of his duties. Mobei Jun watches him leave for his office and feels a low thrum of delight when he sees Shang Qinghua drape his cloak over himself once again.

Mobei Jun has decided that Shang Qinghua looks best in the colors of the North and gets to work commissioning robes for him. Thicker ones that would ward off the harsh cold, and not at all like his flimsy Cang Qiong robes. If Shang Qinghua is to be the future Northern Consort, then he should start dressing the part.

While that is in the works, Mobei Jun will just keep lending Shang Qinghua his cloaks and delighting in them when Shang Qinghua returns them smelling of cinnamon, citrus, and sunlight.

Shang Qinghua has noticed the change in his wardrobe.

It is Shen Qingqiu who points it out because, of course, he will. Surprisingly, he’s the only other person who actually pays close attention to Shang Qinghua, it seems. Probably so he can continue to verbally lash at him ruthlessly. 

Shen Qingqiu says it very off-handedly, too, like it’s just an innocent observation when Shang Qinghua knows it’s anything but! There’s a little condescension sometimes, but that’s just regular Peerless Cucumber. He’s all like—

‘Oh, is that a new robe, Shang-shidi? The colors are a little darker than An Ding’s, aren’t they?’

‘You’re looking more well-put lately, Shang-shidi. Finally figured out how to dress like a peak lord properly, have you?’

‘Silver trimming on your outer robe, hm? A little fancy for a simple maintenance check, don’t you think?’

‘Is that brocade made of gold thread? What’s the occasion, Airplane-bro?’ 

Shen Qingqiu makes his quips in the same tone he did when he asked about Shang Qinghua’s favorite hair crown.

Asshole, Shang Qinghua thinks fondly. He knows the other transmigrator is mostly teasing, but still. What an asshole.

Look, Shang Qinghua’s not entirely stupid, okay? He’s actually a very observant guy! He had to be if he wanted to survive this realized world of his web novel. And Shang Qinghua had desperately wanted to survive!

He knows who’s the culprit behind the change in his wardrobe—both the styling and the number of clothes he now has in both of the places he keeps a change of them.

At first, he thinks it’s his head disciple who keeps on commissioning him new robes from Cang Qiong’s tailors. She does that sometimes because she thinks Shang Qinghua doesn’t buy himself enough robes as much as he ought to, being a peak lord and all. 

He does, alright?! Shang Qinghua just…tends to forget sometimes too. But at least he hasn’t shown up for peak lord meetings and important sect gatherings in rags yet! 

Shang Qinghua doesn’t buy clothes if he can help it. He’s not a miser nor is it because he can’t afford it. The salary of a peak lord is actually very lucrative. It’s just that clothes have never been something he particularly cares about. Often, if he finds holes or tears in an article of clothing, he just stitches or patches them up. He doesn’t bother commissioning new ones because shopping for new clothes has always been a stressful experience for him, even in his first life. And much as he complains about his head disciple’s tendency to bug him about it, Shang Qinghua is actually grateful for her initiative to commission them for him. She also lets him know whenever she does, so Shang Qinghua knows precisely how much clothing he owns, and it’s just enough to make himself presentable and maintain an image of a peak lord. 

Still, he’s going to call out his head disciple for the robes she seems to keep ordering. These are still coming out of Shang Qinghua’s paycheck after all! A handsome salary aside, the new robes really don’t look cheap! And there are a lot of them!

But then, when he’s getting dressed for the day, Shang Qinghua finally looks at himself in the mirror. Like, really looks at himself.

See, Shang Qinghua has a tendency to just randomly and blindly throw on whatever he can grab from his closet when he’s preparing for the day. So sue him! He works long and late hours and he still has to get up at ass fuck of dawn every fucking day. He’s still groggy, and everything he does in the morning is done on autopilot. He can’t be faulted for not bothering to really check himself in the mirror, okay? He’s got lots of things to do! There are at least five things he needs to get done before the sun is even fully up!

But this morning, in a rare and brief moment of wakefulness, Shang Qinghua stares at himself in the mirror, sees that he’s decked in robes that aren’t his standard every day An Ding ones, and promptly goes to fling open the doors of his closet. He blinks, seeing the insides of it fully stacked.

Did he say he suddenly has a lot of clothes? Oh, he actually means he has a shitfuckton of them now.

Shang Qinghua used to be able to count on his hands the number of belts and sashes he owns, and he won’t need all his fingers. Now, they are neatly rolled and stacked high up, filling the third shelf in his wardrobe. He used to only have a total of seven inner robes (yes, one for every day of the week) and they’re accompanying second and third layers. Now, that number has tripled. His outer robes, formerly just two, he now counts six of them. He seems to have acquired more socks as well, and all of them either have gold or silver stitching. 

They’re in all kinds of fabric too. Some of the robes are satin (satin!), some are silk (silk?!), and one or two of the cloaks are rich velvet. He thinks he spies a couple of sheer lace robes, too. Shang Qinghua has never in his life thought he’d ever own something silk, much less lace!

If the sheer amount of it didn’t clue him in, the colors surely did. The color palettes blend really well, which is why it took him a while to notice. His light-colored An Ding Peak robes, while they haven’t entirely vanished, have been drowned in a sea of robes with different shades of a darker blue. Some of them incorporate the light-blue green colors of An Ding in the trimmings, while the ones in solid An Ding colors have their edges lined with dark blue or silver—the colors of the North.

And those are just the ones in his Leisure House. The garments that suddenly filled his wardrobe in the Northern Palace, the pelts and heavy cloaks that warranted a separate closet, are another story.  

Not to mention the sudden increase of accessories and jewelry he now has and is just now realizing. The variety of his stud earrings has increased, and he now has some dangling ones with different gems and delicately crafted silver and gold. 

Other than his peak lord crown and a modest pair of stud earrings, Shang Qinghua doesn’t really wear any accessories. They tend to just get in the way of his work, and he’s a busy man who always has places to go where wearing flashy jewelry might cause trouble more than it will do him good. Shang Qinghua used to only have, like, an old packaging of dragon’s beard candy where he dumps whatever shiny trinket he owns. Now he has full jewelry boxes (box es ! Plural!) both in his Leisure House and his chambers in the palace. He’s got more jewelry than he has any idea what to do with, or when or what to wear them for! 

Still, Shang Qinghua gets it. It’s Mobei Jun’s way of showing his claim. 

Things have…changed since his and Mobei Jun’s brief falling out following his ascension. Shang Qinghua wouldn’t say it changed as soon as he was back in the palace. Of course, it didn’t happen overnight! 

But Mobei Jun had told him to stay, and Shang Qinghua just naturally said yes because, well, he wanted to stay by his king’s side even after everything that happened. He didn’t get an official apology, but Mobei Jun does make him noodles whenever he asks and doesn’t hit him anymore, and they just went on from there. 

Mobei Jun is lucky Shang Qinghua is good at reading between the lines

From then it was more of a gradual shift in their dynamic. Shang Qinghua remembers a lot of awkward shuffling around each other before they settled into a kind of friendship. Then it just…snowballed from there, and one day, Mobei Jun had made his intentions to…to c-court him and Shang Qinghua remembers saying yes—probably! Shang Qinghua kind of blue-screened right after Mobei Jun said he likes him…romantic stylez. 

That wasn’t the words he used, of course, but that was the gist of it! And Shang Qinghua had said yes! And now they’re together! Dating! Boyfriends! Shang Qinghua still has trouble believing it sometimes.   

That surely explained the gifts Mobei Jun has been giving him since then.

It isn’t one-sided either. Shang Qinghua has also noticed that his wardrobe isn’t the only one that’s changed. Shang Qinghua noticed that Mobei Jun, too, has been incorporating An Ding’s colors in his everyday wear. They’re subtle, but they’re there.

Shang Qinghua helps his king get ready for the day whenever he’s in the palace. He draws him a bath, readies his robes for the day, helps him dress, and does his hair. The change in Mobei Jun’s wardrobe has apparently been in place for a while now, but Shang Qinghua just hasn’t noticed because he, uhh, was busy noticing something else.

In his defense! You try seeing your ideal man with the perfect body and a peerless handsome face half-naked and freshly showered before you, and see if you focus on anything else! It was difficult as it is to not stare too much and keep himself from fainting or having a nosebleed or…or doing something else very inappropriate, ah! Like licking or reaching over to squeeze Mobei Jun’s—

Anyway! It isn’t until Mobei Jun tells him the clothes he picked out for the day are no good and to go fetch a specific light-colored blue-green inner robe instead does Shang Qinghua finally clocks it. 

‘I’ve never seen him wear this color before,’ he thinks as he’s helping Mobei Jun put it on, and then ‘oh, hey, this has the same shade as my An Ding peak lord robes—wait’. 

Shang Qinghua stares with his jaw slack as Mobei Jun merely quirks his brow at him. The thin strip of blue-green inner robe visible under Mobei Jun’s official court robes taunts Shang Qinghua for the rest of the day as Mobei Jun sits smugly on his throne holding court.

It’s devious! It’s underhanded! When did his king become this sly?! Mobei Jun does not play fair, and Shang Qinghua decides to give him a piece of his mind.

“My king, don’t take this the wrong way. I appreciate you taking liberties with upgrading and filling up this one’s wardrobe,” Shang Qinghua says one morning as he’s helping Mobei Jun get dressed yet again, “but I would have to ask you to stop,” he deadpans as he pulls off the towel he’s using to dry Mobei Jun’s hair. 

“Why?”

“Why?!” Shang Qinghua honestly cannot believe him. What does he mean ‘why’? And he dares to frown in confusion, which Shang Qinghua should really not find cute, especially with his hair still a little in disarray after Shang Qinghua has dried it, but he does. Ugh. “I have enough clothes to last for years . I really don’t need another five sets of robes or ten pairs of socks or whatever it is you plan to shove into my closets next. They’re already full. Both the one in An Ding and my rooms here.”

“Then we’ll have another closet built for you,” Mobei Jun says flippantly. 

“I would have to politely decline, my king, but thank you for the new outer robes,” Shang Qinghua says primly as he hands Mobei Jun yet another pale blue-green colored inner robe instead of his usual midnight blue or black. “The midnight blue ones with the silver linings were quite lovely.” 

Mobei Jun reaches for the towel in Shang Qinghua’s hand and continues drying his hair himself. “Mn. This king thought it would suit Qinghua.” 

Shang Qinghua shoots Mobei Jun a pointed look as he ties his inner robe close. "I know what you're doing, my king." 

Mobei Jun only looks at him impassively, eyebrows raised slightly as if to ask, ‘Do you now?’

“My only question is why,” Shang Qinghua asks just to see if Mobei Jun will tell him.

“If Qinghua says he already knows, then this king does not need to explain,” Mobei Jun replies, shrugging on the outer robe he is handed and letting Shang Qinghua tie his sash for him. 

“There’s no need for it. I’m already yours. Always have been, my king. And everyone and their mothers already know it.”

"Does it displease, Qinghua?"

Shang Qinghua detects a slight uncertainty in his king’s tone but marvels at how Mobei Jun still managed to sound haughty and impervious despite it. Oh, to have the confidence of a spoiled royal.

"I haven't worn any other hairpiece besides the crown you've given me,” Shang Qinghua says to make his point. “I'm going to wear it out quickly at this rate." 

Mobei Jun understands. "I'll get Qinghua more hair crowns then, so he doesn't worry about wearing them out."

“I’d like that. But nothing too flashy, okay, my king?”

“Mn.”

Shang Qinghua just smiles up at him. He knows Mobei Jun will like nothing more than to commission him a hair crown that would probably feed a small village for a year. And judging by the stubborn downturn of his mouth, Mobei Jun will probably ignore Shang Qinghua’s request anyway and get him something that would guarantee to make the merchants jack up the prices of the goods he’s trying to get a good bargain for when he’s out on supply procurement trips. Shang Qinghua sighs. He’s already amassed enough jewelry from all of Mobei Jun’s gifts to warrant their own coffers.

He continues to fuss about making sure his king is as presentable and impeccably dressed as always, even if Mobei Jun doesn’t actually bother to maintain it. The man seems to be allergic to keeping his robes closed, and by midday, it will for sure be opened halfway down his chest as always. Not that Shang Qinghua is complaining. The fussing about his king is more for his benefit anyway.

Shang Qinghua’s eyes linger on the thin strip of blue-green peaking from under Mobei Jun’s outer robes. He runs his fingers along its edges before he gives Mobei Jun a final pat on his chest and directs him to sit on the vanity so he can do his hair.  

He starts combing through Mobei Jun’s hair repeatedly, the motions by now ingrained in him and almost cathartic. Mobei Jun is watching him through the vanity mirror. Shang Qinghua drags the teeth of the comb gently through Mobei Jun’s scalp and smiles when his king sighs and closes his eyes. He repeats the motion until Mobei Jun is almost sagging forward. 

Shang Qinghua then makes quick work of Mobei Jun’s usual braids. It’s something he’s done for him when they were younger. Shang Qinghua doesn’t know how to do any elaborate hairstyles, but his fingers are oddly adept at braiding. It’s not the usual braids of the Mobei clan, but Mobei Jun has kept the style Shang Qinghua has done for him since. 

He starts on each side before bringing both ends together at the back. Shang Qinghua almost reaches for Mobei Jun’s usual black ribbon on the vanity before an idea strikes him. Holding both ends of the braids in one hand, his other hand reaches up to loosen the ribbon around his own hair and then uses it to tie Mobei Jun’s braids together.

When he’s done, he sees that Mobei Jun is looking at him through the vanity mirror in that soft way he sometimes does in the mornings when he’s just woken up. Shang Qinghua feels his insides warm up like he just drank a bottle of Zu Xian’s Peak’s finest baiju. 

“I’ve got no fancy hair crown or commissioned robes with the colors of An Ding and the North blended in them for you yet, my king,” Shang Qinghua says as he runs his fingers down Mobei Jun’s hair, loving the way his pale blue-green ribbon stands out amidst his king’s inky black hair. “So, I hope this will do for now. It’s not much but…it is something of mine.”  

Mobei Jun doesn’t say anything and only reaches up to pinch at the ribbon tied on his hair. Shang Qinghua, watching his king run marveling fingers at the silky material and not pulling it off, huffs a quiet laugh and decides to tease.

“But, ah, my king. It doesn’t seem to go with your outfit today. Perhaps we should swap it out with your usual—”

“No.” Mobei Jun turns and moves away from Shang Qinghua, who has his hand poised as if to pull off the ribbon. “This is fine.”

Shang Qinghua stifles a laugh at the look of offense on Mobei Jun’s face. He’s also still holding the ribbon’s end protectively close to him and away from Shang Qinghua, and it makes for a really funny picture. Ah, his king can be so cute sometimes.

“You’re so silly, my king,” Shang Qinghua says, extremely fond. He plants a kiss right on Mobei Jun’s demon mark before excusing himself to attend to his duties.

Mobei Jun feels smug the whole day, periodically fiddling with Shang Qinghua’s ribbon whenever he’s on break from his duties or there’s a lull in the discussions. He practically preens when Sha Hualing finally asks him about it.

“Whatcha got there, Mobei?” Shan Hualing asks, not bothering to mask her amused smile. She can practically feel Mobei Jun just begging to be asked about it, and she’s feeling indulgent today. “New ribbon, huh? Decided to spice up your usual color scheme, did you?”

“It’s Qinghua’s ribbon.”

“Oh,” Sha Hualing says. “ Oh. ” She kind of had an idea that it was the human cultivator’s, but it doesn’t make the impact any less when Mobei Jun confirms it. “Does that mean—? Did he—?”

“Mn,” Mobei Jun nods, and Sha Hualing wants to laugh at the slight tilt at the corners of the normally stoic demon. He looks so smug and pleased with himself. “He did. This morning.”

“Well, congratulations then,” Sha Hualing says and means it. 

Mobei Jun takes Shang Qinghua’s action to mean that he can shower him with more material things.

Naturally, Shang Qinghua has to come ruin Mobei Jun’s fun and put an end to it by telling him to stop giving him any more gifts.

“My king, I’m just going to say it straight,” Shang Qinghua starts, taking a comb to Mobei Jun’s hair as they prepare to retire for the night. “The gifts have got to stop.”

‘Ah, yes,’ Mobei Jun thinks, ‘here he goes.’

Shang Qinghua has only been hinting at his ‘excessiveness’ in the past couple of days. Mobei Jun knows him well enough by now that it’s all going to culminate in one big ranting speech about ‘unnecessary gifts’ and ‘there is such a thing as too many robes’ and ‘there is only so much jewelry I can own before I’m practically a mine!’. Especially when he starts dropping the formal speech. It’s actually right on schedule. Mobei Jun is honestly a little surprised it’s taken Shang Qinghua this long to spill.

Mobei Jun will admit that he might have…gone a little overboard with all the things he’s been giving Shang Qinghua since they’ve acknowledged the official shift of their relationship. And honestly, if Shang Qinghua is complaining about it now, Mobei Jun bets he’s going to have a huge fit when he announces his intention to marry him. He’s not planning on sparing any expense on that. Cang Qiong will have no choice but to give their blessing before Mobei Jun even gets half of the dowry he’s intending to give (and already has prepared) in their receiving halls.

“Don’t get me wrong, my king. I really appreciate them and I love all of them. Really! But there’s just too many—no! Too many don’t even begin to describe it! My king! Please! I don’t need any more sapphires or rubies or whatever else precious gems you’re thinking of throwing my way! Or more fancy robes! I’ve got enough to last me into the next season—several seasons!”

Once Shang Qinghua gets started on his tirade, Mobei Jun learns there’s no stopping it. So he just lets it run its course as Shang Qinghua continues to comb his hair. 

Mobei Jun loses himself to the feeling of the comb gently massaging his scalp and Shang Qinghua’s gentle hand carding through his hair, even with his scolding. He lets himself space out a little as he watches Shang Qinghua move through the mirror. 

Shang Qinghua is wearing Mobei Jun’s sleeping robe and some dark sleeping pants he had gotten altered to match. Mobei Jun likes the way his much bigger sleeping robes hang on Shang Qinghua’s smaller frame and how the dark color of the material contrasts with Shang Qinghua’s tanned skin. The sleeves go past his hands, and he has to push them up so he can continue combing Mobei Jun’s hair. 

It’s so stupidly adorable. Mobei Jun could honestly just stare at him all day like this.

“Why do you even keep on giving me gifts, my king? What even is the occasion? Is there a gift-giving festival I missed or some demon ritual I don’t know about?” 

Shang Qinghua taps him on the shoulder and puts the comb down when he finishes. Mobei Jun stands and guides Shang Qinghua on the vanity so he could comb his hair in turn. He hears Shang Qinghua sigh in relief when he pulls his ribbon loose and lets his topknot down. He bends a little to bury his nose in Shang Qinghua’s hair and take a light sniff. Shang Qinghua always smells of citrus and cinnamon, and the sunlight. It’s comforting as much as it is addicting.

“I mean, the claiming part of it—the matching robes and outfit coordination and everything else—that’s actually pretty cute, I admit, but this is getting ridiculous! I don’t even wear much jewelry at all!”

It’s true. Mobei Jun has noticed that Shang Qinghua doesn’t really have a penchant for jewelry, but he also figures it’s either because Shang Qinghua doesn’t know what suits him or because he thinks it’s not a practical purchase. Well, lucky for him, Mobei Jun knows exactly the type of jewelry that will suit Shang Qinghua in the exact styles he knows won’t interfere with his everyday duties. Even better, Mobei Jun also doesn’t care about petty things like money and how much things cost because he’s a king and his coffers are nigh endless.

Has he been thinking about draping all kinds of precious gems and shiny things on Shang Qinghua in his spare time, and wondering how he would look for a while now? Perhaps. Is he taking this as the perfect opportunity to do just that? Absolutely. Mobei Jun just thinks Shang Qinghua should have more of the finer things in life as his intended. Surely there’s nothing wrong with that.

And Mobei Jun knows that, despite his complaints of excessiveness, Shang Qinghua means it when he says he appreciates everything Mobei Jun has given him. From the smallest trinket to the most extravagant ones. Mobei Jun sees it in the way Shang Qinghua’s eyes widen in delight and the face-splitting grin that follows every time he presents him with rare flora, an artifact he’s only ever read in books, or pelts from the beasts Mobei Jun has hunted and skinned himself. Shang Qinghua comments that he doesn’t need them, but he wears the robes and the jewelry Mobei Jun gives him well and with pride. 

There’s something about the way Shang Qinghua carries himself whenever he’s wearing Mobei Jun’s gifts that pleases the demon greatly. It tells Mobei Jun that Shang Qinghua likes to show off that he is claimed. That he is Mobei Jun’s. It’s the same for him. He incorporates the colors of Shang Qinghua’s An Ding Peak in his garb because he wants everyone to know that he is Shang Qinghua’s as much as he is his.

“And another thing! The monsters you slay, my king, while really very sexy of you and most of them have a lot of use beyond just being trophies—Mu-shidi sends his thanks for the three-headed blue phoenix by the way and Shen-shixiong says he greatly appreciates you bringing the whole carcass of the iron snout white buffalo instead of just its head. It was a great help for teaching his disciples about the beast’s anatomy—but they’re getting out of hand! For one thing, my king, think of the ecosystem! You can’t just keep slaying these beasts left and right! You’ll disrupt the delicate ecological balance!”

Mobei Jun scoffs. Surely Shang Qinghua could hardly complain about his hunts when they’re used for practical, and apparently educational, use. And it’s not like Mobei Jun is hunting them in herds. It’s just one or two beasts. It would hardly make a dent in the realms’ ecosystems and their balance.

“Also, I can’t eat all the meat of these beasts! None of us can! The palace kitchen has enough to last us through the winter, and I noticed my disciples are starting to gain weight from all the meat they’ve been eating! The storage room for those in both An Ding and the palace could only handle so much! It’s fine here because it’s cold and there’s no problem keeping it in the palace’s meat storage, but I’m not ordering another cooling storage unit for An Ding! My king, it’s summer in the human realm! You know how sweltering the heat is in my peak, and you know how much I hate wasting food!”

Mobei Jun wonders if Shang Qinghua has considered just storing whatever meat he couldn’t store in An Ding in the palace instead. He considered pointing this out, except he’s got enough sense to know by now that it will just make Shang Qinghua talk longer, and Mobei Jun really just wants to skip to the part where Shang Qinghua gives him a good night kiss before finally turning in for the night.

“And what the hell even do I need a yellow desert devil’s claw? That thing only grows in the deserts of the Southern lizard tribes. Besides, we have the thousand-petalled cerulean crystal poinsettias here, and they work better for poisons and everyday ailments!” 

Mobei Jun runs the comb one last time down Shang Qinghua’s hair before setting it down on the vanity. He runs his hands lightly through chestnut locks, relishing the cool and silky feeling of them against his fingers. Mobei Jun leans down to kiss the ends of it on his palm and catches Shang Qinghua smiling at him through the mirror. 

“Although I would admit the yellow desert devil’s claw is really pretty. I really liked them.” 

Shang Qinghua nods in concession before turning his face up to him. Mobei Jun hums and plants a kiss on his temple. 

“But enough with the gifts. Okay, my king?” Shang Qinghua says, standing up on the tips of his toes to kiss Mobei Jun sweetly before starting towards the bed.

In truth, the yellow desert devil’s claw was just something he picked up during a trade negotiation there. It’s not extravagant like the rest of his gifts because it wasn’t meant to be. Mobei Jun just wanted to give Shang Qinghua flowers that aren’t native to the North or the human realm. He saw the flower, which reminded him of Shang Qinghua, and he thought he would like it, so he got him a bouquet of it. 

“It’s courting,” Mobei Jun tells him after Shang Qinghua has let it all out. He’s learned it’s best to have Shang Qinghua be done with all the talking first lest he implodes. “This is me courting you, Qinghua,” he repeats for good measure, slowly just to be sure. Sometimes it takes a couple more hints to get Shang Qinghua to understand. 

Also, because Mobei Jun knows Shang Qinghua hates it when he does that, and Mobei Jun has always liked bullying and teasing him. Mobei Jun has always thought Shang Qinghua looks especially good when he’s annoyed.

“And the flowers are just flowers. I was told that is something one gives their intended in the human realm during courtship.”

“Stop that!” Shang Qinghua scowls and whacks him lightly in the arm. “I know that you’re—that’s you’re c-courting me, okay?”

“Mm,” Mobei Jun hums. He thinks it’s adorable that Shang Qinghua couldn’t even say it without stuttering and his cheeks turning red. This man will wage war and get rid of anyone who slights his king, yet get flustered at the barest mention of romance. “If Qinghua says so.”

“Stop teasing me, my king! I do understand, okay? It’s just—” Shang Qinghua sighs. He pats the space on the bed next to him and quickly snuggles up to Mobei Jun’s side when he does. “What I meant was you don’t have to do all these things anymore, my king. I appreciate all the gifts and the gestures, but there’s really no need for them. My king already knows how I feel about him.”

“Qinghua deserves to be wooed and courted properly,” Mobei Jun insists, pulling Shang Qinghua closer and planting a tender kiss at the top of his head. He ignores the way he mouths the word ‘wooed’. “Especially after…after all those years this king has fumbled with showing Qinghua my affections.”

“Ah, my king,” Shang Qinghua reaches up to kiss Mobei Jun tenderly. “I told you that’s all water under the bridge.”

Shang Qinghua punctuates this with another kiss. It’s so soft and chaste that it makes something in Mobei Jun ache. Shang Qinghua has always treated him like he’s something so precious and treasured when it’s really the other way around. Even when he was ranting earlier and his annoyance with Mobei Jun is clear, Shang Qinghua’s hands are gentle and soft as they comb through Mobei Jun’s hair. Not once did he feel a tug or the comb’s teeth dragging against his scalp with more pressure than it should. Mobei Jun profoundly regrets how he’s only now learned how to treat Shang Qinghua the way he deserves. 

“No, it is not.” Mobei Jun holds Shang Qinghua’s face gently and leans down to kiss him again. “Not to me. And I will spend the rest of my life making up for it.”

“So stubborn, my king,” Shang Qinghua says, sounding resigned. Mobei Jun knows he’s won when he pulls away and sees Shang Qinghua smiling at him in that fond exasperated way he sometimes does. The way Shang Qinghua wraps his arms around him and squeezes him gently tells him that he understands how important this is for Mobei Jun. “Alright, fine. But tone down on the fancy gifts won’t you, my king? I’m running out of places to store all the precious things you keep giving me.”

Mobei Jun opens his mouth to make a suggestion, but Shang Qinghua beats him to it.

“No, you are not having another palace wing built just to store all your courting gifts to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because, my king,” Shang Qinghua says this with no follow-up as if that alone explains it, ‘because’. 

“That is not an answer, Qinghua.”

“Ah, my king,” Shang Qingua leans in for another kiss, longer this time that it manages to derail Mobei Jun’s thoughts a little on what they are talking about. “You’re so silly.”

Shang Qinghua does this a lot. Answer questions with non-answers. He does it when he’s truly relaxed and finds the topic silly enough not to warrant an extended discussion. Mostly, he does it when he thinks Mobei Jun is being spoiled or acting out on a whim. He always sounds so fond that Mobei Jun couldn’t be annoyed, even just a little. He just finds the way Shang Qinghua giggles even at his expense endlessly endearing.

“If not gifts,” Mobei Jun finds himself surrendering, “then in what other ways can this king court Qinghua?”

Shang Qinghua often says Mobei Jun is spoiled, yet Mobei Jun finds himself surrendering more and more to Shang Qinghua’s whims each day. Thinking back on it, Mobei Jun doesn’t remember ever denying Shang Qinghua any request he’s ever clearly asked of him. Not that Mobei Jun is complaining. As much as Shang Qinghua says there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for Mobei Jun, there is nothing Mobei Jun wouldn’t do for Shang Qinghua either.

Shang Qinghua looks to think about it for a moment before he perks up and snaps his fingers. He untangles himself from Mobei Jun’s side to lie on the bed and then pats the space next to him. When Mobei Jun lies down, Shang Qinghua pulls one of his king’s arms so he can rest his head on it, then he turns to his side and pulls Mobei Jun’s other arm to sling over his waist. He shifts a little so his back is snug against Mobei Jun’s chest and pulls at him to hold him closer.

“This is one of the ways. You can just hold me,” Shang Qinghua explains as he puts a hand on top of Mobei Jun’s hand slung over his waist and laces their fingers together. “Sometimes things get so tough for me to deal with, and I get so overwhelmed that I just need to be held like this. It helps calm me down and keeps me grounded when I’m stressed or anxious. Actually, I’m always stressed and anxious, so you should really do this more often, my king. And kisses. Those are good too. Great, really! I one hundred percent recommend that you give me more of those. In fact! I’m putting hugs and kisses as my top most preferred courting gifts!”

Mobei Jun loves showering Shang Qinghua with gifts and material luxuries simply because Shang Qinghua deserves it, but it makes him incandescently happy to know Shang Qinghua is equally as content to simply have him and be close to him.

Mobei Jun lifts their entwined hands to kiss Shang Qinghua’s knuckles. Then he moves to pepper kisses along Shang Qinghua’s nape, shoulders, and any patch of skin he can reach.

“Just like that, my king. Ah, such a quick learner. You always deliver fast, don’t you?” Shang Qinghua praises, then he turns his head a little to ask, “One last kiss before I fully conk out? Please?” 

Mobei Jun scoffs at the unnecessary pleading tone. The angle is a little awkward, but Mobei Jun obliges and gives him a slow, lingering kiss. Mobei Jun feels Shang Qinghua smile against his lips and couldn’t help smiling back. 

“Are you comfortable, my king?” Shang Qinghua asks once he’s settled back. 

Shang Qinghua tries to shift away, but Mobei Jun holds on to him, fully settles in himself, and nuzzles his face on top of the peak lord’s head. His arms are wrapped around Shang Qinghua comfortably, and tangled their legs. Mobei Jun sighs, every little tension and knot in his body melting away at the feeling of Shang Qinghua tucked snug against him. 

“Never been better.”