Chapter Text
【Your fate was sealed from the beginning, you see…】
Liu Qingge knew that things were going wrong straight away.
From the alarmed faces surrounding him, they knew it too. Their mouths formed unheard words as the flames from the Phoenix Wood surrounded him, trapping him on the bier and turning blue as his mortal body was consumed.
The noise of things burning — the soft thumps of ignition; the crackling and popping of things being transmuted by fire; the sharp sounds of objects shattering — that was all he could hear.
【You were Fated, Liu Qingge. Fated to die, unless Shen Qingqiu — Shen Yuan — was able to save you.】
There was no pain. Not until he saw the others restraining Shen Qingqiu, who soundlessly cried out to him; reached for him.
He never wanted to see fear like that in those green eyes ever again. It took all three of the other peak lords to take Shen Qingqiu away. He fought every step; perhaps even viciously if the shocked expressions were anything to go by. Even with the combined power of the three men, Shen Qingqiu broke free a few times. The others succeeded, in the end, but it wasn’t easy.
Good, he thought. Keep him safe.
Liu Qingge saw feathers in the flames, burning away one by one, just like his mortal shell beneath him.
【You could not return to your body, because Shen Yuan was not sent soon enough to rescue you from your deviation. So you died, just as you were Fated to.】
The flames spread beyond the bier, burning away the stand that held the metal basin and then melting the basin and its contents for good measure. Even the dark blue marble of the cave floors and ceilings showed signs that the hungry flames were considering if they were able to consume them too.
【That was a mistake on our side, of course. A scheduling error. But we could not interfere — things were already set into motion. You were originally, in this thing you call ‘the prophecy’, meant to fade away after a few days, passing beyond the veil in a way befitting a cultivator of your status.】
The lights of the luminous pearls that lit the cavern were snuffed out, one by one, as the blue flames greedily swallowed them too. There were screams that echoed through the cavern, but they did not belong to the peak lords — they did not belong to Liu Qingge either. Later, he wouldn’t be certain whose screams they were, only that they were probably not human.
At the time, he was barely paying attention to them.
He was straining to listen to the odd, dispassionate voice that spoke to him inside of his mind.
【Shen Yuan was meant to be the one to affect change. A catalyst to correct ‘the prophecy’. Shang Qinghua could not be this. He was the prophecy’s originator. Big changes are impossible for him without first being changed himself. So it was meant to be Shen Yuan who longed, more than anyone, to affect the prophecy. But you have become a catalyst too, Liu Qingge, perhaps on-par with The Protag— …with Luo Binghe in terms of how your presence could affect The Plo— prophecy.】
The cavern was all darkness now.
The blue flames had even consumed themselves — or perhaps, his ability to see had been burned away with everything else.
How could he know the difference?
【You chose to follow Shen Qingqiu out of the cave. You were the one to decide to watch him, to safeguard the sect and amuse yourself. You were the one to decide to protect him. You at every turn decided to remain behind as a guardian, a friend, a lover, a brother… were willing to stare unflinching at yourself and move forward to be better not for personal gain, but for those you give your loyalty to.】
“Who are you?” Liu Qingge found himself asking in the darkness.
There was no echo. He might not have been in the cavern any longer.
【You may call me ‘System’, like theirs… Shen Yuan and Shang Qinghua.】
“En. Then, ‘System’, it seems you want something of me, so that I can return to him.”
【Direct. You are correct.】
“And?”
【Returning to your living body was not possible once you chose to protect Shen Yuan from the explosion of the Phoenix Wood. Those fragments that you thought had done nothing left little splinters behind, too small and fine for you to feel unless they activated. A change of rebirth began from there. It is why your experiences as a ghost were so strange and you could not sense your ghostly qi the way you should have been able to.】
Liu Qingge hummed to show he was still paying attention. For some…one? something? who seemed to respect his directness, they seemed to circle around topics themselves. It reminded him a bit of Shen Qingqiu, so he banked any sense of irritation and waited for System to get to the point.
【Thank you. But you are correct — I have not given you an answer. You are an agent of change, of chaos, if you will. Shen Yuan — Qingqiu, if you prefer — has been set a task to correct the events outlined in ‘the prophecy’. If you are willing to help him, then returning you to that world will be easy.】
“You know I would help him. You are asking something else. Speak clearly.”
【…】
【It is disconcerting how you and Shen Qingqiu speak with the System. He is very tricky and you are very direct.】
Within the encompassing darkness there was a glint of light that seemed somehow to be a display of pique from System.
Liu Qingge reached out and could feel a cool, glassy texture in front of him. It had some give, as if it were made of a window-pane shaped sugar painting, perhaps, rather than actual glass. If it weren’t his imagination, he could see a blue glow and strange writing running over it like ants in a row.
【…This is not for your eyes, Liu Qingge. You know too much already about the fabric of reality. If you see too much, we cannot send you back.】
He believed the voice and closed his eyes, withdrawing his hand. But now he was reminded of his body and was able to cross his arms over his chest and signal his impatience through body language alone.
And after a pause, the voice resumed.
【You are a special case. You are from this world, so we cannot tie you in the way we do the others. Ah — do not worry. Because of our mistake, we have relaxed many of the rules. Shen Qingqiu is now free to solve the issues in whatever way he likes. Only a few events must happen now. They are the most simple and the most difficult. Luo Binghe must become strong, without becoming heartless, and the world must not be torn asunder.】
“And you will send me back to help with this. But you think I will not agree?”
【Your agreement is a foregone conclusion. The only question is what form you take. Any choice will affect the events of ‘the prophecy’ — creating ripples of effect no one can predict…】
‘System’ seemed to sense that Liu Qingge recognized the signs of another meandering topic and hurriedly continued rather than risk his impatience.
【For further information, ask the other two about ‘chaos theory’ or ‘the butterfly effect’ — ah!】
Liu Qingge grunted his acknowledgment and made a motion for System to continue.
【The ritual the other peak lords performed was a success in at least one way: Your physical form and your spirit form were reunited. You could not be reborn as you were — as said earlier, that was not an option — but you will not be a common ghost. With the cultivation level you had attained, and with the completed ritual besides, you are too ‘OP’ for that. So you have options, which will be described to you, if you wish.】
“Then tell me.”
And System did, meticulously going through his options of what flavor of ghost he could become and what the likely outcomes of his choice might be, including how likely it was that groups who made it their duty to destroy ghosts might mount an attack against the sect for ‘harboring evil’ as he grew even more powerful.
Choosing to become a Guardian was a foregone conclusion.
System ‘casually’ commented that this would make him the first peak lord that wasn’t fully human. It did not stress any of the words — its voice was as monotone as it usually was — but Liu Qingge thought that the word ‘first’ had the slightest of pauses around it. It was not difficult for him to put that together with what he knew of Luo Binghe and the prophecy that centered over him like the eye of a hurricane.
No wonder it would be important to make sure the boy did not grow up to be heartless.
No wonder it was the original Shen Qingqiu who was replaced.
With another of those flashes he wasn’t supposed to notice, System hurriedly told him to close his eyes so he could be ‘added as Shen Qingqiu’s linked account’, whatever that meant.
In the darkness, he felt himself fall —
***
Liu Qingge came awake curled against a soft surface. He could just hear a steady and familiar heartbeat underneath the clatter of hooves and the rumble of carriage wheels.
After he recovered from the reintroduction to the affects of gravity on his body, he moved, stretching a little.
He was quick to discover that, once again, he had four paws, a long tail, and wings. Without opening his eyes, he assumed he also had a mane and tufts of fur liable to float away on a strong breeze. Back in his cloud-beast form, then. Kitten-sized version, specifically.
“Hello, darling… Did you enjoy your nap?”
Shen Qingqiu’s voice was warm, amused, and extremely relieved, though he was trying to play it off with the amusement.
Not wanting to speak if it might be inconvenient, Liu Qingge lifted his head and looked around, recognizing they were alone inside of a carriage. Turning, he saw through the open window that Luo Binghe was on horseback, currently speaking courteously with his sister.
Luo Binghe and Mingyan were both distinctly older than the last time he’d seen them.
“En,” Shen Qingqiu said, feeling him flinch with shock and evidently having anticipated the reaction. The fairy’s hand stroked down his back to soothe him. “It has been a little over two years now since the Phoenix Wood consumed the cavern. It took most of those two years for the fires to die down enough that we could investigate. I found you in the ashes. I’m glad you woke up.”
That seemed to be an understatement. There was a haunted look in his eyes and a tension in his fingers that suggested the time since they last saw each other was harder on him than he wanted to let on.
“I’m sorry I took so long,” Liu Qingge said.
It had felt like minutes — an hour or two at most.
“You promised you’d come back, and you did. That’s enough. How do you feel?”
Shen Qingqiu waved it away as if it were nothing worth mentioning. It was obviously nothing of the sort, but from the tightness around his eyes, the fairy wasn’t quite ready to discuss it yet. So Liu Qingge obliged.
“En… Stronger now. Where are we going?” he asked, his voice was raspy with disuse, but otherwise the same.
Shen Qingqiu smiled down at him, a somewhat sardonic slant to his lips. “We are on our way to the Immortal Alliance Conference. With your assistance, we’re going to prevent a massacre. And then, perhaps, throw my Little White Sheep into a great big nasty hole. If he wants to go.”
The fairy’s mask of blithe spirits and whimsical humor would probably be impenetrable to most, but Luo Qingge could see the hair-line cracks in it. He didn’t quite understand what was going on yet, but now that he was there, Shen Qingqiu wouldn’t have to deal with so much on his own anymore. He wouldn’t be another thing for the fairy to worry about while he was dealing with everything else.
“What do you mean by that?”
With a faux-frivolous attitude, Shen Qingqiu explained about how the prophesy dictated that Luo Binghe’s master betray him and throw him into the Endless Abyss, the boundary between the Demon and Human realms, in order to grow stronger and retrieve a powerful sword. Shen Qingqiu’s relief that he didn’t have to bother with the betraying part was palpable, even though it clearly distressed him that it existed at all.
“…And you’re going to ask Luo Binghe to go into the Endless Abyss to retrieve the sword?”
“Of course not! That’s a terrible idea! I’m going to offer him a chance to fulfill that destiny, mostly because I think something weird would happen if I didn’t (even if System says it’s fine), but I’m definitely going to talk him out of it. Even if I have to get on my knees and beg and cry and cling to his robes! I have no shame.”
Liu Qingge tried not to smile. “He won’t go. Not if it means leaving you behind for years.”
“Mn?” Shen Qingqiu asked, tilting his head and looking genuinely puzzled, his fingers pausing, no longer restlessly petting him for comfort. “But you’re awake now? There’s no reason for him to worry as much over this master now.”
“Look at what happened to you when both he and I were watching over you. I’m scared to ask what near-death incidents occurred these years I’ve been asleep and you had only one of us ready to protect you.”
A suspiciously guilty expression crossed the fairy’s face. “…nothing we couldn’t handle, Shidi! See? All of my limbs intact — all of my fingers and toes too. Do I need to take off my boots to prove it? Ah!”
He would get a more truthful answer later, whether it was from the fairy or from Luo Binghe, so he let it pass for now and ignored the rhetorical question. Liu Qingge slowly stretched out a leg to test his strength and flexibility. It seemed satisfactory.
“How many days until we arrive?”
“The Conference starts in nine days. We are taking a route that I hope will put us in the way of some people it would be good to befriend early. System allowed me to… well, that’s difficult to explain — but let’s say I was able to ask for information I will have no way to explain if anyone asks how I learned of it.”
“Then with nine days we have some time for this,” Liu Qingge said.
With an ease that would have been unthinkable not so long ago, he transformed to his human form so he could wrap his arms around Shen Qingqiu and pull him against his chest, dropping a kiss into his hair. He was completely solid this time; perhaps as warm as his cloud-beast body, though he couldn’t quite tell. He might always have to concentrate now to register temperatures between the ghostly chill and the raging Phoenix Wood flames that seemed likely to forever swirl deep within him.
“Let me hold you for awhile.”
Shen Qingqiu made a small sound as his calm facade shattered. After a moment of stiff indecision, he wrapped his arms tight around Liu Qingge and tucked against his chest, shivering violently.
Abandoning all pretense, Liu Qingge gathered the fairy into his lap, petting his hair and murmuring endearments and reassurances into his ear. When he inadvertently met the shocked Luo Binghe’s gaze through the open window, he flicked his own eyes to the curtains with an imperious silent order.
Luo Binghe was still very perceptive — he looked at his very upset shizun for just a moment before reaching into the carriage to close the blinds and give them privacy. The set of his shoulders and the slight curve of his lips before the blinds swung closed suggested both relief and a certain amount of contentment. He must have been very worried about his shizun these last two years.
The entire exchange took place in mere seconds. Liu Qingge turned his attention back to the trembling fairy in his arms, ready to wipe away the tears as they fell.
Shen Qingqiu didn’t cry.
For more than an hour, he shuddered like he was in danger of falling apart in his arms, but he didn’t cry. Liu Qingge almost wished he would, sensing that the catharsis of more than two years of tension would have helped, but he wasn’t going to push him into it.
Instead, Liu Qingge ran his fingers through the fairy’s hair, stroked along his back, and when the trembling slowed and his hands stopped clutching at him, Liu Qingge gently ran his fingertips along the outer curve of his ears, down his arms, and onto the palms of his hand, all the way until it ended with their fingertips sliding against each other, and he began again.
“…Shidi…” the fairy nearly croaked, exhausted now as he watched Liu Qingge’s fingers explore his hands. “…are you… Are you petting me the way I did to you when you were a little cloud-beast?”
Liu Qingge smiled. “En.”
“I… I don’t have paws!” Shen Qingqiu protested with a sputter, though he was almost laughing as he tried to portray outrage.
He didn’t stiffen or pull his hand away, so Liu Qingge continued, pressing their fingertips together and playfully wiggling his fingers the fairy’s palm in a move that would have made him reflexively extend his claws at the very least if he’d been in cloud-beast form. He probably would have wanted to bite.
“This is somehow three times as annoying when you do it to me. I protest that it is not fair.”
The fairy didn’t sound the least bit annoyed. A smile kept turning up the corners of his mouth.
“Mmn. I see — should I stop?”
There were a few moments of silence as Liu Qingge patiently waited the fairy out. After a breath, Shen Qingqiu shyly tucked his face against Liu Qingge’s chest and murmured, “…You don’t have to stop.” And after a pause, he rebelliously muttered, “Don’t think I won’t remember this the next time you have toe beans.”
“En. I understand. As I said before… you can always touch. You don’t have to ask.”
Liu Qingge leaned in to place a chaste kiss at Shen Qingqiu’s hairline and was rewarded by a soft, pleased sound as the fairy relaxed more against him. Delighted, Liu Qingge drew Shen Qingqiu’s hand up so he could kiss his fingertips with a smile, watching as Shen Qingqiu’s green, green eyes seemed to melt.
Beautiful.
“Is that really okay?” Shen Qingqiu asked softly. “I know you don’t like to be touched much… I don’t mind asking so you’re prepared…?”
“Mn. It’s the other way. I liked it too much.”
Shen Qingqiu seemed to think the response over before shaking his head. “I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
Liu Qingge hummed softly to himself, lightly tracing his fingertips over the side of the fairy’s neck with one hand and slipping his fingers underneath Shen Qingqiu’s sleeve to do the same at his wrist and forearm with the other. He felt the fairy go nearly as boneless at the touch — as he did whenever the roles were reversed.
“Whenever you would touch me and I’d get overstimulated, it was… disquieting at best. I am used to my body obeying me. I was horrified of the idea of hurting you. So I put a lot of thought into understanding how I could control that reflex.”
“I know you weren’t trying to hurt me, though… Plus, I like teasing you,” Shen Qingqiu said quietly, though he seemed to understand already that it wasn’t the point.
Liu Qingge still shook his head and rested his forehead against the fairy’s. “There is no good reason to hurt you. And less reason to allow myself to lash out for no reason. Once I recognized why it was happening, I realized that if I did not address the root cause, I would not be able to safely progress through my cultivation. Have you heard of the concept of ‘touch-starved’?”
Shen Qingqiu had, but asked him to tell him in his own words anyway, so Liu Qingge went through it, adding that he’d been prepared to explain it all and confess his feelings if not for the disgraced healer’s poisoning and final attack disrupting his intentions.
Realizing that Liu Qingge had been sitting on his realization of love and intentions to confess only to be prevented seemed to dismay Shen Qingqiu, who immediately fell to complaining that he’d taken the high road with the ‘trash’ healer. The fairy claimed that in hindsight, he wished he’d “curb-stomped” him instead.
He was probably being dramatic, but since Liu Qingge wasn’t entirely certain what ‘curb-stomped’ meant other than it seemed violent, he thought it best to soothe the fairy with sweet words whispered in his ear and more gentle touches until he relaxed again.
“I missed this,” Shen Qingqiu sighed. “Having you at my side; your voice close. …it’s better with the touches and kisses, though,” he added with a tilt of his head and a sly, sidelong smile as he almost coyly toyed with the collar of Liu Qingge’s robe.
“En. I probably wanted to do this from the start. Maybe that is why I spent months only being able to whisper to you,” Liu Qingge responded with a slight smirk of his own.
“It’s probably better to whisper right now anyway. Too many nosy cultivators around, and I should explain about the Immortal Alliance Conference…” Shen Qingqiu sighed.
And so he did, mentioning the events he expected and hoped to prevent from occurring, about the people he hoped to meet, and a promise to explain more later about Luo Binghe’s part in this when there wasn’t such a great risk of him overhearing things he shouldn’t and taking action on his own.
By that point, there were kisses between the words and touches that were maybe a little too intimate, and they’d begun to realize that to let it continue any further was inadvisable with their lack of proper privacy.
That didn’t stop Liu Qingge from leaning in to murmur roguishly against his ear.
“It seems likely to be at least another hour before we stop for the night, Shixiong… Did you want to tell me about what has happened these last two years? Or would you rather tell me about what you read while I was sleeping?”
Shen Qingqiu sputtered a laugh before pushing him down to the floor of the carriage so he could lay half over him and play with his hair. Then, surprising neither of them, the bookish fairy leaned in to whisper into his ear, telling him all of the interesting things he’d found between the pages of those novels.
Liu Qingge now knew vividly that words could be just as stimulating as touch.
***
It would be quite awhile — weeks, really — before either could bear to be any further apart than one long stride that would close the distance. More often, they were much closer than that.
Mingyan and Luo Binghe teased them over it — just a little, in the way people do when they think it’s sweet and actually want to encourage it. Their approval was soft and unspoken, but clear none the less.
Shang Qinghua only commented that he’d never before considered that it might be okay to have feelings for someone in the prophecy. He said it multiple times, as if it were some earth-shattering revelation he was still trying to process.
No one else dared say a word, regardless of what they thought. But at least no one seemed to actually disapprove — not that their opinions were sought. To be fair, everyone else in their party was a simple disciple and seemed far too awestruck (or intimidated) by them to consider for a moment that they had any right to have an opinion on it to begin with.
Whenever they arrived at one of the way-points along the way, Shen Qingqiu’s personal disciples (sometimes with Mingyan’s assistance, if necessary) made certain that their master and their shishu were properly taken care of immediately. Once the two had settled in for the night, no one would dream of disturbing them for anything less than a full-scale demon attack. (Even then, when it wasn’t hyperbole and it actually had happened, it was taken care of and they only heard about it in the morning from a very smug looking Luo Binghe. Liu Qingge was disquieted about how disappointed he didn’t feel for missing it.)
This routine began from the very first night after Liu Qingge woke up, as if it had been discussed among the trio of Qing Jing disciples since the trip was planned. Or even earlier than that. Considering what good friends the three had become with Mingyan, he was willing to bet it was established between them all from nearly the moment his kitten-shaped body was pulled from the ashes and brought out of the cave.
Everyone’s indulgence made the lead-up to the Conference far easier to bear than if they’d had to tip-toe around their mutual desire to remain close enough to touch.
***
Shen Qingqiu and Liu Qingge began their exploration of what ideas they liked from the novels from behind the comfortingly thick walls of a very good inn.
Not one of the toe-curling ideas that made their faces flush and their hearts pound — but something to test the waters and let them learn at their own pace, not feeling bound by the bruising rushes into becoming lovers used in many of the stories.
It was simply this: sharing an intimate dinner together, feeding each other and lacing their fingers as they talked. Then they helped each other brush out their hair before undressing for bed.
They held each other, whispering in each other’s ears, exploring exposed skin and covered planes and curves with fingertips; smiling when they found each others’ ticklish spots. When Shen Qingqiu began to fall asleep, they exchanged more kisses until the fairy’s eyes finally closed and his breathing slowed.
Liu Qingge remained awake, simply running feather-soft touches along his lover’s hair and body. He could sleep if he wished, but he didn’t really need to and at the moment. This was too new and important for him to sacrifice in return for sleep. He felt like more than two years was plenty enough for now.
Some time later, he was pulled from his thoughts by the fairy shifting in his sleep and opening his eyes again. There was a flash of surprise in his eyes before they glistened with unshed tears and he moved closer.
“You’re here,” the fairy whispered, moving forward to press a kiss to Liu Qingge’s throat in a sleepy little move that made Liu Qingge’s heart flutter.
“En.”
The clench of Shen Qingqiu’s hand and the shivery intake of breath told him there were things the fairy needed to say before he could sleep easily, so he waited patiently.
“I was worried it was a dream. Ever since the first time, with the exploding goban… I’ve… always been worried you might not come back.”
Rather than speak, Liu Qingge took his hand and pressed a kiss into the palm before drawing it to his face for Shen Qingqiu to touch — to let him verify his presence himself. Shen Qingqiu’s fingers cupped his cheek, curling underneath his jaw, before his fingers began exploring his face, eventually coming to cup it again. His thumb brushed over the beauty mark under his eye for a few moments before slipping into his hair to hold.
“I am here,” Liu Qingge confirmed gently. “If I am not already, then I will become so powerful I will never have to leave you again.”
“Good.”
Their lips met in a kiss that was gentle on one side and fierce on the other — one demanding and the other reassuring. When it ended, Shen Qingqiu settled back on his side again, his forehead resting gently on Liu Qingge’s collarbone as his fingers ran along the lapel of his night clothes to toy with the tie at his waist.
“System wouldn’t let me do anything to help you,” Shen Qingqiu said after a few moments, tucking closer and tangling his fingers in the fabric. “I had all of these… ‘merits’ …that I had earned. They were supposed to be something I could spend to make things easier for me. But System wouldn’t let me spend them on you. I was told to just wait. ‘Just wait’ while Qiong Ding Peak burned inside and leaked steam through its cracks for two years. The villagers all thought the mountain had become a volcano… Many fled rather than risk it. Especially when the mountain began to shriek at night.”
“Mmn… I remember the screaming. It was the only thing I could hear other than System and the flames from the time the ritual began.”
Shen Qingqiu froze, gripping at him. “System?”
“En. I was not told much — there are still things about the fairy world I’m not meant to know. I am tasked to help you. But I would have done that anyway.”
“The… fairy world…” Shen Qingqiu said slowly, looking up at him through his lashes. His expression was stunned enough to be almost blank.
“En. I don’t know what you call yourselves. But I like the idea of having a fairy lover without having to have stolen their celestial raiment so they couldn’t fly home again.” Liu Qingge smiled wryly down at Shen Qingqiu. “I would want you to choose me, as I chose you.”
Shen Qingqiu’s face went through several odd expressions before settling on a blush and a laugh before he shook his head. “I… Of course I chose you. From before I knew I had. Even before I saw your face, which, really, was completely unfair.”
“Unfair?”
“If I’d known someone who looked like you was watching me get undressed at night—” Shen Qingqiu said, with faux bashfulness.
“I did not watch you get undressed,” Liu Qingge said firmly, scowling a little. He knew he was being teased, but some things needed to be defended.
“You did tonight.”
Liu Qingge blushed before primly saying, “Because you watched me first.”
“Aiyah… I must be a wicked fairy then, to corrupt my sweet, innocent Shidi,” Shen Qingqiu teased, playfully patting his cheek.
Liu Qingge rolled his eyes but still smiled. After Shen Qingqiu’s giggles at his expense calmed, Liu Qingge asked, “What should I call you if not ‘fairy’?”
Shen Qingqiu looked shy and flustered again. The teasing had probably been a way to deflect. But Liu Qingge wanted to know so that he wasn’t inadvertently disrespectful to whatever Shen Qingqiu’s wishes were.
“…You can call me ‘fairy’. Maybe it’s easier to explain that way… though it’s embarrassing. We’re not fairies — especially not Shang Qinghua!”
Liu Qingge chuckled and kissed his brow. “You only say that because you can’t see yourself through my eyes, my fairy.”
Shen Qingqiu’s skin went even more red before he covered his face with both of his hands and made a little near-whimpering sound.
“…In my world you would be able to slay hundreds if you just looked at them like that. You’re so beautiful — I thought my heart was going to stop. Too powerful, Liu-Juju, ah! OP! OP!”
Amused at his fairy’s adorable nonsense, Liu Qingge just ran his fingers through his hair until Shen Qingqiu’s embarrassment subsided and he curled against him again. Liu Qingge thought that he was going to watch him drift off asleep once more when Shen Qingqiu spoke.
“I love you,” Shen Qingqiu murmured. “I realized… after… that I had felt that way for a long time. I just couldn’t… wouldn’t let myself join the dots until you said it first — how could I think you might be interested in me in that way? And… after… I kept finding things that made me think, ‘ah… I felt it even then’. Like perhaps I always had. Maybe somehow even before I knew for sure you were around protecting me.”
“En, and teasing you.”
“Mmn,” Shen Qingqiu chuckled. “And now new types of teasing, too.”
“En.”
Shen Qingqiu laughed at his tone before rolling him underneath and kissing him senseless (a much more useful term than ‘breathless’ for a ghost).
***
A few nights later, after a long day of travel and an encounter with a surprisingly persistent group of mountain bandits who didn’t know how to admit when they were outmatched, Shen Qingqiu asked Liu Qingge to fall asleep together with him. It was an easy request to grant, especially when Shen Qingqiu confessed that seeing the bandit leader’s axe try to chop Liu Qingge in half, only for him to shift to a more ghostly body so it could pass harmlessly through him had greatly stressed his fairy lover, who hadn’t realized he had that ability.
Liu Qingge was happy to chase away any potential bad dreams by spending the evening first allowing Shen Qingqiu to verify all of him was whole, and then “be the big spoon” as they drifted off to sleep together.
As far as he was aware, they both slept through the night peacefully, though Shen Qingqiu woke him up in the early hours with a nibble to his neck.
The pleased sound Liu Qingge apparently made at that was described by Shen Qingqiu as, “A purr.” After they’d playfully squabbled over whether or not he purred when he wasn’t a cloud-beast (and Liu Qingge pretended that cloud-beasts couldn’t purr, so he had no idea what he meant by it anyway), they settled together to just enjoy some time doing nothing but holding each other.
The sound-of-questionable-nature prompted Shen Qingqiu to interrupt the cozy quiet after awhile to confess to being greatly affected by Liu Qingge’s voice. It, more than anything, had been what made him become more aware of Liu Qingge, it seemed.
“And since I didn’t consider myself as someone who was attracted to men, I really didn’t know what to do when the conversations made me so flustered… I just knew that not having them was unacceptable,” Shen Qingqiu admitted. “Maybe it was a bit like you described before, about getting overstimulated. Of liking it, but being half driven mad by it too.”
“So… if I lay like this with you, and whispered like I used to into your ear…?” Liu Qingge asked as they lounged together in the early morning light that filtered in through the shutters.
Shen Qingqiu squirmed, his skin flushing. “…I’d… I’d get flustered, yes.”
“En… I like you ‘flustered’,” Liu Qingge said, dropping his voice a little into nearly a purr as he teased. “What sort of things could I say to make you overstimulated, then, I wonder?”
His fairy made a faint sound of pleased frustration before twisting around to tuck his face against Liu Qingge’s chest, pouting. “Teasing Shidi…”
“En. But Shixiong has already confessed to liking that.” He moved so he could ever-so-carefully bite at Shen Qingqiu’s ear before murmuring, “So I will tease my fairy until he asks me to stop…”
“Uhn… Liu-Juju, please…” Shen Qingqiu said in a way that pretended to be a complaint. But he didn’t actually ask him to stop.
Liu Qingge chuckled and took it as invitation instead, happily ‘pleasing’ as requested until his fairy was wrecked.
Breakfast had to be delayed.
***
The two of them had checked off a dozen or so of the things from the novels that Shen Qingqiu had been most curious about by the time they reached the Immortal Alliance Conference. Each of these was explored thoroughly, some with great enthusiasm. Others were crossed off the list entirely, and the rest put on hold for when they weren’t also trying to plan to reroute Fate into more agreeable lines.
These sinfully delicious items on their list started with scandalous, self-indulgent handholding in public and continued on to a somewhat more complicated, “upside down kiss” (which was easily accomplished considering Liu Qingge was both a powerful ghost and an accomplished immortal cultivator, but provoked more laughter than toe-curling and resulted in two other items being crossed off the list without being tried at all). They’d agreed to attempt “kissing in the rain” when they returned home and could afford to enjoy both the kissing (when they wouldn’t be chased inside by well-meaning disciples) and the undressing each other so they could warm up after.
And as they added more people to their ‘party’ (as the fairies called their group which by this point included the three of them, Luo Binghe, Mingyan, a snake demon, and an ice demon Shang Qinghua only referred to as ‘My King’ in a way and with such frequency that almost made him want to throttle the hapless little fairy until he realized why the fairy had been so struck by the idea of being allowed to love someone from the prophecy), it was looking as if they would have all the time in the world for each other.
All they needed for that was to raise Luo Binghe properly and keep him from destroying the world — which he thought should be relatively simple.
Liu Qingge and Luo Binghe quickly learned they got along quite well, especially as he was quite willing to conspire with the young man to protect Shen Qingqiu. After seeing how useful Binghe’s sneaky nature was to safeguard his fairy, it did not bother him to turn a blind eye to it provided the behavior continued to be used in a positive manner.
He just didn’t understand why his System seemed anxious.
In a few days, Liu Qingge would find himself in adult cloud-beast form, breathing jets of blue fire at monsters, Shen Qingqiu on his back and the rest of the group moving to flank them, with dozens of rescued disciples from all of the participating sects of the Immortal Alliance Conference trailing behind in their wake.
But for tonight, their last night before they arrived at the Conference, he was content to spend the evening in bed, turning pages of a book for his fairy until Shen Qingqiu fell asleep in his arms.
He had no way of knowing that somewhere else in the inn, his sister was quietly penning the first draft of a tale of their love that would in time pass down into folklore. It would grow to reflect the local colors where the story was retold, and be known under many different names.
For now, it was simply titled, The Guardian Ghost and the Bookish Fairy.
[END]