Chapter Text
A ghostly white shadow hovering over Liu Qingge scattered into wisps at the shot of spiritual energy. Liu Qingge turned, hitting his back against Shen Qingqiu's in the process. They both shuddered and jumped apart, unsettled they had touched.
The words that left Liu Qingge's mouth were rough with surprise.
"Shen Qingqiu. You helped?"
That... was unexpected. Liu Qingge noticed? Actually noticed? Didn't jump to any conclusions from that graze to the shoulder?
Well, Bai Zhan disciples did have excellent spatial awareness, so... not impossible. Their physical cultivation was higher than most, and in the battleground they called home, a lack of perception could be costly and reduce their rankings in their master's eyes.
Or maybe Shang Qinghua had gotten the timing wrong in the first place. This might not be the mission that added some mud to Shen Qingqiu's reputation. It could be a separate mission in a month or a year, ten years. It just had to be before they became Peak Lords. That's what he recalled from his work.
If it was...?
Who could say.
Maybe Liu Qingge got a full night's rest last night. Ate a good breakfast. Did all his stretches and warmups. All in tip top shape and a good enough mood not to let anger cloud his judgement of the situation.
Shang Qinghua nodded on the ground, supportive of this turn of events. Just don't say anything, or even better, say yes. Let Liu Qingge understand that Shen-shixiong isn't so bad.
Shen Qingqiu stared at Liu Qingge in complete and utter baffled disgust and lied right to his face, unable to help himself. "No."
Oh my God. The mini scum villain doesn't disappoint!
Now, Shen Qingqiu really went and stuck his foot in his mouth. The main forces of this battle weren't paying attention to the resentful spirits around them. They were only focused on each other.
Guys? Guys?!
The ghosts!!! Have your spat later, come on.
"You did. You helped me," Liu Qingge claimed, pointing an accusatory finger at him. If one took his expression alone for context, you would think he was pissed off. No, he was only trying to process.
And Shen Qingqiu's face? That of an aggrieved and terribly bullied maiden! "Why would I bother helping you?"
"You didn't mount a sneak attack. You helped me."
"Such baseless claims are an affront to this senior's character."
"Yes, you did. Admit it."
"I WOULDN'T HELP YOU IF YOU WERE BEING MURDERED IN FRONT OF MY EYES AND EATEN RAW! PERISH!"
"LIES! YOU'RE BEING AN UPSTANDING MISSIONS PARTNER! NO SNEAK ATTACKS WHEN BACKS ARE TURNED!"
"TURN THAT BACK AROUND, AND WE'LL SEE!"
Shang Qinghua slapped a hand over his face. These two. These two. Between the aggressive compliments and even more aggressive denials, their age really showed.
He dared to speak up because, remember, GHOSTS. Somebody needed to clear them out. Help. Fragile martial brother over here. Playing dead only worked so long.
"Don't fight, you two. Shen-shixiong, you really did help Liu-shidi just now-"
"If you want to die, then do a thorough job of it. Don't get back up in the middle," came Shen Qingqiu's chilly voice, and Shang Qinghua erred to wisdom and shut up. Not the time, heard.
"Take responsibility," Liu Qingge demanded.
Shen Qingqiu's face turned red. "What."
Shen Qingqiu knew that Liu Qingge meant take responsibility for dispersing that resentful spirit. Shang Qinghua knew that Liu Qingge meant take responsibility for dispersing that resentful spirit. Liu Qingge knew that Liu Qingge meant take responsibility for dispersing that resentful spirit.
Say yes I did. That's what he wanted.
But it sounded a bit... you know?
"It's your action. Take responsibility. When it matters, you perform your duty."
"When it doesn't, this senior's work is a disgrace. Is that what you're saying?"
The ghosts, Shang Qinghua despaired to himself as an epic swordfight proceeded. What about the ghosts?
The resentful spirits were sealed up before any fragile martial brothers were harassed.
Liu Qingge sat up at the front with Shang Qinghua as he drove the carriage. Shen Qingqiu had shut the door in his face and locked him out. Probably for the best. If they had another argument while inside a moving vehicle, they were all walking home. That vehicle would be in ruins. Having to explain that to Shizun would be a headache.
No, inter-Peak relations are going great, Shizun. The carriage just happened to explode because they sat in it and talked for more than two sentences. Ugh.
Liu Qingge was staring into the distance, stoic and expressionless.
"Liu-shidi," Shang Qinghua chanced.
"What?" Liu Qingge looked over.
"Next time, it may be best not to make such a big deal of Shen-shixiong's actions." Tone it down a notch. Shen Qingqiu couldn't handle embarrassment with grace. He would just kick your ass.
"He always claims he is going to kill me at the end of our fights."
"He does do that."
"He lent me a hand."
That's... "It's just his job. He's good at his job."
"He prioritizes the mission."
"You respect that," Shang Qinghua commented, earning a slight nod. This kid. Honestly. Is this all it takes to make him happy? Future War Gods shouldn't be this wholesome.
Shen Qingqiu didn't even do anything that special. It was the bare minimum. If he went and saved his life a couple decades in the future, how would he react?
"I don't like him," Liu Qingge added.
"Okay?" No one was doubting that here.
"He's not a half bad shixiong."
The window on the right side of the carriage slid open, and a sword came floating out, swerving to try and impale Liu Qingge's neck. See? Embarrassed your shixiong again!
Shang Qinghua shrieked and ducked out of the way, clutching the reins for dear life.
No damage to the carriage, miraculously, but they (he and the horses) had to stop and wait for Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu to quit chasing each other around with swords and shouting insults at each other.
Four hours.
FOUR HOURS.
FOUR DAMN HOURS OF HIS LIFE.
Only back at his An Ding quarters could he breathe a sigh of relief.
Finally, someone normal.
This person's temper was also bad, but Mobei-Jun never spent four hours arguing with him over something as stupid as that earlier thing. He was much less complicated. He would tell him what he wanted, and that was that. No extra bits.
"My king!" Shang Qinghua glomped onto his thigh and skillfully dodged the hand that attempted to smack him free. "You came early."
"Busy tomorrow," Mobei-Jun claimed.
"Your father needs you in Court."
That blink doubled as a yes.
"An all day thing?"
A nod.
"May I do your hair while we talk today?" There was no better stress relief than fiddling with Mobei-Jun's hair. It was almost superior to taking a nap. Almost. "It has become messy. My king ought to look his best at all times."
Mobei-Jun offered, "Mn," and finally kicked him off.
There was not a single hair out of place nor a jewel nor braid.
Shang Qinghua took what needed taking down down and got started, sinking his fingers into the smooth silk. They dragged down without snagging. The demon's hair never snarled or took knots easily. Straight as a needle and thick enough to make any supermodel jealous.
Ah, this was the stuff. Demon hair therapy.
His king could make a fortune off it.
Shang Qinghua picked up a comb and began playing with fixing the demon's hair. Any headaches regarding his other characters melted away with each stroke of his comb, frost on a sunny day. Demon hair therapy. So worth it.