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On the first day of Spring the demonic emperor sent out a decree across all lands. He would hold a contest. This was not particularly out of the ordinary. Tianlang-jun was well known for his whimsical nature. He was as liable to host a days long feast or a hunt as he was to disappear for days at a time before finally being located at some small inn playing a wandering artist.

What was noteworthy was the prize for winning this contest.

Shen Qingqiu stalked down the path towards the demonic palace. He really had no desire join this contest. But of course he'd gone on that ridiculous mission with Liu Qingge. And of course, their hosts had insisted on celebrating the success of the ghost removal, and of course they'd filled Shen Qingqiu's cup again and again. He'd stumbled into the garden trying to clear his head and plowed right into Liu Qingge. Whenever he was around Liu Qingge they fought and this was no different. But in his drunken state, Shen Qingqiu had claimed if they fought hand to hand, Shen Qingqiu would definitely win.

He did not.

So now he was stuck trying to fulfill the drunken bet he'd made by participating in a stupid contest. He'd promised Liu Qingge a legendary weapon and he intended to fulfill that promise. It would be easier to win the contest and claim a new weapon for Liu Qingge from Tianlang-jun's vault than it would be for him to search the three realms for one. He'd stopped at the Warm Red Pavilion and let the jies dress him up in a disguise, then set out on his way.

The moon was full, casting the world in shades of blue. It was not a bad night. The breeze was still cool but the hint of spring was in the air and Shen Qingqiu could smell the faint aroma of flowers beginning to peek up from the earth. This particular place was towards the east of the demon realm and was not subjected to the harsh winds and barren wastes as some of the other demonic areas.

Windchimes clinked in the breeze and Shen Qingqiu looked up to see a lone well settled near a small copse of trees. The chimes hung from its side beckoned, glinting in the moonlight. A small bench wrapped around its stone surface. He paused, looking back at the path. But the night was still young and he was ahead of schedule. He took a seat, tilting his head up to look at the bright and twinkling stars.

He sighed. Even in moments of peace he felt he could not fully relax. He was always pushing, always running, chasing some goal that he was no longer sure he could achieve. He just wanted to be satisfied. He wished that his life was better, that he could live in a world where he would finally belong.

A man's voice cut the air.

"A light mist envelops the dim moon."

Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes and willed the sudden jolt in his heart to calm. He cocked a brow as he turned to see an older man, gray streaks shining in his dark curls

"A perfect night to go to my darling's side," Shen Qingqiu replied. "Do you generally intrude on people to recite poetry or is this a special case?"

The man’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Only when the occasion inspires me.” Moonlight danced in his dark pupils as his gaze traveled Shen Qingqiu’s face. “And tonight, I am very inspired.”

Shen Qingqiu scoffed and took out his fan, peering behind it with narrowed eyes.

"Then go take your inspiration where it will be appreciated. I have other things to do."

And no interest in entertaining some bored lord, he thought.

Shen Qingqiu stood, striding away from the well. He thought that would be that but the irritating lord kept on following him.

“If you’re planning to join the demon emperor’s contest, I suggest you back out now,” the man said. “So many dangerous types there—humans, demons, monsters with long, sharp claws. It would be such a shame to put your life in danger or marr that lovely face.”

Shen Qingqiu ignored him, irriration stirring in his gut. Why was this man underestimating the Xiu Ya Sword? He was in disguise but still. Did he really look like some delicate maiden that could not handle himself?

"Truly, this lord only wishes to—"

Shen Qingqiu spun on his heel and pointed his fan in the man's face. "And what do you know? Perhaps you should be warning people away from me?"

Instead of backing away or cowering, the light in the man’s eyes sparked. He held out his hands and grinned.

"Here I thought my friend might have been a fairy from the moon, delicate and unreachable. But it turns out he was actually a dragon caught in shallow water."

Shen Qingqiu shot him another glare. Then turned to stride away again. He already knew there was no use arguing with people like this.

The man continued following him as the moon set and they drew closer to the palace, trying to strike conversation. Each time Shen Qingqiu ignored him. At the first hints of dawn, the sky turning pink and purple, Shen Qingqiu turned to find they were no longer alone.

He clenched his jaw against the urgency to jump as a handsome but strange looking young man seemed to appear out of nowhere. He bowed his head to Shen Qingqiu politely then whispered something to the stalker.

"Ah, alas, I have to leave you now," the man placed his hands to his heart. Shen Qingqiu arched an unimpressed brow. "Your presence has only sweetened the night. May fate allow us to see each other again."

Shen Qingqiu did not dignify him with a response, turning and continuing his way down the path. Within a few steps both stalker and his companion were gone.

Good riddance.

Morning had broken by the time Shen Qingqiu reached the palace where the contest was being held. A crowd of people had gathered at the edge of the forest leading to the gates. Shouts filled the air as contestants pushed and shoved each other. Shen Qingqiu elbowed his way to the front of the crowd and saw that the bridge connecting the gates to palace was broken. Below his feet was a sheer drop to a rushing river.

A group of young, badly disguised disciples from Huan Hua whispered to each other at his side.

"Do you think you can make the jump?"

"No way," another hissed back. "Even a great master would have a hard time.

Shen Qingqiu judged the distance. They were correct that it was quite far but he thought of that brute Liu Qingge and whipped out his fan. He would not be stuck wandering around looking for a way to satisfy the bet when he'd come all this way. He swept his fan out behind him with a burst of qi. The wind kicked up, forcing the crowd out of the way. Then he backed up a few steps and darted forward, leaping nimbly into the air.

The crowd went silent for a moment then broke into a rush of shouts. The air rushed around Shen Qingqiu, fluttering his robes as his body became light as air. The water churned below him but he paid it no mind, focusing on the other side. His foot dusted the wood planks of the bridge as he alighted on the other side, his robes settling around him. He turned, fluttering his fan. The contestants stared back, then the air shook with thunderous applause.

Shen Qingqiu’s successful attempt gave the other contestants the courage to try their luck. People jumped dozens at a time. Some reached the other side, others missed their mark, their screams echoing as they plummeted into the abyss.

Shen Qingqiu swept away without a backwards glance to the palace gates. His footsteps faltered as he heard a voice call to him.

"Clothes like clouds, a face like flowers."

Shen Qingqiu fought the impulse to run a hand down his face.

"I'm surprised we didn't meet at the peak of jade mountain," the voice continued.

"Wouldn't under the moon at jade tower be more fitting?" Shen Qingqiu cocked a brow at his stalker who sat lazily on the side wall by the palace gate. "If you wanted to scope out the competition, you need not have bothered me with your amateur poetry recitations."

"Ah, but how else would I have paid proper ode to your beauty?"

Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes. His gaze caught on an official in dark robes. She was ushering the contestants who'd made the jump into an interior courtyard. Once everyone was inside, she struck a gong and said, “The contest is officially begun. The rules are as follows."

A hush descended on the crowd as the official pulled out a scroll.

“This contest is simple. Each contestant will be given a cup of tea that they must hold in their hand at all times. Anyone who breaks their cup or spills over half their tea will be eliminated. Contestants are encouraged to break, steal, or sabotage their opponents’ cups. The last person with an undamaged cup with more than half of their tea will be declared the winner.”

"You know," the stalker drawled, sliding up beside Shen Qingqiu. "We could form an alliance. I could watch your back and you—Hey!"

Shen Qingqiu walked away to go pick up his cup from the official. As if he'd trust anyone to watch his back, let alone some strange lord that had stalked him all the way here.

The cup was smooth porcelain, the tea jasmine, its floral scent drifting from the warm surface. He let his qi flow into it to reinforce the cup and keep the liquid still, then turned to size up his opponents.

To his left was a furred demon with electricity crackling along his skin—no doubt some kind of wielder of lightning. To his right was a woman with reptile-like scales running down her face and hands that changed color with every shift of the light like a chameleon. He could’ve sworn that she was a tall, dark man in a wide-brimmed hat previously.

No matter, he'd treat them all the same. With his free hand he made a sword seal, but not to summon Xiu Ya— that would be as good as shouting his name from the rooftops. Instead his fan sprang free from his sash, sweeping out to cast a gust of wind in around him. It knocked the two demons away. They skidded across the stone as he leapt back, darting low and to the side as swift as a cat.

Already the courtyard was abuzz with conversation as alliances were forged and sealed. At the same time, angry shouting rose from the crowd as the same alliances dissolved as quickly they formed. The sound of shattered ceramic echoed around him.

The contest had begun.

Fools, Shen Qingqiu thought to himself as he darted around trees and flowering bushes filling the courtyard. Better to trust no one than find oneself in the company of a two-faced friend.

Shen Qingqiu watched as a cultivator in a veiled hat balanced their cup with one hand and pulled out a pearlescent bow with the other. They shot a burst of pure qi across the crowd, knocking a few contestants to the ground. Cups flew and spilled on the carved stone beneath their feet, littering shards of porcelain across the ground. Shen Qingqiu didn't watch for long, sinking down then leaping up to avoid the crack of a young demon girl's whip. He sidestepped, then sidestepped again, before flipping over her head and snapping his leg up to kick a heel into her back, knocking her to the ground.

He looked above him and a strategy formed in his mind. Clutching his teacup close to his chest like a fragile egg, he leapt over the crowd, dodging contestants who tried to grab at his flowing robes. He shifted his body as he danced from one tree top to a tiled roof, kicking at those beneath him. He sent several toppling back to the courtyard below, their cups of tea spraying out in an arc.

He leapt to another higher roof, then a metallic outcropping in the shape of a dragon, then at last he reached the palace walls. With his qinggong, he ran up the wall, movements as a swift and sure as a bird in flight. When he reached the top of the parapet, he stopped to view the destruction below him.

"Out of the sea, the bright moon is born. I—"

Shen Qingqiu whipped around and the stalker delicately dodged his kick with a spin, graceful as a dancer. The stalker held up his hands laughing.

"I was only trying to say I was happy to be reunited with you up here."

"Shut up." Shen Qingqiu snapped his fan forward and the stalker leapt backward, his smile never leaving his face.

“Isn’t it a fine day? A cool mountain breeze, a wonderful vista below, the music of nature around us.” A cacophony of screams and ceramic shattering filled the air and Shen Qingqiu stared at him. The stalker sat down at a depression in the wall, settling back as if the stones were a throne. “My lovely companion should take the time to relax and enjoy the moment.” He took out his teacup from his sleeve and raised it to Shen Qingqiu then took a sip.

“A bit lukewarm, but has a clean finish.”

Shen Qingqiu narrowed his eyes. Madness.

"What kind of fool does not prepare for rain," Shen Qingqiu scoffed, fluttering his fan. "Or are you like the bird losing its nest?"

"Is it lack of preparation or have I only realized that even gold can't buy time? Sit and enjoy the moment with this lord, won't you?"

Shen Qingqiu's mouth twisted. He struck out with his palm. The stalker's laugh was rich and musical as he knocked the blow of qi away. Shen Qingqiu struck again, and again but each time the stalker blocked, his handsome face splitting into a wider grin.

"Well." The stalker took another sip of his tea as he rose to his feet. "How could I refuse a great beauty if he wanted a dance?"

In one breath he was in front of Shen Qingqiu, leaning into him, his face only a hair's breadth away. Shen Qingqiu’s eyes widened. He jumped back, heart racing. The stalker followed and this time, it was as if he had transported himself behind Shen Qingqiu. Shen Qingqiu spun on his toes to face him, only for the stalker to once again disappear and reappear at his side, then again at his back. Shen Qingqiu’s heart thumped, the tea in his cup sloshing with the rhythm of their movements. The constant pivoting and sidestepping twirled and billowed Shen Qingqiu’s robes. From an outsider’s perspective, it must’ve looked as if they really were engaging in an elaborate dance.

Shen Qingqiu took a deep breath, calming his racing heart and rising temper. It wouldn't do to let this man work him up and then lose the contest. He waited for the next appearance of the stalker then spun the opposite direction, circling around his back so he could find a chance to strike. The man lifted his hand blocking, but he was forced to step back. Shen Qingqiu pushed the advantage, trading blow for blow as they circled around and around each other.

"Beautiful and skilled." The man bent backward as the side of Shen Qingqiu's hand swept just over his head. "I'm sure someone like yourself must have whole harem of suitors at your beck and call."

Shen Qingqiu scoffed. "I don't have time for lovers."

Just then, a great crack sounded. The brick below their feet smashed into powder. They jumped apart, each spinning to face the newcomer. From the cloud of dust emerged the young woman with the whip.

“Your teacups are mine to destroy,” she declared and swept her whip in a wide arc. She was surprisingly fast and dexterous, the edge of her whip tearing into a corner of Shen Qingqiu’s sleeve.

“A new guest has arrived,” the stalker said. “A competitor for my peerless beauty's attention. Would you join our dance?"

“I’m not here to play games!” She roared, and struck out with her whip. The stalker dodged it easily, hardly breaking his stride.

"A little help, baobei?" He called.

"Don't call me that," Shen Qingqiu snapped. The woman's gaze darted to him, a line cut between her brows. Shen Qingqiu sighed, feeling a headache coming on. This fool. Now it looked like they were together.

The whip cracked close to his head, sending a tremor down his spine. A vision surfaced of Qiu Jianluo's smiling face, his fingers curling on the handle of the whip. Shen Qingqiu swallowed back bile. Now was not the time to think of the past. Even if he hadn't wanted to help the stalker, he clearly couldn't just leave him to this woman either since she'd set her sights on Shen Qingqiu too.

Fine then.

He leapt into the air as the stalker went low. The man caught his eye, a spark of glowing red flooding their depths. Then they struck out together. Shen Qingqiu's fan sliced through the whip as if it were paper as the stalker spun around her back, knocking an elbow into her head then kicking the cup from her hand as he balanced nimbly on the ball of his foot.

The teacup smashed on the stone and the young woman let out a distressed wail. She looked at the spilled tea and then at Shen Qingqiu and the stalker, her eyes smoldering with rage. “I may be done with the contest, but I’m not done with the two of you!” From her back, she took out a long spear.

Shen Qingqiu braced himself. He knew intimately that the most dangerous were those with nothing to lose.

From nowhere, a blinding light crackled followed by a defeaning boom. A fireball of electricity fell onto the metal tip of the spear. The woman screamed, and in the next moment, she fell to the floor, her hair and robes singed, smoke softly rising from her body.

Behind her appeared the furred demon, sparks of electricity crackling all over the length of his hairy body. “Hand me your cups. Or die,” he growled.

"Oh." The stalker turned to shoot Shen Qingqiu a wink. "How fun!"

Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes.

He didn't have anytime to retort as they both leapt to avoid a strike of lightning from the demon. Shen Qingqiu flipped in midair to avoid an arrow shot from somewhere close by. It seemed they'd drawn the attention of the last of the competitors.

"Don't lose yet, baobei," the stalker called. "I wasn't finished with you yet."

"Shut your mouth and concentrate," Shen Qingqiu spat back. He hated to admit it, but he couldn't help but hope this fool of a man didn't lose either. He would take great pleasure knocking that cup from his hands when the time came.

More contestants joined them on the parapet. The bloodbath in the courtyard below had ended and the survivors had taken to hunting on higher ground. Shen Qingqiu dodged punches, kicks, and projectiles with smooth, precise footwork as he steadily worked his way towards the edge. Tea splashed everywhere and the sound of breaking ceramic pierced his ears. He frowned as he was forced to bend backwards to avoid a kick, then spin away from a spike of lightning.

It was getting too crowded up here.

A cloud of butterflies drifted up the parapet, weaving themselves between the combatants.

The stalker drew a finger and let a lone butterfly alight on it. “So much competition. Like a butterfly seeking nectar, they must have been attracted to your beauty, baobei.”

Shen Qingqiu sucked in a breath. “Idiot! Don’t touch that butterf—”

The butterflies exploded into gleaming gold sparks starting at the end and rippling out towards that damn fool of a man. Shen Qingqiu reacted on instinct, his fan flashing out to take the brunt of the force. The paper sparked and burned as the stalker leapt back with another musical trill of laughter.

His smile softened when he met Shen Qingqiu's gaze, the deep red in his eyes glowing like embers.

"Ah bao—"

"I told you to shut up!" Shen Qingqiu cut him off. He formed a sword seal, Xiu Ya's brilliant white blade flashing out. He could feel the hum of it running through his meridians, purring in soft ebbs and flows of energy as it hovered in front of him, waiting for a command. Then it streaked out to take care of the last of their competition.

Dozens of contestants slumped to the floor like puppets cut from their strings, knocked out cold from the force of Xiu Ya’s blow. The floor was littered with shards of multicolored porcelain, the brick dark and wet with spilled tea.

Xiu Ya settled back in his free hand as Shen Qingqiu caught his breath, body humming with energy and satisfaction. Only the stalker remained as on obstacle to his goal.

Or so he thought.

When he whipped around, he was faced with not one but two stalkers, identical in every way.

The stalker to his right spoke. “My, my. A doppelgänger. What an unexpected development.”

“Baobei, you’d know me anywhere, wouldn't you?” the one on the left said. “Given our history together, you’d know who is the real thing.”

Shen Qingqiu cocked a brow. Really, to go through all the trouble of copying someone, he'd expected more of a challenge.

"Everyone knows that it is the first strike that subdues the enemy." Shen Qingqiu tightened his grip on Xiu Ya, the blade’s familiar energy singing through him. "You should have attacked while my back was turned."

The stalker on the right laughed and the one on the left frowned, but Shen Qingqiu wasted no time. He flashed forward, backed by a burst of qi. Xiu Ya sliced straight through porcelain, spilling tea across stone. Then Shen Qingqiu's foot sailed up to strike the doppelgänger on the left in the head. The doppelgänger’s illusion melted away; he spun backward and collapsed against the ground in a pile of robes.

The stalker took a step forward then held up his hand when the tip of Xiu Ya's blade leveled at his neck.

"Baobei, you should thank me! Your opponent made such an easy mistake. You know what they say about assumptions after all."

“Drop your cup,” Shen Qingqiu said slowly, voice low and menacing. "And I promise not to slice open your throat."

“Are you sure about that, baobei?” The stalker's easygoing smirk sparked something white hot in Shen Qingqiu’s belly. He gripped Xiu Ya tighter, willing himself to focus on the danger and not the handsome curves of the man's face.

“I will not repeat myself.” Shen Qingqiu pushed the blade closer, just enought to sting but not cut skin.

The stalker quirked a brow. “Look into your teacup.”

Was this some trap? If so, Shen Qingqiu wasn’t falling for it. “Don’t change the subject.” He pressed on the blade, but before it could pierce skin, the stalker disappeared in a blur, and in the next breath, was behind Shen Qingqiu, cradling the arm holding Shen Qingqiu’s teacup.

The hairs on the back of Shen Qingqiu’s neck prickled. He shot a glance at his teacup then froze. It was nearly empty, the sorry remains of his tea sloshing at the bottom of the cup. No matter how he looked at it, less than half remained.

Xiu Ya's tip dropped towards the ground as Shen Qingqiu stared in shock.

“Do you surrender?” The stalker crooned into his ear, his hand a burning warmth on Shen Qingqiu's skin.

The question stirred Shen Qingqiu out of his shock. He straightened his back and whipped around, Xiu Ya poised once more in an aggressive stance. “No.”

The stalker’s grin grew wider. Eyes aglow like smoldering embers. He alighted forward and Shen Qingqiu side stepped, then spun again as the stalker closed the distance. In a single breath, the man slipped through Shen Qingqiu’s defense as if he were smoke, held his own teacup aloft, and poured his tea into Shen Qingqiu’s cup.

"What—" Shen Qingqiu stopped so fast his feet skidded on the stone. He stared down at his cup then whipped his head up to stare at the man. "What are you doing? I don't want your pity."

He tried to lift his own cup to pour the tea back but the man caught his wrist in a tight grip. No matter what Shen Qingqiu did, he couldn't budge.

"Don't be angry, baobei," the stalker smiled. "Though that glare is really making me—"

"Don't finish that sentence." Shen Qingqiu's grip tightened on Xiu Ya. Even if the distance between them was too narrow to strike, he had more than one way to attack.

"Sorry, sorry," the stalker said. He let go and stepped back. "Ah, I had heard tales of Cang Qiong Mountain's legendary Xiu Ya sword, of his elegance and his skill, but I have to say I didn't expect such a peerless beauty. They should write songs about the way it feels to have that cold gaze leveled on you, as distant as the snow of a mountain peak."

Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes. "It seems you have me at a disadvantage."

"Ah, of course, apologies baobei," the stalker bowed his head and winked when he straighted. "I am called Tianlang-jun, though you could just call me Lang-jun if you wished."

“I am not calling you Lang-jun.” Ridiculous. That sounded like an endearment a wife would call her husband. He grumbled to himself as something familiar scratched at his thoughts. His brow creased, a realization beginning to surface. “Are you—”

Slow, sharp clapping broke his thoughts. The official emerged onto the parapet from a trapdoor. She was followed by the young man with scaly skin Shen Qingqiu had seen earlier.

“Congratulations, Junshang.” The official and the young man bowed low to the stalker. Then they turned to Shen Qingqiu and bowed equally low. “Congratulations, Noble Consort Shen.”

Shen Qingqiu stared at them. A cold weight dropped into his stomach as the realization hit. Tianlang-jun, demon emperor Tianlang-jun.

His stalker, the demon emperor smiled at him, eyes crinkling. The cringy lines of poetry, the fanciful flights of whimsy, the ease and—Shen Qingqiu begrudgingly admitted—the elegance in which he carried himself—he shouldn’t have been surprised. Tianlang-jun was exactly as the rumors had said. He couldn't think of a thing to say, so, as he'd done since he first met this infuriating man, he turned on his heel and started towards the edge of the parapet.

"Noble Consort Shen!" The official called.

And Tianlang-jun, demon emperor Tianlang-jun, echoed her, yelling, "Baobei, wait!"

But Shen Qingqiu refused to listen to any such nonsense. He readied his sword to make a quick getaway. But Tianlang-jun flashed in front of him, blocking his way.

"Baobei, don't you even want your prize for winning?" Tianlang-jun pouted.

"I told you not to call me that," Shen Qingqiu snapped. "And I didn't win, remember?"

“The rule states that the last contestant standing with the sufficient amount of tea will be declared the winner. Noble Consort Shen fulfils the requirement,” the official supplied.

“Only because he cheated,” Shen Qingqiu spat, casting the demon emperor a venomous glare.

“There is no rule against tea sharing,” the official said. “The fact that Junshang shared tea with you only serves to further seal Noble Consort Shen’s victory.”

“It is still cheating. And why do you keep calling me that?”

These demon with their bendable and convoluted rules were giving him a headache.

“The contest was simply a front. Junshang’s true purpose for holding it was to find a suitable bride,” the scaly young man said, his voice surprisingly calm and cool. It was the first time Shen Qingqiu had heard him speak.

Shen Qingqiu scowled. The young man blinked slowly, head cocking to the side like he couldn't understand why Shen Qingqiu was mad. He turned his glare back on the real culprit here.

"What does he mean 'bride'?" Shen Qingqiu pointed a finger at Tianlang-jun.

"Exactly what it sounds like bao—" Tianlang-jun cut off, clearing his throat. "I imagine a bride for humans is the same as it is for demons, Immortal Master Shen."

"I know what a bride is," Shen Qingqiu pinched the bridge of his nose. "I wanted to know why you think that you can just claim me as yours."

Tianlang-jun blinked. "But you won the contest after such a stunning show of skill. And you said yourself you had no other lovers. I can think of no one better suited than you. With your skill, your fierce determination, your resilience, who would make a better empress? Plus you even saved me, didn't you? How romantic! It's like out of a storybook!"

Shen Qingqiu wished he'd let the man be blown up by those butterflies. But Tianlang-jun was unfortunately right. There was no other. He had thought once a long time ago that Qi-ge might— But no. There had never been anyone interested enough to court him.

Until now.

Unbidden, something warm slid down his stomach like hot melted sugar. The thought that this infuriating man, this… this… Tianlang-jun somehow wanted him, had singled him out from thousands, had flirted with him in an elaborate dance every step of the way, it made his heart flutter. A demon emperor, wanting to marry a human cultivator? The very thought was too ridiculous to contemplate. For a brief moment, he had the crazed thought that this was all an elaborate dream.

Who would ever choose him like this? Let alone someone who could have likely chosen anyone he wished. It wasn't as if Tianlang-jun wasn't incredibly handsome, let alone being the demon emperor. No, when had Shen Qingqiu ever been able to rely on such things?

But… what if it was true? What if he could hope for a life totally different from anything he could ever dare dream of? When he'd been sitting at the well wasn't that exactly what he had wished for? Somewhere to belong.

“I do not remember consenting to being a Noble Consort,” he said, raising his chin. Tianlang-jun’s face sagged and he added, “For that to happen, first I expect an official and appropriate courting period. I'm a Peak Lord. You can't just come in and demand things as the whim strikes you.”

Tianlang-jun brightened. "Of course! I know all of the appropriate human customs. I've research them. Have you read Love Under the Waning Moon? There's a whole arc just for the courtship."

Shen Qingqiu stared. This man could not be serious.

"That's a trashy fiction novel."

"I wouldn't say it was trashy," Tianlang-jun grumbled. "It's quite fun. It has real artist merit."

Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes even as warmth stirred in his gut. This man was pathetic. But his whole life he'd always been the same. Liking men was already bad enough, he was truly cursed to like especially the most pathetic ones. At least, even if nothing came of this demon's fanciful plans, the rest of Shen Qingqiu's martial siblings would be struck speechless to see anyone courting Shen Qingqiu. That would be entertaining to witness.

“Well, then. My business here is concluded,” he sniffed, taking out Xiu Ya and preparing to mount it. “I expect you to send me my prize—the demon slaying bow—as soon as possible.”

“But Baobei, I can’t let you leave all alone. How can I allow my future Empress wander out there in the cruel wide world where it unsafe? What if some covetous villain tried to kidnap you? That's a tradition among demons you know,” Tianlang-jun said, as if Shen Qingqiu hadn’t just singlehandedly felled an entire troupe of contestants. Tianlang-jun snapped his fingers and two guards appeared at his sides. “Prepare the demon slaying bow. And the palanquin.”

Shen Qingqiu sighed, but the man was staring at him like a little puppy. He found it was just easier not to resist.

They descended to the courtyard, which had been cleared of defeated contestants. A gilded palanquin arrived, and Tianlang-jun held his hand out to help Shen Qingqiu inside.

“I would like to personally escort Immortal Master Shen and talk directly to the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect Leader for the courtship negotiations," he said.

Shen Qingqiu thought again of arguing. Then he thought of the way Yue Qingyuan's smile would tighten when he saw Tianlang-jun. Warmth stirred in his gut; he supposed it would be worth the annoyance of giving into Tianlang-jun's whim. He let the man help him onto palanquin. The demon-slaying bow rested on a chair as requested. He sat and held it between his hands, inspecting it.

Tianlang-jun boarded as well and tried to sit beside him, but Shen Qingqiu leveled him with such an icy glare that Tianlang-jun froze.

"It's improper for you to sit next to me like that. Go over there." He pointed to the other side of the Palanquin.

"Baobei—"

"Go," Shen Qingqiu said. "Or do you want me to fly back on my own?"

Tianlang-jun conceded with a pout but immediately went back to smiling his infuriating smile. Well, if Tianlang-jun tried anything at all during the journey, Shen Qingqiu had no qualms of using the demon-slaying bow against him.

Frustratingly, Tianlang-jun was the perfect gentleman the entire time, keeping his hands to himself and refraining from most overly flirtatious remarks. He did spend his time trying to recite poetry, and then when Shen Qingqiu said he was going to meditate to drown him out, whipped out a Pipa from his qiankun pouch.

And as if the gods truly were against Shen Qingqiu, Tianlang-jun was a good musician. Shen Qingqiu couldn't help the way his heart fluttered and warmth flooded his gut at the sight of the man's clever fingers flying over the strings. He really did sit and meditate after that purely out of self preservation.

When they finally arrived at Cang Qiong Mountain, they of course set off every demon detecting alarm. Liu Qingge was just leaping from his sword when Shen Qingqiu stepped out of the palanquin.

He thrust the bow into the brute's arms.

"Here. Take your bow and don't waste my time making stupid bets again.”

Tianlang-jun wrapped a possessive arm around Shen Qingqiu’s waist and said, “Who is this, baobei?”

“Liu Qingge, Peak Brute of Bai Zhan,” Shen Qingqiu replied. He only allowed the touch because he enjoyed seeing the his fool of a shidi reduced to an inert and speechless statue for once, his mouth hanging agape as he took in Tianlang-jun’s demon emperor regalia complete with a mian on his head.

Yue Qingyuan joined them a few moments later, having clearly rushed down the mountain at the sound of the alarms. His smile twitched when he saw them.

“Shen-shidi, welcome back. Is this… gentleman a guest of yours?”

"I thought you had no suitors," Tianlang-jun huffed as he looked Yue Qingyuan over with a pout.

Shen Qingqiu stared directly back at Yue Qingyuan as he spoke.

"I do not."

Yue Qingyuan's mouth wobbled but he straightened it into his regular diplomatic smile.

"Well of course Shen-shidi may bring whoever he wishes with him. This shixiong only hopes that he will be able to welcome our guest properly."

Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes. He reached for his fan then realized it had burned to ash during the contest. He turned to Tianlang-jun and pointed a finger in his face.

"You owe me a new fan."

"Of course, of course," Tianlang-jun sang, beaming at Shen Qingqiu's attention. "Anything for you, Baobei. I'll get you a room of fans."

Liu Qingge's eyes darted between the two of them, his face turning red up to his ears.

"Who—" he stopped, a deep cut forming between his brows. "The demon detecting array went off."

"Ah, apologies, that would be me." Tianlang-jun did not look apologetic. He was smiling wide, his large hand running up and down Shen Qingqiu's arm idly. “Tianlang-jun greets the Bai Zhan War God and Sect Leader Yue.”

"Tianlang-jun," Yue Qingyuan repeated. "I did not expect to be hosting the demon emperor at our humble sect."

By this point, several other peak lords had arrived. Everyone stiffened, their hands flying to their sword hilts at Yue Qingyuan's words. Only Yue Qingyuan raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Welcome to Cang Qiong Mountain. May I know what business the demonic emperor has with us?”

Tianlang-jun cocked his head at Yue Qingyuan in acknowledgment. "I'm so happy I didn't have to wait for an audience. You're the exact person I wanted to see.” He grinned wide, a fang glinting in the light, and turned to face Shen Qingqiu. “My baobei here snuck into my realm like a thief in the night and stole my heart and soul. What man could resist his ice-cold beauty, his strength and irresistable charm? The moment I laid eyes on him, I resolved to not waste any time pursuing him. Better to catch this rare and elusive butterfly while I have the chance.”

Shocked whispers rippled through the crowd of onlookers. Shen Qingqiu rolled his eyes, heat creeping up his cheeks. He desperately wished he had his fan to hide behind. He had envisioned how smug he'd be to see his martial siblings recognize that he actually did have some value. At least to someone. But Tianlang-jun was too over the top! This whole thing was so ridiculous.

Tianlang-jun turned to Yue Qingyuan once again, adjusting his posture to his full height, the mian further adding to his imposing figure. “And so I have arrived to formally ask for Shen Qingqiu’s hand in marriage.”

What could Yue Qingyuan even do against the full force of Tianlang-jun's personality but sigh and invite him in to discuss the matter.

…

Negotiations were made, protests by the other peak lords were raised, and the courtship process extended to over a year, but at last an auspicious date was reached. Shen Qingqiu hadn’t expected a flighty man such as Tianlang-jun to stick out that long. But fight and negotiate and wheedle he did, until he whittled down the defenses of even his most vocal detractors.

Just the thought of it sent another burst of heat coursing through Shen Qingqiu’s gut. Who had ever actually spent this long around him and wanted to stay?

He had just set the box with his wedding robes on his table when he heard the now familiar sound of the talisman on his bedroom window being disintegrated with a burst of qi. Tianlang-jun, in fact, could have just knocked. He never did. Apparently sneaking in through someone's window was "more romantic."

Shen Qingqiu didn't turn around when he heard the man creep out from his bedroom.

"Don't you have better things to be doing? You are an emperor are you not?"

“Baobei, how could I sit around idling the hours way on my throne after hearing the terrible news?” He sounded genuinely distressed.

Shen Qingqiu whipped around, pulse leaping at the same time that dread sank heavy and cold in his stomach. “Did something happen?”

One dreadful scenario after the next flitted in his mind. Had the wedding been dissolved? Had Tianlang-jun’s demonic constituents raised objections? Did Cang Qiong Mountain Sect reject the alliance with the demon realm after all? Of course, he thought bitterly, he could never be allowed true happiness. Any glimmer of hope he had was quickly snatched away.

He was pulled from his spiraling thoughts as a soft and warm blanket was draped over him. A familiar, comforting scent of incense wafted from up from it. Tianlang-jun pulled him close, wrapping his arms around Shen Qingqiu over the blanket and hooking his chin over Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder.

“Baobei, is it true that you have trouble sleeping?”

Shen Qingqiu stiffened, his thoughts grinding to a halt. “Who told you that?”

“I visited the Warm Red Pavilion this morning to ask the ladies about their opinions for your wardrobe once you become empress. They gave me good advice, and then they lectured me for well nearly a shichen about how I was a sorry excuse of a suitor, not worthy to tread the ground my baobei walked on, and how I should step up and be a better husband. They told me of your real purpose for going there. Baobei, how long has it been since you've been unable to sleep on your peak?”

Shen Qingqiu flushed to the tips of his ears. He couldn't believe the jies told Tianlang-Jun that. Of all the embarrassing things to reveal. He didn't need anyone knowing about his weaknesses if they didn't have to.

"It's nothing," Shen Qingqiu said. "They are being needlessly dramatic. It is hardly an issue."

"Oh?" Tianlang-Jun, pressed his head against Shen Qingqiu's cheek. "So you sleep fine then?"

"I sleep fine," Shen Qingqiu repeated.

"Mmm," Tianlang-Jun hummed and Shen Qingqiu closed his eyes and prayed for patience. "I don't want to call my future wife and empress a liar…"

"Then don't," Shen Qingqiu snapped. He tried to wiggle out of Tianlang-Jun's grip to no avail.

"It's alright you know," Tianlang-Jun said. "This husband only wanted to find a solution for you."

"You aren't my husband last time I checked," Shen Qingqiu said. This man was so nosy. With someone who had so many other things to occupy his attention, he certainly knew how to focus in on something when he wanted to.

"Not yet," Tianlang-jun tilted his head to purr into Shen Qingqiu's ear. Shen Qingqiu repressed a not unpleasant shiver. "How about this then, Baobei. If you don't sleep well here on Cang Qiong Mountain, then run away with me and I'll find somewhere you do."

“I am not running away anywhere.” He cocked his brow. “Where did you get that idea anyway? Is this from another one of your books?”

“Ah but you see Baobei, in The Star-Crossed Lovers of Xi’an, when the girl couldn’t sleep a wink from worry for her sweetheart forcibly sent to war, the boy deserted the army and appeared at her window at night and then they eloped to—”

“Stop!” Shen Qingqiu placed a hand over Tianlang-jun’s. Once he started with his fictional tales, he could go and on. Better to nip it from the bud. “A peak lord and a demon emperor with a formal engagement are hardly the types who’d need an elopement!”

Under his palm, he could feel Tianlang-jun’s lips curve into a pout. The touch shouldn’t have sent butterflies fluttering in Shen Qingqiu’s chest. But flutter they did, every beat of their wings sending hot and cold shivers across his skin.

“Why not? Isn’t it so romantic? Won’t you change your mind, baobei?”

Shen Qingqiu shook his head. “No means no.”

“Well then, I’ll just have to make sure my baobei sleeps well, wherever his bed may be.” Without warning, he swept Shen Qingqiu into a bridal carry, blanket and all. Shen Qingqiu let out an undignified yelp.

“What are you doing?!” His heart thumped.

“Tucking my baobei to bed.” Tianlang-jun crossed the room and sat himself on Shen Qingqiu’s bed. He kicked off his boots and then leaned back against the headboard, cradling the bundled up Shen Qingqiu against his chest as if he were a babe.

"I do not need to be tucked into bed," Shen Qingqiu shot him a glare. A thought crossed his mind and his glare sharpened. "And I'm not fucking you either."

Tianlang-Jun gasped like he'd been deeply offended. Shen Qingqiu stared back, unimpressed.

"Baobei, I truly only wanted to help you sleep. Of course I'd never say no if you wanted to—" He winced at whatever look crossed Shen Qingqiu's face. "Ah, but that's for later. Just try and rest alright? If you cannot sleep with me here, I'll bring you to your lovely young ladies at the Warm Red Pavilion myself."

Shen Qingqiu narrowed his eyes. But what was he to do? When Tianlang-jun wanted something, he was as impossible to pry off as melted sugar stuck to your clothes. After a few moments he sighed and let himself sink back into Tianlang-jun's arms. He could admit that it was, maybe, at least a little, comfortable. And it had been several days since he'd been able to visit the jies. There was always just too much to do on the peak for him to get even a single night away. Tianlang-jun stroked a hand along Shen Qingqiu's loose hair, beginning to hum some slow melody.

Maybe Shen Qingqiu could just shut his eyes for a few moments. Just for a bit. And then he'd chase this fool of a man out of here like he should have to begin with.

Tianlang-Jun would almost certainly stop anyone from disturbing his sleep. So, just for a little while, he could allow it. He took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. A comforting sweet woody scent mingled with spice filled his lungs from the blanket. It was, he realized, the same incense used in the Warm Red Pavilion. But the spicy undertone… it was Tianlang-jun’s natural scent. He felt his pulse slow.

Tianlang-jun’s body heat radiated through the blanket. Surrounded by warmth and familiar scents, and a low melody humming against his ear, Shen Qingqiu’s eyes grew heavier and heavier. Before he knew it, he was drifting off.

…

The palanquin rocked and swayed as it took Shen Qingqiu to the demonic palace for his wedding ceremony. The thick silk veil over his face totally obscured his vision, and he could only see at most the tops of his shoes, red silk brocaded with gold thread. It should have felt worrying, claustrophobic. Yet, strangely, he felt a calm sort of elation.

He couldn't believe he was actually here, doing this. Getting married. That despite everything, Tianlang-jun still wanted him.

Of course, he'd done a lot to put the man off, to show him how unpleasant and unlikable he was. But somehow that had only seemed to entice Tianlang-jun more. Tianlang-jun had even managed to win over the jies at the Warm Red Pavilion, a true feat.

Then of course Shen Qingqiu had spent the last few months trying to fend off the sudden interest of both Liu Qingge (who kept showing up and dropping things on his doorstep like a feral cat) and Yue Qingyuan (who spent day after day sighing and asking Shen Qingqiu if he was "really sure.") It was infuriating and also, if he was honest, it made him feel a little warm at the attention, too.

Still, the day had arrived and here he was veiled and being transported to the demon realm palace.

The palanquin slowed to a stop. He heard the door swing open. Like a blind man, he felt his way around the door’s edge to orient himself and descend from the palanquin. And then a strong, familiar hand enveloped his, and led the way like a beacon in the darkness. It was grounding. Warmth spread through Shen Qingqiu’s hand where skin met skin. He and Tianlang-jun were silent as they walked to the palace doors, but the significance of the moment spoke louder than words. Shen Qingqiu trusted Tianlang-jun enough to cede control and let him lead the way. For all he knew, Tianlang-jun could be leading him to ruin. But the nerves he expected did not come.

Tianlang-jun slowed to a halt, and Shen Qingqiu stopped beside him. They must be before the stone steps leading to the elevated altar. There was a dizzying moment of disorientation as he was swept off his feet and carried in Tianlang-jun’s arms. A soft kiss was planted on his forehead over the veil, and then Tianlang-jun was ascending the stairs.

This was not exactly how he had pictured his wedding. On nights in the Qiu manor when he'd allowed himself to dream of such things, it had always been simple. Just Xiao Jiu and Qi-ge bowing together in some simple shack, drinking the only wine they'd have been able to afford.

But despite Tianlang-jun's repeated suggestions of eloping, Shen Qingqiu had ended up with the formal proceedings befitting an empress anyway. He wasn't even expected to leave Cang Qiong Mountain forever. Not that he would give up his position so easily.

Plus this was a demon wedding. And their customs, though similar, seemed just a little different.

When Tianlang-jun set him down, the bowing was the same. He lowered his head to the ground three times, even if he had no family to bow to. Tianlang-jun did the same beside him. But just when he expected an exchange of wine cups, Tianlang-jun slipped a hand under the veil, and pressed a something cool and soft against his lips. A piece of fruit? Shen Qingqiu opened his mouth and bit down, the tip of his tongue tasting the salt of Tianlang-jun’s retreating fingers before sweet juice burst upon his tongue. It was like a grape, juicy and sweet, but unlike any grape he had eaten before. It was gritty with many small seeds inside that could be chewed and swallowed. He felt a metal bowl pressed against his hand, and he blindly picked out another of the fruits and held it to where he approximated Tianlang-jun’s lips to be.

An electric thrill ran down his spine as Tianlang-jun bit into it, juice spilling down Shen Qingqiu’s fingers, only to be licked away by a warm tongue. He tried unsuccessfully to think of other places that tongue would be not long from now.

Behind him he heard the gathered cheers of Tianlang-jun's court, and presumably his own martial siblings. Then he was being pulled to his feet and scooped into Tianlang-jun's arms. The cheers softened as they departed the room, leaving the attendees to their own devices for a while.

They snaked their way through passages that Shen Qingqiu couldn't see at all before finally walking through a set of doors. Tianlang-jun placed him gently on his feet, then reached up to lift the veil from his head.

"There you are," he smiled, eyes crinkling.

Shen Qingqiu pursed his lips, eyes darting away. "Where else would I be."

Tianlang-jun took his hand and placed it right over his own heart. His eyes were soft and smoldering all at once as he said, “Here.”

Warmth rushed to Shen Qingqiu’s face. He wanted to roll his eyes but Tianlang-jun, his new husband, was so genuine that for once he couldn’t form a retort. He was saved from responding as Tianlang-jun swooped in to claim his lips. All higher thought flew from his head like birds bursting free from a net as the soft, warm tongue he’d been fantasizing about caressed the insides of his mouth. A needy sound escaped his lips but his thoughts had no more room for shame. He wanted this, wanted to drink from Tianlang-jun’s mouth and be consumed in turn, to taste that sweetness, imbibe it and make it his.

Tianlang-jun had clearly had a lover before if the way he expertly unwrapped Shen Qingqiu from his layers was anything to go by, or the way he worked out exactly where to place his hands to leave Shen Qingqiu gasping for breath. It wasn't as if Shen Qingqiu had thought he'd have been bad, but he'd figured a wedding night was a perfunctory thing people did and had planned to go along with it, if only to solidify their bond. If Tianlang-jun was going to worm his way into Shen Qingqiu's life, Shen Qingqiu wasn't about to let him drift back out again.

But Tianlang-jun had treated it not as a matter of course, but like something he'd been waiting for that he wanted to savor. He took his time as the hours wound down and the moon rose, to work out every new sound Shen Qingqiu never knew he could make.

They lay together afterwards, Shen Qingqiu tucked against Tianlang-jun's chest as he caught his breath, thoughts fuzzy and muscles loose. A thought drifted up to him and he couldn't hold back the snort.

"Baobei?" Tianlang-jun hummed.

"Nothing," Shen Qingqiu said, feeling a little too lazy to move and look up at his new husband. "I was only thinking you have a fool's luck. Who else would make a ridiculous contest to find a bride and somehow end up successful?"

Tianlang-jun laughed, a low rumble that reverberated against Shen Qingqiu’s cheek. He liked the sound of it.

“Baobei, I’ll let you in on a secret.”

Shen Qingqiu lifted his head to look up at Tianlang-jun, raising a quizzical brow. “Are you hiding something?”

Tianlang-jun tucked a stray lock of hair behind Shen Qingqiu’s ear. “Not exactly… But even before the contest started, I had already decided on my bride.”

“….”

“Baobei?”

Shen Qingqiu beat Tianlang-jun’s chest with his fist and let out a low groan of frustration. “Then why go through all that trouble?!”

“But Baobei, I knew you would win regardless. I swear I didn’t rig the contest itself.”

“That’s beside the point!”

Tianlang-jun ran a hand through his hair; despite himself, Shen Qingqiu's face burned, and he tucked his head back against Tianlang-jun’s chest. But not before mumbling, “Idiot.” Then, softer. “Lang-jun.”

Tianlang-jun laughed. “Hearing that name from my Baobei’s lips brings me so much joy. I am the luckiest man in all three realms.” Shen Qingqiu would never admit it, but he thought he might actually be the true luckiest man of all. The wish he'd made at that well had come true, hadn't it?

The room settled into a comfortable silence. Shen Qingqiu’s breathing slowed down. Before he finally slipped into slumber, Tianlang’s jun’s voice rumbled against his cheek.

“Victory is sweeter when it’s hard-won. And you, Baobei, are the sweetest prize of all.”