would've, could've, should've

by 无辜 (paid)

Summary:

No life is lost in the Lingxi Caves, only another created. Now, Shen Qingqiu has to deal with a baby he doesn’t want, and his infuriating omega Shidi.

He deals with all of this normally, of course.

Notes:

• Inspired by be good to me by pennydaniels

i haven't posted anything for a long time and im not sure if this is up to par but i hope everyone enjoys nontheless ^__^

Chapter 1: how it begins

 Shen Qingqiu enters the Ling Xi Caves and spends far too little time alone before the sharp piercing sound of metal digging into stone shatters through the tranquility of the caves. Without missing a beat, he leaps up, summoning Xiu Ya before rushing over to the source of the commotion. 

 

  Unsurprisingly, he finds Liu Qingge at the scene, Cheng Luan clutched tightly in his hand, despite the Ling Xi Caves being a spot for meditation, Shen Qingqiu expects nothing less from the notoriously belligerent War God. Surprisingly though, Liu Qingge is in the midst of a qi deviation, and what looks like to be a terrible one at that, given the deep marks carved into the walls.

 

  Shen Qingqiu doesn’t get the chance to think any further when the brute spots him and rushes towards him, blade in hand, shouting, “Shen Qingqiu!”

 

  “What are you—Get yourself together, Liu Qingge!” He snarls, lifting Xiu Ya to meet the blow head-on, pressing himself forward to push the other away. 

 

  Liu Qingge is ridiculously close now, and he can see that the other’s eyes are bloodshot and glaring, but strangely unfocused, his lips twisted into a frown. The Bai Zhan War God’s normally pristine white robes are flecked with red and dust, a rip on his sleeve gaping, exposing a large shallow gash. Worse of all, Shen Qingqiu can smell Liu Qingge’s scent, and now is forced to be aware of the heady scent of iron and something distinctly sweet undercutting the metal in the air. 

 

  Liu Qingge is in heat. 

 

  Everything is terrible. There’s a warmth creeping up his neck, the scent of an omega in heat forcing its way past his carefully curated choices of scent blockers and suppressants, and Shen Qingqiu can feel himself succumbing to his nature. He hates it. 

 

  He forces a blast of qi into Liu Qingge’s meridians, attempting to circulate it through the twisted network of pathways in his body, wrecked by the deviation. 

 

  This does not help at all. Instead, Liu Qingge leaps at him, pressing him down to the ground, there’s a low cracking sound when he hits the ground, the shattering of bone, and he doesn’t know if it’s him or Liu Qingge that made it.

 

  There’s blood now, streaming down Liu Qingge’s nose, dripping down onto his and Shen Qingqiu’s robes, dying the fabric a disgusting shade of red. He grabs onto Liu Qingge’s wrists and flips him over, and tries not to breathe, sending streams of qi into the other’s meridians. 

 

  Control is slipping from his fingers as he frantically tries to hold the far physically stronger Liu Qingge down while attempting to circulate qi through the other’s veins, trying desperately to fix the damage that isn’t getting better. 

 

  At this rate, they are both going to die, and Shen Qingqiu simply refuses to let this be how he ends, though there’s probably some sort of poetic justice in this, simply karma reminding him where he came from, and that he’ll end the same way he started, covered in filth. He is almost on the cusp of a deviation himself, even with the abundance of spiritual energy around them and he can no longer control his scent leaking out, cutting through the smell of iron and tangerines. 

 

  At this, Liu Qingge perks up and stops clawing at him, nails freeing themselves from his arms where they’ve torn rips into his outer robes. This set is ruined forever, Shen Qingqiu thinks almost bitterly and vows that if they get out of this alive, he’s extorting enough from Liu Qingge to buy another ten new robes, at least. 

 

  Now, the other is pawing at him, which is simultaneously better and the worst thing ever because Shen Qingqiu feels like hurling when he feels Liu Qingge nosing at his neck, lips brushing over his skin. 

 

  Naturally, this sends him into qi deviation, and his recently improved cultivation once again destroyed, for Liu Qingge, of all people. 

 

  This really must be karma, he thinks hazily as he feels his rut strike him almost instantly after, and he starts pressing his body to Liu Qingge’s, looking for any semblance of warmth or friction. Liu Qingge responds in kind, perhaps even more eagerly. 

 

  “Shen Qingqiu. Alpha,” Liu Qingge growls, his face flushed, before he slams his lips into Shen Qingqiu’s, his fingers wrapped around Shen Qingiu’s ruined hair, digging into his scalp. 

 

  Well, dual cultivation is our only hope now, he thinks hysterically, as his body betrays him, leaning into the clumsy kiss with equal fervour. The only thing he can do now is pray that somehow, by some miracle of god, their qi circulates between them enough that it does something.

 

  They roll around on the floor, limbs tangled and the only thing he can think of is how good Liu Qingge smells. It’s positively appalling. 

 

  “Slow,” is the extremely helpful remark Liu Qingge makes at his expense, and Shen Qingqiu is suddenly overcome with the urge to punch him in the face. 

 

  The Bai Zhan War God of all people would be able to take it. 

 

  But then he thinks that if his hands leave the other for even a second, he might genuinely die but if he doesn’t get his hands off Liu Qingge and Liu Qingge’s hands off him immediately he might also die. So instead, he pulls Liu Qingge down to him till they are nose to nose.

 

  He doesn’t want this, nor does Liu Qingge, and Liu Qingge doesn’t want this, he’s just in heat and having a qi deviation and once he recovers, if he recovers, he’s going to kill Shen Qingqiu. Well, that’s if he doesn’t get to it first himself. 

 

  “I’m sorry,” he manages to force out as Liu Qingge’s hands slip underneath his robs, ripping the gauzy fabric into shreds in his rush to remove the offending fabric off Shen Qingqiu’s body. Heat burns underneath his skin, his limbs itching to be freed from the confines of the cloth wrapping him, his hands scramble for purchase on Liu Qingge’s bloodied robes, pulling them apart.

 

  This is the only way. He tells himself that, over and over again as he presses his lips against Liu Qingge’s, instinctively relaxing at the touch of their lips together, then stiffening again, repeating the words, over and over again like a mantra. It’s the only thing keeping him conscious at this point. 

 

  He sends a stream of qi through his lips when Liu Qingge flips them over and tears off the rest of his robes, leaving him completely exposed. He has no time to be appropriately mortified before Liu Qingge leans down and sucks his entire cock into his mouth in one go. 

 

  The entire situation is almost comical, he thinks hazily, their scents so thick and mangled in the air that he can barely smell a thing. Liu Qingge is pretty, an indisputable fact, even to him, and he’s made all the more attractive through the hazy pink-tinted gaze of their combined heat and rut. 

 

  Liu Qingge is pretty, Liu Qingge is perfect, unspoiled, and untainted with his flawless (well, not so much anymore, he thinks bitterly) cultivation and his stupid noble family background and Liu Qingge is sucking his cock, lying in a pool of blood on the filthy floor of a cave. 

 

  “I’m sorry,” he says again, looking down at Liu Qingge, their eyes meeting at the sound of the uttered words. Liu Qingge glares at him in lieu of a response, sucking even more aggressively on the cock between his lips, running his tongue up and down the length.

 

  When he finally cums, spilling into Liu Qingge’s mouth, he leans down and pulls Liu Qingge up to him to meet his mouth. Things only escalate from there as he pulls Liu Qingge up and repeats, “I’m sorry,” as he reaches down Liu Qingge’s body searching for that spot. 

 

  Liu Qingge is panting beneath him, his face buried in Shen Qingqiu’s neck, his teeth digging into his shoulder. Shen Qingqiu is almost certain there is blood, yet he cannot feel the pain at all as his hands continue their journey downwards, pulling his cheeks open. 

 

  Liu Qingge lets out a pathetic whine and lifts his head with his teeth gleaming and before he’s even managed to process what has happened, Liu Qingge has bitten down onto his neck, right above his scent gland, marking him.

 

  In his rut-hazed mind, Shen Qingqiu keens, because he’s wanted this for so long, he’s wanted someone to be his and for him to be someone’s. He wants everything, everything with Liu Qingge, he wants to claim him as his, he wants so desperately and so keenly to show off Liu Qingge to the world as his omega, no one else’s. It is only thanks to the tiny silver of consciousness he’s barely hanging onto he manages to stop himself from doing it, biting down on the juncture between Liu Qingge’s neck and shoulders instead, tasting iron. 

 

  When his fingers finally dig into Liu Qingge’s hole, and Liu Qingge pulls him back up to meet his mouth, he closes his eyes and recalls not a thing after that. 

🀩

  When Shen Qingqiu opens his eyes, he’s lying on the ground, naked besides the strips of cloth covering nothing, and there’s dried blood everywhere. There’s a lump at his side, a lump that’s radiating an oddly pleasant heat and clinging tightly onto him, rendering the entirety of the left side of his body useless. The scent of sex and iron lingers in the air, it’s nauseating. He hates it.

 

  He turns around to see what—or rather, who the mysterious lump on his side is and comes face to face with Liu Qingge. 

 

  Yesterday’s events come crashing onto him immediately, and he yanks his arm away from the brute and pulls himself up. Where are his robes. 

 

  At the sight of Liu Qingge’s extremely naked body, he’s suddenly starkly aware of how exposed he is, vulnerable. Shen Qingqiu reaches a hand up to his neck and finds his scent blocker has been completely ripped off and his scent is leaking out all over the place, marking him as distinctly alpha. 

 

  It is his worst nightmare come alive.

 

  The only thing he can do is slip on his own ruined robes and attempt to cover up Liu Qingge’s body with his robes which are barely hanging together by threads, ripped apart in a hurry to get—

 

  No. He’s not thinking about it.

 

  Then, he comes to the horrifying realisation that he’s still in a rut, and Liu Qingge, if the way his now cloying sweet scent is practically drenching the air, is still in heat. 

 

  They need to get out of here immediately.

 

  Luckily, the dual cultivation had helped, if only barely but Shen Qingqiu had survived worse. So he pulled himself together, rearranged his hair and robes, tossed Liu Qingge over his shoulder, and made his way to Qian Cao Peak. 

 

  He doesn’t think about the implications of practically every disciple on Qian Cao Peak seeing him like this, and he really doesn’t think about the implications of everyone seeing him and Liu Qingge like this and drawing their own conclusions. He especially doesn’t think about what would happen to him after this, how his already abysmal reputation would fall even further, shattering everything he’s ever built. 

 

  Well, perhaps he deserves it this time. 

 

  The moment Shen Qingqiu steps down onto the Peak, Mu Qingfang is already there and rushing them to the Pavilion. Oh, they know, he thinks, in a daze as the still unconscious body of Liu Qingge is pulled out of his hand and he is forced down into a bed before being fed a billion different tonics. 

 

  The only words he manages to spit out before his vision turns black is a shaky, “Liu Qingge—How is he—“

🀩

  Shen Qingqiu can feel himself burning up, and he claws at his skin, digging his nails into skin till they leave bright red imprints, trying to get the source of the heat out. He rolls around groggily, as sweat drips down his neck uncomfortably and he kicks the heavy silk blanket off of him.  Then, he starts to open his eyes, his eyelids fluttering open, only to be met with a blindingly bright light assaulting his eyes. Instinctively, he flinches and shuts them again.

 

  He’s on Qian Cao Peak. He knows this, he tells himself, this is a safe place. He ignores the voice in his head telling him that nowhere is. 

 

  There’s a heady smell in the air, more than just the smell of sweat, and Shen Qingqiu is struck when he realises that it’s his scent, the very same one that leaks out when he removes the patch of cloth on his neck, embedded with a talisman to remove any and all lingering whispers of that scent. The mixture of distinct, sharp, heavy scent of pine-soot ink and although subtle, the saccharine, cloying smell of candy. Almost reminiscent of the famously sweet scents of omegas. 

 

  It’s repugnant and sickening.

 

  The bed he lies on top of is strangely tough, hardwood covered by a measly thin stuffed blanket, a pitiful imitation of a proper mattress. Of course, even in rut, even after he almost died, he cannot be offered even the simplest of luxuries. He expects this, naturally. 

 

  It doesn’t make it hurt any less though.

 

  There’s a small bottle of pills next to his bed, but there’s no label marking it but he knows from experience it’s the hundred-year refined ginseng pill, often given to cultivators after qi deviation to replenish their qi and correct their disrupted qi flow. He takes some in hand and swallows it down, ignoring how it goes down, acrid and bitter. 

 

  Then he comes to an important realisation, that there are no rut suppressants, and his mind is being slowly overtaken again by his own primitive nature. He wants, no, he needs someone beside him. He wants to dig his grimy, loathsome, undeserving hands into another, carving marks underneath skin, marking himself there. A proof of existence, proof of someone wanting him enough to not throw him away at the first better choice, someone who stays by his side even after he’s bared all his ugly, impossible sides.  Of course, it’s too much to ask, he expects nothing and subsequently receives nothing in return. 

 

  He feels vaguely feverish, as expected, and stalks out of the room to find Mu Qingfang for rut suppressants. The woodsy smell was muffled by the scent-erasing incense littered around the pavilion, but still tangible enough that Shen Qingqiu could trace it all the way to a room in the west wing. 

 

  He’s shaking at this point as if someone had dosed him with a terrible black market aphrodisiac (it wouldn’t be the first time). There’s sweat beading at his hairline, and his hair is unquestionably a mess, not that he can even bother with it at this point, Mu Qingfang has seen him in far worse states.

 

  He needs the suppressants, desperately. 

 

  He stumbles out the door and through the narrow hallways of the pavilion, disorientated, his eyes unfocused. He drags his fingers along the intricate carvings on the walls and the increasingly strong smell of smoked wood. 

 

  Somehow, his eyelids have drooped down far enough that when he stumbles into the room Mu Qingfang is in, he completely misses the extremely present presence of Liu Qingge in the room. The room they are in is practically drenched in his scent, but there’s a twinge of something new to the scent, something familiar.

 

  Then it hits him, that is his scent. It is his scent that has somehow melded into Liu Qingge’s, which is why he didn’t even process Liu Qingge’s frankly overwhelmingly potent scent. He has no idea what is going on and frankly, he wants nothing to do with it. So, instead, he turns his head to Mu Qingfang and in a voice barely more than a growl, forces out two  words, “Suppressants, now.”

 

  Mu Qingfang blinks, caught off guard, furrowing his eyes in visible confusion, and then seems to come back to his senses, plastering a cursory smile on his face, all within a second. It would be disarming if Shen Qingqiu wasn’t already used to this sort of treatment, and that strange demeanor of Mu Qingfang that no one else seems to notice.

 

  “Shen-shixiong, this one was just about to go looking for you,” Mu Qingfang says, the smile dropping off his face and tone serious. 

 

  “Why,” he grits out. He just wants his fucking suppressants. 

 

  “There’s something you must hear, both of you,” Mu Qingfang states and Shen Qinqiu follows his eyes to where he shoots a furtive glance over to where Liu Qingge is on the bed, and is suddenly reminded of the fact that the other is still here. Uncharacteristically silent as he is. 

 

  That’s also his fault, he thinks bitterly. It seems as if there is nothing his touch can’t ruin. The blood still clings onto his hands no matter how many times he tries again and again to watch it off.

 

  “Just say it already!” he all but screams, the heat crawling underneath his skin is almost unbearable now, and he just wants to leave. 

 

  “I would advise shixiong to calm down, for now, at least. Ruts often heighten emotions far beyond the norm and lest you want to put yourself through another qi deviation, this shidi advises you to calm down. Especially for this next part,” Mu Qingfang states, still ridiculously calm. 

 

  Then Liu Qingge speaks up from the bed, the first time he has uttered a word since the Lingxi Caves, and as if on instinct, their heads both snap towards him. 

 

  “Say it,” is all Liu Qingge says. It’s reticent in a way he never is, unnaturally subdued. There is no gruffness in his tone, an atypical feature for an omega, and for once, no air of unwavering certainty that has always grated on Shen Qingqiu’s nerves, that self-assuredness of his place in the world. 

 

  Now he simply sounds…lost. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu hates it.

 

  Everything is wrong.

 

  Then Mu Qingfang speaks and makes everything worse. 

 

  “It appears that after the incident in Lingxi Caves, Liu-shidi is with child,” Mu Qingfang states, and Shen Qingqiu drops to his knees. 

 

   “No,” he utters.

 

  Mu Qingfang sends him a truly piteous look and his world shatters again. The heat in his veins that had felt like they could burn through his skin suddenly disappears and is replaced by a bone-chilling cold. 

 

  How could he ever subject a child to that? To know that they were the by-product of their parent being violated in the most horrific way? The very same thing that had ruined him for good, properly.

 

  He needs to get himself together. So he pulls himself off where he’s slumped, leaning against the wall, and says, more to himself than to anyone else in the room, “There are ways to get rid of it.”

 

  “Yes, but—“

 

  “I want to keep it,” Liu Qingge interrupts, prompting Shen Qingqiu to shoot him an incredulous look. The combination of his heat and a qi deviation must have truly and utterly destroyed whatever scraps there was left of his brain because no matter how he thinks about it there is not one feasible explanation for why he wants to keep the—thing growing in his womb.

 

  “What—why? Just get rid of it, that was a mistake, it is a mistake, this entire situation is a mistake,” he spits, as the dread fully sets in, and he’s tempted to storm out of the room and burrow himself back underneath the covers. 

Safe. 

 

  Well, the illusion of safety is the most he can afford anyway. 

 

  “No.” Liu Qingge insists, helpfully. 

 

  “Why,” Shen Qingqiu hisses, his eyes narrowing onto slits, he doesn’t get it, he simply cannot possibly even begin to imagine the thoughts going through Liu Qingge’s mind right now, that is, if there are any. Shen Qingqiu is beginning to doubt if there are any, truly, in that head of his, no matter how beautiful it is on the outside.

 

  “—“ Liu Qingge starts and then stops, shooting a furtive glance towards Mu Qingfang still at the side, staring at the wall blankly, seemingly trying his level best to pretend he’s not in the room right now. 

 

  “Out,” he snarls, jabbing a finger in Mu Qingfang’s general direction, and more than grateful for the excuse, Mu Qingfang slips out of the door. Thankfully, he shuts the door behind him.

 

  As the steps behind him recede into nothing but barely audible thumps, Shen Qingqiu turns back to Liu Qingge, and states simply, “Let’s talk, now and you can explain why you want to keep the th—“

 

  “Don’t call them that,” Liu Qingge snaps, “It’s my child now, our child.” There’s a tone of finality in his voice. And it is at this moment it hits him again, staring into Liu Qingge’s eyes, how irrevocably and absolutely he has messed up.

 

  “I don’t understand,” he says, and even to himself he sounds lost, and he is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to leave. To where, he doesn’t know but at this moment, any other place in the world could have been better than this room, anywhere but here. 

 

  “I don’t either,” Liu Qingge says in response, looking down into his lap. Suddenly, Shen Qingqiu is struck with the unprecedented wish that Liu Qingge could be more verbose, give him something to work with, anything. An insult, an accusation of him being a lecher, the words that had become the most common between them were all of a sudden seemingly lost to the other and Shen Qingqiu hates it. Yet, there’s nothing he can do about it. 

 

  They are never going to be the same ever again. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu takes the silent dismissal for what it is and leaves. 

  Shen Qingqiu walks out of the Qian Cao Pavilion for the first time in a week, breathing in air not clouded with pheromones and sweat for the first time in what feels like forever. His rut has finally ended and the burst of yang energy balancing out his naturally yin-leaning constitution bolstered his cultivation and has healed much of his wounds almost instantly. 

 

  Over the past few days, somehow in between spurts of delirium and intense waves of lust, he had found the time to meditate and sort out his thoughts. Mu Qingfang had resolutely refused him suppressants no matter how much he had practically begged, on the basis of his already fragile mental state and extremely high risk of another qi deviation if he did not go through his rut naturally or something of the like. Mu Qingfang is currently near the top of his most hated peak lords, only below Yue Qingyuan, a truly impressive feat. 

 

  Typically, his rut wouldn’t be much of an issue as he hasn’t had a proper rut in years, body and cultivation ruined by a combination of suppressants and whatever Wu Yanzi had done to him back then, but this time was different. 

 

  Evidently, whatever he had done with Liu Qingge had unlocked some primal, animalistic part of him that he long thought to be abandoned. It’s terrifying in the incomprehensible lack of control over his basest instinct. 

 

  Here’s the thing, Shen Qingqiu is a creature of habit, he knows his wants and his needs and wants nothing else beyond that. He does not like the rapidly loosening grip of control he has on his life, and the unquestionably significant changes it’s going to bring. He does not like that he’s become the very thing that has made him into who he is today, and he can see now, the monster that has always been lying underneath his skin leaking through the cracks in his facade. 

 

  It’s decades' worth of work being destroyed within days. 

 

  If he wasn’t already ruined before, he certainly is now.

🀩

  At the age of twelve, Qiu Jianluo held an incomprehensible amount of influence in his naive mind. Shen Jiu had known nothing outside of the streets of this small town and the walls of this estate for a long, long time. Perhaps in reality it had been nothing truly more than a few years, but that, to a child, was a lifetime. 

 

  Qiu Jianluo was the kind of man that people avoided on the streets, the kind of man even the street kids avoided for fear they would be killed if got caught stealing from, or even worse, killed simply because the man just hadn’t liked the look of them. He had the sort of money Shen Jiu had dreamed of, enough to buy himself far more than a few comfortable sets of robs and enough food to be full for the next three generations over. 

 

  And it was Qiu Jianluo who had smiled at his sister that day, unassumingly, and said, “Haitang, I’ll need to borrow A-Jiu for a while later.”

 

  “Why?” Qiu Haitang had questioned back, her head tilting. She wrapped a small hand around Shen Jiu’s who had his eyes fixated on a spot on the floor, praying. The gesture offered him some semblance of comfort, her clammy hands hot against his freezing skin as he wondered what Qiu Jianluo would do to him today. 

 

  Qiu Jianluo tilted his head in the opposite direction to his sisters, a mockery of naivety and replied, “Ah, well, your gege just has something to talk to him about today. I’m planning on letting him have his own proper private lessons soon.”

 

  The words had chilled Shen Jiu to his core. 

 

  He knew exactly what those words meant. 

 

  ‘Private lessons’, what a fucking joke. 

 

  It was simply nothing more than an excuse to take Shen Jiu away from Qiu Haitang’s side, possibly the only place he was safe in this godforsaken household. Qiu Jianluo’s idea of lessons, his idea of what he deemed a ‘proper education’ to Shen Jiu was certainly nothing above forcing him to kneel for hours on end in the name of teaching him patience and discipline and kicking him whenever he even twitched. But Shen Jiu counted it fortunate if that was all his punishment amounted to, because sometimes, punishments were much, much worse. 

 

  He hated this, he wanted out, he wanted to claw at Qiu Jianluo’s eyes and scratch at that smug face till every inch of the human skin had fallen off revealing nothing but the rot underneath. Instead, he said nothing and continued keeping his head down demurely in an appropriate display of submission. 

 

  “Oh, A-Jiu, did you hear that! Gege thinks you are good enough for your own lessons now!” Qiu Haitang exclaimed excitedly, pulling on Shen Jiu’s sleeve. Then, she paused, a revelation seeming to have hit her at that very moment, and turned back around to Qiu Jianluo and said, “But, gege, if A-Jiu has private lessons, that means he won’t be sitting in for my classes with me anymore. Classes are so boring without A-Jiu around.”

 

  Shen Jiu winces from where his gaze is still fixated securely on the ground, his teeth grinding as he prays that Qiu Jianluo wouldn’t take this particular statement to heart. 

 

  Naturally, Qiu Jianluo narrows in on the last part of what Qiu Haitang had said, “Oh? Our Haitang has become so taken by our A-Jiu? She can’t even spare a few hours without him?” 

 

  There’s a certain tone, an almost mocking one, hidden behind the words, though Qiu Jianluo plays it off as a teasing joke, Shen Jiu is certain this is very much not a joke to him. 

 

  “Ge—” Qiu Haitang starts off, but her whine is cut off almost immediately by Qiu Jianluo. 

 

  “Haitang, A-Jiu needs to learn different things from you, things more benefitting of his future role in our household. One day, you will be the lady of the manor, and he will have to be able to support you in anything you wish to do. Your gege can’t be with you all the time, you know, I’ll only get busier. Time is of the essence and I’m certain that we both want what's best for our A-Jiu, don’t we, Haitang?” Qiu Jianluo says, his voice soothing though Shen Jiu is certain he’s not imagining the hard edge of his voice. 

 

  Predictably, Qiu Haitang falls silent and seems to contemplate his words before seeming to come to a decision, and, again, predictably, says, “Of course, gege is right. A-Jiu, don’t you agree?”

 

  At his cue, Shen Jiu lifts his head for a brief second and utters, “Yes, this lowly one is grateful for the young master’s consideration,” before kowtowing. 

 

  He catches a glimpse of Qiu Jianluo’s face then, a flash of sharp, sharp teeth, and lowers his head back down to the floor. 

🀩

  The first thing on Shen Qingqiu’s agenda is finding Liu Qingge, which is surprisingly easy as the other makes his way out of the Qian Cao Pavillion bare minutes after him. Liu Qingge’s scent is conspicuously different, and there’s something there that wasn’t before and Shen Qingqu shudders to attribute it to pregnancy.

 

  He takes a step in Liu Qingge’s direction and calls out, “Liu-shidi!”

 

  Liu Qingge’s head snaps towards him almost immediately, and he stills. He blinks at Shen Qingqiu and snaps, “What.”

 

  “We need to talk,” he says, and it’s true, they need to talk, desperately so. There’s a million things he wants to say to Liu Qingge right now, about everything, he wants to scream at the other, he wants the other to scream at him. He takes in a deep breath and focuses his line of sight on the patch of bamboo behind Liu Qingge before continuing, “We need to talk. Preferably, somewhere private.”

 

  The implication, naturally, was that this ‘somewhere’ was anywhere but Qian Cao Peak, out in the open with a throng of nosy disciples already gathering around the area. They weren’t subtle about it either, those annoying little brats. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu lamented the state of the future generations, truly, if their disciples had such little respect for other peak lords that they were so blatantly attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation. Clearly, no one had the thought to teach these miscreants any semblance of subtlety. 

 

  Of course, the implication is so evident that even Liu Qingge manages to catch it. “Bai Zhan, my place,” he suggests, and immediately after, he pulls out Cheng Luan and flies off towards the direction of his peak without waiting for a reply. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu scoffs, hops onto Xiu Ya, and follows Liu Qingge towards Bai Zhan Peak. 

 

  When they land on Bai Zhan Peak, Shen Qingqiu notes how sparse the place is, practically unchanged from the glimpses he had of it as a disciple. Then, he looks at Liu Qingge’s … place on Bai Zhan, because the hut in front of them is so pathetically small and sparse looking Shen Qingqiu doesn’t even want to deign upon it the title of a ‘house’. 

 

  A small part of him thinks I could give him better than that, my omega deserves better. 

 

  He squashes that part of him down. 

 

  He also squashes down the part of him that feels tempted to criticise the state of the house, instead settling on a simple, “Well, this master thanks Liu-shidi for his invitation, despite the fact your estate seems rather unused to visitors.” 

 

  Liu Qingge merely grunts in reply. The other pulls lead him into the hut, and when he kicks the door in, Shen Qingqiu gets a glimpse of the inside and is unsurprised that it is equally as undecorated as its exterior.

 

  He also notes how the entire place smells like Liu Qingge, though the scent is noticeably faded, likely from disuse. It is not unknown how the Bai Zhan War God spends as little time as possible on his peak, and possibly even less time in this humble abode. Yet, he can still clearly smell Liu Qingge’s scent far more clearly within these walls, his scent clinging onto furniture and bleeding into the walls, the sweet scent of fruit mixed with just a dash of mint.

 

  Liu Qingge plops down next to a small table and states, “Talk.”

 

  “Liu-shidi is pregnant,” Shen Qingqiu pauses after that statement for a moment. It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud and Liu Qingge raises an eyebrow at that, his face still deadpan. He soldiers on, struggling with the words, “What happened at the Ling Xi Caves was not supposed to happen, and this one would like to apologise for his actions back then.”

 

  Shen Qingqiu can’t bring himself to call the incident an ‘accident’ because it wasn’t, the facts of it were that he had saved Liu Qingge and had in so, also raped him. He cannot claim that he was totally unaware of his actions at the time because he was, in part, entirely conscious when he made the decision. He could rationalise it down to that he saw no viable solution to save Liu Qingge from his qi deviation in the heat of the moment but it did not take away from the act itself, which at its very core was a truly depraved, disgusting thing. 

 

  “My actions were inexcusable,” he grits out, and he digs his nails into his palms to force himself to look back up at Liu Qingge before continuing in what he hopes is an appropriately apologetic tone, “And I will take full responsibility for my actions and am willing to accept any punishments you wish to impose upon me. Given your decision to keep the child, I, Shen Qingqiu, swear to take responsibility for the child and provide for you and it sufficiently for the foreseeable future.”

 

  Shen Qingqiu wonders if he has said everything that needs to be said. He had planned this out very carefully, in the flashes of coherent thought he had during his rut when he had time to process everything that had happened to the best of his ability. Sometime during that time, he had reached the conclusion that Liu Qingge was well within his rights to keep the child even though Shen Qingqiu for the life of him, could not comprehend why. He had also reached the conclusion and partially made peace with the fact he would have to take responsibility for the child, as a parent.

 

  Well, he had only partially made peace with it, because the truth of the matter is that he had never wanted a child. For many, many reasons, but namely because of the simple fact that he wasn’t fit to be a parent. 

 

  Granted, he had never wanted a mate either and had sort of assumed that those two things came together, a child and a mate. Even in the worst-case scenario, he had assumed that if he had a child, he would have a mate, someone who had willingly bonded themselves to him and would shoulder the burden of taking care of the life they both wanted to bring into the world. 

 

  Well, now Shen Qingqiu has no mate and an unexpected child on the way, which bodes well for his future possibilities. 

 

  Nevertheless, if Liu Qingge wants to keep the child, he has to accept it because he’s not in a position to do anything about it. Again, he feels like he is thirteen again, staring into Liu Qingge’s impassive face, stuck in a gilded cage, hoping fervently that he hasn’t once again said the wrong thing. 

 

  There’s no way out of this situation and it’s not even the worst thing he’s been subjected to but at the moment it feels like nothing could be more horrible. Perhaps he’s gotten soft after spending so much time in Cang Qiong, in his comfortable peak lord position and cushy lifestyle and enough power that he rarely has to really do anything he doesn’t want ever again. He’s gotten complacent. 

 

  Of course, Liu Qingge shatters his thoughts, simply uttering a singular word, “Good.”

 

  He blinks slowly, lifting his fan up to his face to hide the scowl that overcomes his lips. 

 

  Liu Qingge will always be Liu Qingge.

 

  “If that is all Liu-shidi has to say, this master would like to go over some plans, regarding the next few months as we navigate this situation,” Shen Qingqiu starts off and then continues on to explain, in excruciating detail exactly what he will prepare and the arrangements and what their respective duties would be. 

 

  “Furthermore, we’ll need to consult Mu Qingfang on what exactly an omega needs during pregnancy and prepare appropriately from there. If Liu-shidi needs anything else, let me know. This master will do my utmost to obtain it for you,” Shen Qingqiu ends off stiffly, his skin itching with the need to get out of here already. 

 

  The alpha in him hisses in distaste and anger at the thought of leaving his omega. 

 

  It further solidifies his need to get out of here. 

 

  “Fine,” is the oh-so-helpful remark Liu Qingge has, as if he isn’t the one quite literally carrying the goddamn thing. His scent gives nothing away, perhaps because the entire place is drenched in it.

 

  Shen Qingqiu stands up abruptly, and manages to force out a, “I will send you further details from Mu Qingfang later,” and promptly makes his escape out the door and out of the peak. 

🀤

  The moment he reaches the safety of the bamboo hut he collapses onto the floor, throwing up warding tailmans around the vicinity of the bamboo forest because no one, absolutely no one is going to see him like this. For a moment he wonders what the gossipmongers of Cang Qiong Peak are already saying about him, that this was to be expected from the lecher who goes down the mountain so often to visit brothels, of course, he has probably done something like this before. 

 

  There’s a vase on the shelf against the wall, just slightly out of view, given by Yue Qingyuan of all people. He could never bear to give it away or even throw it away because even he can admit the vase is beautiful, crafted from the grounded-down corpse of a Silver Moon Long-Tailed Panther whose bones are infamous for both having a luster that never dulls and a key ingredient in several pills useful for improving one’s cultivation. But Yue Qingyuan almost never gives him gifts that are useful, even as he watches Shen Qingqiu’s qi deviations from afar, and when he does, it always ends up causing more harm than good anyways. 

 

  Like the time he had given Shen Qingqiu a sword tassel, choked full of protective charms, but in black and gold, the colours of Qiong Ding. The gift was so utterly presumptuous and had fueled sect gossip for months, everyone wondering if they were secretly together, or even more scandalously, that Yue Qingyuan was wooing him and failing. Not because of any failure on Yue Qingyuan’s part, certainly, as the lauded head disciple of Qiong Ding Peak but because of Shen Qingqiu’s inherent frigidity. When he had heard that rumor he had nearly burst out laughing as just the week before they had been calling him a pervert with an insatiable appetite for carnal pleasures. 

 

  His modicum of peace is broken just less than an hour later as the talisman go off. He feels the intrusion of people, multiple people, into the bamboo forest. Apparently, he can’t even have his own pity party in peace.

 

  Fine, fine, he thinks as he pulls himself off the floor and straightens his robes. 

 

  It’s probably Ming Fan coming to him asking about this and that again, but he rather not risk the chance of anyone seeing him like that. 

 

  The unsuspecting intruders are easy enough to find, the talisman tugging him forward in the right direction.

 

  When Shen Qingqiu finally reaches the secluded bamboo grove at the edge of the forest, he doesn’t know what he was expecting exactly but it certainly wasn’t…this. 

 

  A group of disciples surround a figure crouching on the ground, most notable among them is Ming Fan. Hasn’t he taught the boy better? To do something like this so obviously in broad daylight and in his terrority too, Ming Fan is practically begging to be found out. 

 

  That had always been the boy’s issue, Shen Qingqiu muses to himself, too overconfident, prone to recklessness and fits of petty jealousy. 

 

  The other boys around Ming Fan aren’t much better, rich young masters who seem more like bumbling fools even on their best days. It grates on him most days, that he has to teach this lot of ingrates who have had every opportunity handed to them on a silver platter yet they proved time and time again to be hopelessly incompetent.

 

  If Ming Fan is bullying, no, disciplining one of his shidi, in such an unsightly manner unfit for his status as the head disciple of Qing Jing Peak, he should at the very least keep it out of his Shizun’s sight. 

 

  Children. 

 

  “Shidi, why didn’t you complete your chores today, hm?” One of the boys asks, his eyebrows comically high on his face.

 

  “This is why you’ll never ever be a proper cultivator. You clearly can’t even perform the most basic of tasks. Don’t you know that endurance is the foundation of all martial arts?” 

 

  “But I finished them, really!” A small voice speaks up, presumably from the child kneeling on the ground.

 

  “But why didn’t we see the twenty bundles of wood we specifically requested from you in the morning in the woodshed?” Another questions, mockingly, his lips curled up into a sneer, punctuating the sentence with a kick to the crouching figure.

 

  “Shidi, we are only looking out for you, if you don’t start from the basics, it could be disastrous for you in the future?” Ming Fan coos, and internally Shen Qingqiu nods in approval, he sounds just enough like a caring shixiong that even if anyone stumbles upon this scene he can claim good intent. The boy isn’t totally hopeless, if he was, he wouldn’t be head disciple in the first place.

 

  “This lowly one apologises to his shixiongs but I really did put the wood in the woodshed!” And it is at this moment, that Shen Qingqiu manages to catch a glimpse of the boy’s face and he recoils almost immediately. 

 

  It’s Luo Binghe. Of course, it is. 

 

  That infernal child, always wanting more even when he has so much. So much more than Shen Qingqiu had ever had. 

 

  He has half the mind to just walk away and leave Ming Fan to his little hazing rituals. 

 

  Then the boy turns and meets his eyes straight on, even through the thick cluster of bamboo that he’s hiding behind, his eyes watery with tears. 

 

  Please, the gaze seems to say, as it always does. It sickens him to his core. 

 

  His hand itches for a whip, and he is suddenly overwhelmed with the absurd urge to join in with the bullying. 

 

  Is this who he’s become? Maybe Qiu Jianluo was right, and maybe Wu Yanzi was right, he did have the makings of a monster. He had grown into the image of the very men who had made him into this disgusting thing he is today, with an equal capacity for violence. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu does not believe in providence nor does he believe in predisposition, but the facts are undeniable, he’s exactly like every other alpha. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu has never liked alphas. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu is an alpha and he has a child on the way, he has an omega and he has a family and he has a mate—

 

  Something in him breaks. 

 

  He walks up to the groups of disciples—boys, who suddenly seem so very young, still unpresented and asks, feeling very much not like himself, “What is going on here? Does anyone care to enlighten this old master?”

 

  He watches distantly as the disciples fall over themselves to prostrate themselves in front of him, loudly proclaiming a litany of various reasons, most excuses, all lies.

 

  There are many gazes on him, but one in particular digs into his skin, and he turns to meet Luo Binghe’s large eyes. The boy always had particularly expressive eyes, he thinks to himself, a bad thing, with how visibly every emotion flickers through them for the world to see. 

  

  “Hm,” he hums as he lifts his fan, “What does Disciple Luo Binghe have to say about this incident?” 

 

  At the sound of his name being called, Luo Binghe looks up, hesitating for a moment before kowtowing and answering, “This lowly one was instructed by his shixiongs to place twenty bundles of wood by wu-shi and this disciple did exactly as instructed but—but half the bundles had disappeared. This lowly one apoologises for his incompetence in ensuring that the wood remained in the woodshed but he did genuinely complete the task set out for him!” 

 

  The entire spiel is said in one breath, and he tilts his head consideringly. 

 

  “Well,” he starts before shooting a look at Ming Fan’s group of cronies, taking in the indignant looks on their faces, before continuing, “Are there any objections to this version of events?” 

 

  A few of the boys open their mouths as if to interject and object but quickly shut their mouths just as quickly at Shen Qingqiu’s sharp look. Then, he raises his eyebrows just barely at Ming Fan and points his fan in the boy’s direction, “If it was an honest mistake as claimed by Disciple Luo Binghe, does it warrant the punishment I witnessed? Do not overstep your bounds, Disciple Ming Fan.”

 

  The absence of the proper title of ‘Head Disciple’ causes Ming Fan to flinch visibly, the threat of losing his position eliciting the only reaction Shen Qingqiu has seen thus far from him. 

 

  Good.

 

  “You,” he points at Luo Binghe, “Why are you not focusing on your studies considering how… utterly inadequate your current results are?” 

 

  He lets the question hang in the air and Luo Binghe’s face drains of colour from where his forehead has not moved from the ground. A surprising show of manners from the little beast. 

 

  “Acting like a stable boy instead of what you came to this master’s peak to do, and that is to cultivate,” he hisses, bringing his fan up to his face.

 

  Shen Qingqiu sniffs and turns on his heel, not wanting to spare another glance to Luo Binghe’s pathetically large eyes and says, “All of you, kneel at the punishment hall till you have properly repented and reflected on your actions today. Not you, little beast, you, follow me.”

 

  “Shizun—“ He hears one of the disciples call out, and rolls his eyes before turning back to shoot yet another pointed look at the child, who positively withers under his glare.

 

  “Remember your place,” he says, the unspoken implication of ‘Do not question me’ echoing through the forest.

🀤

  Shen Qingqiu sits at his table, still, as he stares down the practically shaking Luo Binghe. It occurs to him that the child is expecting to be whipped, and it also occurs to him that he has never given Luo Binghe any reason to not think so. 

 

  He really truly is the worst. 

 

  That isn’t the thing that bothers him the most though, because he’s survived far worse, and the little beast should be able to do that at the very least. 

 

  He briefly gives a thought to Liu Qingge and whatever the idiotic brute would do in this situation. Probably something supremely unfit for an omega of his caliber, like stepping directly in between him and Luo Binghe in an attempt to shield the damn thing.

 

  If he has to somehow, somehow, co-parent with Liu Qingge, he’s going to have to ensure that his child is growing up in the best environment possible.

 

  He owns Liu Qingge that much, at least. 

 

  There are many things he absolutely abhors about Luo Binghe but Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth and forces himself to say, “Disciple Luo Binghe, explain to this master why you are so behind your peers. Your consistently poor performance in the four arts and cultivation is shameful, as a disciple of Qing Jing Peak.”

 

  There’s a pause before he tacks on, his lips curling into a sneer, “Little beast, are you truly so incompetent?”

 

  “This disciple sincerely apologises to his shizun, he is stupid and unable to complete the tasks his shixiongs had assigned for him to build the necessary foundation before properly starting on the syllabus,” Luo Binghe says, throwing himself to the ground.

 

  “Ridiculous,” he scoffs, his eyes narrowing into slits, and says, almost conversationally, “Do you know that Qing Jing Peak has one of the largest libraries in the Jianghu?”

 

  Luo Binghe doesn’t move an inch, though Shen Qingqiu notes his nails digging into the floor. Insolent. 

 

  “What I mean is that there’s a plethora of resources available on this peak and you, naturally, have not made use of a single one,” he finishes, punctuating the sentence with a snap of his fan shut.  “Disciple Luo Binghe, while your shixiongs might have some fault in whatever petty little punishments they have inflicted on you, it is your fault that you are as you are now.”

 

  “This disciple apologises—” 

 

  “Apologies are worthless. Improve,” he hisses. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu does not discount the possibility of the boy being a physical cultivator rather than a spiritual one but still, the little beast is unable to even perform even the most basic of drills. 

 

  He turns back and selects a manual off the shelf and tosses it at the boy, “Take this manual instead of the one you are using currently. This master will check your progress personally in a month to check your progress.” 

 

  Luo Binghe’s mass of ridiculous curls has risen off the ground to look at Shen Qingqiu with starry eyes, bowing furiously as he exclaims, “This humble disciple thanks shizun for the manual!”

 

  Shen Qingqiu shuts his eyes and takes in a breath, “If you fail, this master will send you to Bai Zhan Peak which I’m certain would suit you perfectly. Now, get out.”

 

  Luo Binghe does. 

🀤

  When he sends a missive to Bai Zhan Peak requesting Liu Qingge’s presence, he does not expect the other to slam down in front of the bamboo hut at the crack of dawn the very next day. 

 

  The impact sends leaves into the air, fluttering like tears as they fall to the ground, and the Bai Zhan War God lands with a loud thud. 

 

  “Shen Qingqiu,” Liu Qingge says, as curt as ever, “What do you want.”

 

  “We need to inform your family about this if you plan to keep the…child. Though we will likely need to twist the story of its conception to make it a bit more palatable.” 

 

  Liu Qingge stares at him, considering for a brief moment before acquiescing with a nod. “I’ll send the letter,” before turning to leave. 

 

  The easy nature of Liu Qingge’s agreement feels unwarranted, most omegas would kill themselves before admitting a pregnancy out of wedlock. Forced abortions weren’t uncommon in noble circles and Shen Qingqiu had seen one too many omegas be scorned by high society for the exact situation Liu Qingge was in right now. 

 

  “Wait—we need to discuss the story first,” Shen Qingqiu demands.

 

  “Okay, then come up with one.”

 

  Again, the certainty behind Liu Qingge’s words shocks Shen Qingqiu. He would think it trust if he hadn’t known better, Liu Qingge believes in his ability to spin a tale, lying through his teeth, not him.

  

  “Fine. This master shall send another letter to Bai Zhan within the week, copy exactly as I say,” he says before turning on his heel and squeezing his eyes shut. 

 

  He’ll figure this out. He has too.

🀤

  Naturally, after he sends Liu Qingge the most perfectly crafted and plausible story he could think of to send to the Liu family, he gets a reply from Liu Qingge with the worst possible news.

 

  Liu Qingge is betrothed. 

 

  More importantly, he forgot he was betrothed till his mother had sent a letter back reminding him. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu wants to tear someone’s throat out, possibly Liu Qingge’s.

 

  It isn’t the most surprising thing, considering most noble omegas get betrothed after their first heat and wedded off soon after that. But these omegas were younger than Liu Qingge currently was, so Shen Qingqiu had simply operated under the assumption he didn’t have one. 

 

  That stupid oaf hadn’t even realised how grave of a situation they were in, and the almost impossibility of solving it. A betrothal between two noble families being broken off was practically unheard of, unless in dire circumstances. Technically, these were dire circumstances but also, Liu Qingge was an omega, an omega pregnant with another alpha’s child. If anyone were to bear the blame and burden of a broken betrothal it would be him, and Shen Qingqiu refused to allow that. 

 

  What could he do?

 

  His shizun would laugh if they saw him now, Cang Qiong’s head strategist, foiled by a single idiotic man. 

 

  Expect the unexpected, are the words he had carved into his soul a long time ago, but even preparing for the worst would have never prepared him for this announcement. 

 

  He’s made a promise to Liu Qingge, and he plans to keep it. 

 

  Every mistake is costly, especially those driven by base instincts, and clearly, Shen Qingqiu has not repented enough for his sins because what the fuck is going on right now? Shen Qingqiu thinks this to himself as he paces about the bamboo hut, fingers tearing into his hair. 

 

  What can he do? What should he do? He needs to figure out how he can break the engagement between two families he has no power over, for an unborn child whose life could be taken away as easily as it came. 

 

  He has no claim over Liu Qingge, and his child in Liu Qingge’s womb means nothing if his family doesn’t approve of him, especially over the alpha handpicked for him.

 

  Therein lies the heart of the problem, really, because Liu Qingge’s family would never and should never approve of him if they knew what was good for them and they were equally unlikely to considering Liu Qingge has likely relayed his opinion of Shen Qingqiu as the scum of the earth more than once. 

 

  Fuck it, fuck everything. If Liu Qingge says the child is theirs and he wants to keep it, Shen Qingqiu will do everything in his power to make it come true. 

 

  All this brings Shen Qingqiu to one conclusion and one conclusion only, and that is that he needs to claim Liu Qingge. 

 

    But first, he has to address the other problem and meet up with the alpha whom Liu Qingge is betrothed to. It suddenly occurs to Shen Qingqiu that he does not even know the damned alpha’s identity because Liu Qingge simply neglected to mention it, as if it was a completely irrelevant fact. 

 

  He writes a letter to Liu Qingge later, as politely as he can make it sound (which is not a lot) requesting the identity of the alpha. 

 

  He gets a three-character response, Sun Haoyun.

    The Sun family, of course. 

 

    Another cultivation family, famed for their merchant trade instead of their cultivation but held in equal regard to the Lius. A logical match but one that would be much harder to break considering few families would want to rid themselves of a connection to such a powerful family. This was not even taking into consideration the status of having the infamous Bai Zhan War God as their child’s omega. 

 

  There should be no reason for the Sun family to want to break off the engagement, instead of simply ordering Liu Qingge to abort the child. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu’s breath catches at this fact, though he knew, he knew this. An inexplicable feeling bubbles in his chest, and a wave of nausea hits him. 

 

  Nevertheless, there has to be a crack somewhere, an angle he can work out to get Liu Qingge out of the engagement. 

🀤

  The chink in the armour proves easier to find than Shen Qingqiu had expected after he had invited the first son of the Sun family to meet in person. A smarter cultivator would have rejected it, after all, it was uncommon for high-ranking sect members to interfere with cultivators outside of the sect but Shen Qingqiu certainly wasn’t complaining at the ease of his task. 

 

  The quicker he could get this done with, the better.

 

  He leaps off his sword and stores Xiu Ya into his pouch, before turning to take in the ostentatious facade of the tavern that Sun Haoyun had picked for their meeting. Expensive but tasteful, despite the fact the gold carvings lining the roof are a bit too much for Shen Qingqiu’s taste. 

 

  A rich young master, then. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu has met many. In fact, he has a peak full of them.

 

  Still though, it’s too early to put the other in a box, not everything is always as it seems. 

 

  “Sun Haoyun,” he says to the lady at the counter, noting how nicely she’s made up as he is led to a private room.

 

  To say the room is well furnished would be a gross understatement, with its ornate lacquered cabinets holding antiques worth at least a decade of a commoner’s salary. The porcelain vase next to the cabinet depicts in a vivid blue, the scene of a dragon flying above mountains and amongst cranes. Certainly the work of a master, and certainly an invaluable piece of art.

 

  “Peak Lord Shen, it’s a true honour to be given the privilege to meet you,” a voice says as he steps into the room. 

 

  He turns around to meet the gaze of a young man, who appears no more than twenty but could be far older depending on his cultivation. 

 

  “Young master Sun, I could say the same for you,” Shen Qingqiu replies with a flick of his wrist, bringing his fan over his nose. The smell of a foreign alpha assaults his senses and he’s once again thankful for the presence of his fan as he scrunches his nose in distaste.

 

  Sun Haoyun smiles, his teeth glinting, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. 

 

  “So to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit to? It’s not everyday a peak lord of the ever prestigious Cang Qiong sends a request for a meeting with a humble merchant like me,” Sun Haoyun says, still smiling. 

 

  “My fellow peak lord, Liu Qingge, I assume you are acquainted?” Shen Qingqiu inquires, lifting a tea cup to his mouth.

 

  “Oh, that omega? Well, we’re betrothed so I suppose you could say we are acquainted. But you should know that already, don’t you, Peak Lord Shen.”

 

  “What is your relationship with him?” Shen Qingqiu answers, neither an admission nor denial. 

 

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that instead?” Shen Haoyun says with a sardonic grin as he leans in, angling his body to be as physically close to Shen Qingqiu as possible. Shen Qingqiu has to do his utter most to not recoil from the sudden intrusion, merely raising an eyebrow. 

 

  “Hm, well, to answer your question, there’s not much of a relationship. The Bai Zhan War God is certainly infamous for his almost ascetic approach to life, his romantic life included. Liu Qingge is not much of a proper omega at all, and I wouldn’t be even bothered with him if it wasn’t for his face and family,” the alpha in front of him puncuates with a shrug. 

 

  Then, a look overcomes his face, “But the whole battle-obsessed thing isn’t the worst, because that means I’ll get to be his first, wouldn’t I?”

 

  The nonchalant response provokes an animalistic instinct in Shen Qingqiu, and he resists the urge to snap at the other. Focus, he tells himself. 

 

  “This master understands where you are coming from,” he enunciates, dragging his eyes to meet Sun Haoyun over the edge of his fan. 

 

  “He’s not exactly my usual type, nor do I think he is yours. Ah—I’ve heard, you’re more into the lascivious types, aren’t you?” Sun Haoyun muses to himself, but his eyes sharpen again, he says, “So why is the illustrious Qing Jing Peak Lord asking me about him?”

 

  Shen Qingqiu’s grip around his fan tightens, as he grits his teeth, though his voice remains calm and unperturbed, “Young Master Sun certainly has interesting preconceived notions of my character despite having never met me.” 

 

  It’s not the first time someone has made accusations of him being a lecher and it wouldn’t be the last. He’s more than used to it by now. 

 

  At least, he thinks he should be.

 

  “Don’t you have some about me too? It’s only natural, don’t take too much offence, Peak Lord Shen,” Sun Haoyun laughs, the sound grating on Shen Qingqiu’s ears.

 

  “This master is not taking offence, Young Master Sun, but rather, I’m curious about something else. What does your friend down in Qing Ce Village think about your engagement?”

 

  This gives Sun Haoyun pause, and a brief look of shock flits over his face before it settles back into something predatory, “You’ve done your research I see. This lowly one is honoured to be the subject of interest for such an esteemed cultivator such as yourself.”

 

  “Don’t think too much about it, Young Master Sun, this piece of information holds no more value that what you place upon it. After all, many alphas have multiple omegas,”  Shen Qingqiu says, staring straight at Sun Haoyun. 

 

  He’s got him. 

 

  The corner of Sun Haoyun’s mouth tilts upwards, through his voice has an edge to it,“Get to the point, Peak Lord Shen. What do you want?”

 

  “Hm, I’m merely stating an observation, Young Master Sun. You seem to prefer your omegas more licentious as well. Between the both of us I would say it’s more of an expression of camaraderie I’m extending out to you, no? As for my request…break off your engagement with Liu Qingge. It shouldn’t be too much of chore for you, considering how little you think of him.” Shen Qingqiu puncuates this statement with a tap of his fan on the table. 

 

  “I see,” Sun Haoyun murmurs in a tone that suggested to Shen Qingqiu that he did not truly ‘see’. 

 

  “For what reason would you do this, Peak Lord Shen? The tales of your rivalry with Liu Qingge are spread far and wide, what purpose do you have in breaking off his engagement? Humiliation, perhaps? An omega at his age being so…uncouth and rowdy and even unmarried is more than enough do you not think?” Sun Haoyun inquires, his nails tapping rhythmically on the hardwood table. 

 

  “Frankly, that is none of your concern, especially since you have made no move to fufil your marriage contract with Liu Qingge. From my understanding, you have not presented any proper betrothal gifts to the Liu Family yet, thus the contract remains susceptible to annulment.”

 

  Sun Haoyun stills, “I have sent betrothal gifts, many in fact.” The scent of spice around them grows sour, cloaking the room in a putrid odour.

 

  This, Shen Qingqiu does not dispute. He has done his own far share of research, and it is undeniable that most alphas would want to cement such a valuable contract with the Liu family and their first-born. It’s a no-brainer, and only an idiot would fail to carry out the proper customs and risk displeasing their betrothed’s family. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu nods, humming, “Indeed you have, but by the traditions of Cang Qiong Sect, when you are betrothed to a Peak Lord, it is customary to send betrothal gifts not just to the family but also to the omega in question. A sword to express intent to protect, a collar to express intent to possess and, naturally, jewellery to express intent to provide.”

 

  Shen Qingqiu isn’t wrong per se, but this is a generous interpretation of one of the many, many antiqued traditions that very few know about. 

 

  Nevertheless, the tome that describes this ‘rule’ is hidden in the Qing Jing Peak Library, and impossible for outsiders to get ahold of because of it’s wealth of information regarding the sect’s inner workings. Mating customs are certainly an…interesting choice of material to include in the book though.

  “That’s ridiculous, when we were engaged Liu Qingge was little more than a random disciple on Bai Zhan Peak, there is no reason for this custom to be applicable to us,” Sun Haoyun sneers, “So what if he’s a Peak Lord now? If he breaks off this engagement who is going to want him?”

 

  Shen Qingqiu brings his fan to his face, if only to hide his growing smirk. A simple mistake like betrothal gifts would certainly have not been enough reason to break the engagement but it’s merely another minor grievance to add to the ever increasing case he’s building up against the other alpha. 

 

  Still, the best solution would be to get Sun Haoyun to annul the marriage contract based on his guilt due to his unsavoury relationships with other omegas. 

 

  An annulment without proper reason would only bring more scrutiny upon Liu Qingge, creating far too much unnecessary stress for Liu Qingge, and inadvertently, Shen Qingqiu. An annulment attributed to Liu Qingge’s perceived infidelity would undoubtedly get him removed from his position as Peak Lord, because being an omega and a whore is more than enough reason for Liu Qingge’s many detractors to finally bring him down. 

 

  Liu Qingge would hate that, being removed from his post and Shen Qingqiu…well, Shen Qingqiu owes him.

  “It doesn’t matter, this master is merely here to give you a choice, whether you want to break off the engagement on your own terms—without sullying Liu Qingge’s name of course. Or if you would rather going about this the hard way.”

 

  “What—” Sun Haoyun snarls, leaping out of his seat, but then settles back down immediately, before letting out a sharp bark of laughter, “You are threatening me? Fine.”

 

  Then he continues, his eyes meeting Shen Qingqiu’s as he sneers, “We are doing this on my terms. I’m certain a learned scholar like Peak Lord Shen is aware of the terms for an interloper to steal an omega, so let’s have a duel, the one who wins gets Liu Qingge. Simple, isn’t it?” 

 

  It is simple; and certainly an elegant solution. Though the method is slightly archaic, whoever wins the duel has unquestionable rights to Liu Qingge under imperial law. 

 

  Perhaps there is no better solution, at least not one that Shen Qingqiu can think of, so he accepts. 

🀤

  The duel is set to be a month later, leaving Shen Qingqiu with far more time on his hands than he knows what to do with. Well, technically, he should be performing his Peak Lord duties. But that’s really all it is, a technicality.

 

  It’s not like Liu Qingge ever did his duties. Though it’s more out of personal choice on his part than most think. A placeholder omega peak lord, there because Cang Qiong wanted to honour the age-old tradition of passing down the title to whoever had defeated their predecessor. 

 

  It would have irked Shen Qingqiu endlessly, to be in Liu Qingge’s place, but he supposes it isn’t his problem. The omega has no qualms with prancing around the entire cultivation world and endless night hunts for obscure, and possibly nonexistent creatures. 

 

  This little…problem might or might not be the source of Shen Qingqiu’s current dilemma. 

 

  That is, of course, Liu Qingge insisting on fucking off to who knows where to find and defeating who knows what. All while pregnant.

 

  Great.

 

  He ponders over this dilemma as he goes through Introduction to Classical Poetry with Luo Binghe after his now weekly meetings with Liu Qingge. 

 

  When they aren’t fighting, being around Liu Qingge is shockingly uncomplicated; there’s no tip-toeing around unspoken rules and traditional customs, no need to attempt to be polite and no need to pretend to be anything other than Shen Qingqiu, a rude, arrogant, lecherous jerk.

 

  Still, he tries to give in more, to keep his anger in check when Liu Qingge makes yet another disparaging remark about his character. 

 

  Liu Qingge is Liu Qingge, and Shen Qingqiu expects nothing else from him.

 

  And perhaps he isn’t wrong about Shen Qingqiu’s character.

 

  Nevertheless, Shen Qingqiu is trying to change, somehow. He should have given up and accepted his lot in life by now, but yet here he is, attempting to reinvent himself once more. The dirt that once covered his skin has long seeped through his pores and into his blood, hidden underneath his new skin. Often he feels as if he’s stepped into another life, wearing another’s skin. 

 

  Here’s the thing, skin is thin and fragile, a translucent layer wrapped around something ugly. Shen Qingqiu’s is the same, but perhaps his blood runs black in his veins from the dirt that has made its home in his body, peeking through the veins, making it all too easy for others to see the monster hiding underneath. 

 

  Is it possible for him to build himself anew? Drain the dirtied blood from within and try to move away from the only identity he’s found comfort in? 

 

  (That’s a lie, but Xiao Jiu is too far out of reach from him now, but this,  this, an alpha worthy of Liu Qingge’s trust isn’t.)

 

  So he resolves himself to inform Liu Qingge that he’s accompanying the other on the night hunt, whether he likes it or not. Though the idea of being in such close proximity to Liu Qingge still grates on him, with the mere thought of it making his chest tighten. 

 

  “Shizun? Shizun, I’ve finished memorising the poem!” A chipper voice breaks into his thoughts.

 

  Right, Luo Binghe. 

 

  In Shen Qingqiu’s grand scheme to make things better, making amends to the little beast—no Luo Binghe, is one of his priorities. 

 

  Not near the top, of course, because Luo Binghe is a mere disciple who doesn’t deserve that much. A bit of suffering and pain builds character, in his personal opinion, so at least some of what Luo Binghe has gone through is…justified. 

 

  Whatever. What’s done is done.

 

   He refocuses his attention on Luo Binghe and demands, “Recite the poem on page 25.”

 

  “床前明月光， 

     疑是地上霜。

     举头望明月，

     低头思故乡。” Luo Binghe recites, without missing a beat.

 

  “Your delivery could use some work. Now, Disciple Luo Binghe, tell me what is the meaning of the poem?”

 

  Luo Binghe stills, and then slowly says, “There is no actual meaning of the poem, but it is merely written to convey the feeling of homesickness, which more often than not comes with the darkening of the sky.”

 

  Shen Qingqiu hums, “Acceptable.”

 

  This gets Luo Binghe to perk up, his eyes sparkling, “This disciple thanks Shizun for his teaching!”

 

  There it is again, that blatant desire for more, the greed for approval that seems far larger than Luo Binghe should be physically capable of. 

 

  He has had so much that Shen Qingqiu never had but still possesses an inane victim complex Shen Qingqiu fails time and time again to understand.

 

  Greedy, disgusting little thing. 

 

  “That’s it for today. You are dismissed and remember to finish 50 pages of calligraphy practice, your calligraphy is atrocious,” Shen Qingqiu says coldly, turning his head. 

 

  “This lowly disciple thanks Shizun for his teachings!” Luo Binghe exclaims as he bows lowly.

 

  Shen Qingqiu doesn’t bother to acknowledge the boy at all, simply turning on his heel and staring at his most prized fans hung up on the wall, as he contemplates which he should bring to meet Liu Qingge. But, most notably, there’s a lack of the sound behind him. 

 

  Odd. No shuffling, no click of the bamboo door as Luo Binghe makes his way out. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu swirls back around, only to see Luo Binghe still kneeling on the ground. He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “What do you want.”

 

  “Uh…this lowly disciple doesn’t mean to trouble Shizun but this one wishes to offer Shizun some snacks that he has made to thank Shizun for all his hard work! This disciple knows he is lacking in many aspects, and this disciple is eternally grateful for Shizun’s patience and—”

 

  “Stop,” Shen Qingqiu says, and reluctantly continues, “Fine, where are these…snacks.”

 

  Luo Binghe’s eyes go wide, and he blinks, before he stutters out, “They are—they are at the dorms! I’ll go back and get them for you right now.” Then, he makes an aborted move to get up and rush out of the bamboo hut. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu stares at the boy’s back, wondering why in the world was Luo Binghe suddenly so anxious. Then it hits him, the little beast lives in the woodshed, and there’s little place in the woodshed for one to place a plate of snacks. The little beast is probably worried his food has been consumed by the myriad of insects that lurk in the corners of the shabby shack. 

 

  What a troublesome child.

 

  If he were more intelligent, more adept at currying favour with Shen Qingqiu as he separately wanted to be, he should learn from Mingfang. Not…whatever this sad attempt at buying his way into Shen Qingqiu’s good graces was. 

 

  It does, however, occur to him that he should get the boy a new place to stay. Evidently, the disciple dormitories are out of the question because it would inevitably end with Luo Binghe back in the woodshed again. Possibly for good, once those brats got better at hiding Luo Binghe’s living situation.  The room attached to the bamboo hut is a choice, but that would feed even more into the lecherous impression he’s attempting to cull. A young, unmated disciple, living together with him, Shen Qingqiu can already imagine the rumours forming. There is no shortage of ways to ensure this disciple becomes an omega shackled to him, they would say.

 

 Well, there’s probably another place he can dump the boy in, on this enormous mountain. 

 

  “Disciple Luo, stop right there. This master shall go down to the dormitories with you.”

 

  Luo Binghe’s feet screech to a halt, as he exclaims quickly, “There is no need to exhaust yourself with such trivial matters, Shizun! This lowly one will go and get the snacks by himself!

 

  “Is Disciple Luo implying that this master is too weak to make a short walk to the dormitories?” Shen Qingqiu sneers, bringing his fan up to his face.

 

  “No—! That’s not what I meant!” Luo Binghe interjects, his eyes already glistening. Shen Qingqiu scoffs to himself, is this really a matter worth crying over? 

 

  “Then what is the issue?” 

 

   Finally, Luo Binghe seems to have got the hint, as he wilts under Shen Qingqiu’s frosty gaze. He nods and trails in front of Shen Qingqiu, leading him to the woodshed. 

 

  The woodshed is in as terrible of a state as ever, its earthen walls grey and aged. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu doesn’t say a word, staring at Luo Binghe’s back as he slinks into the shed and returns with a plate with a bamboo cover over it’s contents. 

 

  Luo Binghe presents the plate with his head bowed down low, his eyes firmly fixated on the ground. 

 

  Rolling his eyes, Shen Qingqiu lifts the bamboo lid, expecting nothing much. 

 

  To his surprise, the snacks on the plate are arranged neatly, and a pleasant aroma wafts from the plate. The selection is nothing to scoff at either, from an assortment of bite-sized baos to rice crackers, and there was even a few pieces of tanghulu sequestered off to the side in a saucer. 

 

 Shen Qingqiu picks a piece of tanghulu up and inspects it for any grime silently, ascertaining that it is clean before taking a bite. 

 

  The piece of candied fruit in his mouth was…shockingly good. But the ability to cook like this didn’t appear from thin air for no reason which prompted Shen Qingqiu to wonder what exactly Luo Binghe was doing in Qing Jing Peak when his grasp of the four arts were still so weak after over a year on the mountain.

 

  If he wanted to cook instead of study he should have just stayed in the village below, there’s always a need for a cook. 

 

  “Little beast, is this what you were doing instead of studying? Instead of practicing your cultivation? Cooking?” He murmurs, though his voice deceptively soft. 

 

  Luo Binghe practically collapses in his rush to refute Shen Qingqiu, crying out, “Shizun, it’s not like that. This disciple only cooks after he’s finished all the work you’ve assigned and the chores too! Please have mercy on this lowly disciple.”

 

  There are beginnings of tears starting to form in Luo Binghe’s eyes; something that would have once brought immense pleasure to him now merely sickens him. He hates this, he hates what he’s become. 

 

  He’s sorry, so fucking sorry. Apologies get stuck up his throat and his eyes burn as he clenches his hands into fists. 

 

  What if he’s an equally terrible father too? An equally terrible alpha to Liu Qingge? 

 

  Liu Qingge would have no ability to fight back, not once they have properly wed. 

 

  He would simply have no right to disobey his alpha. 

 

  The child would fare even worse, born to an unwilling and unhappy mother and a tyrannical father. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu doesn’t speak, he doesn’t trust himself to speak. 

 

  Instead, he gestures for Luo Binghe to follow him as he leads him to a vacant house once occupied by a long deceased hallmaster. 

 

  The tiles on the roof are in a mess and the entire place is caked in dust, but it’s the best option he can scrounge up for Luo Binghe at the moment.

  “Move your stuff here today,” he chokes out, before turning on his heel.

 

  This place is yours now, goes unsaid. Nevertheless, Luo Binghe understands.

 

  He can practically envision the disgustingly pathetic look on Luo Binghe’s face as the boy sniffs, “This lowly disciple thanks Shizun for his kindness again! This Binghe is undeserving of such a fine place, but he will do his best to take care of it!”

 

  Stupid, stupid child, is the only thing Shen Qingqiu thinks as he leaves. 

  

🀤

  He wakes up the next day wracked by a terrible headache, and he scrambles to pop a handful of painkillers in his mouth before he opens his eyes. 

 

  The painkillers are barely effective and he briefly considers making his way to the Warm Red Pavillion tonight to finally one full night of sleep before promptly dismissing the idea. He cannot not risk being seen there again for now. 

 

  However, he does pen a letter down to the ladies there, informing them that he would not be going back until he could resolve an issue that has recently cropped up in the sect. 

 

  Perhaps he is underselling it a bit, because a child on the way is certainly more than a minor sect issue. Nevertheless, a bit of deception never hurt anyone.

 

  Then, he gets ready, bathing and then drying his hair with a blast of qi before putting on his robes. 

 

  When he finally deems himself presentable, he hops onto his sword and flies over to Liu Qingge’s abode on Bai Zhan Peak.

 

  It is there he finds Liu Qingge, throwing random items into his qiankun pouch, with no discernable use for any of them. This is strange enough given Liu Qingge’s infamously dressing style, and his refusal of any ‘useless trinkets’ by the many trying to court his favour, but Shen Qingqiu puts it to the back of his mind. It’s none of his business, after all. 

 

  Instead, he announces his presence by leaning over Liu Qingge’s shoulder and murmuring, “What do we have here?”

  Liu Qingge practically jumps out of his skin, his scent in the air suddenly thickening to a sour scent. 

 

  “What is wrong with you?” He yells, his scent coming out in agitated waves. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu merely shrugs and replies, “What is wrong with you should be the question instead. Where do you think you are bringing all of this stuff?”

 

  Liu Qingge’s scent starts returning back to it’s normal state as he gradually relaxes, before answering, “You should remove your scent blockers.”

  “Why should I? The mighty Bai Zhan War God should easily be able to detect an intruder into his own home, no? You shouldn’t need a scent to tell you that,” Shen Qingqiu says, twirling his fan in his hand. 

 

  Liu Qingge, predictably, ignores Shen Qingqiu’s jab. Instead, he says gruffly, “I’m going on a night hunt.”

 

  “Sure you are, do you really think you are going anywhere in this state?” Shen Qingqiu remarks, his eyes narrowing, “Are you hell-bent on collapsing and killing off the child in your womb? Mind you, you are the one who wanted to keep the child.”

 

  Liu Qingge has the decency to look embarassed before quickly steeling his face back into it’s usual flat expression, before saying, “Not all of us are rich young masters who are so weak they can’t take a bit of hardship. The child will be fine.”

  Shen Qingqiu has half the mind to deck him for his comment because what does Liu Qingge know about hardship anyways? 

 

  Liu Qingge and his rich family, Liu Qingge who has never known what it was like to not even have clothes on his back and what it was like to dig for scraps of food from garbage. 

 

  But he keeps his comments and hands to himself, which is considerable progress, he supposes. Landscapes can be easily corrected, but a man’s nature is hard to move. 

 

  “And how can you guarantee that? You aren’t invulnearable, as much as you like to think you are. You are passing through multiple towns this time, aren’t you? Even you cannot travel so far to hunt down the Moon-thorned Serpent. If another alpha comes up to you and forces himself on you, then what? You should know by now that most people aren’t as honourable as you,” Shen Qingqiu says, and privately flinches at his own words. 

 

  Liu Qingge huffs, “I’ll just fight them off if I need to.”

 

  Shen Qingqiu blinks slowly, “But you didn’t fight off me, your worst enemy and your most hated person possibly in the entire cultivation world, did you? It’s not about the hypotheticals, you stupid brute. If we are talking hypotheticals, there a billion ways for you to be inapcitated, rendering you unable to fight back.”

 

  And in the brief moment that Liu Qingge is rendered speechless, Shen Qingqiu tacks on, “Thus, this master will be going with you.”

 

  Liu Qingge blinks and shock flashes across his face before he shakes his head and grunts, “Do what you want.”

  “I will,” Shen Qingqiu sniffs imperiously.

 

  As Liu Qingge turns his back to Shen Qingqiu, he adds, “Liu-shidi should hurry up and pack his belongings, this master is already prepared to leave.”

 

  Liu Qingge swivels around immediately and shouts, “I would have been done by now if it wasn’t for you!”

 

  Shen Qingqiu merely tilts his head and offers Liu Qingge a sardonic grin, “Is Liu-shidi blaming this one for his own incompetency?”

 

  “You—” Liu Qingge says, his eyes twitching. Just as Shen Qingqiu thinks this is going to evolve into a full blown fight again, he turns back around to his closet, snatching a set of robes and tossing it into his qiankun pouch.

 

  Shen Qingqiu takes it for the peace offering it is and wisely shuts up.

🀤

  The trip down to forests on the outskirts of the region is surprisingly uneventful, with a large portion of it being spent in complete silence as they zip through the tree tops. 

 

  There are no monsters plaguing the villages they stop by and no random threats from wandering cultivators, and the complete lack of anything happening is starting to get under Shen Qingqiu’s skin.

 

  It feels far too safe and uneventful. 

 

  They get off their swords at a small creek to rest on their third day. The creek itself is beautiful, especially in the late afternoon sun, with flower patches dotting the vicinity and tall willow trees shading the area from view. 

 

  Theoretically, a perfect spot for a short break.

 

  That is, until Liu Qingge realises it isn’t, first hand, by stumbling into one of the many flower patches nearby. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu doesn’t notice at first, t0o busy trying to figure where exactly they are and how far are they from where they need to be. 

 

  At least that is till he notices the odd silence, not that Liu Qingge is usually noisy, in fact, he is possibly the epitome of stoicism. Still, there is no sound of footsteps or any indication of Liu Qinge’s presence and Liu Qingge had given no indication if he was leaving temporarily. 

 

  Well, it wouldn’t hurt to check, he supposed. 

 

  The first thing he sees when he turns around is Liu Qingge biting into his arm, leaning against a nearby tree. His face is impossibly red and there’s beads of sweat forming at his hairline. 

 

  He makes a move towards Liu Qingge, attempting to get closer to see what is wrong with the idiot before Liu Qingge releases his arm to shout at him, “Stop! The—the flowers!”

 

  And Shen Qingqiu looks down at his feet and thinks, oh.

 

  The Eternal Blue Blossom Flower. Of course, that’s what Liu Qingge has stumbled upon. 

 

  Truly fortuitous, he sneers internally. 

 

  Upon closer inspection, he realises that the flowers are only clustered in one specific spot, near a tree, and coincidentally, the very tree Liu Qingge is leaning on. 

 

  It makes sense, in theory, as the Eternal Blue Blossom Flower only grows in shaded areas away from sunlight and are very rare. Thankfully, because the flowers serve no actual purpose other than the fact that their pollen can be used as an extremely potent aphrodisiac. 

 

  Its effectiveness lies more within the realm of forcing the unlucky victim who has inhaled the pollen to partake intercourse within an hour or the pollen will destroy their lungs, effectively killing them.

 

  “Liu Qingge, you just attract problems everywhere, don’t you? Has this trip been so uneventful that you decided to matters into your own hands and get yourself sex pollened?” Shen Qingqiu says, exsaperated. 

 

  The scent of citrus hangs heavy in the air, Liu Qingge’s need palpable, especially to Shen Qingqiu. 

 

  He sighs. Perhaps this is his fate, considering the two times he and Liu Qingge had been well and truly alone in the past decade it had led to this. 

 

  At least this time, he thinks to himself, he can do better than the last. 

 

  “Liu Qingge,” he starts off, “I could help you deal with this situation if you are amiable, given you don’t have much choice unless you would rather die.” Shen Qingqiu stares down at Liu Qingge, whose pupils have dilated so much that there seemed to be more black than white in his irises. 

 

  The omega who still has his teeth firmly clamped down on his arm. 

 

  “Look, we both know that the last time this happened, it wasn’t—” Shen Qingqiu pauses for a moment before gritting out, “good, for both of us. But I swear it’ll be better this time.”

 

  Liu Qingge’s situation doesn’t look good, his eyes dazed and blank. His face and his neck is flushed red, and Shen Qingqiu’s alpha, lurking within his subconscious, is screaming at him to just take him, then and there. It screams at him to bite into that pale, unblemished flesh on Liu Qingge’s neck, to mark him as his, forever. 

 

  Wouldn’t it be nice? To have this unruly omega submit to you?

 

  It would, he thinks but digs his nails deeper into his palms to snap himself out of his stupor. He’s not doing that, that isn’t him. 

 

  He is not his instincts. 

 

  Liu Qingge doesn’t deserve this. 

 

  He gathers Liu Qingge into his arms and carries him away from the flowers, lest he gets infected once again somehow. Then, he places Liu Qingge’s prone body gently down into a small clearing

 

  “Your pregnancy will exacerbate the situation because the pollen is going to reach the fetus and kill it if we don’t act soon. So, just tell me you want this, or at the very least, you are fine with it,” he all but begs, and he gets his response when Liu Qingge pulls him down to meet his lips. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu smiles against his lips, unconsciously, as he brings his tongue to the other’s lips, prodding at them. 

 

  Liu Qingge tastes delicious and some part of him purrs in pleasure. 

 

  This is his omega, full of his pups. 

 

  He barely even notices it when Liu Qingge reaches up to rip Shen Qingqiu’s scent blocker off him, permeating the entire area with the scent of ink and tangerines as their scents mix together in the air. 

 

  It’s surprisingly pleasant, though Shen Qingqiu has no idea if thats just the hormones speaking. 

 

  It’s common knowledge that when alphas and omegas have been mated for a long time, they start smelling like each other, though no one has been able to find an explanation for this phenomenon. 

 

  In a way, it’s a symbol, to show to everyone and anyone else that they are mated, well and truly claimed. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu wants and wants. 

 

  He presses his nose into Liu Qingge’s neck while he works away at removing the other’s robes.

 

  It’s simple, with only two layers, unlike his own. 

 

  When he successfully removes Liu Qingge’s robes, he stops for a moment to stare because the last time he had seen Liu Qingge naked, well, simply put he hadn’t been in the best state of mind. 

 

  But this? Under the soft light of the setting sun and the plush greenery? Liu Qingge lives up to his moniker of a god. 

 

  The sky is blue, the grass is green and Liu Qingge is pretty. 

 

  These are all facts Shen Qingqiu knows, but yet, somehow, he feels like he truly understands what everyone else sees in Liu Qingge for the first time. 

 

  A small part of him grins in satisfaction, knowing that almost no one else will ever, ever see Liu Qingge in this state. 

 

  He’s all mine.  

 

  It’s that thought he keeps with him as he pulls open Liu Qingge’s legs and brings his mouth down. The scent of sugary sweet slick cuts through the air as he laps at Liu Qingge’s hole, now sopping wet.

 

  Shen Qingqiu spares a glance upwards where he notices Liu Qingge’s perfectly sculpted chest. He leaves a kiss between the other pecs and then lifts his head up to meet Liu Qingge’s waiting lips. 

His fingers trace Liu Qingge’s hungry hole, soft and pilant from slick. He clenches down around Shen Qingqiu’s index finger as he pushes it past the ring of muscle around his entrance. The slide in is easy, comfortable almost, and Shen Qingqiu cannot resist the urge to lean back down to lap at pretty little hole. 

 

  Liu Qingge clenches down around his tongue and finger, now working in tandem to open him up, and it sends shivers down Shen Qingqiu’s spine. 

 

  “I want to hear you,” he commands, as his finger stills to a stop within Liu Qingge.

 

 Liu Qingge’s eyes widen in shock, and his arm drops from his face, exposing his flushed cheeks. He looks like a mess. 

 

Because of me, Shen Qingqiu thinks to himself, wonderously. 

 

 Then, Liu Qingge lets out a bark that sounds more like a whine, “You—Why did you stop?”

 

  “I want to hear you, didn’t you hear me the first time? I need to know if you’re enjoying this,” Shen Qingqiu snarks, though he isn’t sure how effective the cutting tone is considering he can feel Liu Qingge’s slick all over his mouth. The taste is strangely addictive.

 

  “You— pervert!” Liu Qingge cries out, but his scent starts coming out in even larger, desperate waves. 

 

  “Hmm,” Shen Qingqiu hums as he attempts to loosen his finger from Liu Qingge’s hole, only to be met with Liu Qingge pressing down onto and biting into his shoulder. 

 

  “Desperate, aren’t you? My pretty little omega,” he coos, as he nuzzles into Liu Qingge’s neck, pausing to take a deep breath at Liu Qingge’s swollen scent gland. 

 

  Liu Qingge moans.

 

  The only thought that occurs to him then is that he wants to hear more. He wants Liu Qingge and his baby—their baby here together, under him, skin to skin so that he can protect them, keep them safe. He wants to hear every sound he can elicit from Liu Qingge, he wants to take them and keep them, ssafe in his bamboo house for no one else but him.

 

  Shen Qinggqiu thinks he’s being driven mad. 

 

  “I’ll get rid of this pollen soon, let me finish preparing you first. Do you want another finger now?” Shen Qingqiu asks as presses deeper into Liu Qingge.

 

  ‘Mmph,” Liu Qingge says, biting down on his lip.

 

  “Use your words, or do you not know what that means?” Shen Qingqiu says, his finger pressing more insistently into Liu Qingge, “Or do you not want another finger?”

 

  “Yes, yes, yes, just do it already,” Liu Qingge all but shouts.

 

  The corners of Shen Qingqiu’s mouth go up unconsciously as he murmurs, “Good.”

 

  Then, without preamble, he presses another finger into Liu Qingge. Liu Qingge, whose hole instantly clenches around the new intrusion, as if welcoming it. 

 

  So desperate, and so, so pretty. 

 

  The rosy pink ring of muscle winks around Shen Qingqiu’s fingers, clear liquid flowing out of it in a continuous stream. 

 

  The slick covers Liu Qingge’s muscled but plush ass in a soft sheen, as if begging Shen Qingqiu to sink his teeth into the soft cheeks. So he does, and gets a surprised yelp from Liu Qingge as a reward, one that slowly turns into a low moan.

 

  Albeit slightly unwillingly, he drags his other hand down from Liu Qingge’s chest to his leaking dick. It’s pretty, like the rest of him, and Liu Qingge lets out his loudest moan yet. 

 

  “Shen Qingqiu, take off your robes,” Liu Qingge grunts, grabbing at his sleeves.

 

  Shen Qingqiu blinks, then thinks about it, it isn’t fair if Liu Qingge is the only one naked, he supposes. 

 

  Well, it’s not like he hasn’t seen any of it before.

 

  He pulls off his clothes slowly and methodically, careful not to rip into the expensive silks. When he reaches his final layer, the sheer robe is ripped off by Liu Qingge even before he manages to reach his hands underneath the cloth. 

 

  The shimmering gauze is thrown to Liu Qingge’s side in a heap, the robe now completely torn in half. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu blinks. 

 

  Then, a small grin breaks onto his lips, almost imperceptible before he flattens them.

 

  It’s a heady feeling, to be wanted so fiercely by Liu Qingge of all people.

 

  Liu Qingge, the Liu prodigy, the strongest omega and arguably the most prominent omega in the Jianghu. The very same one who hated him to his core a mere month ago. The very one he had defiled and ruined the future of.

 

  He feels sick all over again.

 

  This is what Qiu Jianluo had felt, probably, holding him down. 

 

  Shen Jiu had always been slight, his features more delicate even underneath all the grime. Everyone had expected him to present as an omega, Qiu Jianluo included.

 

  Though it probably didn’t matter to that sick fuck, who was happy toying with Shen Jiu all the same.

 

  Perhaps he would have even been happier, knowing that Shen Jiu had presented as an alpha. 

 

  Then, Liu Qingge bites him.

 

  “Are you out of your mind?” Shen Qingqiu screeches.

 

  “Focus on me,” Liu Qingge states, his eyes still blown wide and glistening. 

 

  Right.

 

  Right.

 

  He still had to deal with Liu Qingge’s pesky little pollen problem. 

 

  So he trails his fingers down Liu Qingge’s sides and presses a kiss to his forehead in silent thanks. He’s not sure Liu Qingge understood the meaning of it but it doesn’t matter because the other turns impossibly redder. It’s much better that way.

 

  He wants and he wants and he wants.

 

  He’s going to do this right this time, penance done correctly.

 

  Shen Qingqiu presses his finger back into Liu Qingge, and then another, stretching the small entrance. He feels the slick gushing out, coating his fingers and then his hand. 

 

  When he pulls his fingers away from Liu Qingge’s hole for a moment, he brings his fingers up to his lips and tastes the slick again. 

 

  It’s strangely addictive.

 

  But then Liu Qingge lets out an aborted whine, and he presses his mouth against Liu Qingge’s to shut him up. 

 

  “Patience is a virtue, shidi,” he murmurs against the other’s lips, though he can feel his own erection straining between them.

 

  Then, Liu Qingge lets out a legitimately pained groan and Shen Qingqiu once again remembers the reason they’re even in this position in the first place — the poison.

 

  He’s not the type to have things slip his mind, quite the opposite, in fact.

 

  It’s quite possible Liu Qingge is driving him insane.

 

  Almost unthinkingly, he reaches his hand to Liu Qingge’s hair, now unbound and spilling over the grass, and smooths it out. 

 

  He continues to pat Liu Qingge’s head as he quickens his pace, pushing in another finger beside the two others. The ring of muscle gives easily, already more than stretched out from his previous ministrations.

 

  Liu Qingge lets out a pleased purr at this, and Shen Qingqiu’s inner alpha purrs back in satisfaction.

 

  When he deems the other ready, he removes his fingers and presses in slowly. 

 

  “Is this okay?” He asks, though he can feel his grip on his self control already slipping. 

 

  Liu Qingge, somehow, is perfect everywhere. And unlike his obstinate nature, his body seems to give in far more easily. Liu Qingge’s hole sucks him in, then tightens like a vice grip around him, as if unwilling to let him go.

 

“Yes, yes, yes! Just move—“ Liu Qingge groans, pulling Shen Qingqiu in even more, pressing down as much as he possibly can to take Shen Qingqiu in deeper. Slick spills out of Liu Qingge’s hole in waves, and his scent grows so thick Shen Qingqiu feels like he’s choking on it.

 

  He wonders if Liu Qingge has ever done this before with anyone else. 

 

  He decides he rather not know.

 

  Fulfilling Liu Qingge’s request is a simple thing, so he does exactly that, and starts moving. He pounds into Liu Qingge, cataloging every single reaction and angling his thrusts to make sure he hits Liu Qingge’s prostate every single time. 

 

  It’s not like he has a lot of experience — he has practically none, but he has always been a quick learner.

 

  “Alpha— Alpha,” Liu Qingge moans breathily, and Shen Qingqiu notes that more colour has returned to his face, and his face is flushed red instead of white now. 

 

  A bead of sweat trickles down Liu Qingge’s forehead, and Shen Qingqiu reaches up to wipe it away. 

 

  “You’re perfect, aren’t you? My omega. Look at you,” he coos, cupping Liu Qingge’s face and letting a small grin creep onto his face when Liu Qingge closes his eyes and nuzzles into it.

 

  Liu Qingge is so, so, so pretty. 

 

  Later, when Shen Qingqiu snaps out of whatever hormone-induced daze he was in, he would look back on this thought, embarrassed. 

 

  But now, as Liu Qingge murmurs his names in between aborted breaths and whimpers. He only falls, as he feels his gut tightening with a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

 

  It’s a feeling that he’s always associated with nausea, but the vomit doesn’t come when he finally comes, his knot filling Liu Qingge’s womb with his seed.

 

  Right after this happens, Liu Qingge comes as well, his face contorting in pleasure. It’s not exactly a pretty face, but it’s Liu Qingge.

 

  They collapse side-by-side on the grass, exhausted and spent. 

 

  Liu Qingge’s eyes have cleared up from its pollen induced haze. His forehead is only very slightly covered by the sheen of sweat, and his breathing is even.

 

  Good.

 

  Shen Qingqiu wants to ask, if Liu Qingge had found enjoyment in the act, if he had been disgusted by his body’s own betrayal. 

 

  It’s not the wise thing to do, so he doesn’t.

 

  Instead, he asks, “Liu shidi, are you feeling better now?”

 

  “Mhm,” Liu Qingge agrees, then pauses before he says, “Thank you.”

 

 Liu Qingge is ever full of surprises, really.

 

  He sniffs imperiously, though he’s pretty sure the effect is lost due his very blatant state of undress, “Shidi can thank this master by not running headfirst into a patch of aphrodisiacal flowers again.”

 

  “You could’ve died, you idiotic brute, if I wasn’t here. What ever happened to spatial awareness?” He continues, turning his head ever so slightly to meet Liu Qingge in the eye.

 

  Liu Qingge, thankfully, has the decency to look ashamed. 

 

  “It was an accident,” Liu Qingge mutters. 

 

  “Of course it was, what kind of idiot walks into a patch of deadly flowers?”

 

  Liu Qingge huffs and rolls his eyes. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu shoots him a look, and Liu Qingge wilts almost instantly under his gaze. 

 

  At this, Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes, then presses a hand to Liu Qingge’s forehead. It’s warm, but not burning. 

 

  Good, he thinks to himself, the fact that Liu Qingge’s body’s internal temperature was stablising so rapidly was a good sign, a sign that his body was expelling the pollen already. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu barely even notices how close they’ve gotten until he blinks again, breaking out his thoughts and is met by Liu Qingge’s unnerving gaze. They are so close that he can practically count every single lash on Liu Qingge’s eyes. 

 

  He leaps back immediately.

 

  “We should clean up,” and when Liu Qingge makes a move to get up, Shen Qingqiu pushes him back down and says, “No. You stay right here and don’t move. That wouldn’t be too much of a challenge now, would it, shidi?”

 

  He doesn’t even wait for a response before pulling himself up, and turning on his heel, all while keenly aware of his evident lack of clothes. His skin feels like a disgusting sticky mess and he would rather die than look at his own reflection right now. 

 

  God.

 

  Look, he usually keeps his qiankun pouch in his sleeve, but he hadn’t assumed Liu Qingge would have exceeded all expectations and gotten into so much trouble he wouldn’t be able to retrieve it at all. 

 

  After he picks up their supplies, he makes his way back to Liu Qingge, pulling out a damp washcloth to wipe him down. He does this in quick strokes, only slowing down around Liu Qingge’s chests and nether regions, of which he takes special care of to clean out the abhorrent amount of bodily fluids in and around them. 

 

  While he doing all this, he can feel Liu Qingge’s eyes boring into the back of his head, and he finally gives in and snaps, “What?”

“Did you learn how to do this from the brothels?” Liu Qingge asks bluntly, truly, he has no regard for decorum at all. 

 

  “What does shidi think?” He responds cryptically as possible, continuing his task but lifting a new cloth up to wipe away at the beads of sweat that had collected along Liu Qingge’s hairline.

 

  It’s mildly disgusting but he supposes he has touched far more unsanitary at this point.

 

  “I mean—you…you are always there! What else could you be doing in a brothel?” 

 

    Liu Qingge’s face is still slightly flushed, cute, Shen Qingqiu thinks to himself. It makes Shen Qingqiu want to tease him a little. The same thing would have infuriated him to no end maybe just a few weeks ago, but now, he thinks he understands Liu Qingge’s simplistic thinking a bit better.

 

  “Hmmm, Shen Qingqiu hums, “Shidi has never been in a brothel, has he?”

 

  “Of course—“ Liu Qingge’s splutters, “What omega would step a single foot into a brothel?”

 

  “But there are omegas who go to brothels though?” Shen Qingqiu says, tilting his head, the corner of his lips tugged very slightly upwards.

 

  Liu Qingge’s face turns a shade of red Shen Qingqiu wasn’t even sure was humanly possible till now, a deep vermillion spreading from his ears to his neck. Shen Qingqiu has half the mind to pinch his cheeks like a particularly cute misbehaving junior disciple.

 

  “Why—? What—?” Liu Qingge splutters, “What would an omega do in a brothel?”

  “Have sex, obviously,” Shen Qingqiu snarks, “What else does someone do in a brothel?”

 

  “YOU—! It’s improper! How would that even work?” Liu Qingge screeches. 

 

  “Has it occurred to shidi that some omegas prefer the presence of other omegas and not alphas?” Shen Qingqiu pauses and then continues, “Fair enough considering how alphas usually act.”

  Liu Qingge doesn’t reply to that, his face still that brillant red and turns his head away.  

 

  After a prolonged pause, Liu Qingge asks, almost hesitantly, “Is that why you hide your scent?”

 

  Shen Qingqiu stills, “Pray tell, what does shidi mean by this?”

 

  “Do you hate alphas?” Liu Qingge asks, unblinkingly. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu takes a sharp breath. It's a far sharper observation than most Liu Qingge makes on the regular, and one that hits far too close to home. 

 

  “Why would you say that? If shidi hasn’t noticed yet, this master is an alpha as well. How could I possibly ever hate my own kind?” Shen Qingqiu replies, purposefully obtuse. 

 

  “You don’t like alphas,” Liu Qingge says, his eyes wide as if he’s reached an epiphany. 

 

  “That’s the opposite of what this master said. Liu Qingge, do you truly have rocks for brains?” Shen Qingqiu snaps.

 

  “You don’t like alphas,” Liu Qingge repeats, resolute.

 

  “Are you so thick that you think that I live in a constant state of self-hatred?“

 

  (Perhaps he does, but that’s besides the point.)

 

  This sentence seems to strike a chord in Liu Qingge somehow because his normally expressionless face somehow twitches as his eyes widen even further as if Shen Qingqiu has bestowed upon him yet another relevation. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu does not like whatever ideas the brute has formed of him in his head, whatever dots he thinks he has connected. 

 

  “Stop fucking thinking!”

 

  “You always tell me to think more and now you have a problem?” Liu Qingge replies, indignation colouring his voice. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu sneers. He desperately wants to storm off right about now, but there’s nowhere to go, no Qing Jing Peak to run off too, no Warm Red Pavillion to hide in. 

 

  It feels like there’s ants crawling under his skin, burrowing their way into his flesh. He hates this, he hates how he’s been slipping up around Liu Qingge and somehow Liu Qingge is….understanding him? That’s not quite the right word. 

 

  It feels like Liu Qingge is seeing him for the first time. 

 

  It’s a strange feeling. He thinks he hates it.

 

   “Fuck you,” Shen Qingqiu spits venomously and turns around to face the other side, squeezing his eyes shut.

 

  “Why do you always do this?” Liu Qingge snarls. 

 

  Shen Qingqiu doesn’t have an answer to that, so he continues to keep his mouth shut. 

 

  “Stop fucking pretending to be asleep, Shen Qingqiu!” 

 

  Ah, this is more like the Liu Qingge he knows.

 

  “Why are you always like this?”

 

  “I should have expected this from you,” Liu Qingge mutters.

 

  A pause.

 

  “Tomorrow. We’ll talk,” Liu Qingge says, and it sounds like a threat.

 

🀤

Notes:

i hope i will be able to finish this but it might take a while as this has been sitting in my drafts for over a year now... but i really wanted to get at least a part of it out there to spread my liujiu agenda.

i'll be sitting for a huge examination that's going to determine the trajectory of my life in about a month or so, so updates will be slow T___T (if any), but i do really want to continue this! lmk if you guys enjoyed and any kudos and comments appreciated as always.

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also shoutout to pennydaniels for the alpha sj brainworms...!!