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Tianlang-Jun first saw him at the market. A pale wisp of a boy at the cusp between youth and adulthood. Tianlang-Jun would never have spared another thought about him if someone hadn’t bumped the boy the next moment. He turned around, pale green eyes flashing with malice and Tianlang-Jun’s interest was piqued. He felt Zhuzhi-lang twist around his neck where he hung under his robes and he ducked his head to whisper to his nephew.
“Do you see that boy? I think we should get to know him better.”
Zhuzhi-lang popped his little green head out. His tongue flickered, then he curled back under Tianlang-Jun’s robes to wait for further instructions. His nephew was dependable like that.
He didn’t get a chance to talk to the boy that day. He slipped through the crowd and was gone before Tianlang-Jun even made it halfway across the street.
…
Tianlang-Jun was out perusing the newest selection of books when he saw the boy again. The boy wasn’t alone this time. There was a young man next to him. His hand dug into the boy’s arm as he pulled him down the street. The boy’s posture was so much different than it had been. Where before he’d been ready to lash out with sharp viciousness, he was now tense, shoulders curled and eyes tracking every movement the young man made.
Fascinating, Tianlang-Jun thought.
The young man left the boy at a stand of vegetables before striding off down the street. Tianlang-Jun was struck frozen watching the poisonous look of hate the boy aimed at his companion’s back.
Fascinating. Really truly fascinating.
He bent to whisper to his nephew, still wrapped around his neck. “Go slow that other one down. I don’t want him interrupting my time with my new friend.”
Zhuzhi-lang slithered out of his robes, tongue flicking out, then he wound his way down to the ground and was gone. Satisfied, Tianlang-Jun made his way over.
He stood behind the boy for a few moments. The boy was thinner than he probably should be, but still grown into his full height the way humans were by his age. The perfect height for Tianlang-Jun to wrap an arm around his waist and place his chin atop the boy's head.
The boy was choosing between turnips, turning them this way and that, before placing them down again. Tianlang-Jun reached around him to grab one and a long-fingered hand whipped out and seized his wrist. The boy turned, snapping his gaze to Tianlang-Jun. His grip strength was weak, but his eyes were full of cold anger. A truly beautiful look on his young face.
“What is it you think you’re doing?” The boy asked. His fingers were still biting into Tianlang-Jun’s wrist.
“Can this lord not buy a turnip if he wishes?” Tianlang-Jun smiled back.
The boy’s eyes swept down his figure. He cocked a brow.
“This lord?” The boy scoffed. “This one wonders what is so fascinating about him that a lord decided to spend the last quarter shichen staring at him.”
Tianlang-Jun’s smile broadened. This boy was perceptive.
“I like beautiful things,” Tianlang-Jun shrugged. The boy scowled, his hand whipping away. The tips of his ears were colored a delicate red. How cute. Tianlang-Jun massaged his wrist. He could still feel the marks where the boy’s fingers had dug into him. “Might this lord ask your name?”
The boy snorted. “And why would I tell you anything about myself.”
“Because I sent my nephew to delay the young man that was with you. I hoped that might buy me some good will.”
The boy stared down his nose like Tianlang-Jun was an especially annoying bug. An interesting feat considering Tianlang-Jun was a fair bit taller than him. He relented with a sigh.
“You first.”
“You can call me Tianlang-jun.”
The boy’s brow arched, eyes narrowing. After a moment he replied with a roll of his eyes.
“Shen Jiu.”
“Ah,” Tianlang-Jun hummed. “A-Jiu then.”
Shen Jiu’s reaction was a beautiful thing to behold. His eyes widened, lips parting as his cheeks flushed. Then he was glaring like he might set Tianlang-Jun aflame by his gaze alone.
“Beast,” he hissed. He shoved Tianlang-Jun hard, rocking him backwards before storming off down the street. Tianlang-Jun watched him go, then started to laugh. How pretty Shen Jiu looked when he was surprised. And how much prettier he looked when he was angry.
…
The next time he saw Shen Jiu was late into the evening. Tianlang-Jun had been kicked out of the inn for not having enough money to pay and he’d sent Zhuzhi-lang back to the demon realm to go procure more funds for their travels. This suited Tianlang-jun fine. It was a lovely summer night. The moon was full and the air was cool. He’d taken out his pipa to play when he heard splashing.
Through the trees he caught sight of Shen Jiu kneeling by the nearby stream. There was blood on his face and a deep bruise along the curve of his shoulder where he’d slipped his robe off. He was using the water to splash his face with shaking hands. The moon was bright and Tianlang-Jun could make out the puffiness of Shen Jiu’s eyes even in the dark.
He kept his footsteps soft as he stepped out of the trees, but Shen Jiu was perceptive as ever. He whipped around with blazing eyes, fingers already closing on a rock. They did not let it go when he caught sight of Tianlang-jun.
”Good evening A-Jiu.” Tianlang-Jun smiled. “How lucky am I to come across a great beauty in the moonlight. Have you read Whispers under Starlit Skies? There is a scene just like this.”
Shen Jiu sneered at him.
“I told you not to call me that,” he said.
“A-Jiu? No, you called me a beast and left. You didn’t tell me not to do anything.” He walked closer, bending at the waist so he could examine Shen Jiu closer. There were more bruises than Tianlang-Jun had first seen. A dark scattering of circular marks littered his shoulder and collar bone, some already turning yellow with age. Shen Jiu followed his gaze then jerked his robe back up.
“What do you want?” He snapped.
“This lord only wants the pleasure of A-Jiu’s company.” Tianlang-jun grinned. He was like a cute little cat. So angry, lashing out with his claws. He reached out to run his hand along a streak of blood curving down Shen Jiu’s jaw, tracked from his hairline. Shen Jiu startled at the touch, eyes going wide. He smacked Tianlang-Jun’s hand away.
“If my lord wants the pleasure of someone’s company, then he is better suited to a brothel.” Shen Jiu spat before turning his head back to the stream.
Tianlang-Jun settled down next to him, enjoying the cool night air and the sound of the slow moving water. It really could have been a scene out of one of his books. He waited for Shen Jiu to acknowledge him again, but the boy simply acted like he wasn’t there. After a few minutes of this Tianlang-Jun leaned closer.
“Do you want them dead, A-Jiu?” He purred low into Shen Jiu’s ear.
Shen Jiu whipped his head to the side to glare at Tianlang-Jun. “Who?”
“The one who left the bruises. The one who cut you where it would be hidden by your hair.”
Shen Jiu’s jaw clenched, fingers curling into fists. Tianlang-Jun had a good idea of who would’ve done something like that to lovely Shen Jiu. He could imagine the white-hot rage running through the boy, could see it burning in every subtle twitch of his face.
“I’ll kill him for you.” Tianlang-Jun said. “If you ask, I’ll do it.”
Shen Jiu stared. Around them the stream bubbled and the insects hummed. The moon cast Shen Jiu in a pale blue glow. How beautiful he would look without those ill-fitting robes, laid out in the grass wearing nothing at all.
“What would you want in exchange?” Shen Jiu asked, soft, brows drawing together.
“Oh, I wonder.” Tianlang-Jun hummed. In his books this would be the point where the main character would whisk the lovely maiden away.
Shen Jiu’s nose wrinkled as he let out a disgusted noise without even favoring Tianlang-Jun with an answer. He pushed himself up, striding away down the stream away. That was fine. Tianlang-Jun was sure he had at least piqued lovely A-Jiu’s interest. These things had a way of working out.
…
He caught Shen Jiu again escorting a young lady through the market. She was very pretty, if not a little wide-eyed for Tianlang-Jun’s taste. She also seemed to like A-Jiu quite a bit, leaning in to him as they walked. Shen Jiu allowed it the way he had not allowed anyone else to touch him. But Tianlang-Jun had spent much of his life enamored by human romance and he did not think Shen Jiu returned her feelings. Oh, what a tragedy for them. He wondered if the girl knew about the bruising. Did she know the most likely culprit was the young man Tianlang-Jun had seen before? The one who shared so much resemblance to her. It was just like in so many classic stories. They were all hurdling for a true tragic ending.
Shen Jiu caught sight of him across the street. His eyes lingered as the girl spoke to a street vendor. Tianlang-Jun grinned and quirked a finger at him. Come here, the gesture said.
Shen Jiu huffed and shook his head. He nodded at the girl.
Tianlang-Jun’s smile curled. He pointed to the inn he was staying at, mimed pouring liquid into a cup, then pointed up at the sun, high in the sky. He traced the path it would take until he stopped at the treeline. Later then.
Shen Jiu rolled his eyes. He leaned in and spoke to the girl and together they set off down the street. Before he disappeared from view, he turned and shrugged one shoulder. It was as good an acceptance as any.
Tianlang-Jun felt Zhuzhi-lang stir, lifting out of his robes to watch Shen Jiu leave.
“I think he likes me,” Tianlang-Jun said. Zhuzhi-lang’s tongue darted out in response.
…
Tianlang-Jun had dinner ordered and wine brought to his room with instructions to escort Shen Jiu up to him when he arrived. It was far past sunset when Tianlang-Jun’s patience was rewarded. There was a knock at his door then Shen Jiu was walking in, another bruise just peeking out of the side of his collar. Tianlang-Jun wondered if he knew it was there.
Shen Jiu sat down at the table with no preamble and started serving himself. He was scowling, eyes down, shoulders tight like he was waiting for Tianlang-Jun to stop him. Tianlang-Jun propped his head on his hand and reached out to drop the better slices of pork into Shen Jiu’s bowl. Shen Jiu’s eyes cut up to him, pale green. How beautiful would this boy look draped in silk and crowned in gold, icy gaze surveying those around him. A cold peerless beauty, like out of a book. Tianlang-Jun wanted to take him apart to see how he worked.
“How is A-Jiu this evening?” Tianlang-Jun smiled.
“Why are you still calling me that?” Shen Jiu huffed.
“Because you still haven’t told me not to,” Tianlang-Jun’s lips curled up, showing off the sharp line of his eye-teeth. “Tell me not to, A-Jiu.”
Shen Jiu’s lip twisted, eyes flashing. The moments ticked by with no word sending a shivery feeling through Tianlang-Jun. He wanted to cross the space between them. He wondered if he pushed Shen Jiu against the floor if he’d fight. Or if Tianlang-Jun could convince him with a gentle word and a soft touch. This boy was starved for kindness, how easy it would be to twist him around. How fun that could be.
Something in his gaze must have given him away. Shen Jiu tensed, jaw tightening. Tianlang-Jun could feel it then. The delicate thread of Shen Jiu’s qi twisting around him, the fragile beginnings of a golden core. Fascinating. Truly. What a strange boy! Where had he learned such a thing? If this was from practice on his own, his potential would have been astounding. Of course he’d missed his window to harness it. Humans were so delicate. But there were other ways that Tianlang-Jun knew to fix these things.
“So cold A-Jiu! Why are you glaring at me?” Tianlang-Jun pouted. He poured wine into Shen Jiu’s cup, then into his own.
“I know what you want,” Shen Jiu said. His head was held high, imperious as a lord before his court. “I won't give it to you.”
Tianlang-Jun let his smile sharpen. “No? Would you like to bet on it?”
Shen Jiu’s gaze darted to the knife that had been brought up with dinner. Tianlang-Jun held up his hands. His heart was fluttering and he fought down the grin that threatened to spill out of him.
“Ah, A-Jiu, this lord apologizes. Please don’t be angry.”
“What game is this?” Shen Jiu spat. His hand was still poised to grab the knife.
“No game,” Tianlang-Jun said. “I just find A-Jiu very beautiful and I can’t help but tease him. Let me make it up to you.” In stories, the love interest would often soothe the sought after young maiden with poetry or music and for that reason Tianlang-Jun was always prepared.
He stood to gather his pipa from the side of the room. Shen Jiu watched him with a furrowed brow, gaze never drifting away. Tianlang-Jun shot him a wink then sat down to play. He was a good player. He’d had many years to work on his skill and he strummed the strings with the ease of long practice. He let the melody fill the room, settling into the notes, before taking a deep breath to sing. He lost himself in the music, letting the story of a young lover waiting for their beloved to return flow through him.
As the last notes trilled through the air and he placed his hand to stop the vibrating strings, he opened his eyes. Shen Jiu was watching him. His face was soft, lips parted and brow lifted. His expression was not what Tianlang-Jun had expected. There was no joy in the performance, no amusement at Tianlang-Jun’s easy talent, not even derision. His lips were pulled down, his gaze faraway, like he was lost in another scene, another place. Tianlang-Jun swallowed. This was something new. His heart fluttered, delicate like a little bird taking flight.
“You play well,” Shen Jiu said. His expression closed as swift as a door slammed shut.
“I’m glad this lord’s performance was satisfactory for his A-Jiu.” Tianlang-Jun said. The words flowed easily, but he felt off. He didn’t like Shen Jiu’s unreadable expression. Not when he knew there was so much else hidden behind it.
“I always wanted to play,” Shen Jiu said. His brow furrowed like he wasn’t sure why he’d said it. He pushed his empty cup of wine away.
“I could teach you,” Tianlang-jun said. “This lord would be happy to demonstrate the correct method and technique in anything A-Jiu wished to learn.”
Shen Jiu snorted, his scowl settling back in place. Tianlang-Jun took a breath, back on solid ground now that they’d returned to their roles.
“That will not be necessary,” Shen Jiu said. “I don’t believe you have anything worthwhile you could offer me.” He stood, straightening his robes and running a hand along his hair. “This one thanks Tianlang-Jun for the meal and for sharing his talents.”
Tianlang-Jun opened his mouth with the offer to show Shen Jiu other talents but the words died in his throat under that cold green gaze. Shen Jiu bowed, then showed himself out. There was something warm curling in Tianlang-Jun’s gut, an insistent pulsing desire. He poured himself another glass of wine, taking a seat by the window where he could gaze up at the moon. He wondered when he might see Shen Jiu again.
…
Tianlang-Jun sat hidden on a rooftop, watching the human cultivator run his trials as if he was from some righteous sect. Many had come to be tested by the man just to see if they were worthy of whatever standards he told them we’re important. Tianlang-Jun knew that his tests meant very little. What the man was looking for was something that could not be tested for.
He was growing bored again when he caught a familiar figure. Shen Jiu stood out from the crowd with that sharp gaze and pretty face. The cultivator seemed to think so too. Tianlang-Jun watched him perk up, leaning in to speak to Shen Jiu. He ran a hand down Shen Jiu’s arm, grasping his wrist to study the flow of his qi. Tianlang-Jun scowled.
Zhuzhi-lang shifted where he’d been sleeping under his robes, winding out to survey the gathered crowd. He turned to Tianlang-Jun and bumped his cheek, tongue flicking out to brush Tianlang-Jun’s nose.
“Ah, you’re right,” Tianlang-Jun said. “This can be easily remedied.” He hopped down from the roof in the shade of a camellia bush. He picked one and handed it to Zhuzhi-lang. “Will you find A-Jiu when he is free and give this to him? I’ll take care of our other friend.”
Zhuzhi-lang took the flower in his mouth, then slithered down Tianlang-Jun’s leg, disappearing into the bushes. Satisfied, Tianlang-Jun turned and strode through the garden and back to the Main Street, whistling.
…
The cultivator died too easily. Tianlang-Jun stared down at his slowly cooling body and sighed. If he was going to make a bid for Shen Jiu’s interest, he could have put up more of a fight. That’s how it was supposed to be after all. A fight to the death for the young maiden’s hand. To the victor went the spoils.
He used a talisman to incinerate the body, no need for questions. Then made his way back to town.
He found Shen Jiu sitting on a bench under a plum tree, the delicate blossoms, haloing his head in dark pink. Zhuzhi-lang was still in his little snake form, curled around Shen Jiu’s arm with his head resting on the palm of the boy’s hand. Shen Jiu was stroking the top of his head with the tip of an index finger, lightly back and forth. He wasn’t smiling, not really, but there was a lightness to his face that Tianlang-Jun had yet to see. It melted away as Tianlang-jun stepped closer. His gaze whipped up, jaw tightening. Tianlang-Jun smiled as Shen Jiu brought Zhuzhi-lang closer to his chest.
“Nephew, did you make a new friend?” Tianlang-Jun called. Zhuzhi-lang’s head raised. He turned, tongue flicking out to brush along Shen Jiu’s jaw, then he slithered down, crossing back to Tianlang-Jun. Tianglang-Jun bent to pick him up letting him wind up his sleeve before turning back to Shen Jiu.
“Your nephew?” Shen Jiu asked.
“My sister had very strange taste in lovers,” Tianlang-jun shrugged.
Shen Jiu’s brow furrowed, gaze dipping to the sleeve where Zhuzhi-lang disappeared. His lips twisted down and when he looked back at Tianlang-Jun he was on alert.
“There’s blood on your sleeve,” he said.
Tianlang-jun looked down, catching the flash of red on his white inner robe. “Ah, so there is. A-Jiu is as perceptive as ever. Would he like to know where it came from?”
Shen Jiu stared for a long moment, then shook his head. “Your business is your own.”
“It is your business, too.” Tianlang-Jun stepped forward. He reached out to trace the tips of his fingers along the raised line of Shen Jiu’s jaw. To the victor went the spoils. “I killed the cultivator who would have taken you away from here.”
He watched shock rock across Shen Jiu’s features, then Shen Jiu was on his feet, slamming his hands against Tianlang-Jun’s chest and forcing him back.
“Why?! Why would you–” Shen Jiu’s face flushed red. “You’re no better than a beast! What is it that you think you can get from me?”
Tianlang-Jun’s hand darted out to grab Shen Jiu’s wrist before he could strike him again. He pulled him forward, his other hand flicking up to cup Shen Jiu’s jaw. He was so light, so easy to move.
“A-Jiu, I can think of so many things you could give me.” Tianlang-Jun leaned in to purr into Shen Jiu’s ear. “But truthfully, you should be thanking me. Are you so desperate for escape that you would throw yourself to a tiger to avoid the wolf in your house?”
Shen Jiu struggled to free himself, wincing as Tianlang-Jun’s grip tightened. “What do you know of it?” He snapped.
“More than you’d think, A-Jiu. I’ve seen the bruises on you. How far down do they go?”
Even without a strong foundation, Shen Jiu was swift. Tianlang-Jun barely had time to jump away as Shen Jiu’s knee came up to ram him. Shen Jiu stared him down, backing up to put more space between them as he rubbed his wrist.
“So what are you saying? That Wu Yanzi is as bad as where I am now? How could he be, when I would at least be free?”
Tianlang-Jun watched the rage spark through Shen Jiu’s pale green eyes, his mouth twist as he tightened his muscles. He would fight. Tianlang-Jun could see it. Even if he knew he would lose, Shen Jiu would still fight.
Not a young maiden after all then. Not someone he could scoop up and rescue like a hero in a story.
Something else entirely.
When Tianlang-Jun didn’t move, Shen Jiu sneered.
“Pathetic. You don’t know anything do you?” With a final look down his nose, he turned back towards town.
”Wait!” Tianlang-Jun called. He realized his heart was fluttering.
“What?” Shen Jiu stopped but still didn’t turn to look at him. He realized, he really wanted Shen Jiu to look at him.
“I’ll kill him for you, the wolf in your home.”
Shen Jiu did turn this time, leveling an icy stare in Tianlang-Jun’s direction. A single look hadn’t made him feel this small since he was a child.
“I don’t need your help or your pity. Stay away from me.”
He strode away, head held high and back straight, regal even in his cheap robes.
…
Shen Jiu knew enough not to trust others. He’d been forced to learn that lesson early. When it didn’t take, he’d been forced to learn it again. Still, the hope came back. Its roots were deep, carved into his marrow, laying dormant. How long would it be before he purged the hope from his veins? How long before any new flower that burst from those roots would wither and die the way it always had? Better to live without it, than to know what it was like to be on the other side of a door, waiting for someone who was never coming back.
Sometimes he’d feel his heart flutter when Qiu Haitang would pat his hair and tell him to stay with her that night. Feel the spark of that hope when Qiu Jianluo favored him with an amused look instead of a strike of his hand, the feeling that maybe this was the way it would be from now on. Being around Tianlang-jun was not like that. It was not the stalled fear, the moment of peace, the knowledge that the night would pass him by in his bed alone.
Being with Tianlang-Jun felt like he was a bug being examined. Like everything was a test that he somehow kept passing. Tianlang-Jun looked at him with detached amusement, waiting for him to play his part and laughing when the script went awry. Shen Jiu hated the attention. Hated more that he liked the few times the man had gazed at him with that little furrow between his brows. The times the game they were playing fell away and Tianlang-Jun really looked at him.
It was better not to hope. Better to let the roots of it rot inside him. Even if it scarred him, at least without it he’d be free.
No more waiting.
One day soon he would get out. He would get out and never look back.
He was sitting curled beneath his bed. The moon was a bright full circle in his window. He’d ruffled his sheets and cracked the window. Not too much, not enough to make it obvious. But enough to give the implication.
He’d been out that afternoon with Qiu Haitang when he’d seen Qiu Jianluo in town, laughing with his friends. He’d met Shen Jiu’s gaze across the street and his lips curved. It was enough to make his blood run cold. Perhaps, if Qiu Jianluo came looking for him tonight, he’d assume Shen Jiu had snuck out the window and give up. Then he could actually sleep.
A rustling drew his attention. There was a light drop onto the bed, a shift in his sheets, then a quiet thump onto the wood floor. A moment later there was a green snake in front of him. The snake’s clear golden eyes met Shen Jiu’s, a plum blossom obscuring half its little scaled face.
“Hello, Zhuzhi-lang,” Shen Jiu whispered, he held out a hand and the snake dropped the flower onto it. “From your uncle, I imagine.”
The snake nodded its head, tongue flickering out. He’d never been around a snake so intelligent. But then again he’d never really been around a snake at all.
He set the flower aside with a roll of his eyes. What did that man think he was doing? Did he think he could get Shen Jiu’s attention again with a flower? Hardly. He’d meant what he said. He didn’t want to see Tianlang-Jun. It was better that way. He didn’t think he could survive another betrayal, another broken promise. And more than anything, he wanted to survive.
Zhuzhi-lang slithered closer, curling along Shen Jiu’s open palm and then up along his arm. Shen Jiu huffed, feeling his lips twitch up despite himself.
“You should go home to your uncle. Tell him he could send a garden’s worth of flowers and I would still turn him away.”
The snake’s tongue flicked out, tickling his nose. His lips twitched and he swatted at him. Zhuzhi-lang was quick, dodging before settling back exactly where he had been.
“I’m serious? Go back to your uncle. Leave. I don’t have anything to say to him.” He stroked a finger along the snake’s little head, feeling something twist in his gut. He’d been a fool. He should have never let anyone get close to him, especially not a strange man who looked right through him. He had to remember that it was Tianlang-Jun that had taken his only way out. “Go on, it’s not–”
He froze. He heard the floorboards creak. His heart hammered against his chest as he sucked in a breath and held still. Zhuzhi-lang’s head swiveled, following Shen Jiu’s gaze towards the cut of the door visible from under the bed. It slid open, revealing a pair of shoes. There was mud on the soles from the recent rain. Mud that Shen Jiu would be forced to clean off later. If Qiu Jianluo was in a good mood, he’d even give him a cloth to do it.
His jaw clenched, eyes flicking towards Zhuzhi-lang. Qiu Jianluo would crush the snake under his feet if he could. He’d do it in front of Shen Jiu’s face if he thought Shen Jiu cared even a little. He could already feel the familiar rage simmering in his gut. But what could he do? How many times had he fought back and the punishment had just been that much worse? He’d hoped he’d be able to leave with Wu Yanzi, but Tianlang-Jun had crushed that hope. Now Shen Jiu had nowhere to go even if he could escape.
He mouthed the word go at Zhuzhi-lang. The snake’s head shook from one side to the other, tongue flicking out. Stupid. He glared and mouthed go again. Qiu Jianluo’s steps grew closer and Shen Jiu froze. He felt his hairs stand on end as Qiu Jianluo leaned over the bed, inspecting the window. Zhuzhi-lang twisted in a circle then slithered up Shen Jiu’s collar and under his robes, a solid weight around his neck. He felt his eyes burn. The scratching roots in his veins tried to flower with the familiar hope, the weight of not being alone.
Stupid.
When Qiu Jianluo ducked his head under the bed, Shen Jiu didn’t even startle. He’d known the ruse was unlikely even though he’d tried anyway.
Stupid. So stupid.
“There you are,” Qiu Jianluo smiled. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected more from a dog than to cower under the bed. He reached under the small space and Shen Jiu jolted away on instinct. His mind was screaming, torn between lashing out to scratch Qiu Jianluo’s invading arm or to sprint out from under the bed and run.
Before he could make a decision, Qiu Jianluo gripped his ankle and yanked him out. The moonlight cast Qiu Jianluo’s face in sharp contrast, half in shadow, half in dim blue light. He bent over Shen Jiu, pressing a hand to his throat. His fingers squeezed and Shen Jiu grit his teeth so he wouldn’t make a sound. He wanted to kill him. Wanted to rip Qiu Jianluo’s eyes out with his nails, sink his teeth into his throat and tear. He wanted to spear him with the knife he knew Qiu Jianluo had on him. Cut out his heart and feed it to the crows. But fighting had only led to him being hurt. It had taken years before he could suppress the reaction, the instinct to lash out. He had the scars to prove the lesson stuck.
“What’s this?” Qiu Jianluo’s hand came up to squeeze his jaw, fingers pushing against Shen Jiu’s cheeks. “Is there something you want to say to me?”
He knew he was glaring, knew that Qiu Jianluo liked when he got a reaction, but he couldn’t make himself stop.
He hated him.
There was fire spreading low in his chest, searing outwards. His thoughts were burning to ash, vision darkening. His mouth tasted like copper. He felt hollowed out, remade for only one purpose.
He wanted Qiu Jianluo dead.
He started to struggle and Qiu Jianluo sneered,
“Are you starting this again? You’re worse than a beast. You can’t learn.” His grip tightened. There was a slithering feeling around Shen Jiu’s neck, then Zhuzhi-lang was streaking out of Shen Jiu’s robes. His fangs sunk into Qiu Jianluo’s hand, spraying blood. Qiu Jianluo wrenched away, with a screech. He flung the little snake against the wall where Zhuzhi-lang collapsed in a heap.
Shen Jiu stared at the unmoving form then back at Qiu Jianluo. His eyes blurred, then he was throwing himself at the man, tackling him to the floor. They fell in a tangle of limbs. Shen Jiu coughed and spat blood into Qiu Jianluo’s face. His hands clawed into Qiu Jianluo’s hair, slamming him back into the ground. Qiu Jianluo gasped. His eyes were wide, shocked. Shen Jiu wound his arm back and punched him. The blow sent a shockwave up his arm. He felt a crack as Qiu Jianluo’s nose gave under the pressure and blood poured out. Qiu Jianluo’s gaze whipped back to Shen Jiu’s.
“Fuck!” He spat. Shen Jiu wound up to hit him again and Qiu Jianluo caught his wrist. He twisted until pain sliced through Shen Jiu. Qiu Jianluo tumbled them both to the side, reversing their positions. Qiu Jianluo wrenched himself up. His hand whipped into his robe. The knife he extracted was a sharp glint in the moonlight. His grin was vicious. Shen Jiu tried to buck him off but couldn’t avoid the knife. It slammed into his shoulder and he cried out. It burned as it sliced through his skin and soft tendons. Tears welled in his eyes unbidden. But his blood was still boiling, cresting. There was screaming noise in his head, folding into a cacophony of sound.
He would kill Qiu Jianluo.
His fingers slipped in the blood around the knife trying to pull it out. Qiu Jianluo slapped him hard. Stars spun in his vision, the corners darkening. He hissed then Qiu Jianluo’s fingers squeezed around his throat and he couldn’t do more than wheeze. Qiu Jianluo’s free hand grabbed the knife and twisted. The pain was all-consuming. Shen Jiu’s world narrowed to the cut of the knife. His thoughts reshaped, as panic welled in him. His body struggled while his mind screamed at him to run. Qiu Jianluo tsked, leaning forward to press their foreheads together.
“Little A-Jiu thinks he can fight back?” Qiu Jianluo’s voice was calm. A little nasally from his broken nose. “I’ll just have to teach you better.” Qiu Jianluo twisted the knife again and Shen Jiu’s shriek was cut off by the fingers tightening on his throat. “Shh, you’ll wake up Meimei and you know we can’t have that.”
Shen Jiu glared through his watering eyes. He bucked trying to dislodge Qiu Jianluo. He pressed up against the hands on him, forcing down the sharp pain that cracked through him as the knife shifted. He couldn’t breathe but in the moment, he didn’t care. He’d kill Qiu Jianluo even if it meant dying with him.
As if through a long cave, he heard the sound of the door open. A smooth voice curled through the air like the speaker was smiling.
“Oh, what’s this? There’s no wolf here, only a little spoiled dog.”
A hard thump echoed through the quiet room as Qiu Jianluo was flung off him. Shen Jiu sucked in a breath. His shoulder burned, the pain pulsing through him as tears welled up and fell down his cheeks.
“A-Jiu, no crying.”
He was pulled to a sitting position, supported by a broad chest. He tilted his head back to see Tianlang-Jun smiling at him. The gaze was soft as was his touch when Tianlang-Jun brushed underneath his eye. It hurt to be looked at like that. It sliced through his mind, freezing his heart. No one looked at him like that. Not since Qi-ge and Qi-ge had never returned.
Tianlang-Jun leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead, when he pulled back there was a glowing mark just above his brows.
“You’re a demon,” Shen Jiu rasped. His throat hurt when he spoke, crackling down his veins. He was not as surprised as he thought he should be.
“Yes,” Tianlang-Jun shrugged. “Have you changed your mind? Do you want me to kill your spoiled little dog?”
“No.” Shen Jiu coughed, his mouth tasted like copper. He realized he was shivering as the pain rumbled through him. His body was sluggish, breathing ragged. “I’m going to. I’m going to kill him.”
Tianlang-Jun’s answering grin was all teeth. “Allow me to help you, darling A-Jiu.” He bit his own lip until blood overflowed the side of his teeth and streaked down his chin. He leaned in and kissed Shen Jiu. The warmth of his blood slid down the back of Shen Jiu’s throat as his fingers curled up around the back of his head, carding through the strands of his hair. Shen Jiu whimpered. He didn’t think he’d ever once been kissed so gently.
When Tianlang-Jun pulled away he pressed another kiss to Shen Jiu’s forehead. “There we go. Let me take care of this.”
Shen Jiu winced as he felt something crawl beneath his skin, but soon the pain ebbed away and he sunk heavy into Tianlang-Jun’s arms. He was warm all over. The pulses of pain in his shoulder lessened bit by bit until there was only a lingering ache. He felt so tired, it would be so easy to slip into the quiet waiting dark, to sleep. There was a slapping sound like a hand against wood and his eyes slid to Qiu Jianluo. He was pressing himself up off the floor. Their gaze caught and Shen Jiu felt like he was burning again. Rage seared out his thoughts as he struggled to free himself.
He was going to kill him.
He would pay back every wrong against him.
Tianlang-Jun’s laughter echoed through the room. He lifted Shen Jiu to his feet, then placed him on the ground. Shen Jiu wavered, the memory of the pain still weighing him down. He tilted, back against Tianlang-Jun’s chest. Tianlang-Jun threaded their fingers together, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles, then used his other hand to wrap Shen Jiu’s fingers around a sword. Qiu Jianluo looked up at the two of them then at the sword, glinting in the moonlight. Shen Jiu watched his throat bob.
“Well,” Shen Jiu cocked his head. His heart was a slow cold beat. Tianlang-Jun’s hand was hot around his waist, a solid weight at his back. “Aren’t you going to beg?”
Qiu Jianluo’s face contorted, mouth twisting and jaw tightening. “Beast!”
“Yes,” Shen Jiu agreed. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
The sword was an easy weight in his hand. The edge paper-thin. It whistled as it arched, slicing through air and flesh the same. Qiu Jianluo’s blood sprayed the wall and the bed. His face was a mask of shock, brows raised as he hit the floor. He tried to speak but only gurgles came out, blood pouring from his lips. He looked up at Shen Jiu like he couldn’t understand why Shen Jiu would have done such a thing. Then his gaze went hazy and he was gone.
Shen Jiu wondered how he could have died so easily.
Tianlang-Jun gently pried the sword from Shen Jiu’s grip, setting it aside as he spun him around. His hands came up to cup Shen Jiu’s cheeks, thumb stroking along the surface.
“A-Jiu.” His voice was a low hum, his gaze so soft. “Cold and beautiful A-Jiu. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before.”
Shen Jiu stared up into his warm eyes and thought that he hadn’t either. His heart was thumping. He felt worn down to the tips of his toes. But there was something sparking in his chest, worming its way through his bones, sliding deep into the marrow.
“Come with me,” Tianlang-Jun said.
Shen Jiu turned to look at his room. The blood-soaked sheets. Qiu Jianluo’s cooling body. For a moment he thought of Qiu Haitang. Stupid, kind, Qiu Haitang. She would scream when she saw this, collapse to the floor as she cried. He waited to feel something but nothing came. His mind was like a closed door, turning the thought of her grief away.
“A-Jiu,” Tianlang-Jun pushed their foreheads together again. “Darling A-Jiu.”
“Yes.” When Shen Jiu spoke his voice came from somewhere far away. But it was so easy to sink into the warm weight of Tianlang-Jun’s regard. “I’ll come with you.”
Tianlang-Jun blinked, then his smile cut across his face and he was kissing Shen Jiu again.
…
Tianlang-Jun had a book half-open in his lap as he watched the seamstress hold bolts of silk up for Shen Jiu’s inspection. Shen Jiu stared down at them like he’d been draped in only the finest fabrics all his life and these did not measure up. He rejected one after another until he got to one as pale green as his eyes.
“This lord thinks that would look especially lovely on his A-Jiu.” Tianlang-Jun hummed.
Shen Jiu’s gaze cut to him, lips curved down as he cocked a brow. He turned back to the seamstress.
“Fine, this one will do. The rest will not. I trust you have something else?”
The seamstress nodded, setting the bolt of green silk to the side as she retreated through a side door to see if there was anything else that might please Shen Jiu. Tianlang-Jun couldn’t resist that annoyed pout any longer. He crossed the distance between them and scooped Shen Jiu into his arms, sitting them back down with Shen Jiu curled warm in his lap.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Shen Jiu sneered at him. The look sent a pleasant shiver down his spine. One day soon, he’d drape Shen Jiu in red and marry him. And when Shen Jiu was ready, he’d erase any trace of Qiu Jianluo from his body.
“A-Jiu, don’t you know? Going to have clothes fitted is one of the most romantic things a couple can do together. Now while our dear seamstress is away, perhaps we can reenact the scene from The Artist’s Secret Letters and–”
Shen Jiu smacked his hand away from where it was sliding lower down his waist.
“A-Jiu! You wound me!” Tianlang-Jun cried out. Shen Jiu rolled his eyes.
“You’ll live.”
The door slid open but it was not the seamstress this time. Shen Jiu looked over with a furrowed brow.
“Ah! Nephew, good timing.” Tianlang-Jun smiled. “Did you find the book I asked you about? I was just telling A-Jiu about how it had a very similar setting to where we are now.”
“Forgive this one Junshang, but it was sold out.” Zhuzhi-lang bowed his head.
“Nephew? Nephew?!” Shen Jiu whipped his head back and forth between Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-lang. “Your nephew is a little snake!”
Tianlang-Jun blinked. “Oh, right. Yes he is sometimes. It was easier when we were in town for him to just ride around in my robes. You know how it is?”
“I do not know how it is!” Shen Jiu glared at him, then turned that glare on Zhuzhi-lang. Zhuzhi-lang took a step back, hands held up in front of him.
“Shen-gongzi, please allow me to–”
“You– You–” Shen Jiu jumped to his feet. “You were in my robes! You licked my face! You–”
Tianlang-Jun rose to his feet and reached out to tug Shen Jiu back by his waist.
“A-Jiu, don’t be angry. My nephew likes you quite a lot. You’re going to make him sad.” After all, Zhuzhi-lang did look pitiful with those downturned eyes and curled shoulders. Shen Jiu huffed.
“You’re not allowed to do that anymore.” He crossed his arms, letting Tianlang-Jun pull him back against his chest. “To climb in my robes. What’s wrong with you?”
Zhuzhi-lang ducked his head. “I really am sorry Shen-gongzi, but you were just,” he trailed off.
“Just what?”
“Well, Shen-gongzi is very warm. He was comfortable to lay on.”
Tianlang-Jun could feel Shen Jiu’s muscles tighten. He watched Shen Jiu’s fingers curl into fists, his ears flush pink. As he geared up for a fall into embarrassed rage, Tianlang-Jun couldn’t help himself. He bent and scooped Shen Jiu back into his arms, and kissed him.