Chapter Text
The demon realm wasn’t known for its scholarly pursuits. Their bloodthirsty rage? Sure. Their martial prowess? They were the best, and everyone knew it. But literature? Mobei Jun wasn’t sure if most of his subjects could even read.
So, when little red books started popping up throughout his court, Mobei Jun took notice.
“What’s this?” he asked, grabbing one of the books from a lizard demon who’d been too engrossed in his reading to notice Mobei Jun’s approach.
The book was grimier and more cheaply made than what Mobei Jun was used to. It had clearly been passed from demon to demon for a while, its pages dog-eared and its cover creased and stained with miscellaneous liquids. There were even flecks of blood on it--though from a reader or a reader’s meal, it was impossible to tell.
The demon he’d taken it from hissed and made an automatic, ill-advised move to grab it back. One look at Mobei Jun’s face though, and he froze, then shrank back until he was practically huddled against the hallway wall.
“Well?” Mobei Jun demanded.
“It’s a book,” said the demon, shaking.
“I noticed,” said Mobei Jun. “And?”
“It’s a good book?”
It wasn’t clear whether fear was making the demon stupid or if he had been born that way. There was a high possibility both were true.
The Mobei Jun of five years ago might have beaten the demon until he got the information he needed. Today’s Mobei Jun was different though. Shang Qinghua had whined extensively about how incapacitated servants did shoddy work, and how difficult it was to find good staff, and how much time and resources were being wasted on training replacements, until Mobei Jun had mostly stopped the violence just to get him to shut up about it. He’d been concerned that the lack of violence would make him look weak, but things had been running smoother since then. His kitchen was producing food that met his expectations more often than not--“Which is what happens when you tell the chefs how you’d prefer your meals instead of just ripping their arms off when they get it wrong,” Shang Qinghua had said--and there had been fewer uprising attempts.
So instead of beating the irritating demon into a pulp, as fun and cathartic as that would have been, Mobei Jun took a deep breath and tried to recall the manual Shang Qinghua had given him about positive reinforcement in the workplace.
“Tell me what the book is about,” he commanded.
According to the workplace manual, expressing interest in the underling’s hobby should have been a good conversation starter, making him feel valued as an individual and putting his mind at ease. Instead, the demon started shaking harder.
Mobei Jun growled in frustration. This proved to be too much for the demon, who passed out, curling into a sad little lizard ball at Mobei Jun’s feet.
Mobei Jun cursed. Worthless demon. Worthless workplace manual.
He pocketed the little red book for later inspection and stepped over the demon’s body. If this was the sort of staff that positive reinforcement was meant to keep around, maybe he should bring the beatings back.
Later that day there was a minor assassination attempt by one of his more incompetent generals. It didn’t amount to anything more than a sprained wrist (him) and a mess for the cleaning crew to worry about (the general), but it did effectively distract him from the book he’d picked up earlier. It wasn’t until he saw a whole row of the red books sitting on Shang Qinghua’s shelf that he remembered it.
“There’s more than one?” he asked, interrupting Shang Qinghua’s rant about water sanitation.
“More than one of what?” Shang Qinghua followed Mobei Jun’s gaze, then grimaced when he saw the books that Mobei Jun was looking at. “Oh. Those. Yes, there’s a whole series. Not worth your time though, my King.”
“They’re very popular.”
“Only because they appeal to the lowest common denominator. No, don’t even sully your hands by picking them up!” Shang Qinghua moved to block Mobei Jun from reaching the shelf. “Seriously! They’re so bad! I only buy them so that I’m up to date on what the staff pickles their brains in. And also so I have extra kindling for the fire. How about these--they’re much more suitable!”
Mobei Jun found his hands stuffed full of books on poetry and history, and before he could ask any more questions, he found the conversation forcibly steered back to the logistics of cleaning up their water supply.
A few hours later, when he entered Shang Qinghua’s office again, the red books were nowhere to be seen. The pile of ash in the fireplace was rather large though, so perhaps he’d been telling the truth about using them as kindling.
It wasn’t until almost a month later that he finally was able to find a free hour to sit down and investigate the book.
The number on the cover marked it as the first volume--the first of many, if the shelf in Shang Qinghua’s office was any indication. There were little white flowers patterned into the red, and if it hadn’t been for all the stains, it might even have been called pretty.
Mobei Jun flipped to the first page and started reading.
An hour later he cancelled all his meetings for the evening.
Two hours later he cancelled all his meetings for the next day.
Ten hours later, at 3 in the morning, he finished volume one. He didn’t have volume two, but he knew who would.
The bookseller was in the human realm, but the length of the trip was crossed in an instant as Mobei Jun stepped through a shadowy portal, disappearing from his room and reappearing in a bedroom above a bookshop.
Mobei Jun hadn’t ever dealt with the owner of the shop in person--Shang Qinghua handled most of his purchases--but according to the purchase receipts, most of the higher-quality books in his library had come from here. This shop supposedly had a wider collection than any other single shop, with rare manuscripts from all corners of both the human and demon realms.
“I want a book,” said Mobei Jun. He waited a moment to see if the merchant and his wife would stop screaming, and then repeated himself, a little louder this time to be heard over the racket.
He was unsuccessful.
The merchant trembled and threw himself onto the ground in front of Mobei Jun while his wife wept in fear in the far corner of the room. “Please, great demon. Spare my life. I’ll do anything,” he said. “Or if you need my life, spare my wife’s. She’s pregnant, and-”
“A book,” said Mobei Jun again.
The man paused. “A book?”
“A book.”
It was possible that the merchant hadn’t realized who Shang Qinghua had been buying books for, Mobei Jun conceded, watching as the man’s mouth flapped open and shut a few times. It was clear he hadn’t expected a demon like Mobei Jun to read. Mobei Jun generously gave him a few moments to collect himself.
“What book do you want? You can have any of them! All of them! I have tomes on poison, or war, or cultivation. There’s even a few forbidden scrolls on the secret arts of-”
“I want more of these.” Mobei Jun held out the red book.
The merchant blinked at the book. “Is that...Winter Immortal Demon’s Way?”
Mobei Jun shrugged. There hadn’t been a title.
“I...er, yes. We usually don’t carry...well... those sorts of books. But don’t worry!” the merchant said hurriedly as Mobei Jun started to frown. “We had a few other customers express interest in it, so we do have a few copies…”
He led Mobei Jun down a staircase to the main shop and then hurried off into a back room, leaving Mobei Jun to wonder what he’d meant by “those sorts of books". Looking around, most of the shelves did seem a bit stuffy, full of academic studies, poems, maps, those sorts of things. An adventure book like Mobei Jun was holding didn’t exactly fit in.
Luckily the merchant kept the fun books in stock, if not on display, and he quickly returned with two new volumes for Mobei Jun. These books were of a quality more like what Mobei Jun was used to, with crisp pages and finely crafted covers. Although the materials were worlds apart from the ratty book Mobei Jun had brought in, they were instantly recognizable as the same series by their bright red, flowery covers.
Mobei Jun took the books from the man and tossed him a sack of money in return. How much money, he wasn’t sure--he never could keep track of human currency--but it was enough to make the merchant’s eyes go round. Which meant that it would also probably be enough to make Shang Qinghua have a heart attack, but there was no helping that now.
“There are more books in the series than this,” Mobei Jun said.
“Yes, over twenty in total now, I believe. We don’t have them in stock currently, but-”
“You’ll get them.” Mobei Jun said.
“Of course, my lord!”
“And you’ll make sure the new volumes get the names right.”
“My lord?”
Mobei Jun passed over a sheet of paper. “This is what the characters’ names should be. Fix it.”
“We only distribute the books. We don’t print them here, but-”
Mobei Jun glared at the man.
The bookseller swallowed and nodded. “The new books will have the correct names, of course.”
“I’ll be back for them,” said Mobei Jun. Normally he’d have Shang Qinghua run minor errands like this, but Mobei Jun remembered the look on his face when he’d been talking about how stupid he thought the books were.
He wasn’t sure he could stomach Shang Qinghua looking at him like that.
The main character of the book wasn’t named Mobei Jun, but he might as well have been.
His name was Bo Xiao, and he started off volume one as a sweet, precocious little ice demon with big eyes and an even bigger heart. As the heir to the throne his life should have been cushy, but a distant father, dead mother, and treacherous uncle made for a cold and unwelcoming homelife. Combine that with the deadly intrigue of court politics--and with no one but said treacherous uncle to guide him through it--and his existence was far more difficult than if he’d been born a commoner.
Despite this he was trusting and compassionate, and--Mobei Jun was forced to admit--downright adorable. Not necessarily qualities Mobei Jun wanted associated with his own story. No demon could afford to be seen as weak, and that went double for demon kings.
But the author, whoever they were (the author inscription of “Grand Sword Ascending” was surely a pseudonym--at least, Mobei Jun hoped it was) had perfected the art of hooking their readers. Mobei Jun had found himself gripping the pages hard enough to tear them as the treacherous uncle toyed with young Bo Xiao. At only four years old, Bo Xiao took the abuse in stride, toddling happily after his uncle with the loyalty of a beaten dog who’d never known anything better, and lapping up the only affection he’d ever been given with a desperation that made Mobei Jun grind his teeth.
And then the uncle lured Bo Xiao into the human realm on another of his ‘pranks’.
The rain in the human realm was soft and warm, and unlike anything Bo Xiao had ever seen before. It wasn’t caustic like the rain in the acid swamps, or boiling like the rain in the lava planes, or solid snow and ice like in the northern desert. He laughed as it gently pattered on his horns and ran down into his eyes.
“It tickles!” he said, trying to catch some in his hands. He was able to form a little puddle in his palms, but it trickled through his fingers before he could take a closer look at it. “Is it safe to drink?”
“Only one way to find out,” said his uncle. “Try it, and if you die, I’ll know to avoid it in the future.”
His uncle’s mouth was curled up in a parody of a smile. Any adult would have been instantly on their guard, but Bo Xiao only giggled.
"Oh! Look, a horse! But where are its horns? And why doesn’t it have a barbed tail?” Bo Xiao, with the excitement and attention span of the very young, immediately forgot about the water and instead bounded towards an oncoming carriage.
The carriage was fancy, with gold gilded edges and expensive looking yellow curtains. To Bo Xiao, who’d only ever known the luxury of a royal life, there was nothing remarkable about these details. His uncle, however, looked at the quality of the carriage and the insignia on its side and grinned--a real grin this time, though no less menacing for its sincerity.
“Have fun with the human cultivators,” he said, taking a step back and opening a portal back home.
Bo Xiao paused. “But I thought human cultivators were bad?”
“Only one way to find out.”
Bo Xiao watched with wide eyes as his uncle hopped back through the portal and waved goodbye. On instinct, he waved back. His uncle’s laughter rang through the air for a moment before it was abruptly cut off by the portal’s closing.
A bad feeling started to form in Bo Xiao’s gut. “Uncle?” he called.
“A demon!” a voice yelled from behind him, and Bo Xiao turned to see an elegant figure rip aside the carriage’s curtains and stride towards him, sword drawn. It had to be a human--smaller than a normal ice demon, but bigger than the young Bo Xiao. Bigger, and stronger, and smiling in a way that reminded Bo Xiao of his uncle’s smiles when he was about to pull a prank.
Something told him that this human wasn’t planning a prank.
“Uncle?” Bo Xiao called again, louder this time.
“It’s just a child,” said a second human, coming out of the carriage to stand beside the first. She surveyed him coldly, then nodded, seemingly pleased. “Practically helpless. This should be easy then.”
She pulled her sword as well, and both the humans began to advance.
Bo Xiao ran. He didn’t call out for his uncle again. He didn’t want to give away his position and he was beginning to suspect that his uncle wasn’t going to answer.
It was at this point that Mobei Jun had gripped the book hard enough to rip through a few of the pages. And since the pages were already damaged, he’d figured he might as well pull them out and shred them completely. No point in doing the job half-way.
The author didn’t pull any punches in the following chapters, either. For the first time in his pampered life, Bo Xiao experienced hunger, thirst, and exhaustion. There was no time to rest while he was being hunted. Every house or haven that he might have sheltered in turned him away, the humans all snarling and yelling and brandishing weapons.
When Mobei Jun looked back at that time, he remembered the humiliation the most. The Huan Hua disciples didn’t hunt him like he was a threat--instead, they toyed with him like a cat playing with its meal. The author cast a different light on things, though. Their writing painted Bo Xiao as resilient--heroic, even--facing his enemies with courage although he was outclassed, and valiantly refusing to give up even when things seemed hopeless.
It was...nice, reading that. Comforting, even.
It wasn’t uncommon for Mobei Jun to have nightmares of his time being hunted through the human realm. However, the next time he slept--which was around noon when he could no longer keep his eyes open to continue reading--the cultivators were unable to make him cower, and when he woke that evening he felt well rested.
As gripping as the books were, Mobei Jun could only shirk his responsibilities to read them for so long before reality caught back up.
“Do I need to call a doctor?” Shang Qinghua called from outside his door. “If it’s really bad I can get some demons to kidnap Mu Qingfang for you. Or-”
“I’m fine,” snapped Mobei Jun.
He wasn’t fine. He was in the middle of the next volume, whose events had started off fairly true to life, with his father finally noticing he was missing and coming to get him. His father had then dropped him off back in his room with barely more than a cursory glance.
“Enough. Play nice with your uncle,” his father said, cutting off Bo Xiao as he tried to tell his father how he’d been betrayed.
“But he almost killed me,” said Bo Xiao. There were tears in his eyes, though more from anger than from sadness. He scrubbed them away quickly, but his father had already seen them.
His father frowned, clearly irritated. “Then don’t be so weak.”
The injustice of it burned just as much in the retelling as it had when Mobei Jun had first experienced it.
Bo Xiao was different upon his return--quieter, more reserved, and less prone to smiling. He’d experienced betrayal and now he looked for it everywhere. And with demon court politics, there was plenty to find.
After that the author began to branch out, coming up with political intrigue and court machinations that had never happened, but felt so true to life that they might as well have. In the chapter he was currently reading, Bo Xiao’s uncle had collaborated with the southern snake demon tribe to set a trap that would kill Bo Xiao while on a diplomatic hunting trip. Although Bo Xiao had escaped with only minor injuries, his father was still disappointed, claiming that he’d embarrassed the family with his clumsiness.
None of this had actually happened, of course, but it was something his uncle would have done, and his father’s response was so in-character that Mobei Jun could hear his voice spitting out the dialogue.
He’d thrown the book across the room. Twice.
Each time he’d gone to retrieve it and had continued reading.
“If you’re fine, can you come out?” said Shang Qinghua.
“No.” Bo Xiao was about to confront his uncle. Mobei Jun had to see how it would play out.
“Is there a reason why you can’t come out?”
“No.”
“Okay. Alright. Only, you see, the leader of the succubus clan arrived yesterday, and since you didn’t show up at her arrival banquet and have refused to see her, she’s a bit upset. And by a bit upset, I mean she’s threatening war, and she’s probably bluffing? But…”
Mobei Jun slammed down the book.
“Fine. I’ll come out.”
Shang Qinghua’s face when he opened the door was equal parts relieved and confused.
“Are you sure you’re not sick?” he asked, dogging Mobei Jun’s heels as he stormed towards the throne room.
Mobei Jun grunted.
“Well, okay, good to hear it. I’ll just be, you know, in my office, doing stuff…”
Shang Qinghua grinned nervously, then scampered off down a side corridor.
The leader of the succubus clan must be in a particularly bad mood if Shang Qinghua was dodging his court duties to avoid her. Mobei Jun supposed that, as a human with no demonic title to his name, it probably had been difficult--dangerous, even--for him to manage diplomatic relations with her while Mobei Jun had been reading.
He felt a pang of guilt but brushed it aside as he entered the court. The succubus leader was going to require his full attention if he wanted to fix this before things spiraled into another war.
Not that he’d particularly mind a war. Honestly, it’d be nice to get outside, enjoy some fresh air, meet some new demons, and kill them, but wars made Shang Qinghua nervous. Something about “all the blood and guts” and “the terror of imminent death”, which was odd because those were the best parts.
Mobei Jun shook his head. Humans were strange.
He was almost disappointed when he entered his throne room and found the succubus leader chatting cheerfully with some nobles, seeming very relaxed for someone who was supposedly threatening war.
It took a second for the court to register his presence. When it did, a hush spread through the room, and the succubus turned from her conversation to face him.
And then she smiled.
It wasn’t the seductive smile of a succubus about to attack, nor the sly smile of a demon about to cause mischief. If Mobei Jun was forced to describe it, he’d say it looked...excited. Happy, even.
Mobei Jun paused, unnerved.
‘Happy’ was not a look Mobei Jun was used to seeing directed at him, at least not from a clan leader. He provided military support to protect the desert clans, and he acted as an arbiter in inter-clan disputes, but at the end of the day they were fiercely independent, resented having to pay his taxes, and wanted the crown for themselves.
This was normal and to be expected. Part of his job was periodically proving that he was strong enough to quell any uprisings. If he couldn’t control his own subjects, he certainly couldn’t protect them from outside dangers, and anyone who was powerful enough to defeat him was clearly more suited to his job.
But, to his disappointment, the succubi leader didn’t look like she was planning an uprising. She started towards him as soon as he made eye contact, and although she was dressed for seduction in the standard gauzy silk and strategic puffs of fur that northern desert succubi favored, she wasn’t walking with the exaggerated hip swing of someone looking to conjure thoughts of sex.
If anything, her walk conjured memories of watching Shang Qinghua approaching new stationary supplies. It was hurried, a bit predatory, and very bouncy--in an energetic puppy way, not a sexy way.
“Er,” said Mobei Jun.
The succubus leader saluted, bowing lower and for longer than strictly necessary. When she straightened up, her cheeks were flushed in excitement.
“My King,” she said. “I’m glad we’re finally able to meet.” She sounded like she meant it.
Mobei Jun blinked at her. His previous dealing with her clan had been done with her predecessor--a predecessor that Mobei Jun had beheaded after she’d tried to stab him with a poison blade.
Either her disciple didn’t hold a grudge, or she was doing an excellent job of hiding it.
Mobei Jun thought back to the intelligence reports Shang Qinghua had given him on the clan’s recent political situation. If he remembered correctly, the current leader should be named… “Clan leader Meng Lai,” he said, nodding.
“Please, call me Lai Lai.”
Mobei Jun frowned suspiciously at her. “Alright. Clan Leader Lai Lai,” he said. “I heard you were upset about the delay. It was unavoidable. I was...busy.”
Lai Lai smiled, apparently unconcerned with his lack of hospitality. “Of course! And I apologize for any loss of temper on my part. I can be impatient when I’m excited, but thankfully Shang Qinghua has been taking care of my needs. I have to say, you have quite the advisor. He’s truly incredible.”
“He is,” Mobei Jun admitted slowly. She was right, of course, but usually other demons weren’t able to see Shang Qinghua’s qualities, instead dismissing him for his physical weaknesses.
He wanted other demons to give Shang Qinghua the respect he deserved, but he wasn’t sure he liked the gleam in Lai Lai’s eyes. He was beginning to suspect that Shang Qinghua was avoiding the succubus leader for other reasons than just fear of war.
“Where is Shang Qinghua, by the way?” she said. “I’d been hoping...well. Never mind. I’m sure I'll see him later.”
“He’s busy.”
She pouted. “I guess I’ll just have to wait, then.”
“He’s very busy. I’ll have another servant attend you.”
The pout began to curl into a frown. “I’m in no hurry.”
“You have a clan to run.”
“It’ll survive a couple days without me.”
Mobei Jun glared at her. Whatever her game was, he didn’t have the patience for it. “What do you want with him?”
“Nothing!”
“Good. Then stop talking about him.”
Lai Lai’s eyes began to glow in anger. Mobei Jun dropped the temperature of the room a few degrees as a warning before he pushed his way past her to his throne. The other demons of the court, who had been gathered close to hear any juicy gossip, quickly scattered to the sides of the room out of range of any collateral damage should things come to blows.
“Now,” he said, sitting down, “tell me why you’re here.”
“Can’t a subject just want to bask in her King’s presence?”
“No.”
Lai Lai pouted again. “Fine, have it your way.”
Mobei Jun was expecting her to list complaints about Shang Qinghua’s new tax code. Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d be here to file a grievance against a neighboring clan, and he’d get to knock some people around to sort it out.
But Lai Lai didn’t complain. Instead, she looked embarrassed--an emotion Mobei Jun hadn’t even known succubi were capable of.
“Well,” she said. “You see. It’s...well.”
“Yes?” snapped Mobei Jun.
“Only...I was hoping to get your signature?”
“You want me to sign a contract?”
“No, it’s nothing like that!” Lai Lai reached into her sleeve, then pulled out a familiar red book. “It’s just that you’re my favorite character!”
Shang Qinghua had already signed the book because, according to Lai Lai, “His character is the best--after my King’s, of course.”
Lai Lai had also collected half a dozen other signatures from demons whose fictional counterparts had appeared in the novels, including one illegible scrawl that looked suspiciously like his uncle’s name. Mobei Jun tried not to think too hard about that as he dipped his brush into the ink and wrote his name next to the others.
Lai Lai was practically vibrating. She kept shifting from foot to foot, and when he handed the book back, she squealed a bit.
They were currently in a side chamber that served as Mobei Jun’s office. He’d pulled her in there alone with the excuse of needing his writing supplies, but he also needed to ask her questions away from the prying eyes and ears of the court.
There had been an audible, room-wide gasp when she’d pulled out the book, which meant this series was far more widely spread than Mobei Jun had believed.
“Do you know who the author is?” he asked her.
She was hugging the book now, her eyes shining suspiciously. She blinked at his question, then shook her head regretfully. “If I knew, I’d have gotten their signature, too.”
“When did you first hear about the series?”
“A few months ago. One of my sisters pulled it off a corpse of one of the wolf demons. We’re at war with them again, by the way.”
“You’re what? Why-”
“And after she started reading it, she just knew she had to bring it back to the clan! Of course, then we all got hooked, and--well. Everyone knew immediately who the characters really were. But we weren’t certain…”
She trailed off, biting her lip.
“Yes?” said Mobei Jun.
“It’s just...is it real? Did the stuff in the stories actually happen?”
It was difficult to admit weakness, even past weakness, to another demon. But Lai Lai’s eyes were so full of awe that Mobei Jun found himself reluctantly nodding.
“Really? Even the adventure where you and Shang Qinghua fought the void vines?”
If the books covered that, then they must almost be caught up to present day events. It hadn’t been that long ago that they’d had to save one of the villages on the fringes of Mobei Jun’s territory from an infestation of carnivorous void creatures.
Mobei Jun nodded again.
“Wow,” she said. “That’s...wow. You’re incredible. Both you and Shang Qinghua. Truly, you two are an inspiration to my clan.”
The book had been rather flattering in his character depiction. Mobei Jun was glad to hear it had been kind to Shang Qinghua as well.
Still. He didn’t need the whole demon world reading about him shivering under a bush in the human realm, crying from hunger and a broken heart.
“You’ll understand that I don’t want that information spreading,” he said.
“Of course!” she said, smiling. “I won’t tell a soul!”
Within a week, everyone knew.
Part of that was Mobei Jun’s fault--he should have instructed Lai Lai to put the book away before exiting the chamber. If it hadn’t been visible, the nobles might have interpreted the afternoon’s situation as one where he’d pulled her aside to reprimand her for having it. Instead, she’d walked out holding it like it was her first born, and the whole court had taken that as Mobei Jun’s stamp of approval on the series.
As for the new rumors sweeping around the castle that it was all true...well, Mobei Jun blamed Lai Lai’s loose tongue for that. He’d been forced to play host to her for another week while he worked out the dispute between her and the wolf clan, and she’d spent all of her time that wasn’t in diplomatic negotiations either giggling in corners with other demons or chasing after Shang Qinghua.
Shang Qinghua had responded by cowering in fear in Mobei Jun’s room.
“She’s not going to hurt you,” Mobei Jun said after finding Shang Qinghua holed up in Mobei Jun’s private office again.
Shang Qinghua had been there for three days straight, and judging by the cozy nest he’d built for himself, he wasn’t moving anytime soon. He’d scooted the desk close to the fire and bundled himself up in a large, fluffy pile of Mobei Jun’s furs. Several bowls of melon seeds lay within easy reach, along with two enormous stacks of paperwork that he was currently working his way through.
By all rights Mobei Jun should have kicked him out of the room and beaten him for the presumption of wearing his King’s clothes. But things had been different ever since Mobei Jun had made him noodles over a year ago. Shang Qinghua had been taking more and more liberties and Mobei Jun had found himself letting it happen. No, more than letting it happen—looking forward to it.
Even as a child, his nannies and playmates kept a respectful distance. It was...nice, somehow, having someone who ignored propriety’s boundaries and crowded in close.
Plus, seeing Shang Qinghua wear Mobei Jun’s clothes didn’t bother him as much as it probably should have.
Shang Qinghua barely looked up from his work when he heard Mobei Jun enter. “You don’t know that for sure,” he said, stuffing a few more melon seeds absentmindedly into his mouth and flipping to the next page. “You haven’t seen how she looks at me. She looks hungry, my King.”
“She likes you,” Mobei Jun said.
“Sure, as a snack, maybe.”
Mobei Jun shrugged. He found himself reluctant to clear up any misunderstanding there might be between Shang Qinghua and Lai Lai. Even if her interests in him were purely romantic and not predatory, Mobei Jun didn’t like the thought of them getting together.
A good friend probably would have done everything in his power to give Shang Qinghua a chance to experience what sex was like with a friendly succubus, but Mobei Jun had never claimed to be good. Instead, he took off the fur coat he was wearing, added it to Shang Qinghua’s nest, and let him stay hidden away in the royal suite for the rest of the week.