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The ripples that Maigu Ridge set in motion were slow to settle.
There were the broad strokes: the near-merger of the Realms, Luo Binghe's official takeover of Huan Hua Palace and ousting of their Little Palace Mistress, the whispers and endless finger pointing of who should take responsibility for the damages and loss of life. Those could be ignored— or at least ironed out with an official story and the passage of time.
The more detailed strokes of Cang Qiong's secular ripples had to be navigated more carefully to avoid their growth into a tidal wave capable of breeding generations of resentment. Shen Qingqiu was still unconscious, but recovering under Qian Cao's attentive care. Bai Zhan had set up patrols around the peaks to keep unauthorized visitors out. Liu Qingge specifically roamed the airspace of the sect in a tight patrol grid to keep an eagle-eyed watch out for notably unauthorized former residents— namely one 'upstart' demon lord. Updates to An Ding's reports had come in nearly every shichen in the first few days, piling high on a corner of Yue Qingyuan's desk until they collapsed like an avalanche across it.
Thankfully the influx of reports had slowed to a more reasonable trickle once Shang Qinghua had mysteriously reappeared on his peak a fortnight after the rest of the peak lords returned to the sect. Any questions about the wayward peak lord's whereabouts and continued associations had been tabled until the most pressing crises were handled.
The ripples felt in Yue Qingyuan's personal life were mostly ignored in favor of more wide reaching matters. Whatever disquiet he felt could be shoved into dark corners until he was less busy or it was forgotten in place of new concerns. Personal plights paled in comparison to sect matters; they had to in order for him to lead as he should.
Dwelling on things was reserved for the quiet hours of the night when sleep eluded Yue Qingyuan. He wasn't alone in that. From the window of his leisure house on the highest peak, he watched the points of light on the other peaks shift until the hazy blue of predawn called him back to task. He stood vigil over the lives in his care who were still too on edge to sleep until the late hours of the night, those who woke from memories of roiling red skies to sit restlessly by candle light, and the roaming patrols of young men and women who had seen their idyllic peace shattered by demons again and again. The upcoming generation had known more than its share of hardships and it showed in each uneasy trawl of the moon. Each lamp lit and extinguished kept Yue Qingyuan company as he tried to untangle his own thoughts on the events of the ridge.
Thinking about it was mortifying and there were only so many pillows he could scream into at a suitable volume to be cathartic without drawing panicked disciples or Hall Masters to his door.
Not only had he lapsed in control, he'd lapsed in judgment. It was understandable that Yue Qingyuan's survival instincts had kicked in to feed after he'd foolishly over-estimated his neglected limits and control. It was equally reprehensible that he'd taken advantage of an injured man pinned down by rubble and not only drank more than he strictly needed to survive but had also degraded his victim to slake his own selfish lust. To his further shame, Yue Qingyuan had fled before he'd had to face the likely reality that the man he'd pushed down, in more ways than one, had not survived. While his experience with direct predation on a sentient person was limited, it was common knowledge that having one's throat ripped open was generally fatal. And Yue Qingyuan had left him there— too spineless to face a corpse sullied with their shared spend— nameless and shamefully exposed for the retrieval crews to tend to. He hoped that whoever had found the body had offered the man more dignity than Yue Qingyuan had.
He'd handled the whole situation badly, barely slowing to believable speeds for a typical cultivator once he was within sight of the tent city at the base of the mountain. The portion blazoned with Cang Qiong's colors had tucked itself firmly on the strip of land bisecting the river, forcing the other sects to crowd along the banks like spectators. Qian Cao had set up shop in the center of the camp with people flooding in and out in a buzz of activity. The guards who had come forward at Yue Qingyuan's approach to camp blanched at his appearance and had hustled him through the crowd directly to Mu Qingfang's elbow. Still dazed and out of sorts, Yue Qingyuan didn't understand why they'd been so adamant. He'd tried to tell them he was fine— that he hadn't felt this fine in ages— but the words clung tacky in his mouth.
Mu Qingfang hadn't noticed him at first, too busy assessing the bodies on the stretcher in front of him. The bodies were locked in an…intimate embrace and Yue Qingyuan's ears felt hot. It seemed he hadn't been the only one making ill-advised decisions in the rubble. The shame for such a cheap thought rose immediately as Mu Qingfang's disciples delicately separated the pair of bodies to reveal Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe. Yue Qingyuan averted his eyes, but he had seen and smelled enough of the ruinous gore of Shen Qingqiu's flesh to guess at the violence that had left both cultivators comatose.
After the beast with two backs had been separated and triaged, Mu Qingfang finally took notice of the world around him. He'd startled in alarm at the sight of Yue Qingyuan and had immediately taken the sect leader by the elbow to lead the taller man somewhere private.
"What happened?" the doctor hissed. The offshoot tent had become a secondary office and clinic for the peak lord in the short amount of time the sect's forces had taken up temporary residence. Yue Qingyuan meekly complied with the physician who firmly led him inside by the sleeve and deposited him in a slightly wobbly camp chair with a voice that brooked no argument. "Stay."
As Mu Qingfang bustled through the tent collecting clean cloths, herbal remedies, and a bowl of fresh water, Yue Qingyuan did as he was bid. Physically he was present in the tent. Mentally, he was still atop the mountain reliving the vibrancy still dancing across his tongue and swirling about his damaged core. He barely noticed how the doctor wiped at his face and hands, trying to find the source of blood beneath the layers of ash and earth. There was no source. Not in the tent at least. Yue Qingyuan's hands fluttered before clenching the fabric of his robes over his knees. As soon as his weight shifted forward to stand, competent healer's hands were on his shoulders to force him back into his seat.
"There will be none of that. You need to feed. I saw how you were on the battlefield today— reckless."
"Ah…actually—" but Mu Qingfang was already rooting about in a qiankun pouch tucked into one of his sleeves to produce a decanter and familiar bowl. "You'll have this before you're cleared to leave."
Yue Qingyuan looked at his hands, stretching out the tight muscles from clenching his fists so often today. His voice was bashful, "I don't need it." Mu Qingfang tsked and tipped the taller man's chin up. "You do. We go over this every time, Shixiong."
Ah that was…there was still a line of dirt and flaking blood beneath his nails. To admit to what he'd done was…difficult. The blooming shame of it constricted his throat and made him light limbed. As it was, two options lay before him: tell the truth and risk censure or worse for the crime he'd been sworn never to commit again, or consume a donation he didn't need.
What was one more secret to lock away in his heart and return under cover of night to hide the evidence?
Like so many of the day's events, the contents of the bowl tasted like ash and lingered in his mouth like an unpleasant guest overstaying their welcome.
With so much chaos around them and in the camp itself, Yue Qingyuan found himself unable to slip away and return to the cave to right his wrong. Each time he attempted to slip back under the cover of darkness, a guard or disciple was at his elbow needing his input on something. If he hadn't been freshly fed he'd have been as dead on his feet as the rest of them.
He wasn't able to do right by his victim, but the long hours of work had saved other lives and brought some small measure of peace to those left behind by the lost. Ultimately, Yue Qingyuan would choose the greater good over a personal one.
So the weeks had passed. There'd been no word of suspicious corpses but there had, regrettably, been those among the deceased with signs of animal predation- an unfortunate side effect of the amount of time necessary to reach bodies buried in the rubble. The crews had worked in shifts through the nights and days following. Their best simply had to be enough. None of them had been prepared for a literal mountain coming down on them.
Now that literal dust had settled and the metaphorical was on track for the same, the usual sect business had begun to pop up again. Like weeding, it was a task that never seemed to end. This time it was a letter from Tian Yi Overlook inviting him to come speak with their sect leader about the current state of affairs. As the Overlook was already one of the smaller sects of the Jianghu, their losses from the Immortal Alliance Conference, Jin Lan City, and now Maigu Ridge had affected them deeply. From the tone of the letter, it seemed likely that the Overlook had need of assistance but wouldn't risk saying such a thing outright where it might fall into the hands of prying eyes. Appearances were tantamount. Especially now.
Perhaps a change of scenery, however brief, would do Yue Qingyuan good. There were only so many hours he could spend pacing his office, or at Shen Qingqiu's bedside, or in his leisure house before the monotony and stress made him want to scream and never stop.
His personal carriage was a comfortable thing. It had been passed down from his Shizun and other than a few minor retrofits over the years, had remained much the same. Despite his status, the exterior was relatively plain so as not to draw attention from those on the roadways and the cushions were worn and going threadbare in places. Before the qi deviation that had had such a profound impact— another Shen Qingqiu entirely his traitorous mind supplied— Xiao Jiu had constantly made sharp comments under his breath about the little carriage. Such a thing, in Xiao Jiu's opinion, was beneath his standing as Sect Leader. Yue Qingyuan hadn't been able to say anything in retort without revealing more than he ought to. While it was more expedient to travel by sword, his uneasy condition after the caves meant added hurdles and danger. The risk of overexerting himself and causing a diplomatic incident even the seasoned diplomats of Qiong Ding couldn't sweep under the rug was simply too high. How would they even go about explaining that the Sect Leader of one of the foremost cultivation sects was so heavily cursed that he could violently rampage and leave a trail of bodies in his wake if not fed? Besides, the carriage kept out the wind and rain, and the extended travel left him time to think. So, carriage it was.
The grounds of the Overlook were much the same as the last time Yue Qingyuan had visited, if a bit more sparsely populated. A few fresh faces darted about with baskets of produce slung on their backs, joking and laughing with gap-toothed grins until the somber grays of a visiting dignitary put them back on their best behavior. Yue Qingyuan didn't mind, though he did feel a pang in his heart seeing such a nostalgic sight. Overall, the sect had an air of peace and the mountain air was less thin than Cang Qiong, bringing with it the freshness of both the wind from higher up the peak and the greenery of the verdant valley below. The sun felt warmer here.
As Yue Qingyuan approached the finely carved pillars of the receiving room's walkway, an Inner Disciple stopped him. After the appropriate bows and small apologies, Yue Qingyuan was directed to stroll through the gardens. The Sect Leader was still receiving another guest and was presently not to be disturbed. After several days riding in the carriage and the fine weather of the morning, it was no hardship to wander through the winding paths of the many meditation gardens surrounding the sects buildings like a secondary maze. Each time he was here, he thought to himself that Shen Jiu might also enjoy a visit to the gardens. Nature had always suited him better than people and the changes from year to year and season to season always brought something new to discover. Regrettably, Shen Jiu had never agreed to accompany him, in fact, the man had only become more evasive after turning over a new leaf. While they'd never spent an excessive amount of time alone before, after whatever change of heart had overtaken his Shidi, even that small amount of time had dwindled significantly. Still, as Yue Qingyuan strolled, he let the tips of his fingers trail through the greenery thinking of the specimens here and if any of them might appeal as cuttings to the man close enough to touch but an insurmountable distance away.
It was like this, lost in both thought and direction, that Yue Qingyuan came upon a garden he'd not yet seen. It perched on the edge of the mountain, framing a picturesque scene of the valley below. Rosy sandstone boulders formed harmonious centers of clustered flowers to one side, visually balanced by a sea of roses in waves of color leading one's eye further down the path where it sloped to a downhill turn. The perfume of the blooms was rising with the heat as the sun made its way steadily toward its highest point in the sky. That same heat brought with it another aroma, one that had haunted Yue Qingyuan's dreams on the rare occasion he let himself sleep in the past few weeks. Spices, honeyed fruit, and iron. Without thought, Yue Qingyuan's mouth dropped open to breathe deeply and let it curl with palpable weight across his tongue. For all that he had only tasted it once, he knew this scent well.
For a moment, Yue Qingyuan just breathed, holding onto his composure through muscle memory alone as the aroma enveloped him. As well fed as he'd been of late, the itch in his teeth was still present. The desire to let his fangs lengthen and follow that scent to the source was still a wild thing clawing in his chest to get out.
Unlike the ridge, this time Yue Qingyuan was not desperate. He was not a starving beast. Rather than let himself walk further, he stood still as a stone and surveyed the scene with more attention to the details. Sweat prickled down his back under the day's heat.
Crouched among the roses was a woven hat, bleached pale by the sun atop a pile of dark fabrics standing out starkly against the greenery and swaying blooms. As Yue Qingyuan watched, the hat rose, resolving itself into a man in dark robes. Idly, the figure wiped at his brow, pushing back the hat to expose long, dark hair woven into a loose braid which caught the sun.
The figure had noticed his presence by now and turned with a secretive grin. "Well there you are."
Moving closer brought the features of the dark robed figure into clearer view despite the bright sun overhead. The man had a pleasing face, angled and sharp about the cheekbones and chin but generously handsome around the eyes. His scent was so familiar— but the last time Yue Qingyuan had laid eyes on this particular face was back in his disciple days. Or, at least as far as Yue Qingyuan could remember, that was true. The strange recognition tugged when Tianlang Jun spoke again.
"I wasn't sure how long it would take for you to sniff me out for another drink. I might recommend that we not proceed in the garden though," his smile broadened with a teasing glint to his eye, "the monks would be thoroughly scandalized."
Yue Qingyuan's knees weakened and locked to keep himself upright as the puzzle pieces aligned themselves. He had…with Tianlang Jun. The phantom taste and touch of his partner in the rubble rose unbidden. He couldn't say which was worse, the guilt that he believed he had killed an innocent person through his own folly, or the reality that he had entwined with the former demonic emperor. Either was a diplomatic nightmare that would cause upheaval in already tumultuous times. Habit pasted a polite smile across his face even as sweat beaded on his brow. The itching in his teeth grew worse. He rather thought he might be sick with how his stomach roiled with the revelation.
"Perhaps," Yue Qingyuan started, licking his dry lips, "we might speak private—"
"Oh dear, I do believe we'll have to table our little reunion. They've come to collect me, I'm afraid." Tianlang Jun gestured further down the path toward two approaching cultivators in the Overlook's colors. "We always have a chat around this time of day."
As Tianlang Jun moved to step past, Yue Qingyuan stepped forward a half pace into the demon's space, drawing close enough to not be overheard. "Have you- have you said anything? To them?"
With a faint popping and crunching sound from his neck, Tianlang Jun tilted his head, curious as a cat. Dark veins climbed the pallid flesh from beneath his robes and Yue Qingyuan could see the staccato of his pulse struggling beneath the blackening flesh. "Said anything about what and to whom?"
Yue Qingyuan reached for the shorter man's sleeve. There was none of Tianlang Jun's playfulness in his expression.
"Please. Don't—" He took a breath, trying to steady the rapid fire pacing of his own heart. "Don't say anything about the last time we met. For both our sakes."
With an arched brow, Tianlang Jun delicately plucked the Sect Leader's fingers from his sleeve.
"Ah, that. Perhaps I have and perhaps I haven't. We'll speak about it later, I really can't miss this appointment I'm afraid." With a wry smile, he sidestepped the obstacle of Yue Qingyuan's body and headed down the path toward the cultivators coming to fetch him.
Hidden in the folds of his sleeves, Yue Qingyuan's fist clenched. He stood there, brooding and watching the roses swaying in the breeze, until a disciple was sent to lead him to the meeting hall. The skin of his nose and cheeks burned rosy with the heat of the sun. He'd been careless, both with getting lost in the tumultuousness of his thoughts under the midday sun and the urgent situation with Tianlang Jun. The sunburn he could fix before entering the meeting hall. His demon shaped problem was less easy in its resolution.
Without knowing where Tianlang Jun had been taken or if his words were as loose and easy as they'd been in Yue Qingyuan's ears, there was little to do about it until he had a chance to speak with the leader of the Overlook. Such logic did little to ease the prickling of his nerves. The terrible possibilities of loose lips sat heavily in his gut and loomed in the back of his mind even as his Qiong Ding training took the forefront in greeting and taking tea with the sect leader. The conversation danced aimlessly around the purpose of the letter summoning Yue Qingyuan and it irritated him more than it might in other circumstances. Such dances were as commonplace as breathing and Yue Qingyuan was, on the average day, not adverse to the old monk's company. There was no need for annoyance when he'd expected it but, on today of all days he found himself tightening his jaw to avoid being overly curt.
The smaller sects were notoriously tight-lipped about their needs for aid unless it was too late to do anything about it and they could complain. Better to give space for his fellow sect leader to come around to the issue in his own time than deal with the future headache. Yue Qingyuan simply wished the man would do them both the favor of getting to the point faster.
Finally, finally, the conversation meandered to its inevitable conclusion. Tian Yi's problems were spiraling beyond the sect's ability to address. The loss of able-bodied youth had meant that they hadn't been able to handle night hunts for the villages at the base of the mountain. Without cultivators to protect them, the farmers had been picked off one by one, leaving fields untended and unable to be harvested before the crops rotted in the fields. Angry villagers had petitioned, growing more and more desperate as their communities trickled down to double digits. Resentment grew as fewer and fewer responses came down from the mountain to answer their cries. Now, the food and goods they did have to spare, they were less and less inclined to trade with the sect who had failed to uphold their end of the bargain. Depleted in manpower and resources, the Overlook faced dire straits for their winter stores and had few places to turn to where they wouldn't lose face. All of that compounded with the growing rumors in the region of a new creature stalking the nights. It was said to drain rich and poor alike in their sleep, leaving no trace beyond an open window and a bitten bloodless corpse in its wake. The marks left behind belonged to no animal. To hear the old monk tell it, the teeth marks left behind belonged to a man or something that could look like one.
The more the sect leader described what clues they had, the more uncomfortable Yue Qingyuan grew. Tian Yi expected it to be a jiangshi but one victim was found in a shrine, knelt before the altar of Guanyin with incense not yet burnt to ash. At least one victim had been found deep in the brush beside the road after going missing during work three days prior. There were more missing unaccounted for who had vanished day and night, seemingly into thin air. With a lack of fear of holy symbols and the other telltale details, it felt a little too close to his own curse. For there to potentially be another like him…it wasn't a warm thought. A headache was beginning to form behind his right eye from the stress of each new urgent matter. Wonderful.
Cang Qiong would offer assistance, of course, for both winter ration preparations and also dispatching teams of cultivators to deal with whatever creature or creatures were plaguing their western neighbors. Of course the paperwork would be drawn up first thing upon Yue Qingyuan's return. Of course, yes, of course. The longer Tian Yi rambled— first on relevant topics and then onward to every complaint under the sun— the easier it was for Yue Qingyuan to provide the bare minimum of conversation while his mind wandered.
The most pressing and easily addressed matter was ensuring Tianlang Jun's silence. Given that the monks had taken in the former emperor, theoretically he was housed somewhere on the grounds. Before he left the sect's hospitality he had to be sure to impress upon the demon the utmost secrecy and hope that more thorough methods of ensuring silence were unnecessary. He also had to apologize. Better to do that before the former. How best to do that though?
Given everything Tianlang Jun had been through at the hands of cultivators, he had ample reason to distrust mere words and Yue Qingyuan hadn't anticipated needing an apology gift to smooth things over. Not that he had any idea what the demon might like or accept as a gift. Regardless, words would have to do. Crafting an apology of this magnitude would take time Yue Qingyuan was unsure he had. How did one express an appropriate amount of mortification and contrition for all that had happened between them? My apologies for being complicit in your unjust captivity and also leaving you naked and brutalized, buried under a mountain for a second time?
This may well involve more grovelling and losing face than he had prepared for this morning.
His line of thinking and the old monk's rambling were eventually interrupted by an Inner Disciple venturing in to light the night pearls and announce that dinner would be served soon. Graciously, an invitation was extended to Yue Qingyuan to stay for a meal and the evening before departing for his own mountain in the morning. This was good, it gave him more time to locate Tianlang Jun without arousing suspicion.
The doors to the meeting hall opened to a balmy twilight painted in plums and burnished gold. It would be a restful environment if one was of the mind to be able to enjoy such things.
"—I do hope you won't be offended by our guest resident. Tianlang Jun can be quite playful but he's harmless. More or less."
Yue Qingyuan clued back into the conversation in an instant at the mention of the demon lord. He blinked rapidly trying to recontextualize himself in real space as opposed to his body moving by rote while his mind was somewhere far off.
"I'm sure it will be no issue," he said with his politicking smile which didn't meet his eyes, "with a sect as diverse as Cang Qiong, there are always a range of personalities to encounter."
They crossed the stone paved courtyard in silence to join the throng entering the dining hall. To Yue Qingyuan's dismay there was no sight of Tianglang Jun yet.
Dinner was a simple but well-done affair. At each table were dishes heaped with freshly steamed or sauteed greens from the garden, fragrant bowls of warm rice, and braised tofu in a rich dark sauce. Plates of fried tofu and stir fried mushrooms glistened in the soft light. Despite the many dishes offered, Yue Qingyuan took the smallest of tastes here and there to be polite, begging his recent inedia to excuse his lack of appetite. The old monk nodded knowingly and whispered to an attending disciple. Minutes later a bowl of thin and fragrant broth was placed on the table with a bow. There was nothing to do but accept it and thank his host for such consideration. Afterall, none of them knew he was merely pantomiming his consumption of the food. If he could still enjoy the pleasures of eating, he was sure it would be delicious and filling, as food ought to be, rather than predominantly texture with a muted whisper of taste. As it was, this would do almost nothing to nourish him. He sipped at his soup to his dining companion's approval. It tasted like nothing at all.
There was no sign of Tianlang Jun when they were seated and even now, half way through the meal, there was not a strand of demonic hair to be seen. Anticipation itched in his fingertips where they tapped distractedly against the wood grain of the table.
"Are your guests frequently late for meals?" He blurted out the question that had been circling his mind since dinner started.
The master of Tian Yi paused, a bite of tofu and mustard greens halfway to his mouth, and blinked. It was unlike Sect Leader Yue to be as agitated as he'd been the entire day. Perhaps the presence of their other guest disturbed him? Finishing his food's trajectory and chewing, he thought back in time. Perhaps it was a matter of history between them. Yes, he thought nodding to himself, that would certainly explain his fellow sect leader's odd behavior.
"Not typically, no. Master Tianlang Jun has been a fine guest within our halls and well behaved for one of his constitution. I suspect that his treatment this afternoon took more out of him than expected. It happens from time to time given his body's delicate condition."
"Delicate?" Yue Qingyuan murmured.
As he was about to remark that there was nothing which could be described as delicate when it came to Tianlang Jun, Yue Qingyuan recalled the rising dark veins on the demon's neck. Thinking back, there had been signs of strain around his eyes as well as though in pain or bearing a great burden. It was something Yue Qingyuan could relate to even if he didn't know the details of Tianlang Jun's condition. Every time he thought he might have the older man pinned down, all that was revealed was a deepening pool of mysteries.
The conversation was interrupted by the opening of the wide wooden doors to the dining hall by the very topic of conversation. For all intents and purposes, Tianlang Jun looked quite spritely. As he chattered away animatedly with his escorts, it was easy to see the spring in his step and the rosiness of his cheeks. It was on closer inspection that Yue Qingyuan spied the cracks in the facade— the tightness around Tianlang Jun's eyes where his smile didn't reach, the carefully crafted carelessness of his limbs, and the faint traces of demonic energy trailing off him like an understated sillage.
"Is he always like this?" Yue Qingyuan meant the ruinous energy trailing off the joking man.
"Oh yes, he's quite the chatterbox."
Yue Qingyuan hummed, watching the procession from the corner of his eye so as not to be caught staring. The more he saw of those faux smiles, with their overly cheerful and flirtatious falsehood, the more he thought he understood. There was something seriously amiss with Tianlang Jun. Yue Qingyuan intended to find out just what that something was. A secret for a secret. He turned back to his tasteless broth and began to plan.
**
The hour was late when Yue Qingyuan slipped from the guest quarters, soundless and preternaturally swift.
Shadows pooled generously across the courtyards and interspersed gardens of the compound, though the darkness of a nearly new moon bothered the man little. Another perk of his curse— better sight in the dark than even established cultivators. He paused on the tiled roof of a dormitory, hidden in the boughs of a pine, and paused, hesitant. Unease sat queasily in his belly. Chances of discovery were low but there was still a reputational risk of being discovered visiting a demon lord so late in the night. Or at all. Tianlang Jun may have been effectively neutered with his son at the reins, but that didn't make him any less of a social threat. Tian Yi Overlook could weather that storm due to their nature as monks. It would be a different case entirely for Cang Qiong; they already had one 'defective' peak lord who dealt with demons. Possibly two, depending on how Shen Qingqiu reacted when he awoke from his coma. Yue Qingyuan shook his head, steeling himself. He would have to be careful in dealing with the demon— but it wasn't impossible.
His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, letting the scents of daily life roll across his palate. Nothing here but the typical members of The Overlook and the detritus of living— the scent of foods and perfumes, greenery, and the warm smell of sleep. While such things were naturally at least a bit alluring given his nature, none of them were the particular brand of seductive scent that made him lose his head. He continued his journey onwards toward the medical wing.
Eventually he found the trail, letting it lead him through a maze of rooms and corridors unseen by typical visitors to a carved doorway leading into a small courtyard garden. In the rooms beyond, several night pearls were lit, lending a cheery ambiance to the darkness. Yue Qingyuan braced himself and pressed forward, slipping inside the rooms as quickly as he could.
The pressing smell of medicinal incense was immediately apparent. It permeated everything. At its center, that honeyed fruit smell had taken on a dark tang. The scent note troubled him but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. Something acerbic and sour that mingled with the iron and spices. It should have been unpleasant, that wrongness, but he couldn't find it within himself to mind. If anything, the change helped against the overlay of more…tantalizing memories.
"Are you going to stand there all night or will you come in?" The voice drifted in from the next chamber.
Yue Qingyuan passed through the curtained doorway separating the entry way from what was becoming clear was the demon's bedroom. The man in question lay sprawled across a palatial chair, robes half undone with a lit long pipe in his mouth, and an open book propped up beside him. He took a slow drag from the pipe, perfumed smoke curling out of his mouth like a great dragon, and tilted his head back against the chair.
"Yue Qingyuan."
"Tianlang Jun."
The tableau Tianlang Jun had painted was designed for seduction,or else the man was simply built for sumptuousness and frankly, Yue Qingyuan wasn't sure which was worse. A swath of skin lay bare from throat to navel, showing off the fine musculature beneath. The effect was slightly marred by the black venation spreading across the demon's neck and chest like rotting fruit. Yue Qingyuan cleared his throat to speak before Tianlang Jun beat him to it.
"I'd almost given up hope that you would seek me out after our earlier conversation," the demon drawled before taking another long drag.
"Forgive me, there was little privacy prior. I was hoping to speak with you now, should you be available."
Tianlang Jun gestured lazily before him, a man who never forgot that he'd been emperor.
With some small amount of trepidation, Yue Qingyuan stepped forward and bowed.
"This one has done you a great wrong and for that, must apologize. What was done to you on the mountain was unforgivable and this humble Yue will seek to make amends—"
Tianlang Jun's eyes narrowed.
"You owe me nothing, least of all an apology for some of the most fun I've had in months. In fact, I'm more offended that you felt the need to apologize than I am that you left me trapped in my nephew's corpse."
Yue Qingyuan's head shot up, eyes searching, and blanched, open mouthed in horror.
"Oh come now, it was the mountain that did it, not you." Another lazy drag from the pipe, smoke blown directly at Yue Qingyuan this time.
He coughed politely and closed his gaping mouth. With a nod, he straightened to his full height. A more direct approach seemed needed.
"If it's not an apology you're after, what will it take for you to keep my secret?"
This time, he did not bow his head. He stood with the full confidence of the leader of Cang Qiong. There was no challenge in his face, merely the same steadfast and diligent nature that made others rely on him. Yue Qingyuan could bear the weight of whatever outlandish desire the demon lord had cooking behind those clever eyes.
Tianglang Jun smiled, all teeth, and laughed.
"There you are. I was hoping you hadn't been lost in all that duty and dullery." He leaned forward, conspiratorial, causing his half-worn robe to gape open and fully expose the planes of his chest.
Yue Qingyuan was swamped in waves of warm skin scent and amber-tinged blood and averted his eyes. His gums itched at the aroma and he fought to keep his hunger from showing on his face. Instead, he fell into what Xiao Jiu used to call his "politician face", all polite smile and amiability.
"Now, now, none of that either. Your courtly manners are no good here."
Yue Qingyuan clenched his teeth. Polite, mild mannered, dependable. Not a beast to rise to taunts.
"My most gracious host will have to excuse this one. Again I ask, what will it take?"
Tianlang Jun sighed and tipped his head back seemingly in thought. He idly took another breath through his pipe letting the smoke curl lazily.
"Drink from me."
Yue Qingyuan blanched. "I—"
The demon lord raised his hand to silence the protest.
"Only from me. Exclusively. As you can see," he gestured with the pipe in his hand at his quite exposed self, "I find myself at an impasse. There is only so much these old monks can do with a situation as…delicate as mine." He smiled again, a hint of fang visible in the dimmed light.
"This one doesn't see how the two are related." Yue Qingyuan allowed his confusion to bleed into his voice.
"Too much energy, the sort you feed on. I wasn't lying when I said our little tryst was the most fun I'd had in a while— other than your Master Shen. I just also happened to mean it on multiple levels."
Yue Qingyuan paused for a moment, his mind tumbling over these new puzzle pieces.
"You're saying that this curse helped?"
"Very much so." Tianlang Jun tilted his head at an off angle with a crackle and rolled his shoulders. "This way we both get what we need. Regularly. You help me, I help you. No one need be the wiser."
The sect leader hummed, contemplating. "And the catch?"
A chortle this time.
"Well, I happen to have opinions on how I'm fed on. You did leave me rather high and dry the last time. Ah, there's that pretty flush. Charming. During our feedings I'm not opposed to slaking another thirst with you, should you be amenable."
For a breath, Yue Qingyuan found himself without words. What did one say to a proposition cushioned on a deal over one's darkest secret. It felt…coersive. Manipulative. But was that not what demons were? Was that not something that he himself was at his most base due to his vampiric nature? His thoughts churned and writhed as he formulated his answer.
"I am— this one…this one will have to deny Master Tianlang Jun's request at this time. Perhaps, under different circumstances. Ah, forgive me, I forget myself."
"You should do so more often. Forget yourself, I mean."
Yue Qingyuan tilted his head, not quite understanding. Tianlang Jun sighed.
"Well, you can think on it and get back to me. For now, I think we both could use a drink."
Tianlang Jun extended a black veined arm, his sleeve falling into the crook of his elbow, in offering. Yue Qingyuan swallowed hard. Tried to tell himself of all the ways this was a terrible idea. That this was blackmail and extortion. That he was taking advantage of a sick and infirm man. As though sensing the hesitation, Tianlang Jun stroked a clawed hand over his bare wrist, caressing it before sinking in his nails to draw blood.
The effect was immediate, Yue Qingyuan's fangs lengthened in his mouth and his pulse skyrocketed. The world narrowed into a haze-red focus and he stepped forward, eyes glinting in the low light. He looked every inch what he was, a predator who had sighted prey. Slowly as a cat hunting a bird, he approached the proffered arm. When he came close enough, the great Yue Qingyuan, leader of Cang Qiong Sect who bowed to no one, fell to his knees on the rug. His eyes were hungry and fixed on the blood beading upon his prey's skin. Gently, he took Tianlang Jun by the wrist and elbow.
"Tell me if it hurts," he mumbled before licking a long swathe up Tianlang Jun's forearm, moaning at the taste. There was no resistance, only an answering sigh. He bit down, sinking his fangs into blackened veins, and drank deeply.
Fingers carded into his hair, knocking the crown askew. All was red and ripe and full. The bouquet spread across his tongue as he drank, supping from the finest wine and most succulent of meals. He lost himself in gorging.
Sometime later, a hand at his jaw pried him away.
"I think that's enough for now."
Yue Qingyuan gnashed his teeth, forgetting himself in his haze. The hand that pried him away tweaked his nose and it gave him pause. The pause was enough to bring him back to himself, to awareness of their bodies in space. His eyes roved over Tianlang Jun, searching for signs that he'd taken too much, drank too deeply. The man appeared hale and whole, even flushed and…excited in a way that Yue Qingyuan couldn't bring himself to look at.
"Are you back with me now?"
"I— uh, yes, I believe so."
He licked the remaining blood from his lips, savouring the flavor. He breathed heavily, panting in his own arousal.
"Are you sure you don't want to do something about that?" Tianlang Hun pointed with his bare and finely shaped foot.
Flustered, Yue Qingyuan stood and backed away.
"No, that won't be necessary. Good night."
Before the demon lord could do more than shrug and pick his pipe back up, Yue Qingyuan fled into the night with his shame back to his guest quarters. His mind was spinning but his body felt good— sated in a way— even as another hunger clawed at him.
He managed to make it behind closed doors before falling back against the door and fumbling his hand into his trousers. His mind supplied thoughts of how the night could have gone—lips, teeth, and tongues— as he stroked himself furiously to completion, soiling his robes in the process. In the afterglow, there was no one to hear him panting heavily into the dark of his chambers.
When his head had cleared, the mortification swooped in. It hung over him like a dark cloud as he dressed down for the evening. Yue Qingyuan settled into bed, ready for a sleepless night of guilt. Instead he fell into a deep sleep. One that was filled with sweat, blood, and the press of a body against his in the rubble.
Morning came all too soon. In the blue-gray light of dawn, Yue Qingyuan lay in bed, arm thrown over his eyes as he breathed deeply and willed his bodily reaction to his dreams to fade. There was no way to achieve a dream like that in a way that didn't feel coercive. As though he'd stolen it from a man not in his right mind to say 'no'. It troubled him, this budding and blooming desire within him. After Shen Qingqiu's subtle rejection over the long years, he'd rather thought he'd put such things away on the shelf. To have reawakened this part of himself felt…frightening. It was like learning to fly on his sword— an instant blur of terrifying speed without any control. Whatever Tianlang Jun had awakened him, it brought with it more than one type of hunger. He wasn't sure what to do with this new knowledge of himself. In the end, he settled for tucking it away in a box to unpack at some indeterminate time later. For now, there were non-demon shaped matters to attend to.
Finally settled, he rose to attend his morning ablutions. The cool water helped clear any lingering memories or dream fragments and left him feeling more steady. Today he was to meet with the leader of the Overlook again to discuss in better detail what was happening to the people in the countryside and look over the scene of the most recent attack.