Chapter Text
There are many things that Mobei Jun has learned about humans in his personal quest to bridge any misunderstandings between himself and Shang Qinghua.
He knows that his knowledge of humans is sparse. Most of his interactions with humans could be described as…bad and he had little interest in expanding what he knew of them. Huan Hua Palace cultivators, the humans in the village of his youth that attacked him due to his uncle’s trickery, all causing him nothing but pain and anger. Being isolated in the Northern Kingdom with only demons around had done little to change his opinion.
The only exception being Shang Qinghua.
It was this isolation from humans that caused such grievous miscommunications between them, Mobei Jun decided. How was he to know the customs of humans when he had so little interactions? And so, he made attempts to learn more. Between listening to petitioners during court, settling various rebellions by demons unworthy of Junshang’s time, and attending to the various tasks that came with being a monarch of an entire kingdom, Mobei Jun visited local towns to watch humans in their normal element.
The first (and most important) lesson he learned was that Shang Qinghua is not like most humans and therefore everything Mobei Jun knew was useless.
This conclusion was not helped by talking to Shang Qinghua’s fellow peak member, Shen Qingqiu. If anything, Shen Qingqiu’s response to his questions only made him surer of his lack of knowledge.
“Shang-shidi…,” Shen Qingqiu started, staring down at his fan closed in his fist. They had sat together for the last hour, despite Junshang’s subtle (?) hints that it was almost time for his beloved Shizun to eat and for Mobei Jun to go the hell home. This was more important. “Shang-shidi is not the most straightforward of people. His mind tends to lead him down strange paths.”
This Mobei Jun knew.
He nodded his thanks to Peak Lord Shen, ignoring the dark miasma that seemed to rise from the corner of the room where Junshang sat, before opening a portal back to the Norther Palace. As he turned and stepped into the portal, he heard Peak Lord Shen mutter something in the strange language he shared with Shang Qinghua.
‘Good luck, bro. Don’t say I never help you’
What a strange way to say goodbye, Mobei Jun thought. He always tried to remember the words that Shang Qinghua said in that strange language. Perhaps learning to speak this language would help him. He’d ask Shang Qinghua to teach him later.
Until then, Mobei Jun would make a list of things that were important to know about Shang Qinghua.
1) Personal Territory is important (Don't look at the writing on his desk or he will cry)
“Oi, I was here first you bastard!” a merchant yelled towards the man next to him.
A second merchant had tried setting up his own stall in front of the first merchant. Mobei Jun watched from the shadows as the two men started a yelling match of claiming their territory for their sales. The yelling devolved quickly into punching.
This was what Mobei Jun expected. Demons were quick to defend what they perceive as their territory, and it seemed humans were the same.
When Shang Qinghua had first arrived in the Northern Palace, he did not have a room. Mobei Jun had assumed that he would carve out a space for himself as demons did. It was only upon coming across Shang Qinghua by the fires in the kitchen one late night, wrapped in extra layers of robes, that Mobei Jun realized what had happened. This situation was easily remedied with the swift removal of an Ox demon from a room with a fireplace.
Any subsequent attempts from other demons to claim the room were quickly squashed. Violently. It was soon known that the rooms that Shang Qinghua inhabited were his and his alone (and for Mobei Jun to visit whenever he desired).
But for all that Shang Qinghua did not initially claim his territory, he quickly made it his own.
After watching the fistfight between the merchants draw the attention of a growing crowd, Mobei Jun decided he had seen enough for the day. Non-cultivator human fights tended to be boring and never really ended in decapitation or loss of limb.
Mobei Jun stepped into shadows and into the room of his advisor.
“Ahh, my king! Do you need something from me? Is it the Eastern mine excavation forms? I thought I had until next month!” Shang Qinghua moved his hands through the piles of paperwork on his desk. His continued muttering under his breath as he moved paper after paper around. “-if I have to talk to that foreman one more time ‘ooh Master Shang, if only I could find the extra funds to get the best metals I can‘- as if we haven’t paid more then we actually needed I can do this with my eyes closed I should just get a new contractor t-“
“No, they are not needed yet.”
“-and I’ll report you for working condit- ah, then my king…what are you doing here? Not that you can’t be here! I mean, it is your palace,” Shang Qinghua replied. His rummaging finally ceasing, he picked up his brush again. He looked up at Mobei Jun with a curious expression.
Mobei Jun glanced at the table and saw the manuscript that Shang Qinghua had been working on for the last few months.
Shang Qinghua coughed, his cheeks reddening, before shuffling some papers around.
Mobei Jun did not know why Shang Qinghua was so embarrassed about his writing. He shared his writing with Junshang’s consort easily but drew the line at sharing with him.
He would not push. Not when he still felt on such thin ground.
Mobei Jun removed his gaze from the desk, and he could sense Shang Qinghua untense. He moved to the bed and laid down, closing his eyes. After a few minutes, he heard a small chuckle from the cultivator before brush strokes started up again. Opening one of his eyes, Mobei Jun took stock of the room.
For all that he wouldn’t fight for a room, Shang Qinghua had made the room his. Books of all kinds (not just red books) were stacked on the floor and tables. Crumpled pieces of discarded writing lay strewn on the floor. A fire roared comfortably in the fireplace, adding extra light to the candles already lit. Various silks and robes were strewn over chairs and other surfaces, a mess that usually only occurred when Shang Qinghua got into a writing frenzy. His An Ding peak crown lay besides the bed, on its side as if taken off and quickly forgotten.
It was comforting. It felt safe. It reminded him of the leisure house back at An Ding peak throughout the years, where he would visit to do the same thing he was doing now.
Nothing like his own chambers. And not like it felt in that period after his Ascension Trial, the fire extinguished and room bare. When Shang Qinghua left, he took whatever made the room feel alive and safe with him.
Maybe, he thought, it wasn’t the place, but the person he prefers. Would he like his own rooms better if Shang Qinghua was there too?
Mobei Jun closed his eyes again, letting out a deep breath.
From the table, Shang Qinghua began to hum quietly, lost in his writing.