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Hualing is found where she shouldn’t be found, in the clutches between the incomprehensibility of death and the call of life.
She coughs black blood as the abyss envelopes her whole, and she wonders if her lord would care enough to find the scraps of her body to deliver to her ancestors.
She wonders briefly if he even knows those rituals, if Mobei-jun would teach him, if anyone would dare teach the ruler of the demon realm the customs of their people.
Hualing thinks she might die inconsequentially, beaten to a pulp by yaoguai that she should’ve been able to tame and recruit and-
“Breathe.”
The order floods her senses, clarity floods her senses for just a moment but it is enough.
Hualing is lifted, cool hands wrapped around her waist and under her knees and then she is risen.
Her rescuer wears a veil, but in that moment of clarity, Hualing stares at her eyes and feels herself relax against her will.
She is safe.
-
Hualing wakes, not in the abundant furs and silks of her rooms, but rather the crisp cool sheets of a stranger's bed.
She jerks upright and groans, looking first down at herself as her vision clears and then around the rest of the unfamiliar rooms.
White robes clothe her body, disgusting, trite and boring. They are wrapped tight enough that it feels like she might choke. Without a second thought she unwraps the waist belt and crawls on the mattress to try and get her bearings.
This is..
She can hear training beyond the open windows. Peach blossoms flutter in the wind. Petals land upon her bare thighs.
This is.
“You’re awake.”
She turns her head sharply and finds her savior, in all of her tall and imposing glory. Her gorgeous hair falls neatly behind her back, her eyes are guarded but not hostile. She is beautiful, but not comprehensible.
Immediately Hualing wants to slap her.
Liu Mingyan doesn’t do something as ungraceful as sigh but she does hesitate as she walks across her rooms to where Hualing has deftly turned her head and crossed her arms across her chest.
She is aware, reluctantly, that being in a bed rather than a prison on Xian Shu Peak is some kind of privilege. But she doesn’t- Understand why.
There are many things she does not understand. And most of the time Hualing is content to let them slip by, unwilling to waste her energy.
But this thing. This person. This cultivator.
Hualing does not understand her. Does not understand why the sight of her glimmering eyes had caused her stomach to swoop. Does not understand why the mere thought of her makes her wet enough to ruin the fabric between her legs and her nipples hurt against the tight slip wrappings.
She does not understand why Hualing would be saved by her. Brought back here. Where only honored women can step foot. Where only cultivators can exist.
Liu Mingyan sits beside her crumpled form on the bed.
The last time she had seen this woman, Hualing had been beaten bloody and bruised. She notes that her body has already healed. Already unblemished.
“Demoness,” Liu Mingyan says, and despite herself Hualing’s laugh is sharp and viciously mocking.
“We have names, you know. We have peaks too.”
Infuriatingly, Mingyan only tilts her head to acquiesce. Humble in her acceptance. The movement makes the lines of her neck even more prominent. It is unreasonably long. Her hair spills over her shoulder in a way that Hualing had not thought possible.
She is so- So graceful. Hualing hates her.
“Forgive me,” Mingyan says, her voice like honey. Oh. Its delightful to listen to. Along with the petals that flutter, incessantly, the scent of peach blossoms, the rustle of her lilac robes - Hualing feels hot. Hotter than she should.
“Not forgiven,” she snaps.
Silence falls between them. It is an unreasonably awkward one. Hualing refuses to break first. All she is guilty of is almost dying, and perhaps being so irresistible that Liu Mingyan defied the conventions of her strict sect to carry her home and lay her in her bed and divest of her clothes to wrap her in robes and-
“Why am I here?” She blurts, angry and abrupt and overwhelmed with the trajectory her thoughts had decided to take.
Liu Mingyan’s eyes flit from Hualing’s hands to her face, to her lips and down again. Hualing watches her breathe, in awe at the elegance in such a simple and unthinking task. She really is too beautiful.
“Miss Sha,” she says softly, respectfully. Her grape-like eyes capture Hualings and they hold them there, in her unwavering gaze. “I have a proposition for you.”
-
It takes a ridiculous amount of time for Hualing to stop laughing. She laughs hard enough that at one point she had fallen forward, her hands gripping Liu Mingyan forearms to keep her upright.
“You little pervert!” She gasps through her laughter, the sheer humor of it all making her eyes sting with unshed tears. Oh heavens. There is a shift of fabric that reaches her ears too late and then Mingyan is suddenly too close. Her hand is pressing firmly on Hualing’s mouth. Her eyes are frantic.
“It’s a tale of the heart. There is nothing perverse about it.”
If she could, Hualing would snort with the intensity in Mingyan’s statement. But, there is a cultivator in her personal space, and she smells like peach blossom.
“Will you, Sha Hualing?”
Not Demoness, this time. Hualing licks Mingyan’s hand and grins when she is immediately let go. Mingyan tastes like salt and she smells like peach blossom and Hualing can’t help but wonder what she looks like.
She pretends to ponder, rising from that bed to pace around the rooms afforded to Xian Shu’s head disciple. Her nails tap against the mahogany dresser. “You’re asking an awful lot of me.”
This is rare. She’d been saved, cared for, and now implored. She could ask anything of Liu Mingyan she thinks. So long as she makes it clear just how dangerous the task is.
“I know.” Comes the steadfast reply.
“He’d tear me apart for even considering-“
“I’ve invited Luo-xiong to the peak,” Mingyan says. Hualing jerks to a screeching stop to stare at her, wide eyed. “You were very unwell, Sha-mei.”
The words that are spilling from her mouth make no sense. So what if she was close to death? Luo Binghe wouldn’t care. And yet- Mingyan, who is in the process of writing page upon page about Luo Binghe’s awful little crush, seems to believe he would. Seems to think she matters enough.
Seems to think she should matter enough.
She shakes her head, and mumbles quietly. Disarmed without a moment’s notice.
“I guess,” she says, dumbstruck, “I’ll just ask him when he’s here then.”
“Good!” Mingyan says and her eyes curve into warm little crescents. She’s smiling under her veil, and Hualing wants to reach out. Wants to stare at what the smile of a person who thinks she deserves care looks like. “It’s time to eat.”
Her hand is grabbed, her robes are tightened, and Sha Hualing suddenly begins life at Xian Shu Peak.
-
Not everybody takes as kindly as Liu Mingyan to demon blood desecrating their hallowed walls.
There is no talk of moving Hualing from the head disciples rooms into the dorms. In fact, no one really talks to her at all.
It's fine, it's more than fine. This is too many people anyway. Hualing is used to demons that clamour and roar for attention. She is used to fighting her way to the pedestal. She is used to climbing on the backs of others to be heard.
She is not used to the quiet and gentle reverence with which Mingyan treats her.
Luo Binghe comes, fights a lot, almost absently. And when Liu Qingge is licking his wounds, having left whilst glaring at his sister, he sits there calmly.
Mingyan walks in front of Luo Binghe grasping Hualing’s hand like her very life depends on it. Binghe looks up at them both, something flickering through his gaze. She knows that Binghe doesn’t hate Mingyan, not like he does her brother. And with the knowledge that she was a little pervert writing her little pervert stories, Hualing would even venture to say he likes her.
Likes her efforts.
“My lord,” Hualing says, uneasy suddenly. If Binghe accepts then- Then wouldn’t she be stuck here? At their mercy?
“Shizun has agreed already?”
“I’m sure he will. Once the time comes to ask him.”
Hualing wants to laugh. It’s absurd, it's absolutely absurd. She won’t survive here, in this pretty girls sect, eating pretty food and sleeping in pretty beds and staring at pretty faces.
“If any harm comes to her then I will raze this peak to the ground,” he says quietly. It's startling. And it proves Mingyan right in a way that Hualing cannot begin to comprehend. She feels like a little sister all of sudden. Feels heard and seen and cared for.
Liu Mingyan, tall and imposing and beautiful, doesn’t seem to notice what she is doing until her arm is around Hualing’s waist and her chin is tilted up.
“I will protect her with my life.”
-
It’s unreasonably intense build up for what involves nothing more than Hualing lazily stuffing grapes in her mouth, laid back on Mingyan’s bed, and throwing out little morsels of information every night.
“Luo Binghe doesn’t eat fish,” she says, entirely made up, and yet Mingyan diligently opens up her draft novel and notes in practiced and beautiful calligraphy.
During the day she is left to her own devices, though more than once Mingyan had quietly insisted they spar together. More than once Mingyan had quietly insisted they walk together. Hualing still doesn’t understand her.
They eat their evening meal together and Mingyan takes her back to her room. She tries and fails not to feel like a courtesan.
She tries and fails not to read into the way she is touched, handled, grabbed.
Inexperience lines every graceful curve of Mingyan’s body and, unlike Hualing, she is ill-suited at hiding it.
Hualing had thought that sleeping in her rooms would give her a chance to peek under her veil. But Mnigyan stays awake writing until Hualing has drifted off, and when the morning comes Hualing finds her already training with the rising sun. She’s elusive, and yet-
Stupid.
Hualing is realizing that Liu Mingyan is incredibly, overwhelmingly stupid.
It's in her righteousness, her steadfastness. Her unrelenting belief in the power of love.
“It’s tragic,” she tells Hualing, now that they are friends, “They both deserve such happiness.”
Sometimes it makes Hualing angry enough to find a corner of this awful place to saturate with demonic energy until the trees are broken and bent and ruined beyond repair.
It is Mingyan’s belief that one just needs to deserve happiness in order to achieve it. And it is Hualing’s that no such thing exists.
She’s stupid and she’s pretty and she’s good . So good.
Hualing does not deserve her. But she wants her.
-
She has taken to rising barely a moment after Mingyan has. She knows that they sleep next to each other but no matter how hard she tries to reach out in the middle of the night, she can never happen upon that lithe body next to her.
Instead she wraps herself in Mingyan’s robes, breathes in the scent of peach blossom, and sits on the steps to watch her movements in the courtyard.
Unendingly beautiful. Unparalleled grace. A beautiful thing that Hualing is undeserving of.
She thinks of an earnest arm around her waist. And endless supply of her favourite grapes. She thinks of sharp glares to juniors who look at her wrong, and quiet encouragement of her training. She thinks of page after page of hope, love, and tragedy. And something bizarre happens in the crevices of her heart.
Hualing rests her elbows on her knees and rests her hands on her elbows and stares. Wistful.
-
It’s getting too hot to stay as covered up as the peak would like, but Mingyan has always indulged her. Hualing sits on one side of her desk, legs dangling in nothing but her strapless top and shorts, head tilted back in the scant breeze that emerges through the open window.
Mingyan is still in her ridiculous robes. She’s probably got a sweaty upper lip under her veil. The thought makes Hualing huff a light laugh.
“This isn’t right,” Mingyan says, cheeks flushed and gently putting down her brush.
“Hmm?” Hualing tilts her head, struggles to read what's just been written and is still drying. Mingyan reaches out to steady her, elegant fine boned fingers spread on her thighs.
The scene she reads- Makes her flush bright red. Makes her flush bright red. It’s all gnashing teeth and throbbing members and steamy breaths and yet-
“Jiejie,” Hualing says quietly, a vicious and mischievous smirk spreading across her lips. “Have you ever kissed before?”
Her question earns her a sharp look of panic, earns her firm calloused fingers digging into the flesh of her thighs. Earns her an in.
Slowly, as though approaching a wild animal, Hualing slips off of the desk to slide onto Mingyan’s lap. Her heart is in her throat, her body is too hot. And this is the only person in the world who so steadfastly believes she deserved more. Better.
Mingyan doesn’t throw her off. But she doesn’t look at her either.
Hualing’s noticed that. Mingyan sleeps at the very edge of the bed. Averts her eyes when she changes. Touches her and handles her and grabs her.
“No,” Comes the stilted reply and Hualing settles, trusting those strong thighs to take her weight with ease. She does. They do.
“Then... Shouldn’t you practice?”
The air is tense and thick and hot between them. And Hualing tries to remember the time when she’d begged Luo Binghe to take her back with him. Tries to remember what was waiting for her in the demon realm and tries to remember if there was anything even remotely as intriguing as Liu Mingyan.
There were no peach blossoms down there.
Deep eyes capture her own, and she seems to deliberate. Hualing doesn’t relent.
“You can write them like this,” She croons, soft, imploring. “Sat atop one another. Can you-” Her breath hitches and her thighs tighten suddenly, “Can you feel me?” She whispers, staring down at her neck, where it is safe. “Touch-”
Oh fuck. Why is she suddenly nervous? So nervous.
“You want me to touch you?” Mingyan breathes. Sparks shoot through her body. Her gaze is ripped back up to those warm, kind eyes.
Everything she does not deserve and yet- Mingyan’s hands settle around her waist, hesitating for just a moment before they slide, and cling, and tug.
She is not expecting to be clung to. Touched and held. Revered almost. Mingyan has her arms around Hualing’s waist, and her forehead pressed against her own. They are flush and Hualing’s heart trips over itself.
“Yes,” she manages. “Use me. As practice. You can use me.”
Mingyan’s eyes flicker with something uneasy, and Hualing is terrified she’ll be thrown off. Sent away. Abandoned once more.
She cups Minyan’s face, fingers stroking along the gentle and perfect slope of her cheek. She puts just enough distance between them to stare at her. Beg her.
“Use me,” she begs again, and she leans forward slowly.
Her nose brushes along the soft silk, eyes fluttering shut without her permission. Hualing isn’t sure how she’d known exactly where Mingyan’s lips would be. But they press together against the thin layer of fabric and heat pools low and vicious in her abdomen. They’re plush, and soft, and Hualing is the only person in the world who can claim to have kissed her. This, she thinks, is enough for her.
But it is not enough for Mingyan.
The grip on her waist turns bruising all of a sudden, hands moving to her hips where they push and pull and encourage a filthy grind that makes a moan leave her lips.
“Mingyan,” she breathes, helplessly.
“Hualing,” Comes the response. Resolute and determined and painfully turned on. “It will not stop at a kiss. Are you willing to practice with me the entire way?”
Hualing turns bright red. It's not fair that this beautiful cultivator should know exactly what to say to make her so flustered. It's not fair at all.
“Answer,” Mingyan snaps and the order sends shivers of heat through her body.
“For a cut of your profits,” she teases, though she is breathless and aching and hot.
Mingyan huffs, her pretty eyes curling in amusement. Her hand leaves Hualing’s waist and she has no time to whine about its absence because a moment later it's rising to her ear. Behind her head.
The veil drops.
Hualing has less than a second to comprehend the mind numbing beauty of her cultivators face before those freed lips are back on hers, claiming and biting and teeth gnashing.
“The entire way,” Mingyan pants and her voice is even more beautiful, without a layer of fabric to dampen its hoarseness.
“As much as you need,” Hualing promises.
-
Hualing is crying. It should be embarrassing but she can’t help it. Can’t help but lean into the touch that wipes her tears and licks at her mouth. Everytime she looks at Mingyan her heart thuds, trebles in size, threatens to burst out her chest. Her leg is held lovingly, outstretched against that toned upper torsor. Mingyan’s hips are rolling, every brush of their clits together is wet and hot and obscene.
“Mingyan,” Hualing whimpers.
It's too much. And those fingers wipe at her face, grab her hip, ease her frantic rutting into something rhythmic and sensual.
Mingyan is slow. She is filled with power and tension but she’s slow and Hualing can feel it. She thinks it’s thanks, maybe, something to do with gratitude for Hualing’s tentative first steps into what they had both wanted, needed. Deserved. Its both torture and bliss, to be at mercy like this. To lay under the glow of her radiance, her naked body and naked face and warm kind eyes.
“Jiejie,” She begs, staring at the sun. Mingyan bends down, their cunts continue to rub and slide against each other and it’s a pleasure so intense that Hualing cries out.
“Close your eyes, love,” Mingyan whispers. Warm. Intense.
She has no choice but to obey, at the mercy of her pretty cultivator who had saved her life and believed so wholeheartedly that people would get the things they deserve.
Hualing is under her and in love. And she thinks that maybe she was right.