Work Text:
Mobei Jun watches as Shang Qinghua reads through the letter quietly.
When he’d written the xiushu last night in his study, he’d imagined that Shang Qinghua would be happy to read it. He’d thought that it would, if nothing else, make Shang Qinghua smile. It was the only reason he’d corrected his trembling hold on his brush, and forced himself to finish the letter.
There is no joy on Shang Qinghua’s face now, however, and Mobei Jun’s heart clenches painfully because he recognises the hurt that he reads on Shang Qinghua’s face.
But the annulment of their marriage is for the best, right? Shang Qinghua has been miserable for the last few weeks. It doesn’t take much to figure out that this marriage is taking a toll on Shang Qinghua, and Mobei Jun, for all that he wants to keep Shang Qinghua by his side, to selfishly hoard Shang Qinghua to himself, can’t bear to see him so miserable anymore.
Best to let him go, so that Shang Qinghua might be happy. If Shang Qinghua is happy, then no matter how Mobei Jun feels about the annulment, it would be worth it.
Of course, it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt now, when Shang Qinghua is staring up at him, eyes wide and shining with tears, looking like Mobei Jun has just dropped the worst of news on him instead of giving him his freedom back.
It’s a long while before Shang Qinghua speaks, and when he does, it just breaks Mobei Jun’s heart even more.
“Where will I go, my king?” he asks, quiet.
Mobei Jun suppresses the urge to take Shang Qinghua into his arms, to ask for forgiveness. “You don’t have to leave now,” he tells Shang Qinghua. His estate is large enough that he could move across the manor and likely not have to run into Shang Qinghua. Hell, he has other properties that he could move into for the time being. “You can stay here for as long as you wish. Until you figure out where you want to go.”
‘You could stay here forever,’ he doesn’t say. ‘You could choose to stay with this lord forever.’
He watches as Shang Qinghua’s throat works, but Shang Qinghua remains quiet for a long moment, until, “Are you sure about this?” He raises the xiushu in his hand. “If I leave… I won’t- You won’t ever be able to find me, Mobei Jun.”
Shang Qinghua’s words make Mobei Jun want to snatch the xiushu out from Shang Qinghua’s hand and rip it into pieces, but…
He remembers the wistful look he caught on Shang Qinghua’s face the other night, when junshang visited with Shen Qingqiu. The way Shang Qinghua’s eyes tracked the gentle touches that junshang and Shen Qingqiu exchanged.
Mobei Jun can’t even remember the last time Shang Qinghua really smiled at him.
(He’s lying.
He can.
It was before Shang Qinghua married him.)
Shang Qinghua is clearly miserable here with Mobei Jun, and it’s holding the thought close to himself that helps him steel himself so he doesn’t backpedal.
Shang Qinghua lets his hand fall. He blinks, and the first track of tears flow down his cheeks.
Mobei Jun has never felt so wretched in his life.
He holds himself still as Shang Qinghua raises himself on tiptoes.
“Goodbye, my king,” Shang Qinghua whispers, and presses his lips to Mobei Jun’s jaw.
Mobei Jun closes his eyes, and balls his hands into tight fists to keep himself from holding Shang Qinghua close, from asking him to stay, to stay anyway, please.
When he opens his eyes, Shang Qinghua is gone, and it’s that- The fact that Shang Qinghua has left, the fact that Mobei Jun cannot see him anymore, that solidifies his regret, turns it into something visceral and painful. He feels… Like he’s missing something very important. Like his heart has been carved right out of his chest. Every breath he takes hurts.
“Qinghua,” he breathes out, and panics.
He takes two wobbly steps forward, and then breaks into a run.
Shang Qinghua isn’t out in the corridor. Mobei Jun cannot see him in the courtyard.
It’s drizzling, and Shang Qinghua has left. Mobei Jun doesn’t know if he has an umbrella with him. He doesn’t know where Shang Qinghua is going. He doesn’t know if Shang Qinghua has anywhere to go, if he’s taken any money with him, if he will be safe.
Shang Qinghua hadn’t even looked happy when Mobei Jun gave him the xiushu.
Mobei Jun has made a mistake.
“Qinghua!” he calls out, stepping out into the rain. There is no response. “Shang Qinghua!”
He’s made a mistake. He wants Shang Qinghua to come back. Shang Qinghua mightn’t have been happy with him, but Mobei Jun can change. He can do better! He can learn how to make Shang Qinghua happy. Anything. He will do anything, as long as Shang Qinghua stays with him.
He should have realised that before he purported to annul his marriage with Shang Qinghua. Shang Qinghua had asked him if he was sure that’s what he wanted to do. He’d given Mobei Jun a chance to reconsider, and like a fool, Mobei Jun hadn’t.
And now Shang Qinghua is gone.
He’s left, and Mobei Jun can’t find him.
You won’t ever be able to find me.
Mobei Jun’s knees buckle, and he falls to the ground. “Qinghua,” he chokes out.
He stays that way, on the ground, in the rain, for an indeterminate amount of time, miserable in his regret, until warm arms envelope him.
“Qinghua?” Mobei Jun clutches back at him, impossibly tight. “Qinghua.”
“You love me,” Shang Qinghua says.
It’s not phrased as a question, but Mobei Jun nods anyway.
“Why would you send me away if you love me?” Shang Qinghua asks. He holds Mobei Jun just that much tighter. “What about that says I love you?”
“You were miserable,” Mobei Jun explains. “You were- Every day. You were sad every day.”
“Of course I was sad,” Shang Qinghua tells him. “My husband spent our wedding night away from my chambers. He avoids me at all costs. He refuses to look at me, much less speak to me.” He draws in a shaky breath when Mobei Jun presses his lips to his throat, helpless. “I wanted to be loved. I wanted you to love me. I was miserable because I thought that you would rather die than to love me.”
Mobei Jun lets out a wounded noise. “You were wrong,” he rasps out.
“Well, I know that now,” Shang Qinghua says.
He’s smiling, if slightly exasperated, when Mobei Jun looks at him.
“You came back,” Mobei Jun says.
Shang Qinghua’s eyes crinkle. “I hadn’t left yet,” he confesses. “I made it as far as my chambers before I figured I shouldn’t be leaving empty-handed. I thought it’d be fair if I at least asked for a cottage or something.” He jabs lightly at Mobei Jun’s chest. “You didn’t even offer me any money! Or say I could have the dowry Cang Qiong gave to you back! The terms of the annulment were terrible! Anyone with good sense would’ve disputed it!”
Mobei Jun smiles. There. That’s his Shang Qinghua.
“I did like that you tried to expound on my virtues, though, but ah, I think you were really laying it on a little thick. No-one would’ve believe that the things you wrote were about me-”
Mobei Jun kisses him silent. There’s no need for him to learn what he did wrong with his xiushu; he’ll never have any reason to write another one.
“My king?” Shang Qinghua gasps when they part.
He shivers, and Mobei Jun cannot tell if it’s from the cold of the rain, or their earlier kiss. Hmm. Nothing that a few more trials won’t be able to settle.
“Let’s consummate our marriage, Qinghua,” Mobei Jun decides, and then sweeps Shang Qinghua up in an easy bridal carry, heading for his chambers. “Let this husband make up for our wedding night.”