Chapter Text
Ruling is a craft that can be improved upon, Boya considers after a full year into his reign. The first few months were tough on him. While still grieving the loss of his cousin and her young son - Boya was doomed to shoulder the crown given their premature demise. The court was in disarray when he ascended as Emperor. Fangyue had been in a deep depression before she passed, for years the task of ruling was left to her right hand man and confidant - He Shouyue.
At only nineteen most expected Boya to be a docile if not gullible ruler. His reputation as a demon hunter led many to believe he is disinterested in the finer points of policy and politics. The court nobles mostly ignored Boya and fought amongst themselves for power. When they did approach him with factious smiles and empty words it was to win his favor over some trivial matter they were embroiled in.
He Shouyue remains the dominant power in court for he controlled the flow of informants that come and go unseen in the palace and beyond. Unfortunately for Boya, he is not very fond of his new Emperor. The noblemen of the court, and by extension, their spies are Boya’s eyes and ears. Without their fidelity he is lost in the dark.
But the winds began to change a few months after his coronation. After some diligent detective work and many hours of informal meetings, Boya started to understand the intricacies of court relations. He remained a rather blunt instrument throughout, unrefined in concealing his true intentions. Given time he learned to separate those who used his naivety against him and those who protected him because of it. Contrary to his initial belief, the court is not entirely corrupt. So he came to treasure the few good apples found in the rotten bunch. When a new crop of servants were brought into the palace they were quickly scooped up by those truly loyal as his spies.
Today, Boya returns to the Imperial Forest for another hunt. Unlike a year ago - this feels more like a reward rather than an escape. He rides tall on his horse losing his men far behind, as it's his usual practice.
Before he’s made it very far into the forest a rustle in the distance slows him down. Boya is even more intrigued when a white tail flutters above the tops of the brush. Normal creatures do not wear white coats this far south - so a demon it is then.
If he is honest with himself, Boya would admit he has been on the lookout for exactly this. Ever since his run-in with the ethereal fox demon last year he hoped to see the man again. The flute he was gifted has become a prized possession if not for its gorgeous full sound then as a memento of that meeting.
The intrigue of the stranger is what keeps him on Boya’s mind - because Boya is not so easily distracted by something as frivolous as beauty. He has considered using the magic eye he’s been given. But what shall he say if Qingming actually showed up upon his request? Nothing satisfactory ever came to mind.
A white fox demon has popped its head up through the grass and Boya’s breath catches. Is it him?
Just as he is about to approach it the demon flees. By the time Boya realizes it is running not from him, but what’s behind him, it’s too late.
——
Boya wakes up in a cave. His body aches from the blunt trauma of being knocked off his horse. He must have been dragged here because his armor is askew and covered in dirt. His weapons, gone.
Boya searches his body for anything that can aid his escape. Trying to move his right arm proves to be difficult - broken then. He knows Qingming’s talisman is tucked away beneath his armor, yet even now he hesitates to reach for it.
A hiss comes from the darkness beyond his sight. Activating his third eye Boya can see a towering snake slithering towards him. It does not hesitate before striking him with a vicious bite.
“Ah!” Boya cries in pain. “Okay, you bastard… This counts as an emergency…”
Groaning, he pulls out the talisman and flings it to the cave wall. The snake is unbothered by his action and tries to strike again. Boya rolls to his side, just quick enough to avoid a second bite.
“Alright Qingming… you better be watching - I need you…”
Before Boya can finish his thought an orange light sets the cave walls ablaze. A figure dressed in white steps through the portal, his form in stark contrast against the darkness.
Seeing a new prey, the snake demon lurches forward to attack. The Yin Yang master does not flinch. With a flick of his fan and another flash of light the commotion suddenly stops. The cave falls silent.
It takes a moment for Boya to realize what has happened. Before him lies the body of the snake but it has been cut in half - it’s head is nowhere to be seen. And just like that, the ‘emergency’ is over.
“Are you alright?”
Qingming has turned to him now. His previous unflinching coolness is replaced by genuine worry.
“I’m… fine.” Boya stutters at his rescuer’s concern. Finally getting a good look at him.
“You’ve been bitten…” Qingming observes.
“Oh. It’s fine - I feel…” Boya trails off when his vision begins to blur.
“Boya!”
Boya does not feel the arms that catch him nor does he hear the desperation in Qingming’s voice praying for him to be alright.
——
When Boya wakes again he is no longer in the demon cave. The bright airy room he finds himself in is a much appreciated change in scenery. For a moment Boya thinks he is back in the palace but his mind cannot place the ceiling he is looking at. He tries to get up and observe more of the room but finds his body unwilling to comply.
It feels like a mountain is weighing down on him. All attempts to move his limbs are frustratingly futile. There is a ringing in his ears and a dull haze shrouding his mind. The harder he fights the heavier his body becomes. Panic starts to grip Boya when his lungs fail to draw full breaths. The dull buzz he woke up to is getting louder and louder until it rings and becomes the only thing Boya can focus on. It is scrambling his consciousness, trying to pull him back into darkness. He fights it, terrified he’d never wake up again.
In his preoccupation and panic, Boya misses the telltale glow of orange light. He is startled when Qingming suddenly comes into view above him.
There must be fear in his eyes because Qingming’s expression is that of commiseration. He puts a cool hand on Boya’s forehead and it soothes him a little.
“Oh dear… you woke up before the venom has worked its way through…” Qingming explains to him.
“You are going to be alright… try to calm down, don’t fight it.”
Qingming’s voice is gentle. He moves to stroke Boya’s hair like he is an ailing child needing comfort. Given any other circumstance Boya would be angered by this indignity. But right now, and he hates to admit it, the gesture is bringing him great comfort. He is eventually lulled back to sleep by it. Later this would cause much turmoil in the young Emperor, for he never thought he’d feel safe in the presence of a demon.
——
The third time Boya wakes it is night time. He is still in the room he does not recognize and this time Qingming is already present. Well, sort of.
The man has fallen asleep at his bedside. Still dressed in white, his hair is loose and spilling over his robes like ink on canvas. Resting on the floor, Qingming is draped over his bedside like a fainted maiden, with his head resting on an outstretched arm. The soft fabric of his sleeve pools a little higher than it is decent, exposing much of his forearm. Boya's gaze pauses at the sight of Qingming’s fair skin and the long garish scar that mar it.
The scar troubles Boya. Demons are known to heal their wounds without a trace. What could have possibly left a lasting mark on this old fox?
His thought is interrupted when Qingming stirs and for the first time Boya feels Qingming's hand on his. Shocked, Boya jerks his head up to get a better look. Indeed, Qingming's outstretched arm ends in the gentle grip of his upturned palm.
'How improper!' Boya exclaims, or the best approximation there of his disused voice allows.
This wakes Qingming, who after a moment of locating the thing that is improper sees their intertwined hands.
“Ah…”
The man withdrawals, his only comment on the matter being a shameless grin.
“How do you feel?” Qingming asks, moving to sit on the bed next to Boya.
Boya can only stare back up at the man, speechless at his impropriety. Has he forgotten who Boya is? How dare he sit so casually next to his Emperor as if they are equal in station!
“Perhaps some tea then…” Qingming deflects with a quick smile, recognizing he has caused offense to his royal guest.
Without needing an answer the man hurries away, gliding across the room with his robes trailing him like a tail. Boya watches Qingming’s back as some clattering can be heard in the preparation of tea.
“Is this your home?” Boya finally speaks when the silence between them becomes too awkward to ignore.
Qingming’s back straightens by a few inches, tensing at the question.
“Yes…” Qingming answers.
“And no…” He adds as he turns around with a tray in hand.
Boya waits for elaboration but nothing more comes from the man. Qingming returns subtly changed. His intimate warmth has disappeared into cordial formality. Setting the tray next to Boya, Qingming kneels neatly by the bed like a servant, head bowed as proper decorum would demand him do. Oddly unsettled by Qingming’s new demeanor, Boya does not press the matter further.
Propping himself up on his good arm, he takes the tea Qingming hands him and drinks it eagerly. His parched throat is thankful for the smoothing liquid.
“How long have I been here? Has word been sent to the palace?” He asks, dreading the answer. Regardless how long he’s been away, it’s too long.
“Only a day, your majesty - and yes word was sent this morning, as soon as I… retrieved you.” Qingming replies kindly but his expression remains opaque to Boya.
“It’s important I return to the court as soon as possible. Are we close to the capital?”
“We are not close in the strictest sense of the word... But I shall aid your majesty’s return first thing in the morning.”
“With one of your portals?” Boya quirks a brow, sounding a bit too eager.
“If that is what your majesty wishes.”
“It is.”
“Very well, your majesty.”
——
Come morning Boya regrets having to leave Qingming’s estate so soon. He also regrets the wall of formality now wedged in every interaction he has with the fox demon.
Qingming is evidently a bit of a bastard, that much is clear from their first meeting. But the revelation to surprise Boya is that he enjoys this about Qingming. Of course he only recognized this fact after Qingming has hidden himself away.
They are now in a carriage en route to the palace. Qingming’s portal has only taken them so far. They both agreed it would be in bad taste for the demon to bring Boya directly into the palace. Boya can imagine the scandal. Picturing He Shouyue’s resentment in particular leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Being head priest of the palace is only one of his many roles - he would not take kindly to challenges to his power.
“You can stop pretending to be so proper. Having seen the other side of you, this is unsettling.” Boya finally relents and calls Qingming’s bluff.
His companion doesn’t respond immediately but a private smile flickers across his features.
“As you wish.” Qingming responds, gaze still casted downwards.
Boya is hopeful for a moment but the warmth does not last. Yet again, only creaking from the cartwheels fills the space between them.
“I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet… for saving me.” Boya volunteers, hoping to get a few words out of Qingming.
“Not necessary, I was only repaying a debt, remember?”
“A debt you happily incurred. Curious…”
“Suppose I enjoy your majesty’s company?” Qingming slides him a glance, a hint of humor returning to his eyes.
Boya rolls his, but the conversation is improving his mood.
“And why is that? We’ve barely just met.”
“You remind me of someone I knew a long time ago.”
Given the familiarity Qingming so casually displayed upon meeting Boya - his Emperor - Boya finds himself needing to learn more about this man, if only to regain some of the power he feels he’s lost to Qingming.
“Oh yeah? Who was he to you?”
It’s an innocent enough question, but a pause lingers on Qingming’s lips as if he is weighing the response carefully. He lets out a long breath and in its absence a smile spreads through his whole being. Tilting his head, Qingming meets Boya’s gaze for the first time that day.
“Someone I loved very much.” He says softly.
Qingming’s words knock the air out of Boya. It is as if something he should not know has been revealed. His brows knit in confusion and a feeling not dissimilar to horror grips him.
“What?” A hiss is all Boya can manage.
Qingming has been studying his reaction closely and looks injured by Boya’s disbelief and what appears to be disgust. With a few blinks, as if clearing something from his eyes, Qingming retreats behind the wall of propriety.
“A jest… I’ve become reckless in my old age. Please forgive me, your majesty.”
Boya lets out a grunt as if to wave the incident away. But something he cannot name continues to churn in his heart, even long after he’s returned home.
——
Three months after Qingming delivers Boya back to the palace an imperial decree arrives at the sect.
As will of the Heaven, this decree is for you - Qingming, Headmaster of the Northern Sect of Yin Yang, is hereby summoned to the Imperial City and serve as Head Priest of the Royal Palace by the Emperor himself.
Reading this settles the nervous heart Qingming has been carrying for the past few months. He suspected something like this would come. The shishens he’s installed in the palace to help Boya govern occasionally will pass him news. Qingming has learned that He Shouyue, the current Head Priest of the palace and reincarnation of his old master, has been especially fowl in the recent weeks.
Qingming desperately wants to see Boya again and he is immeasurably relieved he has not overstepped so as to lose the young emperor’s favor. But to demote He Shouyue is a reckless move… just like his Boya to be so precipitous, Qingming thinks unable to hold back a smile.
His own eagerness towers over any reservations he has over the decree. Whatever happens, he will be by Boya’s side soon. And there is nothing he won’t do to protect this incarnation of the soul he’s chased for a thousand years.