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Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky might have been broke in the modern world with no money left for expensive hobbies. Nonetheless, he always believed he had an artistic soul yearning to create. Sure, Proud Immortal Demon Way helped him tide over financial difficulties, but he was not sure he could look at it with true pride. Even without tongue-slashing by his black powder fans, Airplane knew his novel was subpar. His fans would probably know more about the plot holes than the author himself did. Would the story be better had he not lost the original draft or caved in to the readers’ demands? This question had been nagging at the back of his mind since he was born in the world of his own making.

Ah, xianxia world, full of wonders and heroic feats. The illogical and magical world crafted by Shang Qinghua’s own hands. And yet. It was missing something. Something vital. Something he missed from the 21st century…

Gundams! Diorama! Figurine painting!

How was an otaku supposed to live without the internet? No memes, no cute cat videos, no proper modern entertainment. Shang Qinghua was dying of boredom. The system had given him tasks related to his cannon fodder role. Yes, it kept him busy for a long while. Lately though, the system had become quieter since he was on his way to succeed his shizun as An Ding Peak Lord. With nothing left to do but to wait for his shizun’s generation to ascend, Shang Qinghua wondered if he should go back to writing. Thinking back on the last chapter of PIDW he posted all those years ago, he brushed off the idea entirely. There was no telling whether the system would just incorporate his new work into the existing world for lark? His world was already unpredictable with pokemons masquerading as spiritual beasts. Any more papapa plants or scenario pushers seemed excessively troublesome.

For several reasons, he decided to take up making figurines. His first project? Gundam! Although Airplane had an allowance for his personal expenses as the head disciple, it did not mean he was rich. Thus, he had taken to gathering unused materials - plain trash - that every peak did not want to build his first Gundam. But hey, one man’s trash was another man’s treasure!

Shang Qinghua had access to every peak’s junk as the logistics peak took count of inventory and calculated the cost of obsolete materials. For instance, Airplane had collected some bamboo wood chips from Qing Jing Peak’s bamboo grove since the scholarly peak needed have their trees trimmed and maintained regularly.

At first, his shizun Peak Lord Yu was puzzled by his head disciple’s request to take some of the unwanted pieces of Qing Jing’s bamboo trees. Although the dead bamboo wood still possessed a small amount of spiritual energy, there was no use for the less quality wood save for kindling. After all, bamboo wood eliminated from the forest was not suitable to create musical instruments or spiritual artifacts.

Shang Qinghua smiled timidly to his shizun, “Shizun, this disciple is requesting for the bamboo wood for my own entertainment.”

Peak Lord Yu did not bat his eyes at the disciple’s response, instead he asked, “Oh, what does Qinghua mean by entertainment?”

Shang Qinghua replied, “It’s a hobby of mine, shizun. This disciple likes to make things but does not have the budget for necessary materials.”

Airplane’s shizun stroked at his chin, “I see. Well, I do not see a problem with it. I trust you will go through the proper procedures and make sure everything is taken care of.”

With his shizun’s approval, Shang Qinghua started to dive into the junkyard of Cang Qiong Mountain. This world did not have plastic and other manufactured materials compared to his previous home world. However, part of the fun was using limited resources to build what he wanted. To start off, Airplane headed off to Bu Tian Peak. This particular peak’s main responsibility was to create spiritual artifacts for the sect. Often, the byproducts of Bu Tian’s numerous experiments ended up recycled and disposed of by An Ding Peak. When he asked Tan Qingye - head disciple of Bu Tian - for something like moldable crafting materials, his shidi took him to a cart full of junks and took out a pot of clay-like substance. It turned out one of the senior disciples accidentally created polymer clay when she intended to create an alloy for a spiritual weapon.

When Shang Qinghua told Tan Qingye about his xianxia Gundam project, the Bu Tian disciple got enthusiastic. The two had chatted for half a shichen before Tan shidi had to return to his own alchemy project. Tan shidi even gave him a bottle of his high-grade craft glue and asked his shixiong to let him see the final product. Shang Qinghua felt all warm and fuzzy inside that he might have just found a fellow nerd in the younger boy.

With all the basic materials in hand, Shang Qinghua began working on the base for his Gundam display. He made a flat base out of the polymer clay. To make the surface flat, Shang Qinghua put his heavy cultivation manuals on the top of the basic and a sizable rock to wait for it to set. For the foundation of the Gundam figurine, he pieced together a stick figure made out of bamboo wood. Once he was sure the stick figure was not going to collapse without his hands to support, he started to apply polymer clay to the stick figure. Shang Qinghua scooped a small ball of clay and shaped it into a small dome. On this small dome, he made lines of indentation in the middle to create the eyes and mouth. To create the classic samurai robot look, he slapped an antler-shaped piece of clay on the head.

It took him a whole day to complete the details on the Gundam’s body. The arms were uneven in width and length, and the feet looked more like elephant trunks than the angular robot feet. Airplane winced a little at the robot hands he made. Those were not even hands anymore. Even calling them claws were being generous. He comforted himself that this was only his first try. After all, beginners had to start somewhere. It was only natural his first creation would look ugly. Best not to let Tan shidi see this, or he would never have the face to face him again.

There was no modern sandpaper to rough up the texture of the clay figure, so Shang Qinghua instead used the head of a branched horsetail. The horsetail was not ideal for DIY like sandpaper. Of all the substitutes he had gathered so far, the horsetail was the one thing he dreaded the most. Without this step, the paint would look uneven. Well, it was an experiment, Shang Qinghua repeatedly told himself. He had already accepted the fact that his first Gundam was not going to look good. Might as well see through the process.

When Airplane decided that he had done enough damage to touch-up the clay figure, he took out the painting kit he bought from his own pocket. This kit was the only thing he bought for this project, and it depleted his monthly allowance in one go. Shang Qinghua teared up at the thought of his empty money bag.

In Airplane’s head, he envisioned a Gundam figure with blue and white base colours. Maybe adding a couple gold trims to highlight the lines and angles of the robot. Though he was too poor to afford real gold tin foil, the yellow ocher in the painting kit was not a bad choice. With the design in mind, Shang Qinghua grinded the paint powders and mixed them with water. Slowly, the paints reached the desired consistency. As the paintbrush touched the rough surface of the robot, the clay immediately absorbed the liquid.

By the time Shang Qinghua finished painting the white base coat, it was almost time for lunch. His stomach growled so he finally cast the paintbrush aside. At first glance, the Gundam did not look so bad, if a little plain. Leaving the robot to dry, Shang Qinghua jogged down to the dining hall for a quick bite and jumped into his daily responsibilities. When his shizun saw the blotted white stains, the older man said nothing and pointed him to a new stack of paperwork.

Shang Qinghua worked until after Hai-shi (9pm). By the time he went back to his room, Shang Qinghua did not even change his clothes when he laid on his bed. A beam of moonlight encased his Gundam in an ethereal light. His eyes were slowly closing but they were on the clay figurine the entire time.

Shang Qinghua mumbled, “Just wait til ‘morrow. You’re gonna be a beauttt - “

Airplane fell asleep, dreaming of a Gundam soaring into the sky. Its feet were emitting jets of snow and vapor. Instead of a rocket launcher, a pair of cobalt blue wings was attached to the back of the Gundam. Gold veins were spreading from the icy cold eyes. In its hand, the robot held a dark midnight blue sword. As the Gundam paused at the top of the sky, it swung its sword to send hail upon the mortal realm. Each tiny drop of hail fell at terminal velocity and formed into a pillar. Soon, the lush green land was impaled by multiple ice pillars. From the hail-turned pillars, grass turned white and water froze. Suddenly, Shang Qinghua was standing in an arctic meadow.

The white-and-blue Gundam descended upon the transformed land and approached Shang Qinghua with controlled pace. Its golden eyes gazed at Airplane, and Airplane gulped at the sheer size of his robot. The Gundam was towering over him, but he was used to being dwarfed by his king anyway. Shang Qinghua gulped at the robot’s intense golden eyes. The Gundam seemed to be mulling over what to say. Eventually, it knelt down on one knee. Next to its giant feet, a blue-glazed lily bloomed. With surprising gentleness, the Gundam picked the flower from the ground and presented it to Shang Qinghua.

Shang Qinghua cried out, “F-for me?!”

The Gundam nodded and impatiently shoved the flower in Shang Qinghua’s face. Shang Qinghua took the lily and observed it. Upon close inspection, the blue lily was a common fauna He blushed at the almost romantic gesture even though he wished a certain someone else gave him the flower instead.

Just when he thought the robot could not talk, it talked in a familiar voice.

“Qinghua.”

Shang Qinghua yelped, “My-my king?! You’re the Gundam???”

At the shock of his king’s voice coming from his Gundam, Airplane woke up gasping and sweating. He did not change his uniform robe and now it clung to his torso. Looking outside the window pane, sunlight had yet to emerge completely from the horizon.

What a dream! The Gundam in his dream speaking in his king’s voice was giving him all sorts of weird feelings. The combination was… surprisingly hot if he were to be honest. Then, he looked at the white-painted Gundam, left untouched since last night. Could the dream be a sign that he should finish painting today?

Shang Qinghua shot out of his bed and tossed his old robe onto the floor in exchange for a clean one. Inspired by his dream last night, Airplane decided to paint the Gundam in Mobei Jun’s colour theme. As he hastily finished dressing up and tying his hair into a messy bun, Shang Qinghua was smiling the whole time, thinking the dream was a sign of good fortune.

With a vigor he had not experienced since fighting for the position of head disciple, Shang Qinghua put layers of blue-coloured pigments on his beloved creation. He had mixed several shades of blue but none captured the majestic vibe of his ideal Gundam. Shang Qinghua sighed in dissatisfaction but continued to apply the finishing touches here and there.

Watching the paint dry was supposed to be tedious, but Shang Qinghua could not help but admire his handiwork. Already, he had several ideas on how to improve his craftsmanship and where to obtain new materials. Perhaps he should add more lighter colours to give highlights on the carapace, or mixing darker colours In order to let the paint stay on the clay surface, he carefully picked the Gundam from the bottom of the base and went outside.

At this point of time, the entire sect was already up and working, and Airplane did not feel a bit fatigued from hours of working on his art project. As he placed his robot onto the ground, he took out a small sheet of fire talisman. This fire talisman, unlike the usual battle-grade version, was much weaker but it was most ideal for trivial things like baking the paint on his Gundam. Shang Qinghua let his spiritual energy ignite the talisman and threw it upon the painted clay figure. He jumped a good distance away to avoid any potential explosion. After observing the talisman at work for a few minutes, Airplane determined that it should be safe to leave the talisman to do its work.

Just as he returned to his living quarters, Shang Qinghua saw a green billowing robe hovering outside his front door. It was Shen Qingqiu along with his spiritual dragon Cutebone! He sprinted to his shixiong and bowed a little deeper than necessary. Although the man’s mood seemed rather neutral, Shen Qingqiu still had not fully forgiven his past transgressions. Why did the man decide to visit him today?

Shang Qinghua anxiously greeted the Qing Jing disciple, “Good morning, Shen shixiong. How may I help you today?”

“Were you not the one who volunteered to watch over Cutebone for the day?” Shen Qingqiu snorted, “I’m taking over some of my shizun’s duties today, so I can’t watch Cutebone. I do hope you’re not going back on your word.”

Shang Qinghua shook his head vigorously, “Of course not! You can bet on it, Shen shixiong. Cutebone will have nothing to want for at my place.”

Cutebone walked to Shang Qinghua’s feet. Its claws clutched onto the pale blue sleeve as if it was searching for something.

Shen Qingqiu, immediately noticing Cutebone’s behaviour, lightly scolded it, “Stop poking into Shang shidi’s sleeve for treats. I taught you better than that.”

Cutebone retreated its claws but stood a while longer to sniff at Shang Qinghua to see if the man really hid an apple somewhere on his body. However, Cutebone gagged upon catching a whiff of the leftover paint on An Ding’s disciple’s hands. The dragonling fled to an empty space to catch its breath.

Shen Qingqiu frowned and turned to his shidi with a withering glare, “Did you touch some toxin today?”

Shang Qinghua stuttered, “W-what? No, NO, of course not. I was painting something earlier this morning.”

As a disciple of the scholarly peak, Shen Qingqiu raised a brow at Shang shidi’s answer. His sharp eyes spotted the white and blue residues on Shang Qinghua’s skin and sleeve. Indeed, the paint was fresh enough to corroborate his shidi’s statement. What was the errand runner trying to make?

“Oh? This I have to hear. Just what are you painting this morning, shidi?”

Shang Qinghua froze. He was bewildered that the scum villain/Mother of Dragons was curious enough to ask about his little hobby. Even though he mostly worked in An Ding Peak, he had heard Shen Jiu was a talented artist in landscapes. Although Qing Jing Peak did not require all of its students to learn pottery or sculpture, the scholars were well-known for their vast knowledge of art history in general. It should surprise no one that Shen Jiu would be well-versed in assessing the quality of a clay sculpture too. This was the moment Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky experienced deja vu from his past life time.

Oh shit, Shen Qingqiu’s tongue-lashing is no less harsh than my most ironically loyal critic Peerless Cucumber. If he dislikes my Gundam, there is no way he’s gonna hold back. How come I can never escape harsh criticism no matter which world I live in?

Shang Qinghua started to get jitters under Shen Qingqiu’s expecting gaze. Meanwhile, Cutebone got bored by the humans’ conversation and began to explore on its own. Its tiny feet carried it to the backyard of Shang Qinghua’s living area. It stood on the edge of an open area encircled by banyan trees. In the middle of the open area, Shang Qinghua’s Gundam stood silently. The fire talisman stuck on the Gundam steadily fed fire into the clay figure.

While Shang Qinghua was right to use a weaker fire talisman to bake the paint on the Gundam, he forgot to take the baking time and the ambiguous nature of Bu Tian’s experimental clay into account. After all, the clay was a byproduct of a failed experiment to begin with. Tempering with substance with unknown property tended to have dire consequences. Cutebone might be a youngling of its species, but even the dragonling knew a danger from a distance. The clay figure had red cracks all over its body, waiting to explode.

Living with Shen Qingqiu had instilled a discipline into the young dragon. When Shen Jiu had to get away from the kitchen stove for whatever reason, Cutebone was taught to mind the cooking pot on Small Mother’s behalf. When the water started to boil, it would go get Shen Jiu. Sometimes, when Liu Qingge insisted on cooking for Shen Jiu, Cutebone was also told to find Small Mother, so the Bai Zhan head disciple would not decimate the kitchen.

Cutebone agilely dashed back to Small Mother and shook Shen Qingqiu’s sleeve, pointing its claw at the backyard. Looking towards where Cutebone was anxiously pointing at, Shen Qingqiu became alarmed and ushered the dragon behind his back. Shang Qinghua immediately knew something went wrong with his Gundam.

Before Airplane could race back to his backyard, the sound of an explosion travelled to where the three stood.

“Oh no,” Shang Qinghua whispered to himself. He ran before Shen Qingqiu could call him back.

When Airplane stumbled to his backyard, he was devastated by the hellish sight of his ruined clay figure. His Gundam was once white and blue. Yet, the small tar lump in front of him was nothing but a corpse of Airplane’s dream. Said pile of tar looked like a swamp man tumbling towards its next victim. There was even the sound of steam from the humanoid tar that sounded like a freakishly inhuman scream.

Shen Qingqiu calmly stopped behind and took a peek from behind his shidi. Shang Qinghua did not need to turn around to see his shixiong’s face of disapproval. Cutebone was so scared by Shang Qinghua’s robot’s hideous form it was whimpering and clutching Shen Qingqiu’s robe for comfort. Honestly, Shang Qinghua would like to hold onto a certain demon’s thigh for comfort too, but life was unfair as usual.

While Shang Qinghua was deep in grief for his dead robot son, Shen Jiu strode towards the artistic disaster and paused to assess the damage. The cold beauty twirled his war fan and cast a wave of wind to chase away the sharp burning smell. The summoned wind also cooled down the destroyed clay figurine. Shen Qingqiu hummed as he took in the tar-like matter dripping down the humanoid figurine.

“Shang shidi,” Shen Qingqiu said, “Where did you get the material from? This substance does not look like any medium I’ve seen.”

“Umm, it’s, it’s from Bu Tian…”

Shen Qingqiu frowned, “Bu Tian?”

“Y-yeah, Tan shidi gave me the clay to work with? I asked him if there is anything malleable and safe for me to play with.” Shang Qinghua regained some composure, “He said it’s from a failed experiment but the clay is too inert to be used in artifact refining. So he gave it away. Also, I was fresh out of money after buying the painting kit, so I gotta scrimp when I can.”

Shen Qingqiu angled his fan to cover his mouth, “Tell me more about the paint pigments. Where did you get it?”

Shang Qinghua scratched his head. Where was this line of questioning going?

“I got it from one of the market stalls. I don’t know much about paints, so I just picked up one I could afford,” said Shang Qinghua. He really wanted to curl into a ball. Now would be a really good time.

Shen Qingqiu sighed in contempt, “I think I have a good idea where your little project went wrong.”

Cutebone and Shang Qinghua both tilted its head at Shen Qingqiu in confusion.

Shen Jiu rolled his eyes, “You’re using a material of spiritual nature, and yet you didn’t think to ask for more information beyond its usefulness. Judging by the smell of your failure, “Shen Qingqiu’s nose twitched at the offending clay figurine, “the painting kit you used is cheap but it contains certain catalysts that react badly with spiritually enriched matter. Tan shidi may be a decent artifact refiner, but he is no artist. Had it been me, I would have warned you not to do whatever you just did.”

Shang Qinghua’s shoulders slumped. He was tempted to cry out his frustration regardless of the current company. Sensing the human’s distress, Cutebone trotted to Shang Qinghua’s side. It tried to pat his back but couldn’t due to its height. Cutebone opted to use its bone club and gently pat Shang Qinghua’s back. Shang Qinghua felt something solid going back and forth on his back and turned to see Cutebone trying to make him feel better. Airplane tossed the last shred of his dignity and hugged the dragonling for comfort. The dragon skull was digging into his chest, but Shang Qinghua did not care. Hours of sweat and blood had gone up in literal fire. He was not one to deny himself emotional comfort when it presented itself.

Shen Qingqiu gawked at Shang Qinghua’s emotional display. He a former slave had endured many beatings and humiliation at the hands of cruel men, but he had trained himself not to show tears to strangers. The only one who had seen his tears was Qi Ge (and maybe Liu Qingge). The shorter man was even wailing. Initially, Cutebone was overwhelmed by Shang Qinghua’s crying. Although it could have gotten out of the man’s teary embrace, Cutebone just let itself be held in the awkward position.

Shen Jiu knew he was ill-equipped to provide any emotional comfort. Had Shang Qinghua been a young meimei, it might have been a different story. Nevertheless, the sight of a grown man’s tears was too much for him to handle, and Cutebone seemed more than capable of keeping Shang Qinghua’s company in this trying time. Reminded by the appointment he had with his shizun, Shen Jiu turned his heels and briskly walked away without saying a word.

After a whole day of learning the ropes from Qing Jing Peak Lord, Shen Jiu made his way to An Ding Peak to pick up his spiritual dragon. Instead of knocking on the front door, Shen Jiu made a beeline for the backyard as Shang Qinghua’s voice boomed in the back. By the sound of it, it seemed the his shidi was using a shovel, probably cleaning up his backyard.

“I never thought making a fricking Gundam is gonna be so hard, Cutebone. Shen Qingqiu is right, but mannnnnn I wish I had known to ask for more info from Tan shidi before I went and destroyed my baby, y’know,” Shang Qinghua tiredly sighed, “But who’s to say I won’t mess up again, huh? Maybe I should just stick to writing novels, but I just don’t feel like it recently…”

An Ding’s head disciple whined some more while shoveling the tar-tainted dirt into a wooden cart. He seemed to have cleared up the majority of the area. Shen Qingqiu observed how his spiritual dragon helped the lethargic Shang Qinghua shove the tar substance with its own bone club. The dragonling paused what it was doing, turned its head in the direction of the entrance, and immediately ran towards Shen Jiu with enthusiasm. Shen Qingqiu petted Cutebone’s head and frowned when he felt the unpleasant graininess of dirt on his hand. Cutebone was covered in soot helping Shang Qinghua clean the aftermath. Shen Jiu took out his embroidered handkerchief to wipe down the black spots on its paws and skull. After being cleaned, Cutebone caught its Small Mother’s hand and pulled Shen Jiu next to the downtrodden Shang Qinghua as if Shen Jiu was exactly the right person to comfort a sad human. Said human was still sobbing next to a pile of trash.

Shen Jiu was neither soft nor warm. Every word uttered by his poisonous tongue steered people away from him. By some miracle, ever since Liu Qingge brought Cutebone to Shen Qingqiu’s bamboo house, the scholar had an easier time getting along with his martial siblings. Despite his own reluctance, Cutebone tugged the sleeve of its human mother and begged him to do something with a pitiful whine. The things he did for the bratty dragon…  

Standing a safe distance from the disgusting mess, Shen Qingqiu grumbled, “Shang shidi, if you give up after only one attempt, no wonder you have nothing to strive for.”

“What-what, that’s so mean, Shen shixiong. I just experienced the death of my son, and now you are stepping all over my heart?!”

“Well, I guess shidi doesn’t want help with improving his craftsmanship then.”

“Hey, that’s not - What?!” Shang Qinghua squawked.

The An Ding disciple let go of his shovel, which landed on his foot. Shang Qinghua yelped in pain but his eyes did not leave his shixiong.

“Is Shen shixiong – is Shen shixiong offering to teach me how to art?”

“Stop using art as a verb if you have any respect for it.”

“Yes shixiong!” said Shang Qinghua who was now crying tears of joy and kowtowing in reverence to Shen Jiu.

Shang Qinghua was this close to literally hugging the thighs of Shen Qingqiu. After all, the best of Qing Jing Peak was offering to teach him how to paint, with no cost at all (if you look past all the expense reports incurred from dragon-caring so far)! He was this close to hugging Shen Jiu, but the man’s glare instilled fear within him.

The ex-scum villain said, “Try not to make me regret this.”

And with that, Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua scheduled a series of art lessons. Both head disciples were busy with the transitions of the Peak Lord duties, so they had to limit the lesson time to once a week. In their first lesson, Shen Jiu found out Shang Qinghua had some basic training in drawing diagrams in the sect manuals. An Ding and Xian Shu shared the duties of copying instruction manuals before each recruitment season. With the basic training in mind, Shen Jiu taught him how to use different media to create the effects he wanted in sculpture. At one point, Shen shixiong even took him to his bamboo house to demonstrate how to create colour pigments.

“The best kind of paint pigment is the one you make yourself, if you’re on a tight budget,” said Shen Qingqiu.

Shang Qinghua widened his eyes at the still blue Heracrosses lying on the floor.

He yelped, “What are those?! I thought Liu shidi no longer kills spiritual animals for you?”

RIP Heracrosses, you will be missed by no one except this millennial.

Shen Qingqiu turned away in indignant embarrassment, “He hadn’t. That was the case until he learned that Zhangmen shixiong tried to gift me an expensive set of paintbrushes. At least this time Liu Qingge got those due to an infestation problem in a small village down south.”

Wow, the scum villain sure is popular these days. Maybe I should made you the protagonist and written a BL novel out of it. Ha, wonder how Peerless Cucumber will think of that.

Shen Jiu closed his fan with a snap, “Anyway, that’s not important. Help me disassemble the carapace of the beetles, and I’ll show you how to make pigments from the body parts. Liu Qingge killed too many of these bugs, so I might as well give away some to you.”

They each shucked out the hard shells of the exoskeleton with a whittling knife. Shen Jiu instructed him to cut the shells into smaller pieces and crush them in a mortar. Once the hard shells were turned into smaller bits, they heated the mortar up and added special reagents to remove the impurities within the crushed shells. After an hour, Shang Qinghua had a box of blue colour pigment in his hand. As a young man from the modern world, he never thought of how paint pigments were made. The whole process was eye-opening to him. Airplane also noted that Shen Jiu was secretly pleased that someone outside his peak appreciated the hard work going into making custom pigments.

Once they finished cleaning up, Shen Jiu shooed him away and ushered Cutebone to help him prepare dinner. Shang Qinghua kept the box of pigment in his robe. His mind was spinning from the possibilities. He hoped he did not have to kill pokemons like Liu Qingge did for Shen Jiu. If possible, he wanted to try a more humane approach when it came to custom paint pigments.

Making your own paint was hard. Capturing pokemons to obtain certain ingredients without hurting the animals? Ever harder than a stallion novel protagonist. Yet, he was determined to create the most beautiful rendition of Mobei Jun as a revenge from his first disaster. Shang Qinghua knew he needed to challenge the limits of his craft.

Airplane traced the nest of Butterfrees to a dense forest where people rarely frequented. As he got closer to the centre of the forest, Shang Qinghua took out his butterfly net and surveyed his surrounding for a Butterfree.

As luck would have it, there was one mature Butterfree suckling the nectar of a flower. He gingerly tiptoed until he was right behind the butterfly. It did not notice his presence. Seizing this opportunity, Airplane swooped in with his net, and voila! The Butterfree was in the net. Trapped within the net, the poor thing was struggling to get out. Once he made sure the net was secure, Shang Qinghua prepared to smoke the Butterfree with a smoke pellet so he could collect its wing dust to create sparkling effect in his pigments before letting it go. Concentrating solely on the dust collection, Airplane did notice the trapped butterfly had emitted a warning scent that sent its friends to flock and attack the human cultivator. Shang Qinghua fled the forest in panic. He couldn’t stop sneezing on his way back to his peak. On the bright side, though, the Butterfree swarm had blasted enough wing dust on him, giving him plenty of glitters for his new hobby.

There was no glue gun in this world. In the modern world, a glue gun could not only stick things together, it could also create amazing effect if used right. Shang Qinghua wanted a glue gun, or at least something close to it. The drool of Gloom from the first generation of Pokemons gave him the idea. Fortunately for him, Shang Qinghua did not need to fight off a battalion of protective Butterfrees this time. A dozing Gloom was not hard to find and generally docile and lazy. There was no trouble collecting the Gloom’s drool. The problem, however, came much later.

Shang Qinghua mixed blue pigment with the drool. He had hoped to make the known armour of Mobei Clan that his king would one day inherit. During the mixing, he accidentally spilled some of the sticky liquid onto his hands. Less than one hour later, the allergic reaction started bubbling on his skin. The spilled area on his hands felt scorching hot and itchy at the same time. So irritating was the rash, he immediately rushed to Qian Cao Peak. Mu Qingfang, the exasperated healer, deftly applied a salve on the red skin and tossed him a pair of specialty gloves to handle plant toxins. He was so touched by the gesture he noted in his mind to bring some nice tea when he came visit his shidi next time.

Aside from a few setbacks, everything was going well for Shang Qinghua. When Mobei Jun came to visit him in his bed chamber, the man seemed somewhat miffed.

Oh shit, I haven’t been reporting back lately, have I? Better hug my king’s beautiful thighs while he’s here.

Shang Qinghua threw his mortar and pestle to the side and diligently bowed before Mobei Jun.

“My king! This servant apologizes for his absence as of late!” Shang Qinghua bent his back so much it was almost horizontal to the floor.

“Hm,” Mobei Jun said,” Explain.”

Although the ice demon king’s face seemed unmoving and, well, icy, Shang Qinghua could see the slightly protrusion of a tiny pout. His spoiled son always expected him to be there to service him. A small detraction from that pattern would throw a tantrum and earn himself a beating.

It should be an easy response in one or two sentences. Shang Qinghua, however, could not bring him to explain to Mobei Jun that he had been trying to recreate a mini Mobei Jun. Would the man be creeped out by his newfound hobby? He did not want to be disliked by his ideal man ah!

“I, uh, I have been – “Shang Qinghua stammered.

While Shang Qinghua was trying to find a less creepy way to explain, Mobei Jun’s nose twitched at an unfamiliar smell in the human’s living quarters. He spotted a set of mortar on Shang Qinghua’s tiny desk and a pestle that was rolling towards the edge of the surface leaving a trail of sapphire blue pigment across the table. The smell was strong, mildly unpleasant to his sharp demonic senses. Almost like sulfuric, but not quite. Definitely of rotten egg kind. As the demon king turned his attention back to the shivering mess of a hamster. He noticed blue blotches on the cultivator’s hands.

“Are you painting?” Mobei frowned.

Shang Qinghua gulped, “I-I-um, I am mixing paints for an art project.”

Mobei ran out of patience.

The giant demon towered over the smaller human, “What did you say, Shang Qinghua?”

“Eek! Painting, my king! I am mixing paints to use on a sculpture! I’M SORRY I DIDN’T COME OVER FOR THE PAST TWO WEEKS, so please don’t kill me. I did not betray you or anything.” Airplane squeaked at the darkened face of his king. The timid man raised his arms to shield his face from upcoming punches.

The beating never came. Mobei Jun did not speak nor raise his fist, but the taller man’s frown loosened somewhat. He walked towards the wash basin standing next to Shang Qinghua’s bed. He dumped the towel hanging on the rack into the water basin. Next thing Shang Qinghua knew, his arms were hit by a wet towel at an immense speed. His king threw it so hard it hurt his face.

“Clean yourself,” Mobei Jun majestically turned his heels, “Report to me tomorrow.”

With a swipe of his claws, Mobei Jun tore open a portal and stepped into it without looking back at the gob-smacked Shang Qnighua. Not only did the demon not hit him once Shang Qinghua admitted his wrongdoing, he also cared enough to give him something to clean the paint off. Granted, he wished had not been hit by the force of what was essentially a wet whip. At least he was unharmed?

Under Shen Qingqiu’s tutelage, Shang Qinghua steadily improved. At first, he crafted a small figurine of Cutebone. The little sculpture was the size of a fist and came out way better than last time. The blue swamp man of his first attempt almost seemed like a distant nightmare. This mini dragonling had white and brown as its base colours. Within its skull, Shang Qinghua slapped two glass green beads so the eyes had a spark of life under the sunlight. The bone club in the dragonling’s tiny paw was made from the hardened drool of Gloom he collected before. The scale texture of Cutebone itself was dabbed with a mild application Butterfree wing dust and brownish grey paint he mixed himself. Overall, this little thing gained the approval of Cutebone who was cooing at a mini version of itself. Shen Jiu, while he did not give his shidi a compliment, told Airplane that he no longer needed the lessons.

“At least by now I probably don’t need to worry about you summoning a vengeful demon in your backyard,” Shen Qingqiu said. You can stand on your own now was left unsaid. This could be considered a compliment coming from the tsundere shixiong even though his shixiong’s comment was a little too close to the truth and thus almost gave him a heart attack.

Not satisfied with only making small figurines, Shang Qinghua was already sketching out several concepts for his future art projects. The big one on his to-do-list was making the diorama of the Northern Desert Palace. He would have to do this one in secret. After why would a future peak lord know about the layout and the secret rooms of a demonic lair, eh? Another project that no one should never, ever, know was that Airplane planned to make several sculptures of him. This would be even more scandalous than the demon palace project if anyone within his sect were to find out about his little secret crush on the sexiest demon in the world.

Bolstered by his confidence, Shang Qinghua decided it was time to invest more into his craft, and that meant buying specialized (read: expensive) tools. Namely, a set of x-acto knives. He met with an expert craftsman with all kinds of criteria for his desired set of craft knives. Scalpels with different heads to create different patterns and textures. The tool maker did not bat an eye at his odd requests as long as the cultivator was able to pay for it.

One month later, Shang Qinghua received the xianxia x-acto knives and he just couldn’t stop staring at them with admiration. The silvery sharp edge of the blades, the textured surface of each knife for easy gripping, the supple wood handles. At the end of each knife was the symbol of An Ding Peak engraved on it. He cooed at the sharp instruments for the entire day, thinking about what to create with these beauties.

At dinnertime, a flash of inspiration struck him. During the arc of Luo Binghe’s conquest in the demon realm, the new overlord of the demon realm had to host a lavish party with his second in command, in order to suss out his political enemies from his allies. For that chapter, Airplane waxed so much more poetry on Mobei Jun’s evening outfit than the sexy demoness spy’s ample bosom, some people had been giving him flak for it. He remembered everything he wrote about the handsome Mobei Jun. The jade white fur trimmed collar lapel was harvested from an indigenous snow tiger in the far reach of the Mobei clan’s territory. Elaborate stitchwork in silver thread contrasted against the rich azure fabric and ran across the entire robe hugging his beautiful demon son’s large body. Oh, how he wished to be the evening robe his man wore. To be able to drape himself over that muscular perfection.

“No, no, Shang Qinghua, you stop drooling over your son. What is a fantasy, stays a fantasy,” Airplane mumbled and lightly bonked himself with a long ruler as self-punishment.

Determined to materialize his fantasy into some form of reality, Airplane began practicing the use of the x-acto knives on a piece of wood in the evening. As expected, Shang Qinghua did not get everything right the first try, or even the fiftieth attempt. He got swaths of shallow cuts on his skin to prove his inexperience. He only finally stopped when his knife cut into his inner wrist. Panicking at the sight of the trickling blood, he slapped his hand to suppress the gushing blood. When that did not work as he wanted, Airplane berated himself for not remembering to bring out the first aid kit first.

“Aw, shit! Where’s my med kit?!” Shang Qinghua hyperventilated. His head was getting light and tight at the anxious sight of blood droplets on his clothes and the block of wood he was carving.

It was at the exact moment. A portal was slit open in the middle of his room. Mobei Jun entered with his usual neutral face, but even the demon froze upon his bleeding servant.

The demon growled and ran to wrangle the red-stained wrist from Shang Qinghua. Soon, all Shang Qinghua could feel was the numbing cold sensation. The blood was stopped and clotted. Mobei Jun just used his ice demon power to save him from a stupid death.

Shang Qinghua gulped, “This servant thanks his king for saving him from – “

Mobei Jun interrupted with a full view of his sharp fangs, “You can thank me by not doing something stupid!”

“M-my king?”

“You are this lord’s only – “

Mobei Jun could not seem to find the right word to describe what Shang Qinghua was to himself. In the end, he settled on snarling some more.

“Just don’t do something like this again,” the demon king looked away and let go of Shang Qinghua’s wrist.

It just so happened that the ice demon’s eyes landed upon the bloodied wood and several pristinely crafted knife. A deep rumbling rage roared within Mobei Jun’s cold chest.

“You will not operate with such foul tools again,” Mobei Jun glared at the offending x-acto knives.

“What? Please no, my king,” Shang Qinghua tried to placate his pissed king, “These are my art supplies. I just got those today and accidentally hurt myself! Forgive this servant’s clumsiness, for I’m just trying to get a hang of it.”

Mobei Jun looked like a disapproving cat whose owner was five minutes too late to feed him dinner. Shang Qinghua usually catered to his every whim and wish. It was not often the young prince was denied.

“There is no need to be alarmed, my king. I know this looks bad, but the knife didn’t even hit the artery.”

Mobei Jun was still not convinced although his arched posture eased somewhat upon checking Shang Qinghua’s wound. The taller man still would not stop glaring at the knives though.

Shang Qinghua coughed, “My king, if I may. I promise to be more careful in the future. I admit I have been rather… careless. And I did not take a break since dinner, so…”

Mobei Jun did not look any less murderous. Yup, still looking like a cat betrayed by a minor inconvenience his human caused.

“You will not neglect yourself in a fit of obsession. I need you…” Mobei Jun paused for a few seconds before continuing, “… to take on a mission in the near future, but I will allow you to rest for now.”

Shang Qinghua hurriedly bowed, “This servant thanks his king for his generosity.”

The demon left without another word. Shang Qinghua slumped over his work chair to take a breather. Glancing at the x-acto knife with his blood crusting on the blade edge, Shang Qinghua methodically cleaned the blade and went to sleep without his bloodied clothes on.

Scared by last night’s almost-death, Shang Qinghua swore to take breaks when making his project. While he too was busy in between the transition of peak lord responsibilities and the usual disciple work, he always took time to give his little Mobei Juns and his other babies attentions. If his hands slipped and made and sold a few knock-up nendoroids of Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, no one was going to know. Some of his fellow disciples saw his red and blue nendoroids and even reached out to him for commissions. Even Liu Qingge made a big purchase too, commissioning him to create little figurines of him, Shen Qingqiu, and Cutebone. He might have cooed a little at this cute little family when he saw Liu Qingge give the set of figurines to Shen Jiu.

With his new source of income from the hobby, Shang Qinghua had even more money to buy fancy paint pigments and materials to complete his little shrine of Mobei Jun. There were so many of his mini kings, he had trouble fitting them under the floor board. The storage was limited to the point Airplane had to dip into his saving to buy a high-grade qiankun bag.

The day of the older Peak Lords’ ascension came. Shang Qinghua finally attained the seat of An Ding Peak. With power, came mountains of paperwork but also extra allowance. The first impulse purchase Airplane did was to build himself a secret room. He hired only the most discreet builders so only he knew how to open the room. When the secret room was finished building and decked out with shelves and display stands, Shang Qinghua could finally display his shameless Mobei Jun collection in open air.

“Phew, finally my babies can breathe some fresh air,” Shang Qinghua rubbed his lower back after hours of organizing and re-organizing the feng shui of his shrine. No matter where he looked, his king was everywhere.

“Well, I sure hope my king would never find out the existence of this room. I don’t think I’ll ever recover from that level of shame.”

Shang Qinghua could cry at the sight of the Mobei dolls. Even if he could never rise above the station of a servant, at least he would have the comfort of his figurine husbands. He would have loved to have a body pillow in the form of Mobei Jun, but his sewing skills were limited to mending his robes. Yet, the thought of embracing Mobei Jun (the body pillow) had been in the back of his mind. As a cultivator with extended life, he would have time to master multiple crafts in his lifetime. Moreover, the great things about living in a xianxia world were talismans. Some heating talismans were intended to ease the pain of menstrual cramps but they could perfectly imitate human body temperature as well. Airplane found out about this talisman from Mu Qingfang when he stopped by to share a cup of stress relief tea with his gentle shidi. When he asked for a copy of the talisman, the healer turned serious and asked Shang Qinghua to let him examine his veins as if he was ill. Shang Qinghua had to spend half an hour to convince the man that no he did not faint from stress lately. Or accidentally consumed any demonic papapa fruit. Had he really written that many papapa plants in his novel?

Satisfied with how he arranged the room, Shang Qinghua wished he had a camera to take beauty shots of his Mobei Collection. He closed the door to his shrine and went back to his desk to work on the paperwork his shizun left for him. Transition of duties, his ass. The old man was extremely glad to retire to who knew where.

Feeling a current of cold wind of the demon’s portal in his room, Shang Qinghua stood ramrod straight and greeted his king in a hurry.

“My, my king! I wasn’t expecting you since we just had a meeting two days ago! Did something happen?” said Shang Qinghua.

“No.”

“Ah, I see. Pardon this servant’s inattentiveness, let me make you tea first,” Shang Qinghua hurriedly fiddled with his tea set, “Oh, dear.”

Mobei Jun glared at him, “What is it?”

“I’m very sorry, my king. I have a meeting at Qing Jing Peak later. Would you mind waiting here? The tea should be ready now!”

Shang Qinghua almost tripped on a dirty dry paint bottle but managed to catch himself before falling onto another dry paint bottle. He kicked the trash to the side and dashed out of his room. It wasn’t until late in the night when he managed to drag his tired feet back to An Ding Peak. With Shen Qingqiu and Cutebone gone off to some missions, he was left to deal with the snobbish young masters without his terrifying but reliable shixiong as a buffer. Did these spoiled brats think yelling at him would make expensive inkstones and Xuan papers appear out of thin air? In times like this, Airplane wished he could borrow Cutebone’s bone club to either hit those assholes – very unlikely given his cowardly disposition – or bash himself unconscious so he would not have to deal with his problems.

When he stepped into the safe confines of his quarters, Shang Qinghua sighed and called out to his king.

“My king, I’m – he’s not here?!” said Shang Qinghua, “I guess he got tired of waiting then.”

The tired hamster wobbled weakly towards his pantry for food but tripped out of nowhere.

“Gah!” Shang Qinghua yelped.

His face was firmly planted on a pile of books and scrolls on the floor. Nowadays, his living area was constantly littered with his leftover crafting supplies, but he was usually cautious enough to pile them up and avoid cleaning until he absolutely had to. The day could not get any worse, and he did not even get to admire his king’s ample bosom to soothe his emotional hurt.

“Ouch,” Shang Qinghua rubbed his face, “Why is there a pile of books here? I haven’t been touching these earlier today…”

He looked up from books and found that he was lying right in front of the bookshelf holding the mechanism to open the door. The secret room was wide open.

“Oh, please don’t tell me he is inside!” said Shang Qinghua quivering in his boots.

He stood up from the book pile and rushed into the shrine room. There Mobei Jun stood stock still, surrounded by figurines of himself. In particular, the demon was staring at Shang Qinghua’s most risqué work.

Atop the centerpiece stand, a cluster of night pearls shone light upon Shang Qinghua’s pride of joy as if a heavenly official had blessed his beautiful son. To be clear, every piece of Mobei Jun related artwork was his pride of joy. However, this one was different. It was Airplane’s magnum opus. The first thing anyone would notice was the crystalline-like ice currents. The light from the night pearls bounced off the crystal ice and cast a blue light onto Mobei Jun himself. His fur cape was left cascading on the stairs leading to the throne. Large ice shards haphazardly pierced into cold dark ground. In the centre of the base, the demon king was lazily lounging in his black jagged throne. Mobei Jun’s bare chest glistened like a vampire, yet the glint in his sapphire blue eyes shone brighter. For the right shade of blue, Shang Qinghua had to source the finest sapphires to match his king’s eye colour. As for the perky marble nipples? Those babies were a specular feat to pull off. Shang Qinghua had lost count on how many times his hands slipped and chipped off the perky tits he painstakingly spent hours to perfect. He almost had to reorder the marble after many failed attempts.

At the end of the day, Airplane had to live up to his name as an erotica author, so he also carved a painfully obvious pillar bulge which was sheathed under the blue pants. He even added light highlight to enhance the bulging effect. Was it tasteless? Absolutely. But who could blame him for having a size kink?

Shang Qinghua’s legs were trembling. His king was right inside his secret room of shame. His second worst nightmare (next to his death at Mobei Jun’s hands) came true. His brain was overheated from churning out the most plausible excuses to explain all the Mobei Jun sculptures in the room. When nothing good came up, Shang Qinghua decided on using his best weapon…

He fainted on the spot.

There was a lot of finesse involved in the art of fainting. For instance, how to safely land your body was important because no one wanted their nose crushed like a used-up tissue paper. To avoid concussion, one must always to soften the blow by placing their head on their arm or a soft surface if available. It worked wonders when he had to go on scary missions with his stronger martial siblings. They just assumed he was unconscious and killed the scary monsters in his stead.

Unfortunately, Shang Qinghua forgot that his king was not a human.

Mobei Jun scoffed, “I can tell you’re still conscious, Shang Qinghua.”

Well, so much for trying to get out of this pickle.

His king glared when the cultivator refused to rise from the ground. Peering at the An Ding disciple’s scarlet face, Mobei Jun knelt down and cradled Shang Qinghua’s face. His thumbs pressed onto Shang Qinghua’s increasingly hot cheeks.

Oh no is he trying to kill me, thought Shang Qinghua. From Mobei Jun’s palms, a layer of his cold demonic qi enveloped his face. Yet instead of hurting him, the only thing he felt was the soothing coolness. It was like pressing a cold can of soda against your skin in the middle of a heat stroke. Shang Qinghua’s raging heartbeat slowed down, and his hard-wired brain began to relax.

“Do you feel better now?”

Airplane sighed contently into his king’s hands, “Yes, my king.”

“Good,” said Mobei Jun.

Without a warning, Mobei Jun continued to hold Shang Qinghua’s face between his hands and hoisted him up so they could talk face to face.

Shang Qinghua meeped at the swift motion, “Eek!”

“Answer this king’s question. Why are you hiding all these from me?”

The smaller man stammered, “I-I-I j-just…”

Although he felt no murderous intent from Mobei Jun, Airplane could feel the demon’s fingers tightly clutching his wrists. Forget about the superhearing, Mobei Jun could definitely feel his fast heart rate through his wrists. He was so getting so close his king’s face! Airplane believed he could get lost gazing into his best son’s ocean-like eyes forever.

“It’s just – “Shang Qinghua gulped, “This servant knows his place. He should not dream of things above his station -”

Fat droplets of tears started to accumulate at the corners of his eyes.

“This, this servant has been in,” Shang Qinghua choked a little on what he was about to say,” This servant has admired my king since he first laid his eyes. I know I’m not worthy to be standing on equal ground with you, my king. So I just make these little sculptures to help ease the longing somehow. But now that you’re here, I guess… If this entire room creeps out my king too much, I-I’ll destroy - ”

“No need.”

Shang Qinghua gasped, “N-no need?!”

Mobei Jun said, “This lord does not mind.”

“R-really? My king?”

Mobei Jun looked to the diorama adjacent to them. The ground of the diorama was covered in green moss Shang Qinghua picked up from the forest surrounding the peak. The blue-coloured roof and crystals dotted on the landscape were a subtle homage to Mobei-Jun’s heritage. Underneath a miniature pine tree, two small figures were seated at a bamboo tea table. One was dressed in dark blue cape, and the other was in the typical An Ding yellow robe. The yellow-robed man was contently ensconced in the embrace of the blue one.

Mobei Jun pointed at the diorama and said, “I want it.”

“HUH?”

“I said, I want that in my palace.”

“But, are you not disgusted by my interest?” And him by extension.

Mobei Jun shook his head and did not elaborate further.

“Then, then, what does that mean?” Shang Qinghua whined, “You want to have a piece of the random junks I made in my horny haze. You’re not killing me after discovering a creepy shrine dedicated to you. What do you want from me?”

The demon king did not look surprised, albeit a little exasperated at the human’s denseness.

“It’s not a junk. Qinghua made it himself with expertise and love.”

Shang Qinghua felt something lodge in his throat, unable to get his words out. His king did not mind? Did he miss the honky statue sitting in the middle of the room? Had the demon thought it was simply a result of Shang Qinghua’s own artistic interpretation? Shang Qinghua had always been fearful of a violent death by the hands of his most perfect character. Yet, he was confused and unsure what to do when this beautiful man had not harmed him. Heck, the demon even helped calm him down with some convenient magical cold compress. That was way too nice for a spoiled demon royal.

The demon must have noticed the confusion written in his face. The taller man shortened the distance between them, stared into his eyes, and – to Shang Qinghua’s shock – squeezed his cheeks very hard.

“Muy-muy kwin – it hort –“ No matter how many melon seeds he could fit in his mouth, his face was not a rice cake to be stretched like that!

“Stop playing stupid, Shang Qinghua. You are smarter than anyone in your sect can possibly realize, and you know it. Now, answer this lord’s question. Do you have anything to do for the next few days?”

“Mmmm, nu?” Stop pinching his cheeks, spoiled little prince!

Mobei Jun nodded in satisfaction, “Take the sculptures and set them up in the palace.”

Shang Qinghua could let his jaw drop. If it weren’t for his sore cheeks, he would have thought he was hallucinating at this moment.

Seeing that his king was not in a murderous mood, Shang Qinghua shakily clutched onto the demon’s cape sleeve and asked, “My king, you don’t dislike me? I’m not disgusting to you?”

His lips were trembling like a leaf in the wind. If his king did not dislike him, maybe he could avoid a painful death. Perhaps, he could even thrive beyond a role of cannon fodder?

Mobei Jun stared at him as if he just said something really dumb. Well, excuse this pathetic lowlife who never dared to dream big.

His regal king finally lost his patience and started growling, “No, I don’t dislike you or think you’re disgusting. Shang Qinghua. You’re the only person this lord trusts. I didn’t think I needed to spell it out for you.”

Airplane could not hold his tears any longer. This was too much! He felt validated, how did that happen? Oh, no. He could not stop sobbing in front of his beautiful son.

Mobei Jun was frozen still at the sight of his crying human. Not knowing what to say, he pulled Shang Qinghua into an embrace.

“Do not undersell your value in front of this lord,” Mobei Jun whispered.

Mobei Jun had been more talkative than Shang Qinghua had ever seen since he swore his loyalty to the man. The tremor in the demon’s tone though told him plenty. The demon was being honest about how important he was to him. Shang Qinghua lifted his head just to meet Mobei Jun’s soulful eyes head on. In this millisecond of eye contact, he felt – dare he say – seen.

Mobei Jun said, “If you still have doubt, then listen closely to my heart.”

It was at this moment that Shang Qinghua realized he was crying against his king’s beautiful, very naked chest. Many times, he had fantasized about touching these impeccable pecs. Yet, his mind did not have a trace of horniness. As if on instinct, he obeyed the demon and put his earlobe on the left side of the torso.

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

The demon’s loud heartbeat echoed in Airplane’s ear. As he noted the steadily faster rhythm, his own heart synchronized with his king’s. The redness in his cheeks resurfaced at the sappy moment. Mobei Jun once again saw Shang Qinghua’s face aflame.

The demon yanked Shang Qinghua’s lapel, “Why are you red again?”

Shang Qinghua dumbly said, “Huh?”

“You told me once humans are not supposed to be all red.”

“Ah… I might have said something like that once, or was it twice?”

Airplane distinctly remembered his first foray in the Northern Palace. The palace was every bit as opulent and magnificent as he envisioned. It was too bad that his human body could not take the harsh climate. Despite having a cultivator’s body, Shang Qinghua got frostbites on his nose and hands. His joints were stiff and swollen red. Throughout his first council meeting, Shang Qinghua had to channel his qi regularly to minimize further damage to his body. His king did not really notice his unusual appearance until they were out of the meeting. The demon king scoffed at his weakness but spared him some of his demonic qi to heal the frostbites. From then on, Shang Qinghua always made sure to bring enough warming talismans whenever he visited the demon realm. It was nice that his handsome king took care of him out of pity. He just didn’t want to appear any weaker than his cultivation level suggested.

Back to the present, Mobei Jun could not help but frown at Shang Qinghua. Was he really that pitiful looking to the point of displeasing his beautiful son?

Next thing Airplane knew, Mobei Jun cradled his face with his both hands.

Could this be? Was his king going to kiss him after the passionate confession? The man did admit he was rather open to Shang Qinghua’s attraction towards him. His heart was beating faster, eagerly waiting for the Kiss ™ that would put all the soap dramas to shame.

Instead of the soft lips and/or sharp fangs on his mouth, Shang Qinghua let out a scream.

“AHHHHHHHH!!!” Shang Qinghua screamed, “MY KING STOP PLEASE! MY FACE CAN’T TAKE IT!!!”

Mobei Jun stopped channeling his ice power to Shang Qinghua. Although his face did not change much, Mobei Jun’s shoulders slumped slightly. In Shang Qinghua’s eyes, he could tell his king was frazzled and confused as to how to take the next step.

Shang Qinghua giggled despite the strain in his facial muscle, “My king, this is not the kind of red you need to worry about this servant.”

Mobei Jun glared at him, demanding him to explain. His catlike eyes were turned into slits.

Airplane said, “I’m very happy, my king. To this day, I thought I would have to be by myself for the rest of my life. It’s just… I could not see myself anywhere else except by your side.”

After Shang Qinghua said his peace, he curled deeper into Mobei Jun’s bosom, which held the perfect equilibrium of firm and soft. While Shang Qinghua was ensconced in Mobei Jun’s embrace, the demon could only stay stock still. Shang Qinghua had always been obedient and unfailing. Yet, their mutual thing - whatever it meant for them – had bonded them closer than ever. The demon did not let go of the human cultivator in his arms though he allowed his eyes to wander to a different pair of yellow and blue figurines standing next to each other.

The human and the demon had danced around each other, misunderstood what the other said or did not say, and avoided necessary confrontations. Given how different they were, there would be more misunderstandings and conflicts down the road.

Nonetheless, Mobei Jun continued to hold Shang Qinghua until the man fell asleep. He carried the cultivator over his shoulder and carefully laid him on the bed. The lone demon walked back to Shang Qinghua’s hobby room and took a final glance. Right next to him, a pair of palm-sized yellow and blue figurines were displayed next to each other, albeit with a notable distance. The yellow one was very cute. It had round cheeks much like a hamster and a bright smile whereas the blue one was unexpressive and slightly frowning. Mobei Jun stared at them and the void in between them. The longer he stared at the distance in between them, the more unsettled he was. Finally, Mobei Jun growled, pocketed the two tiny sculptures into his cape pocket, and shut the door before hopping into the portal.