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Shen Jiu stood in front of the main doors to his suite of rooms for some time before cracking them open. Two guards stood outside, they both snapped to attention as the door slid open. Shen Jiu’s gaze flicked between them, between their heavy armor and glinting weapons. He slammed the door shut, heart racing. If there were guards did that mean he couldn’t just leave? He looked around the large room, eyes falling to the garden outside. A tree cut a wide shape along the edge, its branches hanging low with delicate blossoms. He looked back towards the door then hastened his way to the garden.

He had not thought beyond getting out when Tianlang-Jun asked Shen Jiu to leave with him. With Qiu Jianluo’s body growing cold on the floor, his only consideration had been getting as far away from the Qiu estate as possible. Now that he was here in the demon realm, installed in a set of rooms somehow both more luxurious and more barren than any he’d ever been in, he found it didn’t matter that Tianlang-Jun had asked him to come, that he’d said yes. He didn’t want to be trapped anywhere again.

It was easy enough to pull himself into the branches. Pushing higher and higher until he could see over the wall. Beyond it was more of Tianlang-Jun’s demon realm palace. He couldn’t see any guards and he thought maybe he could just blend in until he found a way out. It wasn’t as if he had seen many people on the way here. Tianlang-Jun had dropped him off, then disappeared to greet some trade delegation he’d forgotten were arriving. Some demon emperor he turned out to be. Couldn’t even remember to do his duty. More like a spoiled lord. Shen Jiu swallowed, gut twisting, He’d had enough of spoiled lords.

He stood, stepping his way across the branches, toe to heel, until he was only a few feet from the wall. The branch swayed and he flung out his arms to balance himself. Then with a deep breath he bent his knees and jumped.

His hands scraped as he hit the wall, cutting into the skin of his palms. He pulled himself up with grit teeth until he was sitting astride the wall. He looked down, fearing it would be too far to jump. But it was no higher than his own side. If he rolled when he hit the ground he’d be bruised, but he wouldn't break anything. The wind ruffled his hair bringing an unfamiliar scent. How far he was from where he’d come. He’d never left the town he’d been trapped in, first with the slavers and then the Qiu’s. He dreamed of getting out, dreamed of Qi-ge returning and whisking him away. But now that he had been whisked away, he was just as trapped as before. Where would he go when he got out? It’s not like he even knew where he was. 

It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to be trapped here like a caged bird until Tianlang-Jun tired of him or found a taste for some petty torment. 

He pushed himself off the edge of the wall, hanging from the top, then with a deep breath, let go. He tumbled as he hit the ground, scraping his knee. Something cut across his cheek leaving a stinging mark, but when he stood and started walking, everything felt alright.

He turned a corner and nearly walked headfirst into a guard. He kept his head down, hoping he’d be mistaken for one of the servants or some visitor. He got a few feet away when the guard turned back and let out a sharp noise of surprise.

“Oh– Oh no. You’re Shen-zhuzi! Wait!” The guard hastened to catch up to him and Shen Jiu broke into a run.

His heart pounded as the wind whipped through his hair. He didn’t know much about demons but was sure he couldn’t outrun them for long, even if he was fast. He just needed somewhere to hide. He flung himself around a corner, hand grasping the wall to help jolt him forward. His lungs were already burning, feet slapping the floor. Hide. He had to find somewhere to hide.

As he turned another corner he ran into a set of guards. They both looked up at him with widened eyes and then jumped to their feet. 

“Shen-zhuzi!” One of the guards yelped.

Shen Jiu skidded to a halt and turned to find the other guard right behind him. “Wait!” The first guard panted as he closed the distance behind him, armor clanking. His heart was hammering. Maybe if he was fast he could steal one of their weapons. He could use it as leverage, threaten to fight them. He grit his teeth, muscles coiling.

Shen Jiu whipped back around, or maybe he could run between the other two. If he was fast enough he could find somewhere to hide and–

“Shen-gongzi?” A familiar voice halted his thoughts. Zhuzhi-lang turned the corner and was staring at the gathered group. His brow furrowed as his gaze landed on Shen Jiu. Frowning, he nodded at the guards. “It’s alright, you can go. I will assist Shen-gongzi.”

The guards looked at each other, then back to Zhuzhi-lang. There was a long pause but at last they stepped away. They bowed first to Zhuzhi-lang then strangely, turned and bowed to Shen Jiu, too, before departing.

“Is Shen-gongzi alright?” Zhuzhi-lang asked. He tilted his head, offering Shen Jiu a soft smile. “Is there anything you needed? This one is happy to assist Shen-gongzi in whatever he desires.”

Shen Jiu scowled. It was strange looking at this man and knowing that he had been a little snake when they met. That he had curled around his neck and hidden in his robes. That he had bitten Qiu Jianluo to protect Shen Jiu. Shen Jiu cut his eyes away, 

“You cannot keep me here,” he said through grit teeth.

Zhuzhi-lang’s head tilted, clear golden eyes blinking slowly. “Of course. Shen-gongzi is free to go wherever he wishes.”

Shen Jiu narrowed his eyes. “Whenever I wish?” 

“Of course. You are not a prisoner.”

Shen Jiu frowned. There was no way it was that easy. “I want to leave. Which way is the way out.”

Zhuzhi-lang hummed, then turned and pointed down the hall. “If you follow this hall and take a right when you can go no further, that will take you to the main entrance. You can leave the palace from there.”

Shen Jiu stared. But what else could he do? He turned and set off down the hall. After only a few moments he stopped, fingers curling into his palm. “I thought you said I could leave.”

Zhuzhi-lang blinked but kept walking until they were standing side by side. “You can.”

“Then why are you following me?” He glared.

“This one only wishes to ensure Shen-gongzi’s safety. Inside the palace walls, no one would touch you, Junshang made sure of that. Outside however, this one can guarantee nothing.”

Shen Jiu whipped around. “Are you threatening me? Saying something will happen to me if I leave?”

Zhuzhi-lang blinked, large golden eyes never wavering from his face. Somehow even in this nearly human face, the expression looked exactly the same as when he’d been a snake. Shen Jiu scowled, forcing his shoulders not to curl, not to flinch back like the beast Qiu Jianluo always called him.

“This one didn’t mean to imply such a thing. Only that the demon realm is a dangerous place and though Junshang’s regard for you will keep you safe here, it has,” he paused, sighing. “Made you of great interest to others. With little cultivation, this one only worries Shen-gongzi will be injured or even killed by those wishing to harm Junshang if he were to leave unaccompanied.” 

Shen Jiu grit his teeth, tucking his hands into his sleeves. He hated to be reminded of how little power he had. He had managed to kill Qiu Jianluo, but he had been gravely injured in the process. He did not know what would have happened if Tianlang-Jun had not arrived. Qiu Jianluo would never have forgiven that kind of attack. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He didn’t want to be in the middle of the hallway anymore. He didn’t want to be here at all. 

“Take me back to my room then,” Shen Jiu said, forcing his tone into something that masked the snaking fear in his gut. 

Zhzuhi-lang blinked, long and slow again. “Of course, it’s this way Shen-gongzi.”

…

Shen Jiu sat curled up in the window overlooking the private garden when Tianlang-Jun arrived. Shen Jiu had been here for three days now and they had fallen into a pattern. Shen Jiu spent the day making a circuit around the rooms he’d been left in. A variety of servants came to bring him meals. They stopped sending someone to dress him the second day after he broke the only teapot in the room by flinging it at the servant’s retreating back. It’s not as if there was anything so elaborate among his few robes that he could not put on himself. The servant had left a chest with a collection of xiaoguan in varying degrees of elaborate construction. Shen Jiu had spent that afternoon tracing his fingers along each one and thinking how even one jewel from one piece could have gotten him away from the Qiu’s, how it would have given him enough to leave and never look back. He’d slammed the chest shut after and kicked it to the side of the room.

Tianlang-Jun always came in the evening. His smiles were broad but with a weariness by his eyes he couldn’t hide. This evening was no different. It was late, long past dinner but Shen Jiu was still awake. He barely slept as it was, how could he sleep knowing Tianlang-Jun would come. 

“A-Jiu.” Tianlang-Jun crooned, making his way to the window to place a kiss on the crown of his head. His arms wound under Shen Jiu’s legs curled to his chest, lifting him into his arms to walk back over to the little table. He settled down with crossed legs so he could keep Shen Jiu in his lap, arms around his waist, and head resting on his shoulder.

There was a thrumming tension under Shen Jiu’s skin. Tianlang-Jun was always like this. It was as if the man had never heard of personal space and never met a boundary he wouldn't cross. Shen Jiu forced himself to allow it everytime. Tianlang-Jun was still better than Qiu Jianluo, better than begging on the streets. And besides, Zhuzhi-lang’s words still echoed in his head. If he left the palace and someone thought he was worth something to the emperor… Shen Jiu didn’t want to think about the outcome of being caught alone in an unfamiliar place. He didn’t even have a weapon.

A servant with little horns peeking from her hair came in with a tray of tea and small treats. She set the tray down and favored Shen Jiu with a soft smile that crinkled the lines by her eyes. It reminded him of the way Qiu Haitang sometimes looked at him, with soft affection. Or how she’d looked at him before she’d got it in her head that they should be married. Everything had been different after that. 

Tianlang-Jun reached around him to pour the tea, pressing the first cup into Shen Jiu’s hand. When he took a sip, the brew was soft and floral, just a little sweet from honey. Higher quality than even the Qiu’s could afford.

“A-Jiu.” Tianlang-Jun pressed the words into the crown of Shen Jiu’s head. “I’ve had the most terrible day. You know I’ve always hated those intricate political dramas, the ones that go for books and books with this person backstabbing that person and that person manipulating this person? And now, here I am, sitting in the middle of one.” His sigh ruffled Shen Jiu’s hair. “And worse I can’t even come see you. I’ve missed you terribly, A-Jiu.”

“You were just here yesterday,” Shen Jiu huffed, feeling his cheeks heat. Stupid. Tianlang-Jun was bored. How could he actually miss someone he just saw.

“I want to be with you every day, beloved,” Tianlang-Jun said. Even without looking at his face, Shen Jiu could tell he was pouting. “Did you like the gift I sent?”

Tianlang-Jun had a box delivered to him everyday with some new gift. The empty shelves in his room now had a few books, there were flowers in an elegant vase by his bed, and then of course, the new robes that morning. They were very beautiful, ink black with the palest green embroidery picking out the image of birds in flight. But the style cut low along his chest and pulled close to his waist. He’d looked down at himself and promptly shed them. Throwing them back in the box and shoving it into one of the empty spare rooms. 

Shen Jiu huffed. “I will not wear such low cut robes. Shameless.” 

“But A-Jiu would look so beautiful,” Tianlang-Jun sighed. His hand not holding his cup of tea, snaked beneath Shen Jiu’s outer robe, a warm and heavy weight that seeped straight through the fabric of his inner robe. Shen Jiu froze, whole body tensing. It was everything he could do not to crack the teacup in his hand. But Tianlang-Jun did nothing more than rest his hand along the line of Shen Jiu’s ribs. He never did anything more than that. Still, Shen Jiu’s heart was climbing up his throat.

“It’s a common style,” Tianlang-Jun continued. “You’d be the envy of all the court.” He pressed a kiss into Shen Jiu’s hair, laughing softly. “Of course, even in the plainest robes you’d be the envy of all the court. Who is more beautiful and fierce than my A-Jiu? I’m only surprised someone did not come to snatch you away before me.”

“You’ve read too many ridiculous stories,” Shen Jiu huffed. He forced his body into stillness. He couldn't give away the shivery nerves running through his veins. “Which one is that from?’

Pressed close as they were, Tianlang-Jun's laugh rumbled through Shen Jiu’s back. It sent a warm curling feeling down his spin and he suppressed the shiver. The tea in his cup rippled just a little. 

“Ah, you’ve caught me. It was from Hearts in Spring Rain. But A-Jiu is much more interesting than the fair maiden in that story. He would never submit to being simply snatched away.” There was heat in Tianlang-Jun’s tone. His fingers pressed tighter along Shen Jiu’s ribs. “Who could compare to my lovely A-Jiu with a sword in his hand?”

Shen Jiu snorted, trying to ignore the way his heart fluttered. They were all lies. Tianlang-Jun liked it when he’d killed Qiu Jianluo certainly. But there had been no relation between Tianlang-Jun and Qiu Jianluo. If one of Tianlang-Jun’s guards, his servants, or a member of his court, took a liking to Shen Jiu’s apparent beauty, would Tianlang-Jun feel the same?

They finished their tea and Tianlang-Jun spent the next shichen running his hands through Shen Jiu’s hair and asking questions. Did Shen Jiu like the books he sent? Did he spend time in the garden? He liked calligraphy? Did he want to practice? What songs did he love best? It was too easy to fall into the rhythm of Tianlang-Jun’s easy words, to be coaxed into revealing too much. 

Some part of him never relaxed. Even as he settled into Tianlang-Jun’s arms around him, the candles burning down and the teapot emptied, he was too aware. He was waiting for Tianlang-Jun to decide it was time, to grow impatient. Shen Jiu could not stop him if Tianlang-Jun pushed him back against the floor, if he pressed their lips together, if he wanted to do more than leave his hand placed between the layers of Shen Jiu’s robes. Worse, Shen Jiu wasn’t sure he would fight if Tianlang-Jun did decide he was done waiting, done playing this strange game between them.

But just like every other day, when the tea was finished, Tianlang-Jun scooped Shen Jiu into his arms, pressed a kiss to his brow, then set him back on the ground. Shen Jiu shivered with Tianlang-Jun’s heat no longer wrapped around him. 

“Goodnight A-Jiu,” he said, “Sleep well.” Then he would go and Shen Jiu was left more confused than when he’d arrived.

…

Shen Jiu was sitting in the window again with his knees curled to his chest, staring out at the garden. A knock at his door startled him. It was mid morning and he was not expecting anyone. He stared at the closed wooden surface, arms curling tighter. His heart pounded. There was another knock, and then a familiar voice called to him.

“Shen-gongzi?” It was Zhuzhi-lang.

Shen Jiu stared at the door for a few moments longer.

“Come in,” he called back.

Zhuzhi-lang slid the door open, stepping over the threshold. He bowed to Shen Jiu, eyes falling to the low table as he straightened.

“Shen-gongzi has not eaten. Is he feeling ill?” 

Shen Jiu looked at the breakfast he’d barely touched and felt the nausea curl through his stomach.

“I feel fine,” he said. 

“Was the food not to your liking? This one can ask the kitchen to prepare you something else.” Zhuzhi-lang’s brow furrowed. It created a little divot. With his lips turned down he looked so pathetic that Shen Jiu almost snorted.

“The food was fine. I just wasn’t hungry.” The food had been more than fine. Some of the best he’d eaten in his entire life. But when he sat down, he’d start thinking about how he’d gotten here. And then he thought of Qiu Jianluo. Of the way he’d sometimes sit Shen Jiu down in front of a similar array of food, then slam his head into the dish when he reached out to grab something. Nausea twisted his gut looking at the dishes. Not eating was better than vomiting up whatever he forced down.

Zhzuhi-lang’s head tilted, he blinked. “This one would like to show you something. If Shen-gongzi would agree to accompany him.” 

“Alright. What is it?” 

Zhuzhi-lang blinked again. “You’ll need to get dressed. Unless Shen-gongzi would prefer to walk around the palace in the robes he slept in. This one would not wish to assume.”

“Assume what? Of course I don’t want to walk around in just this.” Shen Jiu snapped.

“Of course,” Zhuzhi-lang agreed. They stared at each other for a moment unmoving. “Did you need assistance?”

“No,” Shen Jiu said. “I didn’t agree to go anywhere with you.” His eyes tracked along the space he’d spent his days mapping every corner. 

“You did not.” Zhuzhi-lang nodded. “This one simply thought Shen-gongzi would want to see something interesting in the palace. Forgive him for overstepping.”

Shen Jiu had not been out of his rooms since that first day. He didn’t like the way the guards stared at him, how even the servants that came to see him watched him too closely. To walk out on his own felt like too much, like he’d have to peer behind every corner, eyes searching every open doorway for something he could not name. At least here there was a pattern to his days and no one but Tianlang-Jun came in without his permission. 

But with Zhuzhi-lang, maybe he could see a little more. Map the place he’d found himself. It was better to know, so that when the time came to run, he would be prepared. 

And Zhuzhi-lang? Well, he could not forget that last night with Qiu Jianluo. Zhuzhi-lang had protected him once before. 

“Fine, I’ll come with you. But stay there. I don’t need your help.” 

He went back to his bedroom and changed into another set of elaborately embroidered robes sent by Tianlang-Jun. This one thankfully had a reasonable neckline. He tried to get one of the xiaoguans to sit in his hair but it kept slipping every time he pushed the hair pin in place. He could feel his annoyance growing with each failure until he finally flung the thing across the room. He looked at his reflection in the bronze mirror hung on the wall and scowled. He looked ridiculous with his messy hair and elaborate robes. Like he was playing dress-up. 

“Shen-gongzi?” Zhuzhi-lang called from the other room. “Do you need assis–”

“No!” Shen Jiu snapped. He quickly wove his hair into a long braid and strode out from the room. “I’m ready, let's go.” He glared, daring Zhuzhi-lang to comment.

Zhuzhi-lang only nodded, a small smile twitching up his lips. Shen Jiu stared at the long braid woven over Zhuzhi-lang’s shoulder and flushed. Both in dark green robes, both with braided hair. They looked like they had planned it. But going back to change was more embarrassing than just pretending he didn’t notice. He kept his chin high and gestured towards the door. 

“After you.” 

Zhuzhi-lang bowed his head, lips still twitching, and led them out. 

They wove through the sprawling maze of the palace. Shen Jiu tried to memorize the direction but nothing seemed to be laid out the way he thought it should be. Together they passed many servants and guards alike, some with human-like faces, some not. Each bowed their heads to the pair before averting their gazes and continuing on their way. 

At last, Zhuzhi-lang stopped in front of a large set of doors.

“Junshang said that you enjoyed the books he brought you, so this one thought Shen-gongzi may enjoy more of a selection.” He pushed open the doors and led Shen Jiu inside. 

Shen Jiu stopped at the threshold and stared. It was a library, full of so many books and scrolls that Shen Jiu didn’t understand how anyone could ever read them all. He turned in place, gaze tracing the filled walls and scattered tables. How many subjects there must be. He didn’t even know where he might begin. Qiu Jianluo had a large collection of books but Shen Jiu had never been able to touch them. He’d learned early on that if Qiu Jianluo invited him to take one it was a trap. There was a long scar across his ribs from the first time he’d made that mistake. 

He turned back to Zhuzhi-lang with narrowed eyes. 

“Shen-gongzi should feel free to peruse the library at his leisure,” Zhuzhi-lang said. “Junshang would not keep you from anything you desired.”

Shen Jiu cut his gaze away, afraid of how much showed on his face. He caught sight of a few well-dressed people gathered around a table, they were staring at him with open curiosity. He turned and noticed another group doing the same. He swallowed, taking a step back towards the entrance. Zhuzhi-lang’s head tilted, brow furrowing as he pursed his lips.

“Shen-gongzi,” he said. “This one has something else to show you, if you’ll allow it.”

Shen Jiu swallowed. He felt his muscles coil, ready to run or to fight. He forced himself to nod, trailing right behind Zhuzhi-lang as they wove through the stacks. In the back of the library, tucked behind a cabinet of scrolls, was a small table. Two chairs sat on either side, one facing a wall and one facing another cabinet of scrolls. To the side was an oval window looking out onto a garden, partially obscured by a bush of camellia.

“Shen-gongzi should sit here and this one will bring him any books he might like.” 

Shen Jiu didn’t know what to do with the flush of warmth through his chest, the trembling of his heart. He’d been seen through too easily, and yet–

He took a seat with his back to the wall. His hands slowly stopped trembling, and he took a full deep breath. 

“I,” he swallowed. “If there are books on calligraphy, I’d like to see them.”

Zhuzhi-lang tilted his head, that soft half-smile curling his lips. “I have a few Shen-gongzi may enjoy.”

…

Tianlang-Jun spent that evening with Shen Jiu regaling him with tales of the ongoing trade negotiations. It was more interesting than Shen Jiu expected, regardless of how much Tianlang-Jun clearly loathed it. 

“You should care more,” Shen Jiu huffed. “Aren’t you the emperor? You have people to govern. It can’t just be parties and galavanting through the human realm all the time.” He didn’t know what made him say it. He shouldn’t be trying to anger Tianlang-Jun when he could be thrown out at a whim. But as always Tianlang-Jun just laughed and pulled him closer, pressing his lips to Shen Jiu’s brow.

“A-Jiu, don’t chastise me,” he mock-sighed. “I already miss you so much. You should compliment me on how responsible I’m being.”

“As if I’d compliment you for doing the bare minimum,” Shen Jiu rolled his eyes and Tianlang-Jun’s grin broadened, sharp teeth poking against his lips. Shen Jiu swallowed, feeling the staticky frisson of heat spark between them. Tianlang-Jun ran a hand down his back and leaned in to purr into his ear.  

“And will A-Jiu compliment me if I exceed his expectations.”

A shiver spooled hot down his spine and he jerked away from Tianlang-Jun’s hold.

Tianlang-Jun paused, then his smile softened. He reached out and traced a hand along Shen Jiu’s jaw. 

“It’s late, beloved,” he said. “I’ll let you get some sleep.” He pressed his lips to Shen Jiu’s cheek, tracing his hand through a strand of Shen Jiu’s hair. Then he was gone again. Shen Jiu wrapped his arms around himself, heart thrumming, mind twisting with something he didn’t know how to want. 

…

Zhuzhi-lang returned the next morning after breakfast. His eyes traced the half-eaten food before walking over to the window where Shen Jiu sat. He reached into his sleeve and held out a wrapped bao.

“This one was at one of the nearby villages this morning and thought Shen-gongzi may enjoy this. I hope you will accept it.”

Shen Jiu looked at the bao, light and fluffy, like so many he’d eaten from street vendors. He reached out and took it. When he bit into the soft dough, he sighed, the taste so familiar that for a moment every thought that raced through his head slowed to a trickle, like poured honey. Before he knew it the bao was gone. Shen Jiu flushed. He must look like he did when he was begging for scraps on the street, shoving food in his mouth like a dog.

Zhuzhi-lang did that long slow blink that made him look especially snake-like. Then he smiled.

“If Shen-gongzi likes those, this one will bring him more when he returns to the village.”

Shen Jiu narrowed his eyes but when no request for something in return came, he nodded once. “Is that all that you came for?”

“No, this one thought Shen-gongzi would like to see something else of interest in the palace and wanted to know if he’d like me to show him.”

Shen Jiu thought of the afternoon spent in the library, about Zhuzhi-lang’s easy presence as they sat reading tucked away together. He’d never had that with anyone and didn’t want to get used to something that may not happen again. Still, he found himself agreeing anyway. 

They made their way together, Zhuzhi-lang a steady presence at his side. This time they wove down into the bowels of the palace. The stone steps echoed as they curved deeper. His heart was thudding against his ribs as he traced each way out. Zhuzhi-lang glanced over and offered him a soft smile.

“It’s just here,” he said, pointing down a corridor carved into the mountain. Zhuzhi-lang pushed open a door to a wide arching room. All the walls glinted with the metal of hundreds of weapons. Shen Jiu’s eyes widened. There were swords of every kind, some larger than he was tall, some as thin as willow branches. There were other weapons too, bows, and axes, and whips, all organized and carefully displayed. Some were plain metal, some embedded with elaborate gold and silver, cut with jewels that sparkled in the lantern light. 

Shen Jiu’s fingers reached out to trace along the smooth metal of a thin sword. He could picture how it would look whistling through the air, hear the sound of it slashing towards a target. He pulled his hand back and tucked it into his sleeve, too aware of Zhuzhi-lang’s eyes on him.

“This one thought Shen-gongzi may find an interest in Junshang’s armory. There are weapons collected here from every generation of Junshang’s family, from the very first who came from the heavens.”

Shen Jiu schooled his face into a scowl. He wondered what it was like, to be able to trace your lineage back generation upon generation. He didn’t even know who his own parents were. His first memories were of the slavers, and of Qi-ge.

Zhuzhi-lang led him deeper into the room, pointing out notable weapons with equally notable names. Their footsteps echoed along the stone floor as they neared the back wall. A large case sat pushed to the back, this one filled with a variety of daggers.

“If you asked,” Zhuzhi-lang said as he watched Shen Jiu’s gaze dart around the room. “Junshang would certainly teach you to use a sword. He would likely hire you an instructor if you wished, but this one believes he would wish to spend the time instructing you himself.”

Shen Jiu frowned. “Oh? He’s not too busy galavanting around for such a thing?”

“Junshang taught this one to use a sword,” Zhuzhi-lang said. “He would do the same for you, I’m certain.”

Shen Jiu’s fingers curled together beneath the sleeves of his robes. As if he wasn’t already indebted to Tianlang-Jun, only here at his whim. Shen Jiu had left everything behind, not that there had been much to take. But even the clothes on his back now were given to him by Tianlang-Jun. How could he ask for more? 

“Shen-gongzi?” Zhuzhi-lang asked.

”No,” Shen Jiu said. “I’m not interested in being trained.” Zhuzhi-lang blinked long and slow, a little furrow forming between his brows. 

“As you say,” he nodded, then turned to the case of daggers. “But Shen-gongzi should still take something to protect himself. Just in case.”

Shen Jiu’s gaze tracked over Zhuzhi-lang’s face, searching for a lie.

“I don’t–”

A side door opened and Zhuzhi-lang’s hand whipped out to curl around Shen Jiu’s waist and drag him close. Shen Jiu jerked but Zhuzhi-lang’s grip was strong and he couldn’t stop himself being dragged backwards. His heart hammered hard, his chest tight and his fingers cutting crescent moon marks into his palm. 

A tall horned woman stepped out of the door. Her gaze landed on Zhuzhi-lang and Shen Jiu. Her eyes widened and she bowed.

“Apologies, this one did not know Junshang’s nephew and his–” she paused with a frown. “This one did not know the armory was currently occupied.”

“Shen-gongzi and I had just finished our tour. You may continue your duties uninterrupted,” Zhuzhi-lang said. The woman bowed again as Zhuzhi-lang steered them out. Shen Jiu could feel her eyes on him until the door was shut behind him. As soon as they were out in the hall Shen Jiu ripped himself free from Zhuzhi-lang’s grasp.

“Don’t touch me.” He snapped. His heart continued to pound, breath coming short and fast. Zhuzhi-lang bowed his head, his long braid falling over one shoulder.

“Apologies, Shen-gongzi. I–” the little furrow was back between his brows. “This one did not intend to offend you.” 

Shen Jiu crossed his arms and made his way back the way they came without answering. Zhuzhi-lang hastened to catch up to his side. It was ridiculous to act that way, to still feel shaky even after he realized Zhuzhi-lang wasn’t trying to hurt him. Still, he thought of the way he’d been yanked around and he felt sick to his stomach. He wanted to be back in his room. At least his room was familiar. There he knew every nook and crevice, every way in and out.

Zhuzhi-lang broke the silence of their footsteps echoing along the floor. 

“You were more comfortable with me when I was a snake,” he said. Shen Jiu’s frown deepened. How was he supposed to explain that? How he knew that Zhuzhi-lang and the little snake that brought him flowers and sat in his palm were the same, but he still didn’t feel as if they were. That Zhuzhi-lang looked the same age and build as him but Qiu Jianluo hadn’t been much bigger either. That Zhuzhi-lang looked at him and Shen Jiu’s mind registered him as a threat.

“It’s different,” he said once the silence had stretched on long enough to become awkward. He could feel his cheeks grow hot and he ducked his head so his hair would hide the flush from Zhuzhi-lang’s view. 

“I see,” Zhuzhi-lang said. His footsteps paused and Shen Jiu turned to find him gone. He glanced down to see the same little green snake who had curled up with him under the bed that last night in the Qiu house. Zhuzhi-lang’s tongue darted out, tasting the air, before slithering up to Shen Jiu. Shen Jiu stared down at him, at the wide golden eyes so similar to his human form. With a sigh he bent down and held out his hand for Zhuzhi-lang to slither onto. 

The little snake curled up his arm and settled around his neck, a gentle weight. He raised his head, blinking long and slow, then bumped Shen Jiu’s cheek. Shen Jiu huffed. His heartbeat had calmed, no longer feeling shivery to the tips of his toes. He hated that it could be this easy when nothing else was. Still, something settled warm in his chest and with tentative fingers he reached up and stoked along the top of Zhuzhi-lang’s scaled head. 

When they got back to Shen Jiu’s room, Zhuzhi-lang resumed his human form. He placed a long silver dagger on the low table, then nodded his head and departed, leaving Shen Jiu alone again. 

… 

Over a week had passed since he’d first been brought here. Each still dawned with a new gift from Tianlang-Jun at his door. When he’d received the guqin four days ago, he’d traced his fingers over the silk strings and longed to be able to do more than simply pluck them. An instructor had arrived the following day even though Shen Jiu had not asked.  

The instructor was a short unassuming woman with eyes that were filled completely by ink black and tiny horns protruding in rows along the sides of her head. She was no nonsense but Shen Jiu didn’t mind. Even when his fingers stung as he played, he was still playing. He was learning something. 

Zhuzhi-lang had come to keep him company today. He sat to the side in Shen Jiu’s preferred seat on the window ledge, reading through a stack of letters. Shen Jiu made his way through the exercises to a hum of acknowledgement from his instructor when the door slid open. Shen Jiu’s eyes darted to the door then back. He kept his hands on the strings so he had something to focus on. Tianlang-Jun was early.

“A-Jiu,” Tianlang-Jun sang as he waltzed in, taking his favored place directly behind Shen Jiu, his legs sliding along either side of Shen Jiu’s thighs. His arms wrapped around his waist, head resting on his shoulder. “I love to see you practicing music. I hope we’ll be able to play together soon.”

Shen Jiu’s fingers tightened, the strings cutting into the soft skin of his fingertips. He could feel his muscles coiling, an uncomfortable shivery feeling running down his spine. He could perfectly imagine the arc the guqin would take if he slammed it against Tianlang-Jun’s face. How his nose would break and blood would spray. He too, could imagine Tianlang-Jun’s hands weaving into his robes, pressing against his bare skin, the way he would breathe against Shen Jiu’s ear as his hand stroked lower and lower and–

“Uncle.” Zhuzhi-lang’s voice cut through the rising scream in Shen Jiu’s head. 

Shen Jiu felt Tianlang-Jun’s head tilt against his own, pulling away to turn towards Shen Jiu’s music instructor.

“Would you mind terribly coming back tomorrow? It seems I have an important conversation to attend to.”

“As you wish, Junshang,” the music instructor said. “Shen-zhuzi, continue to practice the new exercise in preparation for tomorrow.” Shen Jiu could only nod, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Tianlang-Jun’s hands were heavy around his waist, burning through the layers of his robes.

When the instructor was gone, Zhuzhi-lang crossed the room and sat on the other side of the table.

“My nephew never calls me uncle. It must be important,” Tianlang-Jun said. Zhuzhi-lang blinked, then nodded.

“Uncle cares deeply for Shen-gongzi,” Zhuzhi-lang said. Shen Jiu steadied his breathing. Tension weaving through his limbs. 

“I do,” Tianlang-Jun said. “How could I not care for my beloved, A-Jiu?” 

“Then uncle should know that he makes Shen-gongzi uncomfortable when he touches him in this manner,” 

Shen Jiu’s shoulders tightened. He shot a glare at Zhuzhi-lang. Zhuzhi-lang’s clear golden eyes flicked to him then back over his shoulder to Tianlang-Jun. 

“Does it? But A-Jiu hasn’t told me not to.” Tianlang-Jun sounded like he was pouting.

Zhuzhi-lang’s mouth wobbled, his eyes again darting to Shen Jiu. They lingered this time. A sinking feeling squirmed through Shen Jiu’s gut.

“Shen-gongzi would not tell you to stop. He believes you will send him away if you are displeased with him,” Zhuzhi-lang bowed his head. “And sending him away into the demon realm, after Uncle has made his favor obvious to everyone, would pose a significant threat to Shen-gongzi.”

Shen Jiu’s stomach twisted, every muscle in his body winding tight. He threaded his fingers together to stop them from trembling as his thoughts caught fire. No one should know. No one should know anything about him. If they found out he cared for something it would be taken away, destroyed in front of his face. He would be punished. Qiu Jianluo had taken so much pleasure in worming his way into Shen Jiu’s mind, picking out his thoughts as if he could read them straight from his head. Any showing of care or love or concern for anything would just give Qiu Jianluo a knife to gut him with. 

He didn’t want to like it here. He didn’t want to wake up warm and wrapped in his blankets, mind slow and foggy from the deep sleep he had never gotten. He didn’t want to like curling in the window and feeling the wind in his hair, basking in the heavy silence of being alone. He didn’t want to like sitting in a library with Zhuzhi-lang, pouring over books he could never have dreamed of reading. He didn’t want to like Tianlang-Jun’s easy affection.

Shen Jiu had never once been able to keep anything he cared for.

“A-Jiu?” Tianlang-Jun’s voice was a soft low vibration next to his ear. “Do you–”

It was too much. He couldn’t do this. Weak. Stupid. Foolish. 

He jolted to his feet, breaking Tianlang-Jun’s hold on him.

“Shut your mouth,” he hissed, backing away from the table. “Shut up. Neither of you know anything about me.”

Tianlang-Jun’s eyes were wide, his lips parted. He was so beautiful, with the silvery strands in his hair and the soft cut of his jaw. Shen Jiu hated it. 

“A-Jiu–”

He knew that tone. Knew what he must look like.

But he couldn’t–

He couldn’t run. He couldn’t leave. Where would he go?

He should deny it. Deny being affected by Tianlang-Jun or by any man that put their hands on him in cruelty or in kindness. 

He should call Zhuzhi-lang a liar.

But how could he when his heart was racing so fast he could feel the thrum through his whole body? When his hands were shaking, shoulders trembling.

Weak. 

How could he have let it come to this?

To be so obvious. To give another person the best weapon to hurt him.

“Shen-gongzi, this one only–” Zhuzhi-lang started.

“Shut up!” His voice cracked out of him. “What do you know about me? Nothing. You think you spend a few days with me and can speak for me?”

Zhuzhi-lang’s eyes dropped to the table. 

“A-Jiu–”

“No! What do you know?” Shen Jiu hissed at Tianlang-Jun. “You’re just some spoiled lord who thinks he can take whatever he wants.”

Tianlang-Jun’s brow furrowed. He looked over at Zhuzhi-lang then back at Shen Jiu. He got to his feet. Shen Jiu flinched back. Tianlang-Jun was so much taller than him, so much broader. The mark on his forehead pulsed with soft red light. 

“A-Jiu,” he said, taking a step forward. Shen Jiu jerked back and hit the wall. A lightning quick burst of panic shot through his veins. His eyes darted around. He’d mapped every exit but none of them would take him anywhere. There was nowhere to go but here. 

“A-Jiu, listen to me, I–” Tianlang-Jun started, but Shen Jiu cut him off.

“I told you to shut up!” His heart was pounding, he couldn't breathe. He couldn’t do this. Fire seared through his veins, burning his thoughts. 

“Get out,” he hissed.

“A-Jiu, let me talk to you, I–”

“No, get out!” Shen Jiu’s voice came out sharp and high, loud enough to echo around the room. Tianlang-Jun froze. Zhuzhi-lang was glancing between them, wide golden eyes so full of what? Concern? Pity? Like Shen Jiu was some feral animal. A beast just like Qiu Jianluo always said. 

“Get. Out.” Shen Jiu growled through his grit teeth. 

Tianlang-Jun shook his head. “Just listen to me, A-Jiu.”

Shen Jiu’s jaw clenched. His thoughts were spiking in sharp pulses. He felt like there was a fire consuming him from the inside. He needed to get out. He couldn’t be in this room. He shoved past Tianlang-Jun’s looming figure. His eyes flicked to his guqin on the table. Stupid. He should have never accepted a single gift.

He kicked it over, relishing in the discordant crash the table and instrument made, then slammed through the hall and into his room, bolting the door shut. 

Still it wasn’t enough. He was trembling. He could feel tears burning his eyes, throat tight. His gaze whipped around the room as it had done a thousand times. Then he slid beneath the bed, pushing himself all the way under until his back was to the wall, knees tucked to his chest. From his sleeve he extracted the dagger Zhuzhi-lang had given him. Its blade glinted even in the low light. He pulled it close to his chest, his breath coming short and fast.

He would be ready, He would not be weak. 

His eyes burned and he couldn’t stop it as tears escaped and tracked down his cheeks.

As the fire in his head smoldered and then went out, he sucked in trembling breaths. The tears wouldn’t stop. How could he be so pathetic? So stupid that he couldn’t even play whatever part Tianlang-Jun wanted. This was far better than anyplace he’d ever been and he was still like this. Still unable to control himself enough to not ruin everything he touched.

…

The night fell and no one came to tear him out from under the bed. He would have fought, but he was under no illusions that he could have won. Maybe they were waiting him out so it would be easier. He couldn't help but imagine a group of faceless people standing outside his door, just waiting for the right moment to strike.

He fell into a fitful sleep and startled awake with the early dawn light pouring from his windows. The dagger was still clutched in his hand. He crawled out as silently as he could. Pausing to listen. He could hear nothing from outside his door. He took a deep breath, sliding the door open and padding out into the front room. It was empty.

The table had been righted, the guqin set to the side. On top of the table was a tray. A delicate teapot sat on top, carved with plum blossoms like the ones outside in the garden. There was a talisman on it to keep it warm and one single teacup. Next to the cup was a sprig of camellia, the petals wide and fragrant.

His eyes stung, tears escaped to recarve the tracks down his face from the night before. 

He didn’t understand. 

He didn’t understand any of it.

…

It was the final day of the trade delegation visit and so, of course, there was a banquet. Why Shen Jiu was going to this banquet, he did not know. Two women had come to help. They brushed out his hair and cooed to him about how pretty he was as they helped him into the overly complicated layers of robes and jewelry Tianlang-Jun had sent. The Qiu’s had been wealthy, but Shen Jiu was sure he was currently draped in enough gold and jewels to buy the whole estate. 

“Shen-zhuzi has such beautiful hair,” one of the women smiled as she wove strands of his hair into a braid. She had introduced herself as Yin Meifen when she came in laden with boxes and boxes of accessories. Half of it was still in boxes.

“And eyes, Junshang picked the perfect color for your robes,” the other woman, Xu Yan agreed, the fluffy ears on her head twitched as she spoke. She laid out the final outer robe on the bed, smoothing it out and sighing as her long nails stroked over the fine silk. It was pale green stitched with clouds and birds in flight, they matched perfectly to the layer he would wear underneath with tree branches and delicate blossoms. 

Yin Meifen tied off the braid and Xu Yan beckoned him over to slide the robe over his shoulders. It was heavy with all the others beneath it, but the multitude of layers felt almost the same as being wrapped in his blankets at night. More so, he was glad for how hard it would be to remove them. 

Yin Meifen sat him back down to line his eyes and lips while Xu Yan pulled his hair up to fashion the xiaoguan in place. It was heavy resting on top of his head and he tried not to move, too afraid it would come sliding out of his intricately woven hair. If he did not already seem a fraud, he certainly would then. 

There was a knock at the door and Shen Jiu turned, brow furrowing. The women looked at him. When he didn’t answer Yin Meifen prompted. 

“Shen-zhuzi, would you like me to see who it is?”

Shen Jiu stared at the door, a furrow carving between his brows. “No need. I know who it is. Come in. I don’t know why you are standing there when you’ve never knocked before.”

The door slid open and Tianlang-Jun stood on the other side, smiling wide. He was dressed in just as many layers, his in deep black with raised embroidery that seemed to flicker in the lantern light. The beads on his mianguan glinted as he stepped into the room.

“I’ve never come into your bedroom, A-Jiu,” he said. He turned in place looking around. “It’s kind of plain.”

Shen Jiu shot him a glare. “Of course it is. You didn’t put anything in it.”

“You didn’t ask for anything?”

Shen Jiu grit his teeth and turned back to Xu Yan so she could finish her task. What would he have asked for? Tianlang-Jun may be able to demand whatever he pleased but he was an idiot for thinking Shen Jiu would have thought to do the same.

When they finished, Yin Meifen leaned in to whisper into his ear with a soft laugh in her voice. “Shen-zhuzi is a peerless beauty, Junshang could surely not deny you anything you asked for.” Then they departed with a bow and he was left alone with Tianlang-Jun. He breathed deep to settle the rush of his beating heart. Nothing would happen. They had a banquet to get to. 

He stood crossed to the door. He was reminded again that if anyone in this room could be considered beautiful, it was Tianlang-Jun. The lines by his eyes crinkled when he smiled down at Shen Jiu, his silver streaked curls pulled back into ordered coils down his back. His eyes were dark as they tracked over Shen Jiu’s face, his long lashes dusting his cheeks.

“A-Jiu. When I commissioned these robes I knew you’d look as elegant and lovely as a bird, but it’s even better seeing you in them myself.” His hand reached out but paused halfway between them. Shen Jiu’s gaze cut to the floor. He’d grown used to Tianlang-Jun’s easy affection and even though he had never been able to suppress the spike of fear, the sudden flinch, it was almost stranger watching that long fingered hand hang between them, then fall back to Tianlang-Jun’s side. 

“Shall we go, beloved?” Tianlang-Jun asked. Shen Jiu couldn't bring himself to look him in the face. Just yesterday he’d thrown a fit like a child. He was only waiting now for Tianlang-Jun to realize Shen Jiu was too much trouble and kick him back out onto the streets. 

Shen Jiu nodded. Tianlang-Jun paused again, then with careful slowness reached out and took Shen Jiu’s hand in his. He raised it to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the knuckles. Shen Jiu’s heart fluttered. Tianlang-Jun was only ever gentle with his touch. Even when Tianlang-Jun had kissed him that night Shen Jiu had killed Qiu Jianluo, he’d been gentle. Shen Jiu glanced up at him and could see only warmth in his gaze, none of the curious calculation he’d had when they met. He no longer felt like a bug caught in a jar, no longer like he was being tested. Even so he couldn't shake the feeling that he was trapped in some cage he didn’t understand. 

A much beloved pet, draped with luxuries, coddled until Tianlang-Jun grew tired of him.

Shen Jiu had known when he met Tianlang-Jun he’d never survive another betrayal, another abandonment. By death or by choice, he was sure it would break him. That hadn’t changed.

And Shen Jiu was a survivor. 

He swallowed. His chest hurt, eyes stinging. He swallowed it down, gritting his teeth. He’d learned long ago not to cry even when Qiu Jianluo inflicted his worst tortures. He would not cry now because Tianlang-Jun had kissed his hand with the kind of adoration Shen Jiu had never known since Qi-ge left.

…

The banquet was a riot of noise and colors. Shen Jiu had seen a handful of servants and guards since he arrived, seen members of the court briefly in the library, but never this many and never escorted by Tianlang-Jun himself. When they entered and the gathered attendees bowed to their emperor, Shen Jiu thought of running. Every eye turned to him with either malice or desire or curiosity, he couldn’t tell. There were too many to focus on.

Tianlang-Jun bent to whisper into his ear, sending a warm flush to his cheeks. 

“Stay with me, A-Jiu.”

His hands gripped around the fan Tianlang-Jun had handed him before the doors were opened. He hadn’t said a word when he pressed it into Shen Jiu’s fingers and he didn’t say a word now when Shen Jiu cracked it open and raised it until only his eyes were showing. He shuddered out a breath. It felt easier like this. Not having to fake the expression on his face.  Easier to pretend to be a young lord draped in the finery he deserved, easier to be the lover of an emperor. 

Tianlang-Jun offered him food, drinks, trays of sweets, but he refused them all. His stomach was churning. There were too many eyes on him, too many people who came up to ask too many pointed questions. Oh, so he really was a human? Did he come from a sect? No? Then where was he from? What about his family, his friends? What was he to Tianlang-Jun? 

He’d lost count of how many of these he’d deflected with a biting remark or a glare over the top of his fan.

Tianlang-Jun’s eyes went wide everytime, a flush coloring his cheeks. Then his arm would snake around Shen Jiu’s waist and he would lean in to press a kiss to Shen Jiu’s head. Then he would remember himself and pull his hands back to his side. Shen Jiu kept the fan raised, too aware of many sets of eyes and many curved lips, smirking, judging, looking for an opening to strike. 

As Tianlang-Jun turned to greet another member of his court, Shen Jiu took a step back, then another, until he was melting into the crowd and rushing away. Maybe away from Tianlang-Jun he could take a moment to no longer be the focus of so much pointed attention.

He found a corner in the back, in the partial shadow of some thin draped fabrics. A few sets of eyes passed over him with interest but he scowled and they turned away. At last he could take a full breath. He wondered if he could sneak away further, retreat out a side door, keep going until he could be tucked away in his room again. 

“I see Junshang’s little bird has flown away.” A voice called to him, too close. He whipped around to find a man leaning against the wall watching him. His hair was pulled into an elaborate guan that matched the curling shape of the horns arching back from his forehead. He was dressed in the deep sea blue of the trade delegation. Shen Jiu scowled and raised his fan. The man laughed and Shen Jiu felt his hair stand up. 

Tianlang-Jun was no better than a spoiled lord, but when he laughed it was full and rich. When he was amused, his voice was deep with affection, as if he simply felt too much for the emotion to be contained in his body. This man’s laugh was low and smug. It was the kind of laugh that would burst from Qiu Jianluo when Shen Jiu fought back. 

“Of course, such a beautiful creature would be shy,” the man continued, prowling forward. “When I’d heard Junshang brought back a human pet, I was surprised. They never seemed especially interesting to me. But looking at you, I can see the appeal.” His hand reached out to curl a long stand of Shen Jiu’s hair along his finger.

Shen Jiu smacked his hand away.

“Don’t touch me,” he hissed. His heart was speeding up, focus narrowing to the man. His muscles felt tense, shivery as they prepared to act, to fight or to flee.

The man laughed. “I wonder, does Junshang like such disobedience? Could be novel.” He was quicker than Shen Jiu expected, hand striking out to grasp his wrist and tug the fan away from his face. He felt a sick pulse of energy rock up his arm, cloying sticky through his veins.

The man’s brow furrowed then he snorted. “Was it really just that you were beautiful? Was that enough reason to parade you around the court and shower you in gifts? You’re just a regular human, not even a cultivator.” Shen Jiu tried to pull his hand away but the man’s grip tightened. His bones creaked and he grit his jaw to hold back the wince. The man’s brows smoothed out, his lips sliding into a smirk.

“Oh, I think I see now.” His other hand reached up to grasp Shen Jiu’s jaw. “Don’t you look vicious. I’m sure the fun comes in seeing how fast you break.” Shen Jiu’s mind was shrieking, muscles coiling in spiking fear, as the man dragged him forward to whisper into his ear. “I can’t wait to see how fast it will take me.” 

Shen Jiu was burning. The world faded away, leaving only the man’s searing fingertips against his skin and the swift fire catching in his veins. Hate streaked through him like a lightning bolt, shattering through his shivering trembling panic and stilling his hands. His eyes flicked up to meet the man’s. The man paused, brow furrowing. 

Shen Jiu was a beast. Isn’t that what everyone thought? A feral thing.

And everyone should know not to threaten a beast. 

The dagger slid from his sleeve, feather-light. Its edge was a thin shining thread cut by lantern light. He lunged forward, feeling every inch of the slick break of tendons and flesh as he thrust it up into the man’s neck. Blood sprayed hot into his face as he threw his entire weight against the blade, pushing and pushing until the hilt stuck against the man’s throat. The man gurgled. Blood spilled from his mouth. His clawed fingers scratched down Shen Jiu’s arms, rending fine silk and breaking strands of beads. If there was pain, Shen Jiu didn’t feel it. Nothing mattered except the hilt of the blade in his hands and the wide panicked look in the man’s eyes. 

Shen Jiu yanked the blade back and they fell. Shen Jiu’s robes tangled around him. His body shuddered, muscles tensing. He jolted to his knees. The man was glaring at him, blood soaking his robes. He tried to speak but nothing came out but a sick gurgle. Then he lunged. Shen Jiu’s grip tightened. He rolled to avoid the lunge then sprang forward, using his whole weight to topple the man onto his back. Sitting astride his chest, Shen Jiu raised the dagger. His blood was singing, pulsing in his veins. Fire crackled through him, searing his thoughts. His fingers tightened, then he slammed the blade down. His aim was true as it pierced through the man’s chest. The man flinched, arching, trying to buck Shen Jiu off. 

How dare this man put his hands on him.

How dare this man think he could touch him.

How dare he.

Shen Jiu would not be weak.

Never again.

The blade sliced through the man’s flesh and bone like they were made of paper. It was just as easy the second time as it was the third and the fourth and the fifth.

There was nothing left. Only the blade, and the man, and the blood dripping from Shen Jiu’s fingers.

When the man stopped trembling and lay unmoving, Shen Jiu stilled. His heart was pounding in his ears, breath coming short. He stared down at the body. Blood was pooling out onto the floor. When he looked down, his fingers were the same red, blood caked under his nails and onto his torn sleeves. He could feel something dripping down his cheek, across his lips. It tasted like copper.

The first thing he noticed was the silence. The party had been so loud but the silence was louder. He turned to see a gathered crowd. Their eyes were on him. But this time it wasn’t with amused curiosity, not interest in Tianlang-Jun’s new pet. This was the horror of turning around to find what you thought was a little bird, brought to spread its colorful feathered wings for your amusement, was something far worse. Some monstrous thing. 

The crowd parted at a set of boot falls and then Shen Jiu was meeting Tianlang-Jun’s gaze. His dark eyes were wide, the mark on his forehead pulsing beneath the strung beads of his mianguan. Shen Jiu shuddered. His thoughts snapping back together. He had to get up. He had to fight. He’d killed someone. And not just anyone. Someone important. From the delegation Tianlang-Jun had spent the entire week dealing with, the one the celebration was for. 

His hand slipped in the blood as he scrambled to get to his feet. His fingers clenched around the dagger raising it. Tianlang-Jun’s head cocked, then he smiled, eyes crinkling.

“A-Jiu,” he purred. “My A-Jiu. Has there ever been anyone so beautiful?”

Shen Jiu’s swallowed, his eyes burning. He fought to keep the dagger steady in his hand. 

Tianlang-Jun stepped forward, hands out. “A-Jiu, A-Jiu,” his voice lilted like he was singing. “I’ve read a thousand tales of peerless beauties, met just as many scholars, and artists, and fighters, all fascinating. But who could measure up to you, beloved?”

Shen Jiu searched his face for a lie but couldn’t find it. His body trembled. Tianlang-Jun stepped closer, thumb reaching out to rub the blood from the corner of Shen Jiu’s lips. 

“A-Jiu,” he whispered, lashes dusting his cheek. There was a flush forming there that Shen Jiu couldn’t look away from. “Oh, A-Jiu. I want–”

The crowd parted again and Tianlang-Jun frowned, turning to meet a group of people in the same deep sea blue as the man dead on the floor. 

“Junshang!” Their leader stepped forward, her horns gilded with gold. “It’s fine if you wish to parade that human around like he’s a member of the court but to allow him to kill one of our delegation– I cannot abide by such a thing. I demand you hand him over for punishment.”

Tianlang-Jun’s smile curled but it did not reach his eyes. “Oh? Is that what you demand? And I wonder why you have not asked what your companion did to my A-Jiu.”

The woman’s eyes flicked to Shen Jiu with a sneer. 

“Why should I? Wu Renshu was one of our delegation. Who is this human to do such a thing?”

“I wonder,” Tianlang-Jun hummed. “And I wonder who you think you are to question me in my palace, in front of my court?”

The woman blanched, taking a step closer to her companions behind her.

“Apologies, Junshang. I never meant to imply I was questioning you. Merely that I cannot imagine what Wu Renshu would have done to warrant such a reaction from,” her eyes flicked to Shen Jiu again, the disgust evident. “From your…guest.”

“Let’s find out.” Tianlang-Jun clapped. He turned to Shen Jiu. “A-Jiu?”

Shen Jiu grit his teeth, letting out a shuddering breath through his nose. His eyes darted between the trade delegation and Tianlang-Jun. His tongue was stuck fast to the roof of his mouth. He wanted the fan he’d been given but he lost it when he fell.

Tianlang-Jun’s brow furrowed. “A-Jiu?”

“See, he has no reason. He’s no better than some wild beast. Who cares what set him off. Junshang, he killed Wu Renshu. Again, I ask you to hand him to us for judgment.”

Tianlang-Jun didn’t even turn to acknowledge her. He stepped closer, hand reaching out to thread their fingers together. His voice was pitched low, only for Shen Jiu.

“A-Jiu, please tell me what happened.” His dark eyes met Shen Jiu’s. “Please put your trust in me. You have my vow to repay it in kind.”

Shen Jiu stared. Tianlang-Jun was smiling again, soft and so sincere, he had to avert his gaze. To look into Tianlang-Jun’s eyes, it felt like his heart was breaking.

Tianlang-Jun waited, gaze never leaving Shen Jiu’s face. How easy it was for everything to fall away when Tianlang-Jun looked at him like that, like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“He,” Shen Jiu swallowed, willing his voice to even out, for his hands to still. “He wanted to fuck me. He said he thought it would be fun to see how fast I would break.”

Tianlang-Jun went very still. He breathed out long and slow, then leaned down and kissed Shen Jiu’s forehead. His lips were so warm, so soft, that Shen Jiu couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Did he?” Tianlang-Jun said. He turned back to the woman. He was no longer smiling. “It sounds like my A-Jiu was too merciful. To have Wu Renshu put his hands on my betrothed. To think he could take what belongs only to me.” Tianlang-Jun’s lips curled, baring his teeth. “I would have killed him slowly for that. And I should have you all killed for allowing such a thing.” 

The woman’s eyes were wide, her hands wringing together. “Your– Your betrothed?” She looked at the gathered group beside her. “I didn’t know. I wouldn’t–”

Tianlang-Jun was grinning now, his nails sharpened into claws as the mark on his forehead blazed, the tendrils of it snaking out across his forehead. “Oh? You wouldn’t have? It would have been fine if A-Jiu was someone else?” 

“That’s not– I didn’t–” The woman flinched back

“Of course if we had known that Wu Renshu had done such a thing, we would not have demanded punishment on his behalf,” one of the woman’s companions hastened to say. The others nodded along. 

Shen Jiu’s mind was a shattered landscape, darting from one broken thought to another. He couldn’t make sense of it. Couldn’t make sense of anything. He felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest. He felt like his veins were cracking apart. He didn’t want to be here. He could feel the blood drying on him and he felt sick, stomach twisting. 

“Shen-gongzi.”

He startled, whipping around to find Zhuzhi-lang to his side. 

“Do you want to go?” Zhuzhi-lang asked. There was no judgment in the wide-eyed expression, no questions demanding answers Shen Jiu could not give. There was just the one: did he want to leave?

He nodded, not trusting his voice. Zhuzhi-lang’s fingers were cool and a little rough against his own, light enough for Shen Jiu to pull away. He turned one last look towards Tianlang-Jun. Tianlang-Jun’s grin softened, eyes crinkling at the corners. Shen Jiu’s gaze swung away as his cheeks flushed. The utter and complete fool. 

The crowd parted as Zhuzhi-lang led him out of the banquet hall and back to his room. In the empty hall, Shen Jiu breathed deep, then tightened his grip around Zhuzhi-lang’s fingers. Zhuzhi-lang’s head tilted, then he squeezed back.

…

Shen Jiu sat with his knees to his chest, surrounded by warm water. Zhuzhi-lang had called for a bath to be drawn as soon as they got back. Shen Jiu knew he was sitting outside the door now, ensuring Shen Jiu was not disturbed. His arms curled tighter across his knees. He’d rinsed the blood off before getting in, but there was still a slight pink tinge to the water. His stomach twisted again, eyes stinging. He grit his teeth but couldn’t stop the tears overflowing. 

He felt like a fire had swept through his insides, burning everything as it went. He could still feel it smoldering ready to be set alight. How ridiculous to think that even surrounded by wealth, even with the demon emperor’s personal attention, that anyone would ever see him as anything more than an orphaned, abandoned child on the streets, something to be picked up and used at a whim. 

It didn’t matter that Tianlang-Jun had escorted him into the banquet. That man had still felt emboldened to put his hands on him. To threaten him. He could still feel the way the knife had slid into the man’s throat, hear the gurgle of his blood as it poured out. There had been no satisfaction. He had not relished it. He had simply reacted.

Qiu Jianluo had been right. He was a beast.

His hands shook and he buried his face against his knees, sinking deeper into the water until it washed over his head. The warmth enveloped him, the sounds of his heartbeat loud in his ears. He sunk lower, hair floating around him. He wanted to stay here, hanging in this moment where the only thing that mattered was the thump of his beating heart. 

Even if he was a beast, a monster, he was alive.

Alive.

His chest constricted and he burst back above the surface, sucking in sweet smelling air from the garden outside. The garden that Tianlang-Jun had gifted him.

He thought of Tianlang-Jun’s expression as the crowd parted, the way his mouth curled. He thought too of the way he had turned back to the delegation, his grin a vicious slash across his face, his glowing mark growing to encompass his forehead. 

Tianlang-Jun had believed him. 

Tianlang-Jun had been angry. He had been angry for Shen Jiu.

Shen Jiu didn’t know what to do with that. The idea was too large, too hard to grasp. He twisted it in his mind and came up with no better understanding. 

And if he didn’t understand it, how could he trust it?

He hated the way his heart fluttered when he thought of Tianlang-Jun’s soft smiles, his easy affection. Hated how heat curled low when his mind retraced the image of that wide angry smile, the curve of his sharp teeth, his dark eyes. 

He got out of the bath and pulled on the inner robe Zhuzhi-lang had laid out for him. He stared at the closed door for a long time, then slid it open. Zhuzhi-lang’s large golden eyes found his from where he was sitting at the low table in Shen Jiu’s bedroom. He had a comb laid out in front of him.

“Will you let me help you?” he asked, head tilting in that strange snake-like way. Shen Jiu stared at the comb. He felt hollowed out, something shivering through his empty chest. He nodded, taking the same seat he had when the servants had gotten him ready only a few hours before. Zhuzhi-lang crossed to stand behind him. The first touch of his fingers made Shen Jiu flinch but Zhuzhi-lang didn’t comment, only slowed his motions until Shen Jiu once again relaxed.

“You’ve been crying,” Zhuzhi-lang said. Shen Jiu grit his teeth to stop himself from flinching this time. The comb passed through his hair, slow and soothing.

“Since when did you become such an expert on me?” Shen Jiu snapped. He sounded tired even to his own ears.

“Shen-gongzi is someone that I would like to protect. So, it is in this one’s nature to watch him closely.”

Shen Jiu’s fingers tightened in his robes. He felt that smoldering flame inside him threaten to catch fire, to light and consume him again. He almost wanted it, almost craved the easiness that came with letting anger burn through him. When it took him over, bursting through his thoughts and his body alike, no one could touch him, no one could stop him. Not even himself. 

But no answers ever came at the end of the smoldering wreck of his anger. Only bone deep weariness.

He squeezed his eyes shut, curling his fingers together.

“I don’t understand.” His voice was so soft he was surprised that Zhuzhi-lang heard it. The comb passed through his hair again, the rhythm never slowing. 

“You don’t understand?”

Shen Jiu swallowed down the feeling clogging up his throat.

“Why are you doing this? Why did you take me to the library and the armory? Why did you bring me back from the banquet?” His vision grew fuzzy and he grit his teeth. “Why would you want to protect me?”

The comb paused halfway down his hair. He heard the soft sigh that fell from Zhuzhi-lang’s lips. Then he pulled the comb down again, resuming the rhythm.

“Junshang asked me to keep you safe when he decided to bring you here.”

Shen Jiu sucked in a breath, letting it out through his nose. Of course. Another of Tianlang-Jun’s whims, another debt he owed and could not repay. He stiffened but Zhuzhi-lang only hummed. 

“But I would have wished to keep you safe even if he had not asked.”

Shen Jiu couldn’t stop himself. He turned. Zhuzhi-lang had to be lying. But his face was as guileless as ever.

“Why?” The words slipped out on their own. “Why would you even want to? You barely know me.”

Zhuzhi-lang’s head cocked, he blinked long and slow.

“This one believes all kindness should be repaid with a torrent. Shen-gongzi protected me at great risk to himself. He told me to go when he knew he would be left alone with Qiu Jianluo.” His lips turned up, a barely there curve of his mouth. “How could I not want to keep you safe?”

Shen Jiu shook his head. “You attacked Qiu Jianluo for me, he threw you against the wall. He would have killed you. Is that not repayment enough?” To have had someone wish to protect him in that moment had been more than Shen Jiu had ever expected. Enough to push Shen Jiu forward, to fight back again. He could barely understand why Zhuzhi-lang would think more was owed. Couldn’t understand why he would spend so much time observing Shen Jiu, to make him feel safe, to have chastised Tianlang-Jun even when he knew Shen Jiu would be angry. 

“Do you remember the day under the plum tree, when I brought you the flower and you let me rest on your arm?” Zhuzhi-lang asked.

“Yes.” Shen Jiu’s eyes narrowed. It had been the day he’d found out Tianlang-Jun killed Wu Yanzi, Shen Jiu’s only plan for escape. He’d been so angry and beneath that, hurt. Hurt that Tianlang-Jun would destroy his way out, and hurt that he’d allowed himself to feel anything for Tianlang-Jun at all.

“When my uncle came to meet you,” Zhuzhi-lang said. “Before you knew his intentions, you pulled me close to keep me safe. I decided I would repay you in kind that day. I have not changed my mind.”

Such a little thing, instinctual. Zhuzhi-lang had felt so small, like a delicate fragile thing in his hand. He wasn’t, Shen Jiu knew that now, but he could still remember how it felt. Shen Jiu turned back around. He didn’t want Zhuzhi-lang to see his face. He swallowed, again forcing down the rising tightness.. 

“Fine. Then I will promise the same,” Shen Jiu said. “To watch out for you. To keep you safe.”

He heard Zhuzhi-lang suck in a breath, then let it out in a slow sigh. After a moment, he took the comb and settled into the same rhythm again.

…

Tianlang-Jun strolled back through the halls after his business was settled. He could still feel his pulse racing, the thrum of the zuiyin on his forehead. How he wished he would have come upon that man when he first put a hand on A-Jiu. How good it would have been to watch him realize his error, how satisfying to pull his extremities off one by one like a bug. But perhaps A-Jiu had preferred to do kill the man himself.

A-Jiu. His A-Jiu. He’d never seen anything more lovely than Shen Jiu, covered in blood with a dagger clutched in his hands, those pale green eyes blazing. He’d wanted to fall to his knees right there, promise A-Jiu anything he wished for in the world. 

Tianlang-Jun had spent years traveling, meeting people, taking lovers, reading romances, but it all faded when he looked into Shen Jiu’s eyes. He’d read so many love stories. He longed for that all-encompassing passion, to find your beloved amidst garden flowers under the moonlight, to be reunited despite every force in the universe desperate to keep you apart. He longed for the kind of love that would reshape him, that demanded he give everything in service to it. 

And then, just like in a story, there was A-Jiu. Fierce and fragile as a bird. Willing to fight even when he knew he would die, looking up at Tianlang-Jun with so much fear and desire that it was near impossible to tell the difference. 

How could Tianlang-Jun ever let him go?

He let himself into Shen Jiu’s rooms. They were still barren. Now that the trade delegation had learned their place, he would have more time to spend with Shen Jiu, to discover the things he loved best, to gift him whichever treasure suited his whims until there was nothing left that he desired and did not have. Only then could Tianlang-Jun be sure that his A-Jiu would never want to leave him. 

He longed for the day that Shen Jiu would not flinch when Tianlang-Jun touched him. The day he might press close with easy affection. He daydreamed of sitting in the grass together, of playing music or painting in the late afternoon sun, of laying in bed, the sheets tangled around them as he pressed his hands to the smooth skin of Shen Jiu’s dozing body. He wanted to sit on his throne with Shen Jiu curled in his lap, to watch Shen Jiu turn that derisive gaze on any who displeased him. He longed for the day that Shen Jiu would let go of the barrier between them and would look at him with the same adoration that had woven its way into Tianlang-Jun’s marrow.

The kind of love stories were written about. 

He paused outside of Shen Jiu’s door, listening. He had not been invited, true, but he couldn’t bear not to see his A-Jiu. Just this once, Shen Jiu would have to forgive him. He slid the door open just enough to pass through, then made his way over to the bed on silent feet.

Shen Jiu was asleep, dressed only in his inner robes and one of the thick plain outer robes for colder weather. He was cocooned amongst the cushions, half sitting up like he had been waiting and simply drifted off. In his lap, half wrapped around his slender wrist, was Zhuzhi-lang in the form of a little green snake. Tianlang-Jun padded over, careful not to disturb either his nephew or his A-Jiu. 

Shen Jiu did not look peaceful, even in sleep. His brows were drawn together, lips pulled into a scowl. He looked like he was waiting for something, always at the ready. Tianlang-Jun had hoped Shen Jiu would have settled better. Zhuzhi-lang had brought that misconception into stark clarity, even if it had not been with the most tact. Still, it made him happy to see his nephew already so attached to A-Jiu. Tianlang-Jun’s family. The only people who mattered.

His hand twitched to reach out and push his thumb along the divot between Shen Jiu’s brows, to smooth out the skin. Something must have given him away. Shen Jiu’s eyes snapped open, fingers twitching as his gaze locked on Tianlang-Jun. They stared at each other for a long moment, Shen Jiu half raised from his nest of cushions. Slowly, he sank back down. Tianlang-Jun smiled.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just,” Tianlang-Jun paused.

“Just what?” Shen Jiu’s voice was rough. It was a good sound, as perfect as any finely tuned instrument.

“I was admiring how beautiful you look when you sleep.”

Shen Jiu’s mouth twitched. He rolled his eyes, snorting. Tianlang-Jun couldn't help the smile that spread across his face.

Zhuzhi-lang raised his head, blinking slowly. Tianlang-Jun reached out to stroke his fingers along Zhuzhi-lang’s scaled head. He’d never gotten along with his sister much. But sometimes he’d think of her, of her wild laughter over drinks or the way her grin would sharpen when faced with a challenge. Zhuzhi-lang wasn’t much like her, but Tianlang-Jun still hoped she’d be proud of her strange and noble son. 

“Nephew, would you let me speak with A-Jiu alone?”

Zhuzhi-lang blinked wide golden eyes, then turned to slither up Shen Jiu’s arm. His tongue flickered out, brushing against Shen Jiu’s nose. Shen Jiu huffed, but raised a hand to stroke along the top of Zhuzhi-lang’s head. 

“It’s fine, go on,” Shen Jiu said. Zhuzhi-lang’s tongue flickered out once more, then he slithered back down to drop onto the floor. Tianlang-Jun watched him as he disappeared out the door then took a seat on the side of the bed.

“My nephew is very fond of you,” Tianlang-Jun said. Shen Jiu’s gaze cut away, a slight pink dusting his ears. He couldn’t resist, reaching out to tuck a strand of Shen Jiu’s beautiful hair out of his face. He wondered how long he could get his A-Jiu to grow it out, wondered if he’d let Tianlang-Jun help him take care of it.

“You shouldn’t tell people that we’re betrothed to get your way,” Shen Jiu huffed, pulling away from Tianlang-Jun’s hand. “They’ll get the wrong impression.”

Tianlang-Jun frowned. “And what wrong impression is that, A-Jiu?”

The pink color flushed over his cheeks and Tianlang-Jun wanted to lean in, to press his lips to the heated skin, to drag his tongue across it and hear the kind of noise Shen Jiu would make. 

“That we’re…” he trailed off, arms crossing around himself. “That you wanted to marry me.”

Tianlang-Jun’s brow furrowed. “But I do want to marry you.” 

Shen Jiu jerked up, shooting a glare at him. “What do you mean you want to marry me?”

“I thought that was obvious. I want us to be married!” He had no idea how Shen Jiu could have thought any different.

“That was not obvious!” Shen Jiu snapped. “You didn’t say.”

“What did I need to say?” Tianlang-Jun defended. “I brought you here to my palace. I gifted you the rooms meant for my empress. And all the gifts! A-Jiu, is it not human custom to offer courting gifts?”

Shen Jiu was gaping at him. “What?” He asked. “What are you even talking about? Courting– I–” He shook his head, sinking back against the mound of cushions. “You’re a fool. A shameless fool. All those novels have rotted your mind.”

“A-Jiu–”

“Don’t A-Jiu me!” Shen Jiu scowled. He was really too cute like that. Tianlang-Jun wanted to press him back into those cushions and kiss him senseless. “Don’t you know how to speak to people? You don’t just drop courting gifts on someone. You need to ask first. Shameless and utter fool.” 

Tianlang-Jun couldn't have helped the smile twitching up his lips if he had tried. “And what did you think my intentions were?”

Shen Jiu stiffened. The pink flush on his cheeks darkened. It really was too cute. His A-Jiu, so vicious, so capable, but also still a little shy. He’d never known such a combination could be real. He reached out and threaded their fingers together,

“A-Jiu?”

Shen Jiu huffed, eyes darting away. “I thought you were playing some ridiculous game.” He paused and then mumbled. “I thought that you wanted to have sex with me.”

“I do want to have sex with you.” Tianlang-Jun’s smile softened. “I want to learn every sound you’ll make when I touch you, every thing that would bring you pleasure, I want to memorize the way your lovely face looks when you come.” His fingers tightened around Shen Jiu’s before he could jerk away. “But I also want to marry you. I’m in love with you, A-Jiu.”

Shen Jiu’s fingers twitched in Tianlang-Jun’s grip, his shoulders climbing towards his ears.

“You can’t be in love with me,” he said. And oh, that wouldn’t do.

“But I am,” Tianlang-Jun said. “A-Jiu doesn't have to believe me. But I am in love with you. I’d wait a thousand years for you if I had to.” 

“Stupid.” Shen Jiu’s fingers began to shake in his own. He ran his thumb along the smooth skin, soft and slow. “This isn’t one of your ridiculous books. No one does that.”

“I don’t care,” Tianlang-Jun shrugged. Shen Jiu’s eyes cut up to his. “A-Jiu, even if no one else in the world feels the way I do, that would change nothing. When we’re married, I promise that I will make you happy. If it’s within my power, I’ll give you anything you wish.”

Shen Jiu snorted. “When we’re married?”

Tianlang-Jun grinned. “Mmhmm. When.”

He watched a shudder ripple across Shen Jiu’s shoulders, his free hand curled tight against his robes. His A-Jiu so cautious, so suspicious. Tianlang-Jun wanted to gather everyone that had ever touched Shen Jiu and make them pay a thousand-fold for hurting him. It was glorious watching A-Jiu slay his enemies, but he couldn’t help but want to bring back that selfish young master that had tortured his A-Jiu, the fool from the trade delegation that had thought he could take what was Tianlang-Jun’s. He wanted them to suffer more for what they had done. But he would never dare take away Shen Jiu’s victories. He would just have to be satisfied with the image of A-Jiu covered in blood, in glory and triumph.

“If you want us to be married,” Shen Jiu said. His voice was hard, cold in a way that sent a pulse of heat straight down Tianlang-Jun’s spine. But his eyes were still cast down, fingers still tangled in his robes. “Then Junshang should endeavor to plan a celebration fit for his future empress.”

Tianlang-Jun blinked. His heart fluttered. “A-Jiu!” He knew he shouldn’t, knew Zhuzhi-lang had been right to scold him for being too intimate with Shen Jiu, but in this, he couldn't help himself. He tugged Shen Jiu forward and pressed their lips together. Shen Jiu made a little squeak against his mouth. Tianlang-Jun groaned, deep affection warming him to the tips of his toes. They separated for barely a moment before pushing back together, Shen Jiu’s lips soft and warm against his own. 

He wanted to stay there the rest of the night, breathing in Shen Jiu’s air, learning the curves of the inside of his mouth. But there was boiling energy running through him and he couldn’t wait. Shen Jiu had agreed. Shen Jiu would marry him. He hopped up from the bed. There were so many plans to make. And the night was still young. He could still summon the tailor. It would take time to make the perfect wedding robes for his A-Jiu. How beautiful he would look in red.

He paused, turning back to find Shen Jiu watching him, that little furrow cut between his brows. He gave in to the urge and stroked a finger along the divot, then he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the smooth skin. How precious his A-Jiu was. How lucky Tianlang-Jun had been to find him.

He raised Shen Jiu’s hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it then pressed it above his heart. He was sure A-Jiu could feel the rapid beat within his chest.

“Sleep well, beloved A-Jiu,” he leaned down to whisper into Shen Jiu’s ear. “As long as I live, no one will come between us.”

Shen Jiu’s eyes met his, wide and pale green. The smallest smile curled up his lips before he ducked his head, then he nodded. Tianlang-Jun smiled back.