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Tianlang-jun can't say that he's often interested in himself, unprompted, in weaklings or, more prone lately, in people, due to recent events, but it just so happens that the boy in green and white has come to him himself.
“We have a common goal”, the young man says, sitting down at his table in a tea house on the border of the Demon Realm, as if they are continuing some long ago conversation left until better times. That being said, he sees this man for the first time. He doesn't have a very memorable appearance and dark tired eyes, yet full of some determination that meets his red eyes. “You want to resurrect your nephew?”
If Tianlang-jun was approached by every stranger with such an interesting proposal, his life would be many times more pleasant.
The stranger's name is Ming Fan, and he's Qing Jing's chief disciple, and at times temporarily full lord of the peak, since Shen Qingqiu has been in mourning for a long time, then dead, then on his honeymoon, then with his husbands... Frankly, Tianlang-jun is surprised that there's someone who avoids the responsibilities of his position more than he does.
He wonders if the Lord of the second Peak has always been like this, and gets an answer:
“I think my shizun has been dead for many years”, Ming Fan pulls scrolls from his sleeves and spreads them out, pointing to dates, names, brief events documented and carefully transcribed, ”I have no proof other than my words and the old opinions of my shizun here and there, what's in the medical records or their words from that time, but that doesn't matter. If the call of the soul does not work, there is nothing to return”, what dangerous things this young man is saying.
Just because his son played with death and summoning souls didn't mean anyone could do it. If bringing someone back from the other side of the world was that easy, the world would look very different. However, his son for some reason was either born under a lucky star or a favorite of the gods that he summoned the soul he was looking for.
However, his son, like this young man, is a disciple of Qing Jing Peak, and Tianlang-jun wonders if they are being given lessons in recklessness there.
“And why does Immortal Master think that this gentleman would agree to get involved in this adventure?” Tianlang-jun knows that there are artifacts even if he doesn't know where they are, and he would easily agree to this endeavor, but he wonders why this person came to him and not anyone else. Indeed, many demons, let alone humans, would rather shun him because of who he was, or who he still is.
Ming Fan, on the other hand, looks at him with the same empty black eyes as if it's obvious.
“What do you have to lose?”
Tianlang-jun chuckles, feeling the lingering shiver he had when he first met Xiyan
Truly, what do they teach the children there in Qing Jing?
It's an intermittent journey, as Ming Fan is still the unrecognized lord of the whole peak, and Tianlang-jun partly even feels sorry for him; he didn't expect Lord Shen not to do even the bare minimum to manage his own domain. By this point, though, disappointment is something he's used to when it comes to people. He wonders if this man will disappoint him as well.
They build their search and investigation over the years, piece by piece, tile by tile and beam by beam, as if it were a palace.
Tianlang-jun loved traveling, but always hated doing it alone.
It's also fun for him to see how half of their deals and arrangements are kept up by being sold here and there overnight (ah, sorry, treatment) to bribe the right people and demons. Tianlang-jun actually feels like he might laugh out loud when he thinks about it; people seem to call it pimping. On the other hand, it's convenient that he himself doesn't need to find anyone for carnal pleasure because Heavenly Demons will always have needs.
“You don't need to look so pleased”, and the outer garment is thrown in his direction because Tianlang-jun has lost two of his layers out of three somewhere, and the man turns away from him, focusing on the map; the other man's ears are slightly red, and Tianlang-jun wants to bite them.
As the years pass, because it's never a quick path (and because it's not worth it for his son and Lord Shen to know what either of them do; even to know that they know each other), Tianlang-jun knows probably more about the man's habits than he does. Ming Fan is a surprisingly meticulous man, perhaps even boring, and in other circumstances Tianlang-jun wouldn't have even looked at him a second time. But there was something that pushed aside anything that didn't attract his eyes — loyalty.
Ming Fan was loyal to his shizun in a way that Tianlang-jun knew only from Zhuzhi-lang, a child raised by himself.
And Tianlang-jun feels the familiar demonic within him: want.
Faking one bad trip not going exactly the right way because Tianlang-jun knows a shortcut is easy. Of course, there are aphrodisiacs in that path. Tianlang-jun doesn't know how a human could build all their routes without a hint of such flowers and monsters, but they had to go for the deception.
Ming Fan had certainly figured him out, but he was already infected, however, that didn't stop the scholar from hitting him with the folded map in his hand before plowing him to the ground.
Tianlang-jun likes to be fucked with anger and roughness.
“You could have just asked, you bastard”, Ming Fan mutters unhappily.
“That's too easy a way”, lounges Tianlang-jun in orgasm.
And then Tianlang-jun flips them over, easily ready to switch places; Ming Fan slaps his chest unhappily, but doesn't push him away.
Twenty-six years later, they find what they were looking for.
His nephew looks at him perplexed with his big yellow eyes for one second, a second, and then begins to worry about him; 'it's been a long time, A-Zhu', he whispers softly into his hair.
Shen Qingqiu... returns; and the first thing he does is reprimand his student with coldness and anger saved for others, calling everyone blind and idiots — Ming Fan smiles gently, repeating: of course, shifu.