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Shang Qinghua should have known something was wrong the moment Mobei-jun asked him to have tea with him.
His king never wasted time on that sort of thing.
He wasn’t the type to decide it was okay to take a break, not when he was so intense, all the damn time.
But Shang Qinghua was tired: managing the logistics of both his Peak and an entire kingdom left very little time for general existence, and a cup of tea was a completely harmless thing that wouldn’t hurt anyone.
He’d forgotten what a shitty world he’d written.
“Is it good?” Mobei-jun asked after Shang Qinghua had drunk his cup, while his was still uneaten.
“It’s good,” the cultivator said, even though he had swallowed it all without thinking too much, because he was so damn thirsty.
“Now, we want to get back to work for…”
“How do you feel?”
The question hit him, coming completely unexpectedly. Shang Qinghua blinked a couple of times, confused, “What?”
“I asked: how do you feel?” his king asked again, his tone slow, as if he were dealing with a child or a very stupid person. Very insulting, he certainly wasn’t a scholar on the level of Shen Qingqiu, but he was smart, otherwise he would have no idea how to handle taxes.
“Look, I heard you, but you’re not usually interested, so…” he froze, putting both hands over his mouth, his heart tightening in his chest with terror.
He couldn’t have really said that! He couldn’t have been that tired to say that to his future assassin’s face…
But he saw something: Mobei-jun looked pleased, as if he expected something like that. As if he wanted it.
Then he felt his body freeze. He had thought that a cup of tea was completely harmless, but he should have known, damn it. Mobei-jun hated him so much that he wouldn’t have had any qualms about using a damn drug on him.
“What is it?” he asked, terrified of seeing red System screens appear in front of him to remind him of the penalties he risked if he revealed his existence, “Heavenly Dragon Lotus? Southern Mountain Green Tea? Or…”
“Loose Pearls of the Mermaid Queen of the Western Sea,” the demon replied, making the other man shudder, “The pearls of the Mermaid Queen…they are so fucking rare! You…you even bothered to find those pearls for me? Not for your uncle or one of your other relatives who are ready to stab you in the back?!”
“Yes,” came the curt reply, and damn, it hurt.
He shouldn’t be this shocked, not when he knew what the original Shang Qinghua was like. A guy like that definitely deserved to be given a truth serum without his knowledge – and there were plenty of them, he admitted, mostly used as plot devices to get reluctant wives to admit they wanted to ride the protagonist’s heavenly pillar like ancient Chinese cowgirls and not, like, more serious stuff like the super important scum villain trial – you couldn’t trust a scum like that.
But he’d never been anything but loyal to his king. He’d never plotted behind his back, weakened his claim to the North, killed allies, or any of that bullshit.
And he could do it! The System would probably prefer him to have followed his role better than fight so hard to change it! It would have been easier for sure, at least he wouldn’t have had to do all those damn missions to collect extra points so he could have his way!
What was the point? Being beaten three times a day, his mere presence barely tolerated, and now drugged!
Fuck it all.
“What have I done?” he asked, fighting the burning in his eyes, because he wouldn’t cry now, not when the wrong word would get him killed by either Mobei-jun or the System.
(It would have been so easy to give up, tell them everything, and wait for the consequences. But deep down Shang Qinghua was still a coward, desperate to live. Even if the price of his survival would have to be his own dignity.)
“You’re hiding something from me,” Mobei-jun said, clenching his hands (trying not to hit him already?) “You’ve been doing this for as long as I can remember. I need to know what it is.”
“What, you think I work for your uncle?!”
He wasn’t serious, nor did he mean to suggest it, but the demon’s stony expression confirmed that yes, he did believe it. And Shang Qinghua couldn’t help but yell, “Are you an idiot or what?!”
Mobei looked at him in surprise, and maybe a little anger, but at that moment he didn’t care.
He knew he’d made most of his characters low IQ so as not to compete with Luo Binghe, but he thought he’d implied that Mobei-jun was one of the few with a little extra brain matter.
Apparently, he hadn’t made it clear enough.
“I swore to you that I would serve you forever,” he reminded him, his voice full of bitterness and so damned unhappy because no matter what world he was in, Shang Qinghua could never be good enough (not for his parents, not to get into college, not to get a decent job, not to write a good novel without professional haters reminding him how bad he was, and now not for his favorite character). “You think I’d make that vow to just anyone? It was for you that I betrayed humans! It was for you, not for that creapy bastard of your uncle! I spread false rumors about one of his concubines so he’d focus on his harem, I sabotaged all of his business deals outside of the Northern Kingdom to prevent him from gaining supporters, I gave his wife advice on how not to conceive a child because she hates him so much and refuses to bear that bastard’s offspring!”
Mobei-jun’s expression remained completely still, no sign that he was affected by all the trouble his servant had gone through for him.
Figures! It was probably the least Shang Qinghua could do to stay alive.
“Then, what are you hiding from me?” the demon pressed, the air growing cold around him, a useless display of power if you ask me what this humble transmigrator thought, “You’re never completely honest with me, hiding information from me, Qinghua. How can I trust you if you don’t trust me?”
Ahhh, fuck. Shang Qinghua had no one to blame but himself for giving his king so many trust issues that still affected him in his adulthood. In that world, there was no therapy and everyone made their traumas into other people’s problems (and if you don’t believe him, look how well it went with the original Shen Qingqiu and the whole Bingge harem situation and what a shitty father he became!)
“I’m the Peak Lord of Peak Logistics,” he blurted out, fighting the effects of the tea that were pushing him to say more, to give him all the ugly, twisted truth that Mobei-jun wanted so badly. Damn, that hurt. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that I’m in a privileged position to get information? Or that I’ve trained my disciples as my own super-cool Charlie’s Angels spy network?”
“Even information from the demon realm?” Mobei-jun came back, thankfully ignoring Shang Qinghua’s passing comment about his pretty face. “Information lost to the ages, information on objects long forgotten, or considered legendary? How are you so knowledgeable? Who are you?”
“Why do you want to know? You should be happy to have another arrow in your arsenal! I’m using this information for you, dammit!” Shang Qinghua yelled at him, his face red from the effort of not answering the questions he’d asked.
“I want to know why. Why do you have such knowledge and what do you use it for? You could use it for yourself and you’d be safe from everyone: gods, human cultivators, demons…me. And yet…”
“I do it because I like you, you fucking idiot!” he blurted out, and immediately regretted saying it, as Mobei-jun looked at him in disbelief. He wanted to stop there, but the damn tea wouldn’t let him, “You were my favorite from the beginning! Luo Binghe may be the damn Emperor, lord of the Three Realms, and husband to over six hundred beauties, but you were the first one I wanted to create! Do you know how bad my life was? With no money, eating only cheap noodles, and sometimes I couldn’t even afford to eat anything! It wasn’t a life! I was alone, and I wanted…someone strong, trustworthy, loyal, who would always choose me, not like everyone else did! And then I wrote the rest, but the protagonist took all the spotlights, but that was okay, you were still mine in a way and the fans couldn’t get all perverted with you! Then…then I died and you were…you were real and…”
He heard a familiar pin, but Shang Qinhua didn’t even see the pink screen. He was crying. God, it was so pathetic.
Mobei-jun finally showed a little emotion but he couldn’t figure out why he was crying and couldn’t stop and Christ, he was probably going to die.
“What does this mean…you’re the first one I created?”
“What do you think that could mean? Come on, I know I gave you more IQ than people like Ming Fan! You figured out what it means and you keep asking questions, but if you ask me any more, then I’ll have to answer you, and I’ll die…”
“No!” Mobei-jun cut him off, standing up suddenly, ice appearing on the table. “You’re not going to die.”
Damn, he didn’t understand! “Yes, I will die! If I can’t tell you certain things, it’s because I can’t! Either you kill me because I’ve caused so much pain to, well, everyone, especially you, or he’ll kill me…another thing, because you gave me a fucking tea to make me spit out my dirty little secrets!”
“What will kill you? Qinghua, answer…”
“Are you…an idiot? I told you that if I tell you…ah, you probably won’t even care if I lose my life!”
Mobei-jun looked like he had just been punched in the stomach by Luo Binghe, “You think I wouldn’t care?”
“Of course you wouldn’t care! You hit me three times a day, sometimes more, and it hurts, damn it. I’m not a strong cultivator, it takes me a while to heal, and sometimes you don’t even let me do it! I’m almost convinced that you’re waiting for the day when I can’t get up anymore, or…or maybe you’ll get tired of playing with me and then kill me, like you always should have done!”
Another System pin, but what the hell. Now it was almost certain that Mobei-jun would flay him alive or feed him to hundreds of ants.
The demon however remained perfectly still, no murderous aura directed at Shang Qinghua. Which didn’t mean much, he could just be waiting for the right moment or he wanted to question him further.
His life sucked.
“I would care.”
Shang Qinghua stared at him like he had grown a second head as the demon continued, “I would care if you died. The thought of it is unbearable.”
“It’s not like you’re doing a great job of proving it! If anything, it looks like the opposite! I still have broken ribs from last time! Do you know how much they fucking hurt? Of course not, to you I’m a useless, pathetic human being only good as a spy and…”
He coughed, spitting up blood, staining parts of his face, his clothes, the floor, and his hands. The room began to spin and Shang Qinghua heard a distant sound, a kind of laughter.
Wait, was that him? Was that him laughing? What the fuck! He didn't remember that the side effects included becoming a botleg version of the Joker!
A pesky pin, then the System's blue screen appeared.
[Security protocol initiated. User will experience a small qi deviation to exit this plot. We thank the user for joining our Pusher service…]
Pusher service? When did he ever join?! This was a scam! Hey, System, he wanted compensation! Small qi deviation? He was dying here, asshole!
The strength in his legs failed him, and he fell. He was ready to face the cold floor, but he was quickly caught by two strong arms that held him up.
Even with his blurry vision, he could see his king fidgeting and yelling at him not to close his eyes. It was quite scary, but for once in his pathetic life, Shang Qinghua wasn't afraid.
“God, I hate this world,” he mumbled, passing out like any swooning reverse harem heroine.
Qi deviation, the healer had said. A rather nasty deviation, one that could kill a human cultivator if not treated in time.
A qi deviation that Mobei-jun had caused, but the healer had been careful not to mention it.
He didn’t have to say it, though. Despite Shang Qinghua’s (well-deserved) accusations, Mobei-jun wasn’t stupid. He’d put the pieces together.
He’d shocked Shang Qinghua to the point of causing a qi deviation, nearly killing him, all because he couldn’t trust his servant.
What did I do? Shang Qinghua asked, sounding so broken, as if he didn’t believe his loyalty could be reciprocated with such an act.
And now he could admit it: Shang Qinghua had never been anything but loyal to him.
Even if Mobei didn’t understand it. Even if his paranoia drove him to look for signs of something else in every action, to find out at all costs what he was hiding from him.
Because that was how things had always worked for him, people never did anything freely just because they wanted to. No one did anything without getting something in return.
It was all justification after the fact, to justify the total lack of honor he had shown toward someone who was giving him everything.
He had acted like that man, and Shang Qinghua had been right to be incredulous when he realized that a rarity like the pearls had been used for him and not his uncle.
Mobei had shown more respect to the man who had abandoned him in the human world to die, rather than to the one who had saved his life when he shouldn’t have.
(His ancestors would be so ashamed of him for such a lack of honor.)
Now, with at least some of the answers he sought, he realized that if the price was Shang Qinghua’s life, it wasn’t worth it.
“I owe you many debts,” he said to the unconscious form of Shang Qinghua lying in bed, pale as a ghost, or perhaps a ghost himself, a fallen god betrayed by his own creations. His favorite, he had called him. Who could boast of being a god’s favorite? And who was so foolish as to just throw it away? “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to pay for it all. I treated you in a way that was unworthy of your status, both as a fallen god and as a Peak Lord. I hurt you…”
He stopped. He knew humans were fragile. He had seen it. He hadn’t thought that cultivators were fragile, too.
(A bad part of him hadn’t thought about it. He hadn’t wondered how Shang Qinghua did after each beating, or whether he had healed after the next. It was no surprise that the human thought Mobei hated him. )
He sat down next to Shang Qinghua’s bed, and took his hand. He would wait for him to wake up, and wait for the decision the cultivator would make.
If he no longer wanted to be his subordinate, Mobei, even if it would destroy him, would let him go.
It was the least he could do for the person who he…
Whatever he wanted to say, he was interrupted by a servant who entered the bedroom and announced in a panic that a young half-demon with the blood of the Heavenly Demons in his veins had arrived in the Northern Territories.