The Emperor's favorite lotus

IV.

The Emperor's eyes sparkled as he was caught peeping over his black sleeve. The old master rolled his eyes, half his face hidden by a barrier of white.

"Beast, are you going to keep watching me? You have several realms to command and you waste your time watching me various times a day." The gold of the details of the fan danced with every movement against She Jiu's face, cherry blossoms on a background of the same tone as the tatamis. Much of his black hair was arranged in a high bun, the hairpins of the gold headdress with glass details in the shapes of snowdrops, tied together with silver thread in perfect harmony. The rest of the big tangle fell in neat, clean locks, adding to the master's face an aura of irreverence, of complete isolation from the rest of the humans.

Shen Jiu was almost complete on his ancient throne. The dainty feet sheathed in snowy stockings, his long legs hidden and chaste under a great deal of the best clothes. Down his stomach was the finest food, down the man's throat went only the finest teas. Now Shen Jiu needed only one other person to give him a kingdom over which to rule.

And the half demon was the only person capable of giving Shen Jiu a place worthy of him.

Luo Binghe smiled obnoxiously without answering the direct question, his face in his open hand while the rest of his body remained the same as a statue in front of the table. All around the Emperor scrolls scattered in no apparent order, bowls of already dried ink and untouched brushes still waiting to be used.

The work was urgent before, a mere obstacle now in the way of devoting his full attention to Shen Jiu. Luo Binghe found more amusement in feasting his eyes on the treasure of Qing Jing Peak and decorating it with the best he could afford in that world. Besides, the jade of the accessories and of several of the writing instruments was the Emperor's pride, he himself had mined it from Cang Qiong on one of the last trips to the world of humans before the merger.

In the silence of conversation, the candles danced with the air that was now coming in through the ventilation windows. Occasionally, a breeze would bring with it the scent of peonies and jasmine from the gardens. If he closed his eyes, Luo Binghe found himself transported next to Shen Yuan and the hut filled with the physical memories of the relationship, years and years trapped in tiny objects and in the shadows of memories in the summer sun.

The old master examined his facade before letting out a sigh. It was impossible to read his old pupil's true intentions and it was time to give up on his attempts. Shen Jiu was not grateful to still be alive, just to be free from the terrible physical pain of the past few months. Yue Qingyuan's death was enough to keep him awake on the few nights where Luo Binghe didn't knock him unconscious. He shook off the pressure in the chest and returned to his making of some new garments with the fabrics of the same color as the stones that now decorated his hair.

Shen Jiu looked down at the pattern of the fabrics. He frowned. The Beast was still watching him like the day before, the day before, and the day before that. The act of creating was always one of his most intimate moments. Whether it was writing a letter, performing calligraphy, or correcting his students' exercises. However, like the rest of his activities, the old Master always preferred to do them alone, the reflection on the discreet mirrors the only witness. It was the only time where Shen Jiu could put his head down, cry if any memory came back, become unconscious after drinking too much wine.

When the man came back to reality, he found he had lost the site of the pattern he was drawing and some of the inspiration for the vision for the kimono. Unable to help himself, Shen Jiu cast another glance at Luo as he folded the fabrics, put away the patterns and left the rest of the instruments in the appropriate box. Shen Jiu rose carefully, his footsteps a rustle of the clothes.

Of course, the Emperor did not detach his attention nor did he miss the way the man bit his own lips, when Shen Jiu brushed the hair away from his face or the slight marks on the arms where Luo Binghe had rejoined the forearms to the elbows.

The master's decisions in life were always focused on surviving, now would not be the first time he had used his heart. Love had kept him locked in a barn, tied to abuses he could not yet turn to face. Hate, on the other hand, had given Shen Jiu the path of cultivation and a peak over which to command. It had also taken him away from the person he cared about most and from happiness. However, but when you didn't know that feeling, it took little to lose.

Shen Jiu reached into one of the compartments where the tea was kept. Personal play was one of the pleasures he was grateful to have again. The master returned next to the Emperor, sitting down right next to him. He took out the teapot, the herbs and a couple of cups. Also the stirring tool.

"Why don't you join me for a while? Even if it's with you, drinking alone is pretty boring." Shen Jiu encouraged himself to caress the other's knee. "Go heat up some water."

Despite no one's command, Luo Binghe got up. The Emperor folded all the papers and put away the scrolls, put the remains of the ink stick aside. He reached for one of the metal teapots and entertained himself in that while Shen Jiu prepared the mixture according to his own taste. As soon as the water was at the right temperature, the Beast emptied the liquid into the teapot and sat down next to his master again, stroking his face gently.

"Green tea again? You are an animal of habit." He approached his master's cup, digging his fingernail into his hand so that his blood formed a floor of liquid at the bottom of it. "A little extra to give it some more flavor."

Shen Jiu blinked as if that liquid was some kind of honey, serving them both with calculated and appropriate movements. In a few moments, the aroma of the herbs floated into the air and relaxed both of them.

"I don't understand why you have to vary when you find the perfect choices," The old master whispered before taking a sip, blowing the surface again and taking another long sip. The steam danced on his eyelashes, "Why have you put your blood in this? You've ruined an excellent tea."

"I said. To give it some more flavor."

The liquid was gone in a single gulp, the heat completely beyond Shen Jiu's control. His stomach filled with a sensation full of pain and horror, but also with a new strength that soon spread to his arms and legs.

Luo Binghe watched the transformation without the slightest sign of being surprised. Now that the demonic blood had penetrated his muscles, Shen Jiu could never leave him again. The tea had remained intact, the wound still on his finger. His claws tilted the master's face, the jades in his eyes more beautiful than those in his hair.

"Shizun." Without haste, but also without pause, the Empeor's slid his touch to open the other's robes. The man held still, letting him open the inner robes, Lou Binghe's fingertips caressing the symbol of "six" written with a knife many years before.

Binghe sought the Master's lips as he painted the white of the scars with the red of his brush, covering them, fading them at the end of that world forever. Then the touch moved down to Shen Jiu's crotch, his lips trapping the moans against the Master's tongue and teeth. Before he knew it, Shen Jiu was against the carpet of his symbol and their bodies were one, their kisses sounding against the walls.

"Shizun... Shizun.... " Excited, Luo Binghe gasped against his neck, the clothes soon a memory on the master's body as kisses, bites and licks replaced what were once bumps, scratches. The path of the half demon's blood followed through every mark other than those made by his own hands.

In suffering and in pleasure, Shen Jiu would be his alone. The trembling of the old master's figure from that day forward would be one of pleasure and not fear, his moans with the Emperor's name filled with a desperation different from that of death.

Luo Binghe's eyes glistened as he sank his face into the space of Shen Jiu's legs, the half demon's fingers scarred in the curve of his thighs.