This is the last time Shen Qiao ever helps Bai Rong with a problem.
He tried to explain to her in the first place that he only comes down the mountain to handle important affairs. Issues relating to the future of the emperor, or grave situations where humans may be at risk of serious harm. Other than that, Shen-zhangjiao is very busy! He has disciples to teach and a cloistered sect to manage. Elders to placate, slowly bringing Mount Xuandu into the modern era.
But Bai Rong was persistent.
"I see, daozhang," she pouted. After exhausting all her other tricks. "You'll come down the mountain for matters relating to the Huanyue sect, but nothing else."
That's not what Shen Qiao said at all! He hadn't even mentioned Yan Wushi, why was she bringing up Huanyue sect—
So, to keep matters civil between the demonic sects (he supposed this fell under his jurisdiction now), Shen Qiao agreed to take a look at the problem. Bai Rong had mentioned something about a non-native flower appearing where it shouldn't have. As they descended the mountain and light-stepped to the village in question, she explained more.
Apparently, a purple lotus had blossomed on the outskirts of town. All the villagers refused to get anywhere near it. Everyone was doing their best to give the flower the widest berth possible for some reason. As a result, traffic could not proceed smoothly in and out of the town. Some of the village elders approached the Hehuan sect about the issue (which was strange enough in itself, why ask a demonic sect for help with mundane affairs?). Bai Rong was amenable to assisting them, thanks to her capricious but goodhearted nature, yet, with her limited world experience, she did not know what to do.
She said that every time she approached the flower it would release some kind of purple dust that made her feel dizzy. And drunk.
"A bit like…hmm, does daozhang really understand these things…?" She threw Shen Qiao a smile and giggled. "Well, but then, you're with him , so…"
No question whom she was referring to.
"I don't take your meaning," Shen Qiao answered. Legitimately. He had no idea what she was talking about.
Although, the way Bai Rong was giggling gave him pause. He chose to leave the matter there.
As soon as Bai Rong introduced Shen Qiao to the flower, he knew it was the work of mischief. A lotus had bloomed on the side of a dirt road, nowhere near water or any other aquatic plants. Also, the rich purple color of the petals was astonishing! A wine-drenched, eye-popping violet that absorbed the color of everything around it. Like a sponge. Drinking in the scenery.
Also. The roots of the lotus flower (topical though they usually are) were black and visible through the topsoil. Definitely not normal.
"This is clearly demonic," Shen Qiao announced, stopping short before approaching the thing. "Perhaps a plot of some kind from a rogue demonic practitioner. Though, what could be the purpose?"
He glanced at Bai Rong. Shouldn't she be the one to explain demonic arts? Being the Heyuan clan leader?
"I don't know," she said honestly. "I've never seen anything like this before."
"Hmm." Shen Qiao was aware of quite a few demonic tricks. Yan Wushi had taught him many, just to make sure Shen Qiao didn't fall victim to the obvious ones.
But of course, Yan Wushi did not teach him everything. Such a devilishly clever trick like this was almost unheard of! Could a demonic practitioner project their qi from quite some distance, giving it tangible form…?
Curious, Shen Qiao got down on his knees and observed the flower. He was loath to approach it, knowing how ruthless some of these demonic tricks could be. But it was difficult to discern anything from afar.
He inhaled quietly, gathering himself. If this flower was the work of mischief, and if it was disrupting the life of regular people in the area, then it was Shen Qiao's responsibility to handle it. Someone had to do something. Shen Qiao, with his martial skills, could probably avoid the most dangerous side effects. His senses were quite sharp these days.
So he sat down directly in front of the flower.
"Daozhang, wait—!"
This lotus had animalistic qualities. It seemed to breathe on its own; the petals rose and fell rhythmically. Almost hypnotically. Shen Qiao pressed the hilt of his sword to the petals and...
Sparkly purple dust puffed out of the lotus's center. A vicious exhale, obviously a defense mechanism. This plant was aggressive!
Moving on instinct, Shen Qiao covered his nose with his sleeve. He unsheathed his sword and slashed the flower straight through its trunk. It gasped for a moment, untethered by stem or root, then slowly collapsed in on itself. The petals and the mysteriously visible roots crinkled. Evaporating into the afternoon sun.
"You did it! But...how…?"
Shen Qiao was surprised as well! He hadn't thought the flower would be this easy to dispose of!
Unfortunately, he had inhaled some of the dust on reflex. He stopped his breathing before ingesting too much, but inevitably some of the particles entered his nose and mouth. He could taste them. Scratchy and strangely sweet.
A quick check of his meridians turned up no immediate signs of distress. His breathing was normal. His airways were clear. His vitals were uninhibited.
Strange.
"You're really amazing!" Bai Rong laughed and shook her head. "I tried the same thing, but my blade couldn't even land a scratch. I guess this is the power of the Shanhe Tongbei sword, hm?"
Possibly yes. The most likely explanation is that Bai Rong's blade, which relied on demonic arts, was ineffective against tricks of the same type. So Shen Qiao's untainted sword acted as a purifier.
Well, that was fine, but…
Shen Qiao's fingertips were starting to feel as scratchy as his throat. He hadn't touched the plant directly at all, so this must be a side effect of the dust. Best not to underestimate things like this. He'd better return to the mountain as quickly as possible and meditate. Focus on expelling the toxins. Return his body to equilibrium.
He bid a hasty farewell to Bai Rong and hurried back to the pavilion. By the time he reached the top of the mountain, he was out of breath and dizzy. His breathing was coming from somewhere below his navel. He could feel each inhale in his abdomen. Lower, and lower still…
Oh.
The blush on his cheeks and the sweat on the back of his neck told the whole story. This must be the other side effect Bai Rong had eluded to.
Inconvenient.
Before anyone could see him, Shen Qiao light-stepped to the purple pavilion and locked the door. He was sweating profusely and his hands were shaking. Itchiness crawled underneath his skin—in that place. A place Shen Qiao had spent most of his life not thinking about. Until fate wove his path together with Yan Wushi's, and then…
But this feeling differed still. Shen Qiao noticed that he was not erect, like he normally would be when he felt this kind of coiling tension. There was a need inside of him, pressing and pressing against his awareness. He was suddenly dying of thirst. He poured himself a glass of water and swallowed it in one gulp. The cool water felt good going down, but it didn't solve the problem.
Shen Qiao wondered what would.
If Yan Wushi were here, he would…
An ache pulsed through his heart and the inner workings of his muscles. It was familiar. Shen Qiao often felt this way when he missed Yan Wushi.
When he missed his husband.
They married in secret, of course. They performed the bows to each other with an audience of none. Days later, Shen Qiao told his disciples what happened (after much pressing about the smile on his face that just wouldn't go away). Shiwu was full of regret that he had missed it! He almost cried! Yuwen Song scolded him for being childish, but it was obvious that he too felt as if he had been cheated.
So, Shen Qiao explained to Yan Wushi that perhaps they needed an audience outside of heaven and earth. Yan Wushi was naturally excited. He had wanted a bigger ceremony from the beginning, but he left the final choice up to Shen Qiao for once.
"I could claim you in front of the mountains and the trees. Or in front of the entire imperial palace. Or the entire jianghu, if you like." Yan Wushi smiled with that devilish gleam in his eyes. "It makes no difference. In any case, you are mine and the world knows well enough that this venerable one's claim is absolute."
Shen Qiao's face burned at Yan Wushi's candidness. He chastised him in a roundabout way for lacking humility. But truthfully, he felt the same way. It didn't matter who saw him take Yan Wushi for his own; the fact of the matter could not be lessened in any way. They belonged to each other now. Husband and wife, spouse and spouse. A union as natural as the wind and the rivers, and just as indelible.
A marriage to Yan Wushi was perfect. No matter what kind of marriage it was.
Still, to satisfy their clans, Yan Wushi and Shen Qiao married formally in front of a small gathering of their sects. The Xuandu elders were not in attendance on principle, but all of Shen Qiao's martial siblings were there. He held their esteem in the highest regard anyway. Qi Fengge's memorial tablet was placed on an altar. They lit a stick of incense for Yu Ai. Yu Shengyan and Bian Yanmei were there. As well as Yan Wushi's servants from his various mansions, whom Shen Qiao delighted in seeing again.
It was one of the happiest days of Shen Qiao's life. After that day, his steps were no longer hesitant. Let the tongues wag around them (if they dared, which most did not). Shen Qiao had no need for the commentary of others, unless they wanted to challenge him to his face. Or if they disrespected his late master.
Shen Qiao had everything he needed to live a good life. An honest life. Devoted to his craft and to his husband. Moving forward unflinchingly. No regrets.
As he lay on the floor of the purple pavilion, shaking from the effects of that unnamed lotus, Shen Qiao could not help imagining what would happen if his husband were here right now. He knew exactly what Yan Wushi would do. He would take Shen Qiao in his inimitably strong arms and run his hot hands all over Shen Qiao's body. He would hike up the hem of Shen Qiao's robes and dig inside, searching for the needy curves of Shen Qiao's body. Which always, always yielded to him...
Shen Qiao exhaled softly. He wished Yan Wushi were here, not called away on sect business to some far corner of somewhere.
Gripping the fabric of his robes in futile distress, Shen Qiao assumed a meditative stance. There was nothing he could do except try to get control of himself. He could will these inane desires away. Of course he could. He could enter a state where the physical didn't matter at all…
Oh, but, Yan Wushi's clever tongue along the ridges of Shen Qiao's chest. Smiling as he licked, as if he had won some kind of prize to be able to put his mouth there. Wherever he wished. And his breath, ghosting Shen Qiao's most sensitive places—
Breathe. Breathe. This will pass.
It will.
After several hours, Shen Qiao succeeded. Then he fell immediately asleep.
____________________________
The following morning, Shen Qiao awakens to find himself still wearing his day clothes. He's sitting on the floor, hunched over from a lost meditative stance. It doesn't take long to figure out what must have happened.
He's feeling much better, though. His temperature has gone down. His body is...quieter. His thoughts are more cohesive.
So it was just one night. That's fortunate. Nothing Shen Qiao couldn't handle.
The moment he stands up, he realizes something is wrong. A frown crosses his brow in confusion.
That's...the sensation is…
Now, in spite of Shen Qiao's general disinterest in matters of the flesh prior to the span of the last few years, he is still a man. There is naturally a certain level of panic that comes from the sensation he has in this moment. The sense of a sudden...lack. An absence. A removal .
Frantically, he tugs away his clothes and feels that singular place.
...Oh. Oh, it's not a removal.
It's a replacement.
Well then.
It's not entirely foreign in the sense that it still feels like a human organ. Warm and...responsive to touch. Shen Qiao is aware he is touching himself. He can feel his fingers on layers of fleshy folds and the touch reverberates somewhere inside of him. There is damp flesh, supple and shapely in certain places...and a hole. A slippery entrance that Shen Qiao's finger nearly slides into after the first touch. Accidentally! There is so little resistance—!
With a gasp, he stops touching. As a medical professional, of course Shen Qiao is familiar with the terms and the general make-up of this organ. But, in fairness, he has never seen one in real life (the opportunity never presented itself). Needless to say he has never touched one. Let alone his own!
Alright.
So, alright.
Shen Qiao takes a deep breath, willing away the panic that comes with the knowledge that his body has been violated. Altered. Against his wishes.
There's no time to panic about that now. He needs to hurry and find a cure.
This is no different than that time Shen Qiao found himself suddenly transported twenty years in the past. At the time, he had no idea how he had gotten there or what he could possibly do to return home. However, he calmly did the only thing one could do in a situation like that: He acted normally. Following the cues of his shizun, taking step after step in that world (one that he recognized at least), and continuing forthrightly to the next thing. And the next, and the next. One thing at a time.
In the end, the issue resolved itself.
Most likely, this issue will too. It cannot be permanent, that would be ridiculous! Omnipotently powerful! A technique like that could not be kept hidden, Shen Qiao would have heard about it by now. So this must be just a temporary affliction. Like a poison ivy rash or a swollen arm from a bee sting. Just like that.
Yes.
Steeling himself, Shen Qiao rises to his feet. Even with this movement though, his internal balance feels...skewed. The familiar padding that normally greets him between his legs is gone. In its place is what feels like a mouth of some kind. When Shen Qiao focuses on it for too long, it starts to twitch. He can feel that hole twitching! Clenching around nothing, as if it's missing a certain—
Unbidden, Yan Wushi's image appears in his mind. Uncannily so. Like this hungry little mouth has arrived for a singular purpose. It knows inherently where its need can be satiated.
No. Shen Qiao forces the pressure of his breath downward, calming that twitching mouth. No. Yan Wushi has nothing to do with this. Shen Qiao knows that as well as he knows anything.
Yan Wushi would surely use this to create more mischief. He relishes any opportunity to frazzle Shen Qiao, as they both know. He would somehow find a devilish way to torment Shen Qiao for his predicament.
Not only that, Shen Qiao can admit he is slightly embarrassed that this happened to him at all. Losing his proverbial son because he acted rashly and touched some alien plant without knowing its biology. Yes, Shen Qiao would prefer this issue pass under the radar of everyone he knows, especially his husband (who would have very many things to say about his lost deer of a husband wandering into grasses too tall, or something).
Not that he blames himself. Shen Qiao does not second guess his decisions. He did what he could with the information he had at the time, with the purpose of helping the villagers. If he could do it all over again, he would not decline Bai Rong's offer.
He would, however, exercise just a bit more caution around that hazardous dust.
But it doesn't matter. He made his choices and this is the result. He must move forward with the intent to find a path back to normalcy. It's the only option now.
So, straightening his shoulders, drawing upon the wealth of calm he has cultivated his entire life, Shen Qiao walks out of his bedchambers and begins his daily routine.
The act of walking with this new organ is so strange. Shen Qiao cannot take a single step without thinking about it. His thighs are rubbing against each other in a way they normally would not. His underclothes are also riding up rather uncomfortably. He needs to pause and subtly readjust his stance to try to unstick his clothes from his body. However, the task is tricky! Swerving his hips around does not fix the issue. In fact, it only makes matters worse. Now his clothes are stuck to him so closely he's worried that the outline of his new sex will be visible from afar.
...A brief glance downwards shows that it is not. Thank goodness! But still, he is not able to properly fix the issue without reaching a hand between his legs. Yet, he is already in the main hall. How can he possibly…?
"Good morning, shizun!"
Shiwu's energetic greeting startles Shen Qiao in a way it normally never does. He is in the middle of such a predicament he didn't even notice his disciple walking up behind him.
"Good morning," he greets, nodding demurely. His face is a mask of undisturbed spring water. Still. Fresh. Clean. But inside, his heart has begun to panic.
Shiwu brightens immediately the same way he does whenever he looks at his master. "When shall we begin practice this morning? Shidi is already in the training hall."
Shen Qiao pauses. Training should begin promptly, as always. But Shen Qiao certainly won't be able to train the children adequately if he is...like this.
"I need to attend to an urgent matter first," he tells his disciple. It is quite shameful to put him off like this, because of this nearly comical situation, but. It can't be helped. "You get started without me and run through the stances I taught you yesterday."
Shiwu's brows furrow slightly. "An urgent matter? Has something else happened in town?" He is aware that Shen Qiao just went down the mountain yesterday. "Can this disciple help with anything?"
Even though there is no way Shiwu could possibly understand any part of what Shen Qiao is going through, a note of horror strikes him in the chest at the suggestion.
"No, no, thank you," he hurries to say (perhaps too quickly). "I appreciate your diligence, but I'm just going to the library to do some research. It is more pressing that you begin your training on time."
Shiwu does not seem entirely convinced. To be fair, Shen Qiao has never spent so-called urgent time in the library before. What is there amongst those books that the master doesn't already know?
So, a moment of awkwardness passes between them. Shen Qiao can feel a bead of sweat trickling down his back. Is it from nerves?
"Alright. I'll do as shizun commands. But please let this disciple know if there's any way I can help."
Poor Shiwu. So kind and trustworthy. Shen Qiao showers him with a look of such praise, entirely genuine. It's only natural that Shiwu gleams like a polished coin.
They part from each other. Shen Qiao takes a step towards the library when suddenly—
"Ah!"
"Shizun, what's wrong?" Shiwu hurries to Shen Qiao's side, startled by his cry of apparent pain.
The problem is, it wasn't pain.
Shen Qiao catches himself on a nearby wall and wills his legs to stop shaking. That jolt of heat is still coursing through him. There is something there, in that place...a bundle of unfiltered nerve endings. A tiny spot that brushed against Shen Qiao's underclothes and sent him reeling.
He breaks into a sweat from the pleasure. His body is aroused, he realizes. It was not a slow beckon to a place of interest, like it usually is. Normally Yan Wushi needs to seduce his husband slowly, at a measured pace, without relenting, in order for Shen Qiao to have this visceral of a reaction. Now, though, it happened just like that! As if with a snap of the fingers. From nothing except the errant fabric of his underclothes!
Truly panicked, Shen Qiao light-steps out of reach of his disciple. No explanation given, he zooms to the library and shuts the door behind him.
He's in trouble. This is dangerous. He's never, ever been in a state like this outside of his and Yan Wushi's bedchambers. Prickles of persistent desire creep up and down his legs, making that little mouth twitch again. In an attempt to fight it, Shen Qiao clenches his thighs together as tight as he can. Trying to silence the pleasure. However…
"Unh…" His eyelids tremble. The sensation of pressure in that place is...treacherous. Tricky. It stifles the twitching but it unleashes a slithering, cloying kind of desire that wracks Shen Qiao from the inside out.
His mind is slow. Without effort, he remembers the touch of his own fingers from earlier that morning. What would happen if he touched himself again, just like that…?
Seemingly with a mind of its own, his hand trembles and migrates downwards to that hot place—
"Ah-Qiao?"
Nearly jumping clean out of his skin, Shen Qiao takes several light steps away and presses his back against the wall. Assuming a defensive stance.
But of course, it's just Yan Wushi.
"What's the matter? Are you surprised to see me?"
Yan Wushi is standing there in the Xuandu library, with one hand behind his back. Eyeing Shen Qiao with that look of eminent superiority that has morphed, with time, to a look of unparalleled fondness. His pride has not withered in the slightest, his aura of unquestionable confidence and effortless omnipotence (an affectation Yan Wushi is well-known for) is still very much intact. That aura has become the kindling for the fire that burns in his eyes when he looks at Shen Qiao. An abundance of food for the flame to burn higher and higher. Creating a bonfire.
Shen Qiao burns underneath his gaze. He always does. But today it is…
"That's almost hurtful, Ah-Qiao." Yan Wushi closes the distance between them in a few quick strides. "Why are you always taken aback by your husband's presence?"
Shen Qiao wants to ask how on earth Yan Wushi got inside the library in the first place. This hall is not open to outsiders! Besides there is only one entrance and Shen Qiao just used it. However, there is no point asking such a thing. This is Yan Wushi's way. If there is a place that he wants to be, he will find a way to get there. (Most likely, he snuck in through the window using dark arts to mask his presence. That seems to be his usual modus.)
Schooling his face, Shen Qiao lowers his gaze. "Well. If Yan-zongzhu would kindly use the proper channels to gain access to Xuandu pavilion halls, perhaps this husband would be more welcoming upon your arrival."
Yan Wushi chuckles. He steps into Shen Qiao's personal space automatically, bearing down over him. So close that Shen Qiao can smell him...and, oh, that glorious smell. Fir trees, velour jasmine, and the mysterious darkness of a late summer night. Shen Qiao is so weak to this scent that he can feel his knees beginning to wobble. He wants more than anything in the world to press his face to his husband's chest and let himself be carried away. Away, away. Somewhere only Yan Wushi can take him—
"Don't be like that, Shen-lang." Yan Wushi bends down and kisses Shen Qiao on the nose. "This venerable one comes and goes as he pleases. The Xuandu elders have begun to accept that, I think. Besides…"
He kisses him harder, this time on the forehead. "Where you go I follow."
Breathing a quiet, whispering moan, Shen Qiao puts his hands on Yan Wushi's shoulders. Digging his fingers into the fabric. In truth, he is so glad Yan Wushi is here. His heart is pounding with joy! His body as well. He's willing to accept that he is still struggling with lingering effects from the lotus's aphrodisiac, and it is certainly a powerful one. But that knowledge could not prepare him for the naked hunger between his legs as soon as he feels Yan Wushi's warmth.
Wetness, fluid and smooth as a stream, gathers in that place. Shen Qiao can feel it. He is alarmingly wet and it is getting worse. He can feel slickness rubbing between his thighs, soaking through his underclothes. Dampening his bare skin.
He is aware that this a natural response from a person with sex organs such as this, but the free-flowing nature of it is...surprising. The wetness is unbridled. Out of his control. Such an irrepressible sign of arousal…
"Hm?" Yan Wushi rubs his nose against Shen Qiao's cheek, wringing a gasp out of him. "Your face is flushed. What's going on?"
A shiver runs down the side of Shen Qiao's face and he breaks out in goosebumps. He's throbbing again. Wetness slides down his thighs, hastened by the pulsing of that tenacious hole. He opens his mouth to speak but is overcome by a gasp as Yan Wushi wraps an arm around his waist.
"Did my Ah-Qiao miss me that much? This venerable one has only been gone a few days." He's whispering in his ear, holding Shen Qiao's shivering, electrically sensitive body close.
Too long, Shen Qiao thinks. His husband has been away too long. Not just now. All the days here and there start to add up. They haven't had any time to themselves in weeks. About a month, actually. They tend to play this little game with each other to see who can break down first and initiate lovemaking after being apart (nine out of ten times, Yan Wushi loses happily). But games like that get tiring.
There are times when Shen Qiao just wants to be with his husband. In the creeping dead of night especially. But not only then. Shen Qiao misses Yan Wushi's company. He misses exploring the wide world together side by side. He misses conversing with Yan Wushi about the state of the empire or the martial arts world. He misses the low hum of Yan Wushi's voice, rumbling in Shen Qiao's ears like lazy ocean waves. Comfortable, sweet, and relaxing.
He has missed Yan Wushi greatly. Even before this whole mess with the lotus. Shen Qiao missed him.
Unfortunately…
Shen Qiao gently pushes him away. It takes all of his willpower to do so. Something inside of him begins to cry and Shen Qiao clenches his legs together again to stifle the raw hunger.
"I'm sorry, Yan-zongzhu," he says. "I must be alone right now to search for literary materials on a certain subject."
Undaunted (this would hardly be the first time his advances have been rejected by Shen Qiao and it won't be the last), Yan Wushi raises an eyebrow. "Oh? What subject is that?"
Shen Qiao shakes his head, but he can't fight the fierce blush on his cheeks. "A matter that pertains to an issue I dealt with yesterday. Nothing to concern yourself with."
"An issue?" Yan Wushi narrows his eyes and looks Shen Qiao up and down. Irrationally, Shen Qiao is worried that somehow Yan Wushi can see through his clothes and suddenly knows everything! His gaze is certainly powerful, it makes Shen Qiao feel naked—
But then Yan Wushi quickly follows up with, "Alright then. I'll let Shen-lang attend to his own matters. As for myself, this venerable one is tired from the long journey back to Xuandu. I'll be in our bedchambers."
Technically, the purple pavilion is not open to outsiders. Those are supposed to be Shen Qiao's bedchambers only. However, there have not been any married sect leaders in the recent past. Most Xuandu masters preferred to remain celibate to cultivate their paths without distraction. So, tradition does not have a precedent regarding spouses in the pavilion. You'd have to cite instances from many years ago that are vague at best.
However, no one has challenged Yan Wushi's presence in the purple pavilion so far. Most likely no one will.
With a smile, Yan Wushi departs through the doors. Shen Qiao pants as he watches his husband leave, torn from a maelstrom of mixed emotions. He is relieved, of course, that Yan Wushi let him go. If he had pushed the issue, Shen Qiao is not sure how long he might've lasted. So they narrowly avoided being entirely inappropriate in the Xuandu libraries. Plus, Shen Qiao would still much rather Yan Wushi not discover the incident with the lotus. At first it was about silly pride and intuitive wariness, but now…
Shen Qiao is honestly afraid of what Yan Wushi would do to him if he knew. With good certainty, Yan Wushi would want to explore this new addition to his anatomy. But Shen Qiao can already tell his body is much more sensitive than it normally is.
If Yan Wushi decided to torture him, would Shen Qiao even survive?
That horrifying yet sinfully tempting thought makes more wetness dribble down Shen Qiao's thighs. When he clenches his legs together, he hears an audible squelching sound. How humiliating! Thank goodness no one comes to the libraries. At least Shen Qiao is alone to hear it.
Well. He shouldn't be ashamed, he reminds himself as he begins to search for relevant texts. This is not his fault. It's just his body reacting to a certain kind of poison. He is only human, after all. His body is just as defenseless as the rest. Probably even less so. If he did not have his meditative abilities (and the sacred solarity texts inside his wealth of knowledge), who knows what might have become of him. The needy mess he could have become. He shudders to think.
So Shen Qiao spends the rest of the morning researching. He starts with texts on strange floral wildlife. Botanical journals. Then he migrates to texts about demonic arts, curious if there is an intersection of the two anywhere.
There is not. Predictably, Shen Qiao's search bears no fruit. Not even a scrap or a hint of anything like a magic purple lotus that reverses one's sex organs. It's such a specific thing, it would be hard to miss.
How strange! That there could be a technique like this and Shen Qiao never knew. The martial arts world never ceases to amaze.
His search lasts him well into the afternoon. Intermittently, Shen Qiao needs to swat away errant temptations. His mind is fixated on images of Yan Wushi; his brain cannot forget that tantalizing midnight scent. He remembers Yan Wushi's hand on his hips, a casual touch that burned Shen Qiao's flesh somehow. Random memories of Yan Wushi's expert fingers also pop into his head. Those hands were actually quite close to the burning place on Shen Qiao's body. The place he is struggling with. A quick tug or a swerve of the hips could have plunged Yan Wushi's hand in between—
Shaking his head over and over, Shen Qiao miraculously manages to stifle his desires all day.
By the time he looks up, it is already dinnertime. Shen Qiao's head feels stuffy and weak. He should eat something. It hurts to give up on the search for answers (truthfully he does not know where to turn next for a cure), but he must nourish himself to have the strength to continue.
The aphrodisiac's effects are getting worse. His mind is conjuring strange thoughts. Innocuous things now have an erotic connotation somehow. The slide of noodles between a pair of chopsticks. The slurping of hastily drunk broth. Throughout dinner, Shen Qiao's hands shake. His thighs twitch uselessly against his soaked underclothes. He must look flushed and dazed because several people ask him if he is feeling alright.
Obviously, Shen Qiao is unwell. He should probably go to a doctor in the morning. The villagers seemed passingly familiar with the lotus at least. Enough to avoid it. Maybe there is a local remedy.
Although...Shen Qiao would prefer to go to a female doctor.
After dinner, he excuses himself to the purple pavilion for an early night. Everyone sends their regards, concerned for him. They encourage him to sleep-in the following morning if he's still not well. They all know how hard Shen Qiao pushes himself. But there is no need. His health should come first.
Thanking them sincerely, Shen Qiao shuts and locks the door to his bedchambers.
He forgets that Yan Wushi is already there.
"Ah-Qiao, why did you make me wait so long?"
Feeling defeated, Shen Qiao's shoulders sag. How is he supposed to resist? His desire from this morning has only increased! He is so wet he can actually smell himself, a scent like salty beach water and alkaline musk. He feels disgusting. The only thing he wants is a warm bath!
Ignoring his husband, Shen Qiao marches to the adjacent washroom.
"Ah, does Ah-Qiao want us to scrub ourselves clean first?" Yan Wushi's robe is disturbingly unfastened. Parted around his burgeoning chest, even more than usual. "That's fine. This venerable one has already run a bath for you."
That was...actually very thoughtful. "Thank you," Shen Qiao rushes to say. Then he attempts to shut the door in Yan Wushi's face.
But of course, Yan Wushi holds the door open. As quick as the devil. "Now, now. Don't be shy around this husband. What's the point?" He smirks rapaciously. "What part of you have I not seen already?"
On any normal day that would be true. However, today there is a rather noticeable place on Shen Qiao's body that Yan Wushi is not yet aware of.
"I…" Shen Qiao is not sure what to say to refuse him. Especially because in his heart he does not want to. He would love nothing more than to sit in the bath and soak with Yan Wushi.
It's been a difficult, frustrating day. The best thing on those days is Yan Wushi and his wide open arms. A place where Shen Qiao can vent his frustrations and be at peace.
His body instinctively longs for that.
Smiling, Yan Wushi calmly begins to undress Shen Qiao. He removes his outer robes, carefully hanging them on the bamboo rack with care. He lets down Shen Qiao's hair and gently combs it with his fingers. Now Shen Qiao is wearing nothing but his thin under layers. And the mist in his eyes.
Yan Wushi treats him so well. It's truly remarkable. Shen Qiao never would have thought the man capable of such things, especially not when they first met! Perhaps it's true that Yan Wushi really wasn't capable back then. But people change. Or maybe Yan Wushi was keeping this caring side of himself firmly hidden. In the same place he kept Xie Ling.
Regardless, as they stand there, Shen Qiao is once again in awe of Yan Wushi's care. The way he treats him with such deliberate respect. Proud to do it, the same as he is with everything else.
Shen Qiao loves him deeply. Even now, years into their relationship, the depths of his own love surprises him. He has changed as well. He is now capable of such immense affection that he, the immovable Shen-zhangjiao, often gets carried away.
Kissing him on the cheek, Yan Wushi peels away Shen Qiao's inner robe. Leaving him in just his pants.
"Wait, Yan-lang…" The name slips out. Shen Qiao is overwhelmed. The aphrodisiac is too persistent, and so are his own feelings. "I need to…"
He wants to say that he needs to stop. That it's dangerous if they keep going because Shen Qiao will certainly lose himself to the insanity of all this. He wants to tell Yan Wushi to wait, to let him explain everything first, so that he won't be surprised when he…
Yan Wushi stops undressing him. He cups Shen Qiao's cheek and kisses him softly on the lips. "What is it, my love? Are you ready to tell me what's going on?"
"Nnh…" Words form and quickly die on Shen Qiao's lips. He was going to start from the beginning. Bai Rong and the village and all that. But then Yan Wushi squeezed his hip and stroked the bare skin with his thumb. A touch to his feverish skin makes Shen Qiao's body seize with desire.
Fresh wetness gushes out of him. He grips Yan Wushi's wrist in desperation.
"My beautiful, beautiful Ah-Qiao." Yan Wushi's voice is a rumble in the deepest register. "What has brought you to this state, hm? Without me? I'm starting to get jealous."
Of course Yan Wushi can tell that he is aroused. He alone has seen Shen Qiao like this. Never exactly like this, but...well.
"I...I have…something..." The ancillary details are falling away. The most pressing matter is the wet, throbbing heat between Shen Qiao's legs. It is twitching harder and harder with Yan Wushi's hands so close…
He can't.
Shen Qiao can't fight it anymore. He's been suffering for more than a day and it's too much for him now. The rational, logical choice is nice but it feels so distant when the object of his desire is right in front of him. His husband. The man Shen Qiao knows will take care of him.
He can't explain anything in words. It's too embarrassing, too complicated. So he does the thing he's been fantasizing about doing all day.
He shoves Yan Wushi's hand between his legs.
The moment those gifted fingers touch him, even over clothes, Shen Qiao yelps in pleasure. His legs clamp around Yan Wushi's hand, trapping him there. He can't force Yan Wushi to touch him (there is always the unlikely possibility that Yan Wushi will find this disturbing and want to find a cure instead of indulging), but he also can't bear the thought of Yan Wushi not touching him. He needs that hand there. He needs it!
"Oh….mm." Curiously, Yan Wushi works his hand over the wet mound that has appeared between his husband's legs. He stares at his busy hand, fingering the opening of the lips hidden beneath clothes. Patting. Probing. Testing. Unbothered by the way Shen Qiao gasps and quivers from his touch.
A slow grin spreads across his face. "I see," he says. "How interesting."
"It's not interesting!" Shen Qiao exclaims, bursting at the seams. "It's a curse of some kind, the work of demonic arts! And I...I don't have any idea how to fix it—"
"Don't tell me you touched the purple lotus on the side of the road yesterday. Did you?"
"You…" Shen Qiao can't help being surprised in spite of everything. "You saw it?"
"Of course. Who could ignore something like that?" Yan Wushi's hand is just...resting. Gently holding Shen Qiao's quaking genitals. "I was aware of it, but saw no reason to investigate further."
"The villagers asked for help...mm! Ah!" A lightning bolt of pleasure strikes Shen Qiao as Yan Wushi taps his middle finger against his soaked underclothes. Brushing his wet slit.
Yan Wushi starts to chuckle. Gradually, the chuckle builds into a raucous laugh. "My magnanimous Shen Qiao!" He throws his head back and cackles. "Always tending to the needs of the common folk! Except this time it seems you lost your son in the process."
Humiliation boils Shen Qiao alive. Steam rises from the top of his head. "Stop! Yan Wushi! Don't make light of it—"
"But I think..." Yan Wushi yanks his hand away, ignoring all Shen Qiao's protests. "You might have gained an even more precious treasure this time. Finally getting compensated for all your troubles, it seems."
Confused and desperately aroused, Shen Qiao claws at Yan Wushi's wrist, beseeching him to put his hand back where it was. "W-what...?"
Yan Wushi rubs his fingers together, testing the viscosity of Shen Qiao's wetness that was left behind. His eyes are sparkling. His entire face has come alive. In moments like these, spurred by desires as strong as the heavens, Yan Wushi is neither an angel nor a demon. But he is least of all like a man.
He rounds on Shen Qiao and pushes him against the wall. "Oh, my Ah-Qiao. My sweet thing. My love…" He kisses him hard on the mouth, pushing his leg in between Shen Qiao's thighs. Grinding against him in a way that makes Shen Qiao's eyes roll back in his head.
He needs this too much. He's leaving a trail of slick on Yan Wushi's thigh and he's still wearing his clothes! Below the waist, he has become a trickling fountain.
"You...you know this magic—oh! Oh!" His frazzled mind is still trying to make some sense of this. He should have guessed that Yan Wushi might be familiar with a devilish trick like this!
"Naturally, yes." Radiant with glee, Yan Wushi runs his lips in a path down Shen Qiao's chest and torso. "It's an old trick. Haven't seen it in ages."
Relief washes over Shen Qiao as Yan Wushi gets onto his knees. He can feel another gush of slick escaping him, forming an obscene wet patch on the front of his drawers. He might not even care about his embarrassment anymore, though. Not when Yan Wushi hooks his thumbs under the waistband and starts inching those pants down…
"So if you know about it, then do you...know how...mmm!" Shen Qiao presses the back of his hand to his face as Yan Wushi drops his drawers to the floors, fully exposing him. "Don't—! Don't look at it so closely, Yan-lang!"
It's a pitiful, pointless request. But. A string of wetness clung to those pants as Yan Wushi removed them and Shen Qiao could feel it breaking. He knows he's wet from the mound of his pubic bone to the entrance of his asshole. Fully drenched, hot, and throbbing.
"Of course I'm going to look at you, husband," Yan Wushi growls. His gaze is glued to this new organ of Shen Qiao's. "The sight before my eyes is one of the most incredible I've ever seen. Oh, Shen Qiao. Shen Qiao, Shen Qiao. Look at you…"
He pulls aside Shen Qiao's labia with his thumb. Peeking at the pulsing mess underneath. Shen Qiao gasps as his hot folds are exposed to the cold air, and to Yan Wushi's scrutinizing eyes.
"Look at this lovely shade of pink," Yan Wushi hums. "Like a blushing primrose. And your lips are nice and thick…" He pulls aside the other labia, checking its thickness between his thumb and forefinger. "What a gorgeous pussy you have, husband. Well done."
Shen Qiao feels more naked than he ever has in his life. He can only shake his head and bite his lips to keep from screaming. Yan Wushi's mouth is so close to his...to his cunt! He can feel his husband's warm breath on the slick skin, driving him crazy.
"Ah, I can see you twitching, Ah-Qiao. My, my. Have you been like this all day?" Still testing the goods, Yan Wushi presses his middle finger to that throbbing hole. The tip almost slides right in. Shen Qiao's entrance is contracting so much, trying to pull his finger inside. "Well, that's to be expected. Ordinary people lose their minds with lust after inhaling that powder. You'd find people swarming the brothels begging to be fucked until they passed out, sleep being their only relief. It's quite potent."
He drags his finger up and down Shen Qiao's cunt. Caressing the soft, wet flesh. "It's amazing that you've lasted a whole day. You've impressed me again, Shen-zhangjiao."
Although it's nice to know that he is not the only person in history to be afflicted by this trick, Shen Qiao cannot respond. His jaw hangs open and his hands scrabble for purchase on Yan Wushi's shoulders. Aching, overwhelming pleasure bursts in waves across his body. Yan Wushi's finger feels like heaven against him. Even if there is an embarrassing squelching sound, Shen Qiao cannot hear it. He can only moan lowly and twist his hips to get more of Yan Wushi's touch.
"Husband, you are like a river down here. I am in awe of you." The more Yan Wushi crooks his fingers against those inner lips, the wetter Shen Qiao gets. Yan Wushi's whole hand is soaked. However, he doesn't rub any faster or change his pace at all. He just strokes him gently, over and over.
Then, he presses his palm against the bundle of nerves that's been steadfastly singing with need all day. Shen Qiao's little clit. Yan Wushi rolls his palm over that clit and watches his husband bang his head against the wall. He eats up the sight. Humming contentedly, he rubs two fingers in a small circle, pushing back the hood to expose all of that sensitive pearl—
Screaming deep in his throat, Shen Qiao cums. He cannot remember ever cumming so hard and so fast before. He needs to bite his knuckles to stifle the sound.
Why is there wetness on his cheeks? Is he crying? How...?
Yan Wushi rubs him through his climax, stroking his inner folds to help him ride it out properly. "There, darling. Does that feel any better?"
In tatters, trying to wipe the tears from his face, Shen Qiao shakes his head. It's not better. If anything, his need is even worse now that he's tasted a bite of release. He wants more!
"No, Yan-lang...I...this poor Daoist needs more."
Yan Wushi growls with happiness. It looks like he expected to hear that. He grabs a handful of Shen Qiao's ass and lightly slaps the cheek. Just to appreciate the accompanying jiggle. Then he snakes his hand down to Shen Qiao's thigh and hooks it over his shoulder.
"Well. My poor Daoist doesn't need to worry in the least. I'll be here with you all night. Servicing you. Easing every single one of your needs, no matter how heavy. Alright?" He glances up for permission, tossing his white and black hair over his spare shoulder.
Shen Qiao is overjoyed. "Yes, husband. Please. Help your Ah-Qiao." He strokes Yan Wushi's face in appreciation.
"Oh, I will. Leave everything to me."
With that, Yan Wushi shoves his face against Shen Qiao's pulsing, post-orgasmic cunt. He licks him mercilessly, swiping his tongue in long stripes against the inner folds. He eats him like a meal he's had before and is ecstatic to have again. Yan Wushi licks and sucks Shen Qiao without even an ounce of shame. Wringing deep, mind-melting pleasure out of him.
He pinches the shaft of Shen Qiao's clit, massaging it between his thumb and forefinger as he flicks the bud with his tongue.
Gasping, digging his hands into Yan Wushi's silky hair, Shen Qiao is dragged to another release. He tries to fight it. He tries to hold back so he can float around the mountain's heavenly peak without diving off of it. But he can't. Yan Wushi's tongue won't let him! He yanks Shen Qiao off the edge kicking and screaming, pulling him into the warm waters below. Where sweet satisfaction engulfs him.
As he cums, Shen Qiao feels an odd urge pushing against his other hole. His instinct is to hold it in, and he tries, but Yan Wushi won't stop licking him! Even past that orgasm, into a place where Shen Qiao is overstimulated, Yan Wushi keeps going! There, trembling from head to toe, Shen Qiao has no choice but to let everything go, dragged into another throbbing climax.
He squirts all over Yan Wushi's face. Gushing liquid and arching his back, pushing his cunt against his husband's mouth desperately.
"Mm, delicious." Yan Wushi pulls away and wipes his mouth with a grin. "Ah-Qiao's sweetness is the best I've ever tasted. So pure, like nectar straight from the flower." He licks his lips. "What a treat you've given me."
Still seizing, Shen Qiao flails helplessly against the wall. "Nnnh...nuh...ah, mm...please, ah...please…!"
Yan Wushi grins. Patient and in control. "Still more, baobei?"
Wordlessly, his neck wet with drool, Shen Qiao nods.
"Ah." Yan Wushi chuckles. He rises to his feet and scoops up his husband in one graceful motion. "Say no more. Let us continue."
He carries Shen Qiao into the bedroom (the bath will have to wait) and deposits him on the bed. There, he spreads Shen Qiao's legs wide and devours his pussy again. Slurping, licking, using some of his teeth in a devilish way that he did not do before. Obviously Yan Wushi has even more tricks up his sleeve. The way he sucks and worries Shen Qiao's inner lips, needling his tongue into the gasping entrance.
An itchiness somewhere deep inside suddenly makes Shen Qiao's teeth rattle.
"Yan-lang! Yan-laaang….!" he moans, thrashing underneath Yan Wushi's mouth. "Yan-lang, fuck me please! Fuck your wife!"
That's what he needs. He needs to be fucked! He needs to feel Yan Wushi's manhood in that contracting, aching place! He needs to be filled...he needs it so badly!
Growling, letting some of his own needs be known, Yan Wushi thrusts two fingers inside Shen Qiao's begging cunt. The moment he curls his fingers against the inner workings, Shen Qiao is cumming again. Squirting, again. This time even more than before. He soaks the bedspread beneath them and squeals in a high voice.
"More...n-need...need more!"
It's still not enough.
In this way, Yan Wushi fucks Shen Qiao through the night. He fucks him with his mouth and his fingers. In all different positions. He sticks his fingers in Shen Qiao's asshole and fucks his cunt on his tongue, giving him stimulation from double penetration in a brand new way. He lays on his back and makes Shen Qiao lower himself over his mouth, riding Yan Wushi's face to completion.
Every orgasm he gives him is a journey. Each one different than the last.
Several times throughout the night, Yan Wushi needs to stop and take meditative breaths to calm his qi. He is forcing down his own needs. His erection must be unbearable by now, but he refuses to fuck Shen Qiao on his cock for some reason. No matter how many times Shen Qiao begs. He won't even take it out of his pants.
"Please, Yan-lang, don't...don't tease me anymore…" Shen Qiao rolls on the bed soaked with his slick. "I want it. Give it to me? Please?"
Yan Wushi closes his eyes and centers his energy. His meridians are red hot and flaring, Shen Qiao can tell. He knows him well enough.
But he won't give in. Yan Wushi fucks Shen Qiao on his tongue and fingers all night, wrangling his qi under control at every turn. He doesn't break for even a second.
Eventually, Shen Qiao cums so much he exhausts himself. Still softly begging, he falls asleep.
_____________________
The following morning, they are awoken with a harsh knock on the door.
"Shizun! This disciple is sorry to disturb you, I know you're not feeling well, but...it's an emergency!" Yuwen Song's worried voice shakes Shen Qiao out of his slumber and yanks his self-awareness back from the abyss.
It is a rather rude awakening. Memories of the previous night hang heavily around the pavilion. in the fabric of the sheets and the fragrant air.
Shen Qiao throws on some clothes, leaping for the door. "I'm coming. Give me a moment, your Shizun is coming!"
"Again, Ah-Qiao? Already?" Rousing himself with a chuckle, Yan Wushi ambles into a sitting position. The blankets fall away to reveal his bare chest and Shen Qiao almost loses himself again.
He blushes furiously. Saving his last shreds of dignity by throwing the blankets back over Yan Wushi, he flies out the door.
It turns out to be a legitimate emergency, but not direly serious. Some representatives from Tujue have arrived with complaints about the northern empire's border claims. Fortunately Duan Wenyang is among them. He and Shen Qiao have managed to make peace since that fateful day, arriving at a sort of mutual respect and acknowledgement.
So the day plods along with lengthy discussions of land disputes, Tujue history, and prickly attitudes. Mount Xuandu has taken the initiative to act as a go-between for the Zhou empire and the Tujue clan, but that does not make their task an easy one. Duan Wenyang is more reasonable than Kunye was but he still has a head full of swords and spears. After all, his people are depending on him to maintain their dignity. For years, the Zhou empire has not treated the Tuyuhun region considerately.
It is another difficult day.
To make matters worse, around midday Shen Qiao starts to feel the effects of the aphrodisiac again. He doesn't even realize he's been clenching his legs tightly until he needs to stand. Whereupon he discovers his legs have gone numb. And...
A surge of slick bursts out of him like water from a dam. He had been subconsciously holding back, but now...he can't.
Hands shaking, vision going blurry, Shen Qiao quickly excuses himself back to the purple pavilion. He depends on the Xuandu elders to buy him time, mentioning something about medicine for his fever.
The medicine in question is currently lounging on Shen Qiao's bed like a freeloader. Drinking plum wine and playing weiqi against himself. He hasn't bothered to dress properly and is still naked to the waist.
Shen Qiao slams the door closed. Locking it again.
"Back already? It's only midday." Yan Wushi downs the rest of his wine, taking his time to sit up.
His eyes are gleaming with excitement. "Are you feeling it again, my love?"
The last of Shen Qiao's tenuous self-control snaps. He leaps into Yan Wushi's lap and kisses him all over. Desperate, hungry. Just as eager as he was the night before.
The fire inside of him has not lessened even slightly. It tears through him indiscriminately. Razing all rationality to the ground.
So Yan Wushi takes care of him again. He fingers Shen Qiao's drenched pussy in that position. Shen Qiao in his lap, shakily thrusting his hips against Yan Wushi's immensely powerful fingers.
"Please...do it…!" Shen Qiao wags his hips shamelessly as his face contorts with torment. They both know what he wants but Yan Wushi is making him ask!
"Oh? You want some of this again?" Gathering qi in his hand, Yan Wushi utilizes his famous 'spring water fingering' technique to send gentle pulses of pressure rippling through Shen Qiao's wet folds.
That wasn't what Shen Qiao meant, but nonetheless it feels so damn incredible! He melts into a puddle of pleasure and buries his face against Yan Wushi's neck. When he reaches a shattering climax, he bites down on Yan Wushi's shoulder hard enough to leave a mark for days.
He cums so hard he blacks out for a moment. Lost to a swirling netherworld of momentary bliss.
"Oh, my Ah-Qiao, what a state you're in." Yan Wushi brushes errant hairs away from Shen Qiao's semi-conscious face. Admiring the love of his life, no matter how undignified he looks. "I know you're suffering, but I can't help feeling as though we've been blessed with a bounty."
He whispers in his ear, "And I won't let a good feast go to waste."
__________
They go on like this for several more days. With all the business related to the Tujue dignitaries, Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi barely have a moment to spare to discuss important matters.
Like what on earth they're doing, for example.
But Yan Wushi doesn't seem to care in the least. He is content to loaf around Shen Qiao's bedchambers. He barely emerges to talk with the Tujue people, explaining that he simply cannot be bothered with such mundane affairs (although in actuality he is probably listening to everything, gathering information). Instead, he lays on the bed and meditates for the most part. Waiting for Shen Qiao to barge into their room demanding some relief. Like clockwork.
The other Xuandu elders explain that their sect leader has come down with an illness and needs to frequently retire to his bedchambers to take medicine and realign his meridians. Honestly, it's not that far from the truth. Shen Qiao simply cannot get through a day without Yan Wushi's fingers stroking his needy pussy to completion. At best he'll last a couple of hours. Then the chaotic lust overtakes him and he needs to hunt down Yan Wushi, hiking up his robes and shoving Yan Wushi's hands underneath.
As time goes on, Yan Wushi starts experimenting. Lewdly.
"Ah-Qiao, have you ever touched yourself like this?"
Panting, legs spread wide, waiting for Yan Wushi to touch him, Shen Qiao can only shake his head. Of course he hasn't masturbated! When would he have had the time?
"Well then. No time like the present. Why don't you finger that pretty pussy for me, baobei?"
Against his grain and the stability of his pride, Shen Qiao does it. He follows Yan Wushi's commands and brings himself to climax with his own hesitant, searching fingers. All while his husband watches.
And afterwards, he straightens out his robes to go meet with the dignitaries.
"So beautiful. My Ah-Qiao is the very best in this entire world."
Time and time again, Yan Wushi coaxes him to try something new. Shen Qiao might put up a feeble protest at first, but Yan Wushi always wins. Even more maddening is the fact that he never, ever takes out his cock. Not even when Shen Qiao tries to entice him by touching his obvious erection. Yan Wushi defends with perfectly timed strikes, blocking his husband's wandering hands. They'll pass a few moves between them. Although the state of their martial arts is basically equal, Yan Wushi always manages to outplay him. He stays one step ahead. Keeping his delicious cock out of reach.
With this impunity, Yan Wushi's suggestions get bolder and bolder. He brings out a variety of...playthings and... implements that Shen Qiao has never seen before. At first, a gua sha stone that Yan Wushi uses to massage Shen Qiao's inner folds. Driving him past the point of coherency with soft, rhythmic scraping. Then, a make-up brush to tease his engorged clitoris. Bringing him to orgasm with nothing but the barest, feather-light touches. Eventually, they advance to jade pillars and lacquered balls. Things that plow the depths of Shen Qiao's inner workings and give him such a satisfying climax he thinks he might finally be cured…
But he isn't. In the end, the release is always fleeting. Every single time.
On the last day of the Tujue dignitaries' visit, Yan Wushi finally emerges from the pavilion to send them off. Shen Qiao is pleasantly surprised! He thinks Yan Wushi might have finally earned a stripe of character and will address his so-called 'pawns' in a polite way.
Of course, a split second is all it takes for Shen Qiao to swiftly realize he is wrong.
Yan Wushi is up to nothing but mischief.
While they stand in a line next to the Xuandu elders, Yan Wushi wraps his arm possessively around Shen Qiao's waist. It is surreptitious enough that most people probably don't notice. But Shen Qiao would still prefer not to be so overt about their affectionate relationship. He pries Yan Wushi's hand away...only for that hand to return moments later. This time cupping Shen-zhangjiao's round buttocks.
"Thank you for your attention to this matter," Duan Wenyang says to Shen Qiao. Nodding at him, which is a sign of deep respect in a person like him. "Make sure you relay my message in full to Emperor Xuan."
Shen Qiao is fighting down shivers. Yan Wushi's hand sends heat through him that he is helpless against! Especially now, after days spent cumming over and over on those dexterous fingers…!
"I certainly will," Shen Qiao assures Duan Wenyang. "You let us handle his majesty. In the meantime, could you—ah!"
His words cut short as Yan Wushi takes the opportunity to snake his fingers in between Shen Qiao's legs from the behind. Slowly, as if they are just lounging around the pavilion on a day off, he traces the outline of Shen Qiao's wet cunt.
Duan Wenyang frowns. "What. What could I do, daozhang?"
Shen Qiao calms himself with a quick bolster of qi to his meridians. He clamps his legs and tries to shake Yan Wushi off. But it is to no avail. Yan Wushi has wedged his fingers so firmly in place that the imprint of his fingertips might be visible from the front.
Naturally, Shen Qiao cannot have that. So, he freezes. Heavily panicked and still trying to maintain his conversation somehow.
"I was hoping you'd...erm, keep in mind what we discussed. Any action at this juncture would be imprudent for all parties invol-nnh! I-involved!"
Those fingers tap Shen Qiao's throbbing clit. Gently. Rubbing a light circle around the circumference of that little pearl. Pressing ever so slightly, making stars dance around the edge of Shen Qiao's vision.
How could there ever be any question? Yan Wushi is the devil.
He knows that Shen Qiao has dispensed with his under-robes and pants (too much of a hassle when the need overtakes him). So there is only the silky fabric of his outer-robe between his cunt and Yan Wushi's fingers.
It is torture! Sweet, painfully erotic torture!
"Are you alright?" Duan Wenyang is frowning now. "Has your fever returned?"
"I'm, nnh...afraid so." Shen Qiao reaches behind himself to still Yan Wushi's busy wrist. "I should bid you farewell here and retrieve my mm...medicine."
The stutters in his speech are barely noticeable. But it drives him crazy when Yan Wushi chuckles at the word 'medicine.' Because the Huanyue sect leader knows exactly where Shen Qiao finds his relief.
"I think you'd better. We'll see ourselves out." The look on Duan Wenyang's face is concerned, but not necessarily surprised. He probably still believes Shen Qiao has lingering side effects from when he fell off the mountain (it's easy to think such a thing).
On the whole, Shen Qiao doesn't mind that excuse. He is used to being underestimated. Besides, it's a far better explanation than the truth!
As soon as the Tujue dignitaries' backs are turned, Yan Wushi slides his finger up into the crevice between Shen Qiao's folds. Burying his finger ruthlessly against the flush, wet surface of his vulva.
Shen Qiao has to bow to the Xuandu elders like that. Biting his lip and trembling. His entrance contracts around Yan Wushi's fingers, trying to draw him in even further.
His wetness stains the back of his robes as soon as Yan Wushi removes his hand. In an obvious way
Fortunately, Shen Qiao has the quickest light-step in the jianghu. He grabs Yan Wushi by the collar and zooms across the halls, carrying his husband in tow. He makes it to the nearest semi-private space. Which is the library.
"How could—you fiend! If anyone noticed—!" Shen Qiao flicks Yan Wushi's chest in admonishment. His fingers are bolstered with qi, so it is a hell of a strike. Yan Wushi steps back on one foot to absorb the blow.
However, his smug, cat-like grin doesn't go anywhere.
"Don't blame this venerable one, Ah-Qiao," he purrs, wrapping two hands around Shen Qiao's waist. "How could any sane man resist the touch of your velvet clutch? It's quite unreasonable to hold such lofty expectations."
Taking advantage of their proximity, and the effect it has on Shen Qiao, Yan Wushi hikes up his husband's robes. He gathers the fabric around his stomach, leaving Shen Qiao's bare, wet cunt and perky bottom on display. Whoever walks in would have a very lovely view! (Needless to say, Yan Wushi sealed the doors with qi manipulation as soon as they entered.)
"I am only a man, darling," Yan Wushi takes a long look at what he has uncovered. Visibly salivating. "I cannot do the impossible."
"Yan...Yan-lang…!" Shen Qiao cannot bear to be exposed like this. He cannot! It does things to him that he never saw coming. He is flooding again. Rivulets of slick run down his legs all the way to his knees.
They have discovered so many secret desires during these past few days. Depraved, ludicrous things. Shen Qiao really…
He really needs a break.
But he doesn't complain when Yan Wushi twirls him around, back to chest, and bends him forward. Presenting that supple ass and twitching cunt to himself. On the contrary, Shen Qiao deepens his bend. Lowering his head and shoulders even more.
He wants Yan Wushi so bad he feels legitimately ill. His stomach hurts and he wants to cry. He is tired! He has climaxed enough for a lifetime in the last several days and still his body cannot seem to rest!
"That's it. Good boy. Give your precious treasure to Yan-lang. He knows exactly how to appreciate this gift." In demonstration, he fucks Shen Qiao on two fingers. Toying with his insides mercilessly. Rolling and spearing his fingers. Pulling Shen Qiao's entrance open with a strong tug.
"Oh!" Shen Qiao's eyes nearly pop out of his head. He's never been so open before! Yan Wushi sticks another finger inside, stretching him even more.
Being so full, so perfectly stretched , sends Shen Qiao to heaven. His tongue lolls out of his mouth. He bends so far forward his palms touch the ground.
"Please, please, puh-lease..! Plea..ah! Ah!" His pleas devolve into loose, incoherent noises. Yan Wushi is fucking him hard with help from the forearm strength he has developed rigorously over several decades.
His fingers are long and powerful, but they can only reach so far. If it feels so good with just this, how would it feel to have…?
The thought of being fucked on Yan Wushi's cock in this position makes Shen Qiuao cum hard. He ejaculates standing up.
"Mm, yes, very good. So good, Ah-Qiao. How could anyone ask for a better boy?" Yan Wushi slows his fingers and rubs the small of Shen Qiao's back as he comes down from his peak.
It feels wonderful to be reassured at this moment. Robes rucked up around his chest, covered in his own cum, naked in the library. Shen Qiao thrives off the praise. It arouses him, as well. Knowing that he has pleased someone. Especially his most important person.
However, this predilection is not at all a recent revelation.
"Yan Wushi…" Shen Qiao wipes the spit from his chin and stands on shaky legs. He clings to his husband for support. "Yan Wushi, listen to me. I really can't…"
"Hm?" Yan Wushi gathers him in his arms, smoothing his ruined robes. "What's wrong now? Wasn't that climax satisfying enough?"
Shen Qiao shakes his head. He's exhausted. His chest heaves as he breathes painstakingly. It requires his full strength to remain upright. "No, it's not that. I just…"
Finally, he lets himself go completely. All of his anxieties and fears spill out.
"We cannot go on like this! It's too much! I cannot bear it!" He lays his head on Yan Wushi's chest, longing to be held. "My body has become so strange. Unrecognizable even to me! It's like I'm riding a horse with no reins, galloping forward without any control whatsoever. One more day of this and I'll…"
No need to continue. There is no long term path available if they keep this up. Soon there will be nothing left of the man known as Shen-zhaojing!
What a feckless end.
"I need to find a cure." That's the only viable solution.
There is a moment where Yan Wushi's gaze flicks to the side. As if he's reading something off a scroll. He's deliberating. Shen Qiao has seen that look before on rare occasions when Yan Wushi hasn't fully committed to a plan yet. When he's still weighing his options. Considering all angles.
Eventually, after a few breathless seconds, his face softens into a warm smile. He hugs Shen Qiao tightly and kisses the top of his head. Comforting him.
"Well. Alright."
There's a finality in that tone that sounds suspiciously familiar...
Shen Qiao glances upwards. He takes the measure of the face he married. This, at least, he recognizes. Yan Wushi is slightly reluctant as he cups Shen Qiao's face. But he nods.
"I suppose all games must come to an end eventually."
____________________
Shen Qiao thought Yan Wushi might whisk them away to one of his private mansions. A place where they can research the old books on demonic arts his family kept. Or to the Huanyue libraries, where texts surely exist about techniques such as this.
Instead, Yan Wushi takes Shen Qiao back to their bedchambers.
"The remedy to the purple lotus curse is actually very simple. I could give it to you right now if you want."
It takes a moment of silence for Shen Qiao to calm himself. To breathe away his frustration and anger and remember that, in the end, Yan Wushi will always be exactly what he is.
"You knew how to get rid of the curse all along," Shen Qiao confirms.
Yan Wushi nods. His lips twitch in vague amusement. "Naturally."
Folding himself into a sitting position on the bed, Shen Qiao swallows his hesitation and asks the next thing. "Did you conjure the flower yourself? Was it you who put it there?"
At that, Yan Wushi shakes his head. "No. It wasn't me."
As quick as a flash, Shen Qiao grabs Yan Wushi's chin and forces his husband to look him in the eye. He says only, "Honesty."
"I swear it wasn't me." Yan Wushi raises his hands in innocence. "I don't use cheap parlor tricks like that. They're a hassle to perfect and ultimately a waste of time. What would be the point? I don't care if the villagers in that town have a little brother or a little oyster. Why would I want to get involved in their sexual affairs? There's nothing to be gained."
Of course, Yan Wushi might have all sorts of reasons for the things he does. But Shen Qiao is pinning him with his most serious gaze. The Huanyue sect leader is ultimately powerless against this stare. Looking into this man's eyes, the man Shen Qiao has tethered himself to in life and death, he sees that he is not lying.
He lets Yan Wushi go. "Alright. But do you know who is responsible for making it?"
"I don't know that either. However, I'm honestly not concerned." Yan Wushi shrugs. "It's probably some nobody. A demonic practitioner with no sect who spent their life perfecting the lotus curse, just so they could get one over on the village. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that the village has an outcast who turned bad over the years. My first guess would be that person." He chuffs a derogatory laugh. "But it's a stupid plan. The villagers already knew the effects of the curse. The only person that charlatan ensnared, I believe, was you."
Well. That's...somewhat unfortunate. However, since Shen Qiao's body is stronger than most at such a high level of martial arts proficiency, it is better that he should be the one to bear the side effects.
Even though they have been...challenging.
"Anyway, darling, let's not waste time ruminating on such inconsequential matters." Yan Wushi pushes Shen Qiao back on the bed and kisses him several times, weakening his husband's resolve. "I have a wonderful cure to bestow upon you."
Already lost in a flurry of need, Shen Qiao's pussy clenches tightly around nothing. He can feel Yan Wushi's hard cock pressing against his stomach. "You...you have the cure with you right now?"
That question earns him a low chuckle. "Yes, I do. It's been brewing a while. I think it's quite ready for you."
Licking his bottom lip, Yan Wushi reaches down and squeezes his own genitals. The muscles all over his body ripple in pleasure. The bulge in his hand grows larger before their eyes.
From that obscene display, Shen Qiao now has an idea what the cure is.
How foolish. He should have known. There was obviously some reason why Yan Wushi held back his own pleasure for so long.
This man. What on earth is Shen-zhaojing going to do with this man?
Joy slips out of the lines in his smile. "So, Yan-lang," the daoist calls. "Are you ready to properly make love to your wife?"
He loves Yan Wushi. He always will. Even though he can be infuriatingly rude, stubborn, and devious at times, Shen Qiao loves him from top to bottom. If the cure is something like this, it's just as well. Shen Qiao wants his husband to take him now. He wants to feel proof of the unyielding connection between them in that place no one else is allowed to touch. That's just for the two of them to enjoy. The intimate place between his legs.
No more holding back.
"Yes, my beautiful bride." Yan Wushi flings off his robe and lowers his pants, exposing the stiff manhood Shen Qiao has been fantasizing about. "Let this husband consummate our union. Again."
Laughing softly, Shen Qiao spreads his legs. He beckons Yan Wushi closer, moaning when the man lowers himself into his embrace. They kiss each other deeply. Touching everywhere they can reach. Naked except for the loose robes hanging off their shoulders and elbows. Shen Qiao can feel the heat from Yan Wushi's cock. It hovers near his cunt, making him gush against the bedsheets. He is still so open from the way Yan Wushi fingered him before. His cunt is gasping for the prize just centimeters away!
"Please, husband," Shen Qiao whispers. "My treasure is ready for you…"
"Is it?" As if testing it, Yan Wushi rubs the shaft of his cock against Shen Qiao's twitching vulva. It makes Shen Qiao spasm hard and arch his hips.
"Yes! Yes! Please!" If Yan Wushi denies him anymore, he's just being cruel!
Even though there is a part of Shen Qiao that loves being at his mercy. The man who walks around like everything in the world is under his control. In real life it is irritating, but in the bedroom...Shen Qiao aches for it.
"Oh, you're so wet for me, baobei…" Yan Wushi brushes his nose against Shen Qiao's ear. "Well done. Good job getting yourself totally ready to be fucked. I think I will have you now."
Just like that, he shoves his cock inside. Inch by painstaking inch, he sheathes himself in the hot, fluttering hole that has been waiting for him. He is rather long, so he takes his time going all the way in. But he doesn't stop until he feels the spongy resistance of Shen Qiao's cervix.
Legs haphazardly wrap themselves around Yan Wushi's waist. Shen Qiao wants to scream but no sound will come out. His hole is squeezing Yan Wushi tight, pulsing with intense satisfaction. He wanted this. Oh, heavens, his body wanted this so much.
And he now understands why. The pitiless itch inside of him is finally satiated. It feels so good, Shen Qiao cannot even speak. He just gapes and fists the bedspread for dear life.
"Once my essence passes through your cervix," Yan Wushi explains, rubbing that sensitive part from the outside. "It will all be over. I know you want that, Shen-lang, but...will you grant me one more night of fun? Just one more?"
Without thinking, Shen Qiao nods.
"Good."
Shen Qiao's clit is heavy and throbbing, laying just out of reach of the cock buried inside. Yan Wushi thinks it's beautiful. A pearl glistening in moonlight. So helplessly shy yet needy. It wants to be touched, as usual, and Yan Wushi cannot deny that pearl a single thing.
He reaches in between their bodies and pinches it. Right on cue, Shen Qiao cums with a heavy squirt. Drenching the place where they are connected.
This is all the permission Yan Wushi needs to start fucking his husband in earnest. He bends him this way and that. He goes deep and hard, then soft and quick. He twists Shen Qiao's body in all kinds of ways, altering the angle to give his wife the pleasure he needs. He makes Shen Qiao cum over and over, dredging up every last vestige of pleasure inside him.
It is quite a while before Yan Wushi finally lets himself climax. When he does, he presses Shen Qiao into the bed, nearly folding him in two. His legs are up around Yan Wushi's shoulders. His bottom and most of his lower back are dangling in the air. Yan Wushi's weight is balanced on two flat palms that cage Shen Qiao's head in between. Their faces are so close that not a single expression can pass by unnoticed.
It might be the most intimate they've ever been.
"Ah-Qiao, mmm...you must forgive this husband...I…" Yan Wushi is struggling. He's right on the edge but he's fighting it.
Honestly, it's a hell of a sight.
And there is nothing for Shen Qiao to forgive. He knows Yan Wushi has been purposefully saving himself for this moment. He knows he's in for something intense. He knows that Yan Wushi might feel a little guilty, or even a little self-conscious about the things he's put Shen Qiao through the past few days.
But it's alright. Shen Qiao enjoyed those things too. As ludicrous as they were at times.
They both enjoyed it.
"I love you, Lao Yan," Shen Qiao manages to say. Using his favorite pet name for him. "This husband loves you."
It's Yan Wushi's hot trigger. That's all Shen Qiao needs to say to make him reach a hard climax. Not a trace of restraint left. Throwing his head back and roaring, Yan Wushi empties himself inside of him.
Shen Qiao feels squishy and loose in his innermost reaches. He's hot and his stomach is somehow full. It's an incredible feeling and then—
"Ah!"
He can only manage an overstimulated squeal before he passes out.
____________________
"Overall, how would you rate the experience? I'm very interested to know."
The moon is high in the sky. The stars and their black backdrop have given way to a brighter blue, evidence that the sun will rise soon. It's that special time between late night and early morning.
Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi are sitting together in the garden drinking tea.
"Well, it's impossible to describe in words," Shen Qiao answers.
Now that his favorite son is back where it belongs, he has the luxury of being retrospective about the curse. It is easy to get philosophical or romantic in hindsight, but Shen Qiao genuinely does not feel either inclination.
He instead chooses a special corner of his mind to store the memories exactly as they are. A beautiful lacquered box he can open and shut any time he likes. As needed.
He suspects, though, that he might be opening that box more often than strictly necessary. More often than he'll ever admit.
"Alright, so put a number to it. On a scale from one to a hundred." Yan Wushi is being persistent again, staring at his husband with excited, wolf-like eyes.
"A hundred? Why is the upper limit so high?" Shen Qiao blows on his tea and takes a slow sip. The floral taste is quite refreshing.
"Well, it gives you room for embellishment! Perhaps you might like to add or deduct points for small things. Having a larger scale gives you flexibility in your judgement." Yan Wushi's words are technical and critical, but he's smiling into his tea.
This is not a serious conversation.
Shen Qiao smiles back. "So we're using points now?"
"Points, numbers. What's the difference? I just want to know exactly how my Ah-Qiao felt about this fascinating, possibly once in a lifetime, experience. It's not every day you come across such an expertly crafted purple lotus. We may never find one again."
That's probably for the best, though.
"It was…" Shen Qiao sets his teacup down and glances away. The redness on his cheeks is bright against the pale sky. "...quite nice."
So that's his lackluster assessment.
Yan Wushi seems more than satisfied. His eyes crinkle as his grin widens. "I'll take it."