#and still read his book
So Shang Qinghua, right? He is the Peak Lord of An Ding. He has no peers other than the other Peak Lords, who only ever visit when they need something from him. His students come to him for questions about the quarterly imports of rice and nothing else, Mobei-jun beats him black and blue for no reason Shang Qinghua has been able to determine, and all he wants is a fucking friend.
So one night he takes a pen to paper, imagining a world where he has a companion. Someone who understands him – so they must be a transmigrator, or at least a seer. They must put up with his whining, and know things about his hobby of writing, and you know, this is wish fullfilment in the first place, so why not make them thoroughly Shang Qinghua’s type, cold and dignified.
A little embarrassed, Shang Qinghua imagines a person that could never exist in real life. Someone who would have cared about his writing. Back in his first universe the only people who read his story were the people who were there for the smut alone. Nobody else.
Maybe, he thinks shamefully, they would have even left detailed criticism. A shiver runs down his back, cheeks flushing red. Wouldn’t that have been something.
So he puts down the last words of his dumb little story and promptly passes out from exhaustion.
The next morning he wakes up to the news that Shen Qingqiu had a Qi Deviation.
(I just love the idea of Shen Yuan being another one of Shang Qinghua’s characters. Wouldn’t that be so interesting?)
This would be so cool!
