Fanfiction: Mo Yuan and Shao Wan - Chapter 47a (Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms 三生三世十里桃花)

Chapter 47a

written by kakashi (with two original inserts by Tang Qi)
edited by Panda

*** Explicit sexual content, NSFW - Beware or be grateful! ****

“What is this?”

“A zither.”

Of course. Shao Wan felt very foolish to have asked, she had certainly heard a zither before - but this one sounded different, and it felt different. Every quivering note sent a shiver down her spine and made her throat tighten. She shuddered. “How horrible!” she exclaimed.

“Mo Yuan is playing,” Zhe Yan said, throwing her one of his looks.

She pulled a face and rolled her eyes. Of course, who else? It always was Mo Yuan, Mo Yuan, Mo Yuan. There was nothing he wasn’t perfect at, the legendary offspring of Father Deity.

Shuǐ Zhǎozé’s school curriculum was split into four different areas: The study of philosophy (in the east corridor); six different types of arts (in the west corridor), including painting, instruments, and etiquette; the study of Kung Fu, including war tactics, archery, and swordplay (in the south corridor); and the study of crafts (in the north corridor). Mo Yuan was the best student in each of the subjects, except maybe practical Kung Fu. Well, she had yet to properly beat him, but she at least made him shed his precious blood often when they sparred.

“He plays exceptionally well, he makes me want to weep,” Dong Hua yawned and settled deeper into his corner, arms crossed, head against one of their school books.

When she had met Father Deity after her arrival at school, he had asked her which curriculum she had the most interest in. Naturally, she had said: “The Kung Fu curriculum is what I have the most interest in.” He had smiled and said: “I heard that you used a stick as a sword and fought a group of males from my Heaven Clan alone. As I see it, in the Kung Fu curriculum you have already surpassed all that I can teach you, you do not need any more practice in that area. You should choose an area that would help you to be more calm.” According to him, when one was calm, one would be able to be a good leader.

“It takes calmness of mind and heart to become a master,” Zhe Yan said and pulled a pretty white jade bottle from his sleeve, “that is why you, Shao Wan, should never touch an instrument. All the strings will snap.”

With one quick move, Shao Wan snatched the bottle from him, uncorked it and downed its fiery content. All of it. “This should make me calm enough!” she exclaimed and stood up, ready to go and challenge the Celestial Bastard. Calm, calm, calm. Everybody wanted her to be calm. But her heart was not made to be calm!

The alcohol was very strong, she felt it rush to her head instantly. When Zhe Yan gave her one of his looks again, Shao Wan realized he had not even tried to get his bottle back in time.

“You are one meddlesome Phoenix!” she said and shook his fist at him.

“Little Sister,” he replied, “have you just drunk the entire bottle of my special brew? I fear this will have bad consequences.”

Dong Hua opened his eyes and blinked. “吃一堑,长一智” (chī yī qiàn, cháng yī zhì - Learn from your mistakes), he said with as much bemusement as a rock could muster.

“Should we alert Fong Hung?” Zhe Yan asked the silver-haired God.

“Give him a break,” said Dong Hua, “she is making him work hard enough as it is. He is probably sleeping somewhere.”

“Should I stop her then?”

“By no means”, Dong Hua answered, “they do seem to enjoy irritating one another so much. Your brother is in one of his moods today, maybe she can shake him out of it.”

Not paying her two friends any further heed, Shao Wan stomped forward. The stomping was a bit unsteady, but she did reach the source of the torturing music quickly, entered to room, and positioned herself right in the middle of it, glowering menacingly at the player.

Who had his eyes closed and chose not to notice her at all.

Usually, Father Deity’s offspring gave off an aura of cold indifference, which made people in awe of him. At this moment, however, there was nothing cold and nothing indifferent about him. The fingers of his right hand plucked the saddest of tunes while his left hand’s vibrating, kneading, skimming, and sliding made the instrument weep with sorrow. What was this loneliness it made her feel? Whom did he play for?

Involuntarily, she backed away to the wall and sat down to listen.

Mo Yuan continued to play, for a long time. He never opened his eyes and he never acknowledged her. When she could no longer bear the weight of emotions, she quietly left and furtively wiped her eyes where she was sure nobody could see her.


During the four weeks Shao Wan had been staying at Kunlun, Mo Yuan had not touched his zither even once. But this evening, when she returned in high spirits and with a pronounced limp from a special - as in very vicious and probably the last - practice round with the Ghost Princess, she found the door to his room slightly ajar and the sound of the Guzheng drifting out. She stopped in her tracks and listened. The soft sound of the zither was clear and melodious, noble and unsullied, refined and elegant, sweet and beautiful. It resonated with the sober calm of Mount Kunlun around her, and it almost seemed like the mountain was purring in response. She heard the sound of the grand waterfalls of Kunlun in Mo Yuan’s music, the wind in the cedar trees, snowflakes dancing in the night and the starlight whispering to the moon.

Very slowly, she put her head through the door to take a look. Mo Yuan’s hair hung down his back and he was already wearing a sleeping gown - the one she liked the most because its color reminded her of her favorite place in the Demon realm, a small glade not far from her palace. The God of Music and War sat facing the window, fully engrossed in his play, staring at the branches of peach blossoms in the vase before him. The last rays of the sun fell on them, making them glow in an eerie crimson light, almost like hellfire. It looked sinister and ominous and Shao Wan suddenly regretted that she had put them there earlier. But when she had walked a bit on the far side of the mountain in the morning, she had happened upon a grove of peach trees in full bloom. They had seemed exceptionally beautiful and without thinking much, she had plucked a few branches to take back to the school.

Now, she was unsure why she had done something so out of character and she remembered with a start who used to arrange peach blossoms for her Shifu here at Kunlun. Was that why he was so captivated by the sight? She felt an impulse to withdraw, but she could not look away. Mo Yuan’s figure was tinged in crimson, a foreboding of the violence to come. His face however was of the utmost calm: Whatever was coming, he was going to stop it, with all he had, however high the price. This was Mo Yuan. A God who bore the weight of the realms on his shoulders because it was expected of him.

Back at school, she had often snuck close to where he practiced his zither to listen, drawn to the sound like a moth to a flame. He had not again made her cry like the first time she had heard him. She knew that it was just her imagination, but to her unschooled ears, it seemed like he changed his tunes whenever she came close, to match her moods and give her soul what it was missing. It was the only times he would not irritate or enrage her.

She had known him for a long time, but in her stubborn way, she had never really wanted to know him. She had always been certain he only felt contempt for her, the uncouth Demon Woman with no prestigious family and no talent for the fine arts. Cold indifference towards everyone around him was what defined him, but whenever she had provoked and prodded him, it had turned into anger. He had never held back even once when they had sparred, putting her into place so many times, making her feel his contempt with every forceful blow.

She felt no contempt from him anymore. Everything about him was so welcoming, so warm…and tonight, when she saw him play again, she felt like herself for the first time since her resurrection, like the person she had been before the Demon War. It was like coming home. Why, then, did she feel so afraid?

Becoming aware of her presence at the door, Mo Yuan stopped playing and turned around to face her. “Shao Wan,” he said, “come here.”

She shook her head, but he extended his hand, beckoning her. Hesitantly, she approached him. He pulled her down into his lap as soon as she was close enough.

“Do you want to play?” he asked her.

“I could never-”

“I will show you,” he said and took her hands in his.

“My heart is not calm enough,” she said, trying to pull away, “I might break your instrument.”

“Mine isn’t calm either,” he whispered, “but the zither is patient. If you put yourself into its hands, it will guide you.”

He put her hands onto the strings with his on top. “Relax your hands,” he said, “and your shoulders. Yes, like this.”

He guided her hands and slow music began to fill the room. His fingers caressed hers and she passed the caress onto the instrument. She was clumsy, but the strings did not snap like Zhe Yan had claimed they would. They soon felt alive to her touch, humming in satisfaction at being stroked, however inexpertly. They started to send their vibrations into her and she felt her heart calm down. She smiled. This was marvellous.

… until her heart panicked and shied away from all the wondrous calm and from being so full and content. It jumped painfully in her chest, making her remember where she was and that she had to put an end to it all. She quickly scrambled up - and winced. Mo Yuan’s eyes shot to her bare feet.

“I will be back shortly, sit down on the bed,” he said sharply and walked out to door.

When Mo Yuan reentered the bedroom moments after, he carried a towel over his shoulder and set a bowl of steaming hot water before her. He kneeled down in front of her.

Shao Wan furrowed her brow. “What is this?”

“You hurt yourself when you sparred earlier. You’re bleeding.”

She shrugged and pulled a face, it was a mere scratch, but he had already grabbed her left foot and put it into the hot water.

“What are you doing?” she complained.

“Let me, Shao Wan.” He started to gently wash and then massage her foot as she stared at his head in disbelief. It was not unpleasant, not at all, but it felt too strange and very intimate. He dried the foot and then healed her scratch with his fingertips. Then, he put the other foot into the basin.

“There is nothing wrong with that one,” she observed.

Still, he treated it just as gently and reverently as the other foot, first washing it and then massaging it thoroughly before carefully drying it. After he was done, he just sat there, cradling both her naked feet in his lap, looking up at her like he wanted to say something but didn’t quite know how to.

Shao Wan felt herself blushing. Quickly turning her face away, she decided she was incredibly sleepy now. She yawned loudly to make her point, mumbling something about “being completely wiped out.” Yes, she would go to sleep now. Without him. But before she could tell him to leave, Mo Yuan carefully positioned her legs and feet onto the bed and climbed in behind her.

“Sleep well, Shao Wan,” he whispered as he hugged her close and extinguished the candles with a flick of his hand.

As soon as she felt his slow breath against her neck, her sleepiness dissipated completely. In fact, her heart hammered in her throat, like she had run to the bottom of Mount Kunlun and up again a few times.

She was scared, no - terrified.

Celestial, what have you done to me? I don’t want to leave. If you ask me to stay, I will, even though I should not. Would you come and live in the mortal realms with me, where nobody knows us and we can be whoever we want?

Her chest hurt because her heart was beating so rapidly. She began to feel dizzy and her breath came in short, fast gasps. She felt for her pulse, suddenly afraid she might be sick, but apart from it being too rapid, nothing seemed to be wrong.

“Are you unwell?” Mo Yuan whispered concerned.

“,” she pressed out.

This had to stop. “Make love to me,” she said, certain this would be the perfect remedy to make her snap out of her strange mood. She turned around to face him. “In fact, I want you to tie me up. I have thought about it for a while and I think I would like that.”

“Are you sure, Shao Wan?” Mo Yuan said, looking deep into her eyes as he leaned forward and moved his lips onto hers. His tongue gently entered her mouth and met hers like an old friend. She opened her mouth, inviting him in, welcoming the familiar, addictive taste of him. His hands moved lightly over her face, her ears, down her throat to her jugular notch and over to her shoulders. Lifting his lips from hers, he started to remove her gown, slowly. His hands were warm and soft as he lightly caressed her skin. She looked at him in the semi-dark of the room and he looked at her, his eyes dark pools of velvet blackness.

“Shao Wan,” he whispered, “I have...I want to-”

He faltered, looking bewildered. She pulled his face down and kissed him again, overcome by a sudden need to get as much of him as she possibly could tonight. She put her hands on the top of his head and stroked his beautiful hair, the back of his neck, his shoulders. He was very tense.

“Take off your gown and lie down on your stomach,” she whispered. He hesitated, but did what she had asked. She straddled him and began to knead the muscles of his neck, his shoulders, his arms, and his back, finding and removing all knots and tensions underneath his scars, warming his skin with her touch. He had his face turned to the side on the pillow with his eyes closed, his breathing was deep, but faster than usual. She slid further down and began to lick his skin, trace her tongue up and down his spine, while her hands turned their attention to the muscles in his buttocks, then his thighs and calves.

He started to move, but she pressed her hands against his shoulders and held him down. When he lay still again, she moved her hands underneath his stomach to greet the tip of his arousal and then moved them up onto his solar plexus chakra. She felt his life force pulsing in her fingers, like a giant heartbeat. She slid up and put her ear between his shoulder blades. The heart in his chest beat rapidly, toc-toc, toc-toc, but underneath it, his life force hummed in a different rhythm. Steady and slow, it churned in him, formless, yet form-giving. It was the universe that produced qi and the qi that produced the universe. The hot qi of yang produced fire. The essence of the fire-qi became the sun. The cold qi of yin produced water. The essence of the water-qi became the moon. The essences produced by the mating of the sun and the moon became the stars and the planets.

Thus, all living creatures bore the universe within them, but nobody harbored it more perfectly than Father Immortal’s son. She knew this now.

I am sorry I have mistaken you for so long, she thought, hugging him very close, burying her face in his hair, inhaling deeply. I regret that we had so little time together.

“Shao Wan”, he whispered, “I-”

He struggled underneath her and she lifted herself off so that he could turn around. It was pitch black in the bedroom now.

“I want to look at you,” she said, “relight the candles.”

He did. His face showed puzzlement and uncertainty. How had she ever thought him cold and indifferent? She traced to contour of his face with her fingers and bent down to kiss his eyebrows, the bridge of his nose, his mouth, his chin, his throat. Gently pressing against his chest until he lay flat on his back, she licked his hard nipples, then his perfectly shaped belly button, and finally traced the fine line of hair underneath it down to where it started. His skin glowed almost golden in the light of the candles, was silken and warm to the touch. She put her hands back onto his solar plexus and started to swirl her tongue around the tip of his manhood, slightly parting the skin at the very top until she tasted the first drops of sweetness oozing out. She moved it into her mouth and sucked more deeply all the while feeling his life force throbbing against her fingers and his heartbeat increase even more.

She moved one hand to his wet shaft to stroke him, cherishing the warm, pulsating firmness and she moved the other hand to his scrotum, gently kneading and cupping the tender flesh. Even without her hands on his life force chakra, she could feel it now, everywhere in him. When he grew even larger and harder in her mouth, she looked up to see his face.

He looked down at her, lips slightly parted, an expression of admiration and wonderment in his eyes. It is me he is looking at like that, Shao Wan thought, when did everything change? Her heart sped up to match his, faster and faster. It was hard to hold his gaze, but she couldn’t look away either. He kept his eyes open and glued to hers even when he came, his whole body shuddering when he filled her mouth with his essence. She swallowed it all down, savoring the salty-sweetness like a special treat, licking and sucking until there was nothing left. And still, they locked eyes.

He moved, his long hair falling forward. He gripped her shoulders and gently but firmly turned her onto her back. Then, with one swift move, he pulled and pinned her arms above her head. She gasped. You still want this? his expression asked and she nodded, reluctant at first, then more eagerly. He conjured a soft rope and bound her wrists together, not too tightly, but so that she could no longer move them and tied them to the wooden bed frame.

Mo Yuan put his lips on her body then, starting with her face, moving steadily down. He kissed, sucked and lightly bit her, not leaving out an inch. He paid special attention to her feet, swirling his tongue in between her toes as he sucked them, her hips, nibbling at the bone, and her belly button, showering it with soft kisses. Her breasts came after everything else, as if he had saved the best for last. He sucked, bit and pinched them until the pleasure started to intermingle with a type of pain that was pure pleasure itself. She felt the first orgasms deep in her belly, gentle ones, shallow lazy waves. He gently pulled her legs apart and stopped, simply looking at her. Completely exposed under his gaze, her orgasms increased.

He looked at her squirming on the bed, the look of admiration and wonderment slowly changing into something primeval and predatory, making her feel a tinge of fear. But he gently moved his hands up her legs and used his thumbs to pull her open even more, fold by fold, massaging every part of her wet, vulnerable core with slow, firm strokes. Still teasing her entrance with his fingers, he bent down and put his lips on her bud, gently sucking, moving his tongue over it slowly, then rapidly flicking it, then slowly sucking again. She had gotten very good at controlling her powers by now, but when he pushed two fingers in suddenly and deeply, she climaxed hard, whimpering under the unexpected assault of her surging powers. Not in the least deterred, he found the most sensitive spot inside of her with ease, stroking it firmly, prolonging and intensifying her climax.

She was not sure she could maintain control. Everything was different tonight. Heavens help me, she thought, I’m going to burn his holy mountain after all, on our last night together.

But burning his mountain would mean burning him and she could not let that happen. She held on with all her might, even when he did not stop licking and biting and teasing, lapping up her juices like a thirsty man in the desert, even when the strain and pain from trying to control what was almost uncontrollable threatened to overwhelm her. Withdrawing his fingers all of a sudden, he flipped her over in one swift move and pulled her hips towards him, making her kneel on the bed, face down, hands still tied firmly above her head. He positioned the tip of his arousal at her entrance and pushed in, deeply, taking a long, shuddering breath. His hands cupped her breasts and he used his thumbs to tweak and pinch her nipples as he moved in and out of her with forceful, deep strokes.

She thought she would explode any moment, scatter into a million burning particles. Was he not afraid at all? Did he trust her abilities that much?

Stop, she wanted to say, it is too much! I cannot hold on! But she was bereft of words, she could only moan helplessly, dreading the worst.

He must have felt her fear.

He pulled out of her, snapped her bond and embraced her from behind, wrapping his arms around her body. Pressing her tightly against him, he nuzzled her neck with his mouth and nose and rocked her gently in his lap until the fierce tremors in her body stopped and she felt in control again.

“I am sorry,” he whispered, “please forgive me. You make me-” his voice trailed off.

Lose control, she finished his sentence in her head. Control is the one thing that defines you more than anything else, the one thing you cannot afford to lose right now. You know this, Celestial. And I know it too. We need to stop.

Chapter 47b