Chapter Text
Shang Qinghua groans at the knock on the door. He'd just managed to reach that stage of working where time blurs and everything ends up done. Now it would take at least a shichen to get back to that. He heaves himself up with a sigh, swaying lightly. Maybe he should've eaten something before sitting down to work; his stomach certainly seems to think so.
Whoever's waiting for him knocks again, much harsher this time. Definitely not one of his disciples then; they at least marginally understood the amount of work he was under. He yanks the door open, plastering a fake smile on his face. "What can this shixiong do for you, Liu-shidi?"
His shidi doesn't seem to hear him, instead just staring at him with confusion. "Why do you smell of blood?" Liu Qingge demands, eyes roving him with concern.
Shang Qinghua frowns, sniffing at his robes. He doesn't smell anything. "Is shidi sure the smell isn't coming from him? You just came back from a night hunt, right?" He suggests. Liu Qingge shakes his head, scowling.
"Yesterday. The smell only came when you opened the door." He insists.
Shang Qinghua's frown deepens. He glances behind him, wondering if his king might have accidentally left something bloody behind last time he visited, only to be greeted with the sight of his favorite floor cushion stained with blood. "…oh, fuck. Shidi, you'll have to come back later." Without further explanation he closes the door with no small amount of force, adding an extra sound dampening talisman to it as he does.
Damn it, why does his period always come at the worst fucking times?! System, is there any chance he can get an advance warning on these things??
[ No can do user, sorry! Best of luck (*￣▽￣)b ]
Ughhh.
Of course, now that he's aware of what's happening, his cramps are suddenly debilitating. He groans and forces himself to move, grabbing the floor cushion and throwing it onto a stack of laundry that still needs to be dealt with (and definitely won't be anytime soon now). He makes sure to check through everything on the floor nearby, needing to make sure there was nothing else that would need special cleaning. At least the amount of monsters made it so that there were plenty of ways to get blood out of items.
After he was sure everything else was clear of blood, and got past the temptation to just curl up in a fetal position on the floor, Shang Qinghua drags himself to his bedroom, changing into his usual dark-colored and lightweight robes. He spares a moment to mourn the lost chance to add chocolate into this world, time-accurate or not, before grabbing some warming talismans and a backup floor cushion and returning to his work. Stabbing abdominal pain or not, the forms will only ever pile up if he doesn't get to work on them.