History

On the history of Shang Qinghua.
In typical fashion, Shang Qinghua originated as Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky. He doesn't remember his original name anymore; he was an introvert, going by either his penname or just his tags, maintaining friendships online almost exclusively. It's been almost 40 years since he used it, so in the time it's just slipped away. His body was originally called Tiānshàng.
He transmigrated into a well off family, and was treated as a first son to inherit his families name for the first 14 years of his life, until he failed to join Cang Qiong Mountains heavenly peaks twice. A bit old, but his expertise as a merchant, and vaguely adept core, dropped him on An Ding's doorsteps, to inherit a name for himself.

Shang Qinghua met Mobei Jun at the age of 17, with barely a name to himself, and a life of struggle, insult, and out of hand dismissal under his belt. His preferred lifestyle.
Had he been a more honest character, he would have said endlessly "One should always underpromise, overproduce, and tell others you met the margin by the skin of your teeth."
Perfectly capable, with somewhat hazy memories of plotlines, and the future, Shang Qinghua lazed away his youth, breaking his back and refusing to beg for a mouth full of spit from his shixiongs.
Debasing himself was for greater men than these.
Enter Mobei Jun, forcing him out of his life of leisurely abuse and faux idiocy. Unfortunately, such a life leaves him with a less than substantial core, losing him much opportunity to become a formidable leader one day. He, of course, had no intention of becoming that. The disreputable, cunning, and capable head of An Ding was plenty for him. Gaining merits had never been in his plans in the first place. His position was always meant to be that of a lowly servant to his king, and hopefully to not die pitifully by his hand.

Meeting Shen Qingqiu as a fellow transmigrator proved to be an annoying, but surmountable, block in the road to both his king not murdering him for a sudden yet very expected betrayal, and his own system shutting him out of his account. Though not by much.
He would spend the next six years tending to Peerless Cucumber's needs, as well as An Ding and The Northern Kingdom. His biggest break was a brief death, where he mostly got to let others take up the mantle of keeping the shed Peerless Cucumber called home clean and ready for his return.
He didn't expect to miss him as much as he did.
Rarely would a conversation go by where he wasn't roundly insulted, whether for fighting for his life in this life or the past, his eternal anti-fan maintained his stance. He thought he'd be glad to see the loss, but Shang Qinghua managed to join the entourage of mourning suitors in the semideath the two had planned for him together. Knowing he would be back never softened the blow of opening the door to his friends abode to find nothing but dust and long disused candles. Left with nothing but his duty, Shang Qinghua would wait dutifully. If Shen Qingqiu would manage to escape Luo Binghe's obsession, he would often dream of joining him in that escape. Of not being under constant threat, of baring the abuse of a brother who understood his burden, and who appreciated his efforts for what they were in whatever way their thin face could weather.
He knew, evitably, that this was not to be.
He could never abandon his king.
But it was a kind dream, that he would be free of the burden of a false life, under narrative foils he had long lost the fathers love for.

In the revival, and quick reuniting of Shen Qingqiu and Luo Binghe, The moral dillema of maybe escaping his fate was taken care of for him. The two were, typical for his son, in love. Or, Shen Qingqiu was at least willing to stay by Luo Binghe's side, lest his unfilial son rip the heavens and the hells apart to prove his love. Either way!
Shang Qinghua was here, and was here to stay.
Until his king called for his aid.
And his king ascended, attacked in this delicate moment by his own uncle.
Shang Qinghua bore many burdens in this moment. He bore his bones breaking under a demonic fist, intent on if nothing else stealing a faithful servant from his nephew. He bore heartbreak, as his king believed his birds song when he promised his uncle he would betray him. He bore the flames of hell, as he left the safety he created (of course he would not betray his favored son) for them so Mobei Jun's uncle would not breach them himself. He bore many beatings, and in the end he yelled at Mobei Jun, and pinched his cheeks.
Like any coward, Shang Qinghua ran.
And Shang Qinghua suffered.
A miserable life, he had to spit. how could the heavens treat this faithful servant like trash at every turn? Had he not proven his love and dedication?
He had.
Mobei Jun's Uncle found him.
And then, Mobei Jun found him, and saved him.
And took him home.

In the aftermath of everything, he and Mobei Jun found a truce. He didn't recieve three gentle beatings a day, and instead received merits. More and more, bidden out of his safe hole in An Ding by the promise of treats, Shang Qinghua would join the Northern Deserts, to aid his Mobei Jun in his kingdom. More and more they grew, and more and more he trusted. Until, more and more he loved. More and more he yearned, he opened himself and saw his king as man instead of character, and he reveled in the humanity found in a demon.
That was found, shockingly, mutual.
And Shang Qinghua, as cowards are like to do, tucked his head down and pretended not to notice his affections being returned. Pretended not to wonder how long they were, and pretended he didn't burn with them. The only solution, he saw, was to hook his king up with someone else, and let THEM deal with his tempermental brat. He had seen the affections of a demon, and he was a coward. He had never intended to take a beating, and had never intended to be trapped in a mans bedroom for the simple crime of looking at someone else.
Isn't that too scary!
Luo Binghe threatened to rip the heavens out of their place and turn the earth to ash to take every prying eye off his Shen Qingqiu!!
Shang Qinghua, a coward, would not give his king that chance. He would sit, faithfully, quietly, at his side and he would never turn his eye to another. He would do his duty, and would neglect the affections presented, and he would swear roundly in his heart when he was overworked and mistreated. He was the head of An Ding Peak. A shizun and a reprobate, raising a large litter of cut throat losers who nobody within their right mind would give a kind word to, lest they find their pockets emptied and their back stabbed. He sits now, by his kings side, warm and fat on love, and tends to every duty his is given with his whole hand. He promises he cannot do his tasks, and that they demand too much of him, and he whines to no end of their unnecessary nature, and without fail he will complete each and every one of them with time to attend dinner with his king.