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#although I do like that he was at the nie sect earlier and close to NHS
gusu-emilu · 2 years
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I love CQL but the disservices done to JGY’s character make me a bit frustrated. At least we got Zhu Zanjin who is simply unparalleled
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
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Spilled Pearls
- Chapter 12 - ao3 -
The dinner lasted until late, late enough that Lan Qiren had to make his excuses and even then only just barely got back to his room in time to fall asleep at the appropriate hour; he didn’t even have enough time to do more than remove his shoes and outer layer before his eyes had closed.
Surprisingly, unlike most social dinners in Lan Qiren’s memory, it hadn’t been awful. Most of that had been thanks to Lao Nie, whose exuberance, as he’d suspected, could carry just about any social interaction to victory. After exhausting himself in thinking of ever more increasingly ridiculous toasts and forcing Wen Ruohan to drink them – they’d switched to wine at some point, although to Lan Qiren’s relief neither offered him any – Lao Nie had turned the subject to the type of music appropriate to be played at a wedding feast, and his opinions on music were, as always, so horrifically wrong that even Lan Qiren had been lured into arguing with him.
At some point, the conversation had shifted to the subject of marriage and weddings more generally, though to Lan Qiren’s relief both men clearly considered him too young to have thoughts about his own future in that regard the way his teachers might have. Instead, they’d spoken about the origins of various wedding traditions – there were some that Lan Qiren had thought were set in stone and handed down from ancient times which Wen Ruohan could recall having seen invented within his lifetime, which was a fascinating advantage of age that Lan Qiren had not previously considered.
It was equally interesting to see Wen Ruohan at his most charming. It was not a mask that the sect leader bothered putting on very often, as far as Lan Qiren knew, and it was a mask, one that was a little loose around the edges – even Lan Qiren could tell. Wen Ruohan would say the right words a beat too late, with his eyes a little too focused and his smile a little too sharp to be believed; his quips were a little too cutting and his suggestions just a little beyond the boundaries of common decency, his cruelty and indifference leaking out around the edges of even a casual chat with people he considered friends.
But at the same time, it was difficult to deny that he was brilliant. Regardless of whether he’d obtained his superior cultivation through dark and dirty means or not, he’d been the master of his sect and about a third of the cultivation world for at least a generation already, and no one managed that without being extremely clever and more than a little ruthless.
It made for interesting conversation, if one beset with a constant feeling of danger…
“I hope you enjoyed the bed.”
Lan Qiren nearly jumped out of his skin in fright, spinning around to stare at Wen Ruohan standing just within the doorway to Lan Qiren's room – he hadn’t heard him open the door, nor close it behind him. The other man was in his wedding finery, the brilliant fiery red of his sect turned to joyous purpose, and yet there was something sinister in his self-assured smile.
“The – bed?” Lan Qiren repeated blankly, and glanced at it. “It was…fine?”
“You complained, last time,” Wen Ruohan said, continuing to stroll into the room with his hands clasped behind his back. “Too hard, I believe you said…I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
Lan Qiren vaguely recalled having said something along those lines and blushed in shame. “It’s fine,” he said. “I slept deeply and well. Thank you for your concern.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Wen Ruohan said. “You and I are brothers, are we not? My every thought should be of you.”
That didn’t sound quite right.
Before he could say anything, though, Wen Ruohan clicked his tongue lightly and stood in front of him, looking him up and down. “Your Lan sect’s formal clothing is truly a masterpiece of the embroidered arts,” he said. “A brilliant sight – especially all in white.”
Lan Qiren lowered his head, embarrassed again. If pressed, he would argue that his clothing was a little more silver than pure white, so he wasn’t actually dressed in mourning colors, but it couldn’t be denied that he was much closer than most, making it a little inappropriate for a wedding. Unfortunately, he only owned the one set of formal clothes, and there hadn’t been time to commission another; there was nothing for it.
“I like it,” Wen Ruohan said unexpectedly, his hands settling on Lan Qiren’s shoulders, smoothing out the fabric. Lan Qiren looked up and was caught by that intense red gaze. “My sect colors are red and white, after all – just like the two of us. A matched set.”
His hands burned too hot on Lan Qiren’s shoulders.
“White is a traditional color for the Lan sect as well,” Lan Qiren said, and his voice only quavered a little bit. “Anyway, it’s…mostly grey.”
“White,” Wen Ruohan disagreed. “As pristine as a pearl resting in the palm of your hand.”
His thumbs pressed lightly just by Lan Qiren’s collarbone. There were acupoints there, he thought, although he was having trouble recalling which ones or what they did.
“Yes, a pearl is truly the most apt comparison,” Wen Ruohan mused. “Simple and natural, yet shining with its own luster – I’d thought rubies, to make you fit to my taste, but perhaps pearls will suit you better.”
“I have no need for jewels,” Lan Qiren said, a little alarmed. Had Wen Ruohan really drunk so much the night before that he was still intoxicated, confusing his new sworn brother and his new bride?
“And yet I may wish to give them to you,” Wen Ruohan said. “Surely you won’t deny me – after all, I need to repay you for the charming gift you gave to me.”
Lan Qiren had a sinking feeling.
“Uh,” he said. “You saw it? Already?”
He’d searched the room briefly earlier that morning for the personal gift he’d bought for Wen Ruohan, intending on packaging the bowls away in his return clothing – why hadn’t it occurred to him to simply give it away to one of his fellow disciples, or even to trade or sell it? That way he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself by giving such a simple gift amidst all the opulent luxury of the Nightless City.
It seemed, however, that it was too late for that.
“Oh yes,” Wen Ruohan said, looking amused. “A set of drinking bowls, painted with a flowing border reminiscent of vermilion birds – made by your own hand?”
“I only applied the glaze,” Lan Qiren said hastily. “There was another gift, too –”
“I have dozens of golden crowns of better make and greater utility,” Wen Ruohan said dismissively. “Such a heavy thing. If you told me that you’d picked it yourself, I wouldn’t believe you.”
“No, I did pick –”
“Without constraint? Or from a selection of predetermined choices, each one deemed ‘appropriate’?”
Lan Qiren fell silent.
“Do not tell lies,” Wen Ruohan said, rolling the familiar rule in his mouth as if tasting a wine of fine vintage. “Yes, the guan is a very appropriate gift, neither too distant nor too familiar, too rich or too restrained, perfectly reasonable yet conveying nothing, giving nothing away...I’m quite certain your brother picked it out. But you were the one who picked the bowls, weren’t you? Did you pay for them yourself?”
Lan Qiren felt certain that the conversation was leading to some sort of trap, but he didn’t know what, or how, or how to evade it. “I did,” he admitted. “With my sect allowance.”
“How many months’ worth did it cost you?”
Lan Qiren thought back, calculating. “About three?”
He’d thought to get something nice enough that he wouldn’t lose face in giving it, though naturally he’d underestimated the luxury of the Nightless City. Still, it wasn’t as though he needed the money for much, anyway. The sect supplied him with basic clothing and gear, equipment to tend to his sword and musical instruments, and even access to books; he did not buy himself too many luxuries beyond that. Other than the fees he paid for various sect purposes, it was really only the occasional trinket that caught his eye or rare books on foreign musical techniques that he purchased with his own money.
It wasn’t anything like a sacrifice, not really, but Wen Ruohan still looked pleased about it, smug and satisfied as a cat right after the hunt.
“Three months’ worth,” he murmured, and his hands which were somehow still on Lan Qiren’s shoulders slid inexorably inwards to rest on the sides of his throat. “Even assuming you were extraordinarily parsimonious, little Lan, you could only save a third at a time; that’s nine months of your life that you spent for me. Nearly a twentieth of all the months you’ve lived so far.”
What a strange way to calculate time.
It wasn’t even right, since Lan Qiren had turned seventeen in the interval and that made the interval closer to a twenty-fifth than a twentieth, but also – who thought like that, treating time like a percentage, as if it could be measured and spent like coin? Perhaps it was simply that Wen Ruohan was so old already…and perhaps that, in turn, was why he looked at him so strangely, so unnervingly –
Lan Qiren swallowed, decided he didn’t need his pride more than he needed to get away, and ducked out of Wen Ruohan’s loose grip.
“Shouldn’t you be getting ready or something?” he asked, turning and pretending to fuss with his robes to avoid making eye contact. “It’s the morning of your wedding.”
“Indeed it is,” Wen Ruohan said from behind him. He was standing too close: Lan Qiren could feel his breath on the back of his head. “Tell me, little Lan – little brother. What do you think of my marriage?”
Lan Qiren hesitated.
“The truth, if you will,” Wen Ruohan added. “I would hate for the purity of our relationship to be tainted by misdirection, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to lie.”
His voice was mild and even, almost sweet, and Lan Qiren was abruptly convinced that it was far more threatening than any of Lao Nie’s rages or his brother’s ice-cold sarcasms.
“I think you made it up to distract people from swearing brotherhood with me,” he said, turning back to face his fears and sworn brother, and felt his face go red as he realized how self-involved that made him sound. But it was what he thought, and Wen Ruohan had asked him not to lie. “You made a mistake, underestimated people’s reactions, and Lao Nie yelled at you because it was affecting your reputation and mine, so you came up with a better story and made everyone else believe it.”
Wen Ruohan hummed. “What an interesting theory. You don’t think the engagement was merely kept private before being revealed at an appropriate time?”
“No.” Lan Qiren shrugged. “If I’m wrong, of course, I’m wrong. But you asked what I thought.”
“Is that why you got me a gift?” Lan Qiren, surprised, glanced at Wen Ruohan, who was still smiling. “To thank me for clearing up the mess I made of your reputation?”
“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re getting married,” Lan Qiren said, bemused. “What does my reputation have to do with anything? You’re not the one making everyone gossip, and even if you were, you cleaning up something you did is only what you should do. I don’t see what one has to do with the other.”
This time, Wen Ruohan gave a little huff of amusement, and he sounded almost surprised. “Charmingly blunt.”
“You told me not to lie or misdirect!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, feeling betrayed.
Now Wen Ruohan was chuckling in earnest. “Ah, little Lan,” he said. “Someone is going to get you into trouble one day, and it may very well be me…you’re right, you know.”
“What?”
“About the wedding,” he said lazily, and put a hand on top of Lan Qiren’s head. “Both in terms of motivation and timing. You’re entirely right, except for one part.”
“What part?”
His fingers tightened, the too-sharp nails digging into Lan Qiren’s scalp and pulling at his hair until his head was forced back to look up at Wen Ruohan.
“I didn’t make a mistake,” Wen Ruohan said. His eyes were boring into Lan Qiren’s own, the pressure of his will strong, as insistent as his voice. “You were not a mistake, little Lan. You’re mine.”
“Of course I am,” Lan Qiren said, suddenly irritated for no reason he could tell. “Your sworn brother. Doesn’t the whole world know it by now?”
“Mm. I suppose they do.”
“And on that note,” Lan Qiren said, “what are the terms, anyway? I never got to see them.”
“The – terms?”
“Of our brotherhood! My brother confiscated the paper you gave me before I could look it over, and naturally I don’t remember, so you have to give me another copy. I think I’m entitled to one, since I’m a part of it, and presumably you did the drafting. Was it one of the classical oaths? Which clauses were included? Provisions? Curses? Was there any consideration of – stop laughing!”
Wen Ruohan had released Lan Qiren’s hair in order to brace himself on the wall, he was laughing so hard. Laughing with big laughs that came up from his belly and stuck in his throat, and no matter what Lan Qiren said he didn’t say one single thing in response. Lan Qiren eventually gave up with a huff and stormed out.
Let the irritating bastard be late to his own wedding, for all he cared.
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songofclarity · 3 years
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what do you think of the idea of Wen Yuan being Wen Xu’s son/ Wen Ruohan’s grandson ? it’s one of my fave headcanons since Wen Ning didn’t say which older cousin is Sizhui’s father.
I absolutely love Wen Yuan being either Wen RuoHan's son or grandson, Anon! It's a canon compliant headcanon or at least a heavily insinuated canon that Wen Yuan comes from his family branch.
Wen Ning says, "Y-You really l-look like a distant relative of mine..." to Lan SiZhui as they are traveling to Lotus Pier (ch. 83, ERS).
And earlier we are told that "[Wen Qing] wasn't a daughter of the Qishan Wen Sect's leader, Wen RuoHan, but instead the daughter of one of Wen RuoHan's cousins. Although they were far cousins, Wen RuoHan had always had a close relationship to this cousin of his." (ch. 60)
Plus a general: "Every day when [Wei WuXian] was free, he played with the toddler Wen Yuan, son of Wen Qing's cousin." (ch. 74)
I highly doubt the specification of distant relative/far cousin was used by accident or just a hand-wave since it's not used for any of the other Wen relatives. We have no idea how Uncle Four or Granny Wen are related to anyone else, for instance. I do headcanon Granny Wen being closer to Wen RuoHan's branch than to Wen Qing's since she is already Wen Yuan's guardian and caretaker when we first meet her. Imagine Granny Wen fleeing Nightless City with Wen Yuan after Wen RuoHan's death only for them to end up falling into the hands of the enemy anyway!? My heart! 💔
I will confess that, depending on what flavor I'm in the mood for, I headcanon Wen Yuan as either Wen Chao, Wen RuoHan, or Wen Xu's son lol
Wen Yuan is a toddler when Wei WuXian first meets him, making him around 2 - 3 years old. The Sunshot Campaign lasted three years, which means Wen Yuan was born either right at the start of the Campaign or a full year later.
Anon may have excluded him on purpose since he's the least popular choice, but I will say that I kind of prioritize Wen Chao as being Wen Yuan's father since we are explicitly told that Wen Chao has a wife. While it's described that him picking a new lover every six months is his routine, that he goes from honeymoon phase to being tired of them during that time is just his norm, I like to consider that him picking his wife's servant this time around wasn't merely out of natural rotation of lovers.
If his wife were pregnant, it's not illogical that a young man under twenty would go for the pretty woman batting her eyelashes at him while she holds back his wife's hair during another bout of morning sickness. Morning sickness traditionally lasts the first trimester, so the specification that Wang LingJiao will be dropped after six months matches well with the projected due-date. Wen Chao sending Wang LingJiao ahead of him to Lotus Pier could easily be because he was taking care of business (and a heavily pregnant wife) at home before he dashed out the door again.
That Wei WuXian then gives up everything to repay his debt to the Wen while at the same time protects and entertains the son of Wen Chao, who turned Wei WuXian's life to hell in the first place, is delightful to me lol
The second person I headcanon as being Wen Yuan's father is actually Wen RuoHan! This is my favorite option and warms my heart ♡ although at the same time it makes me very sad.
MDZS focuses a lot on characters losing siblings and parents and friends, but barely touches upon losing a child. Madam Jin and Jin GuangShan are described as having wasted away before they finally died over the loss of Jin ZiXuan, but we all know Jin GuangYao was done humoring them by then and their deaths were likely caused by poisoning (Jin GuangShan was weakened before his grand finale send-off and Madam Jin's cultivation was strong enough to maintain her in her youth and thus inedia should have preserved her longer even while depressed. These two did not die of grief.)
So Wen RuoHan gives us room to explore the grief of losing a child and having to restart a family, whether it's for the sake of protecting Clan lineage or for his own need to have a family. This also paints a rather intriguing picture of Wen RuoHan's position within his sect that he was comfortable and supported enough to have a child after such a great loss (Wen Chao and Wen Xu's bodies were vandalized and then never returned to him) and in the middle of a war (baby booms happen after wartime).
We're never told if Wen RuoHan's policy to attack the Sunshot Campaign changes after Wen Chao and Wen Xu die. It's both sweet and sad to imagine him playing with and caring for his little son while the Sunshot Campaign knocks on his door.
(Wen RuoHan should not be blamed for centuries of Wen Sect policies. Upholding family tradition is as true for him as it is for Nie MingJue and Jiang Cheng. He is never shown to have conspired to take over anything, much less the world. Let him have a family to love!)
There is also the question of who is Wen Yuan's mother in this case. Same mother as Wen Xu and Wen Chao? Another wife? A lover? The Qishan Wen Sect is not short of people wanting to cozy up to Sect Leader Wen, as we have seen. Wen Chao reveals to us that there is some fear of assassination, but Wen RuoHan seems rather negligent of that threat. Although the other sects might hate them, the inner-workings of the Qishan Wen appears to be a safe and supportive one. Wen Yuan was born from at least an agreeable union, but ideally a happy one~
Although you mention him first, Anon, Wen Xu is the last of the three that come to mind when I think of Wen Yuan's father! Which is amusing because I also know Wen Xu is considered the popular fandom choice whenever I see this topic come up. As I mentioned in another post, there is something poetic in the circular way Wen Xu destroys Cloud Recesses and tells the Lans that the Wen will help them rise from the ashes followed by Wen Yuan raised from ashes of the Wen Sect to find new life in the rebuilt Cloud Recesses.
But whether Wen RuoHan was his father or his grandfather who took the role of father after Wen Chao/Wen Xu died, he would have been the first and only father Wen Yuan truly knew. Wen RuoHan looks like he's in his twenties, so calling him father rather than grandfather wouldn't be unexpected for a child to do, either.
Which brings new insight into this moment when Wei WuXian brings Wen Yuan out to play with him in Yiling. Wen Yuan calls Wei WuXian brother (Brother Xian), so he's definitely not calling out for him in this scene...
When children were scared, they always called out to those they were close to. And so, sobbing, [Wen Yuan] called, "Dad! Dad..." (ch. 74, ERS)
Crying out for Wen RuoHan!? My heart! 💔
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xiyao-feels · 3 years
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☕ possibly unpopular opinion, but I don't think lxc survives his seclusion. I think his world view is too badly shattered and he either wastes away slowly or outright kills himself.
I like—one-quarter agree with this, I think?
On the one hand, as I've said before, I do think CQL LXC kills himself. The man is just... really completely broken. And also just tried to die with JGY. I mean, I don't even think he goes into seclusion first, necessarily.
On the other hand, while MDZS LXC is also very much broken, I don't think he does die; even aside from anything else, JGY is still sealed in the coffin, and dying would be leaving him behind in a way it wouldn't in CQL—so in MDZS I don't think he does.
The part where I totally disagree with you is—I don't think it's about his worldview. It's about JGY being dead. I—think people very much want it to be about something other than that (including his grief for JGY /and NMJ/, which, still no) , and I am as ever prepared to look at a textual argument in favour if someone wants to assemble one, but honestly I think the text is pretty clear here. Throughout the temple, he's reacting and processing pretty normally—to borrow from my own previous work, here's an overview of some of his reactions to things and people other than JGY:
Obviously we see [LXC] react when he’s telling LWJ about WWX’s feelings, but even beyond that, even when he’s occupying a more background role in the narrative, we’re given his reaction quite a few times. He sighs when LWJ seals his spiritual powers (ch 100); he tends to NHS, covering with his outer robe (ch 102), comforting him when he’s disturbed at the sight of the coffin (ch 103), protecting him from SMS (after NHS frames him for stabbing him, ch. 107) and from NMJ (ch 107), and comforting him and giving him pain medicine about the wound in his leg (ch 108); along with LWJ, he’s distressed by the sound of JC’s sword-scraping technique against JGY’s music (ch 101); he tries to warn JC a couple of times when JC is fighting JGY (ch 101), cautions JL (ch 101) and later JC (ch 102) about worsening JC’s injuries, and along with JL, WWX, and LWJ freezes when JC slaps JL to the ground (ch 102); he asks Minshan why he’s being rude to LWJ, and a little later, with SMS and JL, pauses in astonishment when LWJ laughs (ch 100); he averts his gaze from and seems perhaps embarassed by the ghosts that WWX summons (ch 104); he calls out to WWX to remind him that his current body is closely related to JGY, and will therefore attract NMJ’s fierce corpse (ch 107). He actually has a couple of entertaining reactions to Wangxian being Wangxian: he coughs and tells WWX it is maybe not the best time and place for this when WWX is about to repeat “I really wanted to sleep with you,” and then later he and Jin Ling inexplicably! move their sitting cushions far away from Wangxian’s and gaze into the distance (ch 100).
And of course he reacts to JGY again and again, and—again!—is engaging and processing. Again pulling from my previous post—
And more than anything else—in what I think is a very instructive contrast—he reacts to JGY, in a way that reflects an ongoing continual emotional investment. He is, quite notably, consistently worried about JGY and unable to stand the sight of him in pain, even when he thinks he shouldn’t be. When the coffin trap goes off, and they overhear Jin cultivators wailing and a pungent smoke emerges, there’s worry in LXC’s eyes; after JGY and Minshan make it out, and JGY takes some medicine against the poison, LXC hesitates for a moment and then asks what happened (ch 103). After LWJ cuts JGY’s hand off—which means /after/ he’s taken JL hostage, note—LXC “seemed as though he wanted to help him for an instant,” though “in the end he dared not” (ch 106). When Minshan asks him for medicine for JGY, seeing how terrible JGY looks, he hesitates slightly before they’re interrupted by NMJ’s success fighting the Jin cultivators (ch 107). After they’ve defeated NMJ, he treats JGY’s wrist; moreover, “Seeing that Jin GuangYao almost passed out from the pain, Lan XiChen, who in the beginning wanted to use this to punish him, still didn’t have the heart to bear it,” and goes for the pain-relief medicine from NHS. And this is all not even accounting for his reactions to JGY either during his questioning of JGY or post-stabbing!
and
For the first, he calls out Sect Leader Jin when JGY starts in on JC after JC calls him the son of a prostitute (ch 104), although notably he does not do the same in their earlier confrontation when JGY is distracting JC in order to defeat him, only warning JC (ch 101); when JGY confesses to having burned down the brothel, he’s distressed when JGY says that it wasn’t entirely to remove the traces (ch 105); he becomes /less/ angry about the second siege and about QS when it turns out that he was operating under constraint in those conditions (ch 106); and of course, the thing he’s angriest about is JGY killing his father, “and even in such a way” (ch 106). In ch 103, looking down at the coffin he is shocked that JGY buried something that caused such horror to its surroundings, but without further information about JGY’s reasons this does not metamorphose into anger.
And there's even more! I don't want to quote all of that section because it's really long, but you get the point: before JGY dies, he's distressed, sure, but he's still processing.
And then after JGY dies, it's—
Lan XiChen staggered a few steps back from the push. He hadn’t realized what happened yet.
Lan XiChen stared at the coffin enveloped in seven guqin strings. He was still lost in thought. Nie HuaiSang extended a hand and waved it before his eyes, terrified, “… B-Brother XiChen, are you alright?”
Lan XiChen, “HuaiSang, just now, was he really trying to catch me off guard with an attack?”
Nie HuaiSang, “I think I saw it…”
Hearing his hesitation, Lan XiChen pressed, “Think it over some more.”
Nie HuaiSang, “If you ask me like that, I can’t be sure either… It really did seem like…”
Lan XiChen, “Cut out the ‘seem like’! Did it happen or not?!”
Nie HuaiSang answered with difficulty, “… I don’t know, I really don’t know!”
This was the only thing Nie HuaiSang knew to say when he was desperate. Lan XiChen buried his forehead in his palm. He seemed as if his head was about to split, unwilling to speak again.
Lan XiChen was startled, “Induce? Induce what?”
Lan WangJi’s voice was low, “Jin GuangYao’s killing intent.”
If it were the usual ZeWu-Jun, he couldn’t have failed to fathom this. But right now, it was likely he had no more space in his mind to think.
(ch 109)
Veins suddenly lined the back of the hand in which Lan XiChen placed on his forehead. His voice sounded muffled, “… Just what does he want to do? I once thought I knew him well, and then I realized I did not. Before tonight, I thought I knew him well once more, but now I do not.” Nobody could give him an answer. Lan XiChen repeated in frustration, “Just what does he want to do?”
Of the people here, some were cleaning up the scene, some were solidifying the seal on the coffin, some were thinking about how to move it safely, and some were feeling angry. Lan QiRen raged, “XiChen, what in the world is wrong with you?!”
As his hand pressed the corner of his forehead, Lan XiChen’s face was full of an unspeakable grief. He seemed tired, “… Uncle, I am begging you. Ask no further. Really. Right now, I really wish to say nothing.”
Lan QiRen had never seen Lan XiChen, a child he single-handedly brought up, look so agitated and discomposed. He looked at him, then looked at Lan WangJi, surrounded by disciples alongside Wei WuXian, and felt more irritated the more he looked. He felt that of these two of his proudest disciples who had been absolutely perfect, neither listened to him anymore and both gave him much worry.
Lan QiRen watched Lan XiChen who followed behind him sluggishly, still absent-minded, and sighed forcefully before he left with a flip of his sleeves.
(ch 110)
And then in the banquet extras, three months later:
Wei WuXian still clung to Lan WangJi’s chest, face buried at his neck as he felt the sandalwood aroma on Lan WangJi’s body grow even richer. He felt lazy all over, eyes closed, “Is your brother alright?”
Lan WangJi embraced his naked back, stroking again and again. After a while of a silence, he answered, “Not really.”
Both of the two were sticky with sweat. Wei WuXian felt an itch crawl from his skin all the way to the bottom of his heart as Lan WangJi stroked him. He twisted somewhat uncomfortably, swallowing Lan WangJi even deeper.
Lan WangJi lowered his voice, “In the years when I was in secluded meditation, Brother had always been the one to comfort me.”
Yet now the situation was the exact opposite.
Likely because Lan QiRen got a heart attack whenever he saw Wei WuXian, he simply decided not to look at him, staring straight forward. Lan XiChen was pleasant as always, holding the hint of a smile at his lips that always seemed like spring wind. Yet, perhaps because of the secluded meditation, Wei WuXian felt that ZeWu-Jun looked a bit frail.
(ch 115)
After the tasteless meal, the servants took away the plates and tables. As usual, Lan XiChen started to summarize the recent plans for the sect. But after listening for just a few sentences, Wei WuXian began to feel that he was a bit absent-minded. He even remembered two night-hunting locations wrong and didn’t realize after he spoke, causing Lan QiRen to throw a couple of sideway looks at him and puff his goatee into the air. A while later, he finally couldn’t help but interrupt him. Fortunately, the sect banquet finally ended, although somewhat hastily.
(ch 116)
So to recap—before JGY dies, he's distressed but he's still processing and reacting to things basically normally, he's got his head in the game. And then after JGY dies, he is very much /not/ processing things, he's not reacting normally, the things he's preoccupied with are entirely about JGY, LQR is like 'I've never seen him this way before.' And when we see him three months later, failing at very basic tasks he's long performed perfectly, it's the same kind of symptom—just as it was in ch 109, he seems to have no more space in his mind to think.
There's also the explicitly-drawn parallels between him and LWJ—by LQR, and by LWJ himself, paralleling LXC's current state with his own time in seclusion. And what would LWJ have needed comforting about while he was in seclusion? It's not the shattering of his worldview—it's Wei Ying.
I'm not going to go and rewatch and cap CQL temple, but the same basic pattern shows. Before JGY's death, he's functional and processing: afterwards, he's broken. I do think CQL LXC is more emotionally agitated before JGY's death than MDZS LXC is, but he's also even less functional afterwards so it evens out. If you go to 18:40ish in ep 50 (on YT, might be a different timestamp in Netflix) you can watch LXC stand frozen and stare into space and totally fail to react to anything including the conversation right next to him about his brother and WWX having run off.
I mean, I think it's also about the manner of JGY's death, if JGY had, idk, died heroically saving JL's life or something a year earlier he'd still have broken but probably not as badly? But it really is about JGY.
Tldr: I do think he kills himself in CQL; I don't think he does, even passively, in MDZS; but either way, his state at the end of canon isn't about his shattered worldview, it's about JGY being dead.
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demoiselledefortune · 3 years
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Post canon sangcheng fic recs for @runespoor7
(wooohoo that’s only 25 fics haha)
Silence by inberin
https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441771
a conversation in the snow.
Wonderfully nuanced characterisation. It hints at whole relationship and dynamic with a lot of delicacy.
Windrose by offlight
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997546
Nie Huaisang is forced into a coma to stop his qi deviation. Jiang Cheng is tasked with waking him up.
There’s a lot of intriguing dreamscapes in this one, and I love Jiang Cheng (and in the background Wei Wuxian)’s desperation and obstinacy.
All the innocence we give by shamiran
https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864910
Learning to renavigate the ground between them is easier than Nie HuaiSang expects. It's also harder than he could have imagined.
Just a sweet story.
Taste the wine off your lips by ExNihiIo
https://archiveofourown.org/works/20129245
A light pat lands against his back, and a cup of water is pushed in front of his face. “Not even Zi Shi, and you’re already tipsy?,” asks a teasing voice, while a thin hand puts down the cup. Jiang Cheng coughs a little more, shaking his head, and sends a dirty look at his host. “I am not tipsy.” “Hm, and yet your cheeks are all red. What would your disciples think, if they saw you in this state?” “They’d think about running away while they can. I can break legs more easily than I can drink alcohol.” A smile curves the edges of Nie Huaisang’s mouth, and he closes his fan with a curt jerk, sitting across the table. He’s wearing lighter clothes, Jiang Cheng notices, compared to the ones he had during the Discussion Conference. Where those had been tight and rigid against his body, these now fall softly on him, the large sleeves sweeping delicately as Nie Huaisang moves to pour himself a cup.
I like the melancholy tone of this one.
The light of autumn: you will not be spared by crooows
https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901467/chapters/47138221
Nie Huaisang arrives a week early for the conference which will be held in Yunmeng to discuss the position of chief cultivator.
[Title is from a poem called "October" by Louise Glück!]
A bit funny, a bit melancholy
You can run but you can’t hide by ThirtySixSaveFiles
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21119297
Nie Huaisang has noticed something about the way Jiang Cheng takes compliments; Nie Huaisang has a theory, and he intends to test it out.
Just Huaisang figuring out Jiang Cheng has a praise kink. Established pairing.
Evening Bloom by dragonofeternal
https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958518
Jiang Cheng is spry and lithe well into his twilight years, living well off Wei Wuxian's stolen youth; Nie Huaisang's golden core, on the other hand, has always been poor- he blacks his hair with ink and dyes, hides the pudge of indolence and the wrinkles of age behind the latest fashions and the finest fans. Perhaps for their peers, finding the space to be vulnerable came easy, but for them it's taken this long to maybe think of letting someone in.
I have a big weakness for stories about old people falling in love and this is one delivers very sweetly.
Four Days in Lanling by Halotolerant
https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722695/chapters/51817036
Nie Huaisang looks at him. ‘You are confusing me, Clan Leader Jiang, perhaps I misunderstand, but…’
‘You didn’t misunderstand. You don’t misunderstand. You understand all of it.’ For six months Jiang Cheng has been mulling this over, and now with Nie Huaisang in front of him he can’t figure out if he most wants to knock him down or kneel at his feet. What he does is try and breathe. Clench his hands at his sides. ‘And now I am going to ask you to do something for me. You have to do something for me. You have to help Jin Ling.’
Ok so perhaps it’s misrepresentating to call this a post canon fic  since most of the action is mid-13-years-of-WWX-death but the fairly important framing part is post canon. Also it’s one of the best sangcheng fic out there and a must read.
Shadow eternal by rynleaf
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162944/chapters/55439032
“You want me to distract the Chief Cultivator from the Annual Cultivation Conference, so you and other sect leaders can… what. Sign contracts without adult supervision?”
“If Jiang-zongzhu is amenable,” Sect Leader Ouyang repeats with a nod.
Jiang Cheng pinches the bridge of his nose. The pressure he felt building behind his eyes all morning is swiftly coalescing into a bitch of a headache. “Just what do you all think I’m capable of?”
Sect Leader Ouyang bows with a cheerful smile. “We have utmost faith in Sandu Shengshou’s abilities.”
-
In which a night hunt ends in disaster, Jiang Cheng catches a glimpse of Nie Huaisang's heart, and feelings are discussed after a certain fashion.
One that’s between sweet and angsty.
The way is shut, and we cannot go back by saltedpin
https://archiveofourown.org/works/23592523
One month since Guanyin Temple, and some people are coping better than others (or not).
This one is a mostly sad and bitter take on Jiang Cheng reacting to Nie Huaisang’s plot (and being very drunk).
Living memory by ghosthouses
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827980
Once Jin Guangyao has left, he gives himself two indulgences. The first, a day to scream in his rooms made soundproof with a talisman. The second, a physical list written in code, to keep his older self, who will have let the pain dull with time, accountable for what must be done.
It has only two commandments:
He will die.  
and 
He will know.
Nie Huaisang puts it in his sleeve with the intention of keeping it with him at all times, to be added to but never reduced, a living memory of his task.
This and its prequel which you should also read is quite short but probably one of my favorite depictions of their dynamic (and probably one I find most plausible).
What’s Left of us by cangse-sanren
https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979081
“Well,” Huaisang tries hesitantly, “both of us seem to have a rather fraught relationship with things like older brothers and the concept of betrayal. And regret,” he adds as an afterthought. "Perhaps you just understand me more than most."
Yet another that dwells into Jiang Cheng reacting to Nie Huaisang’s plan. I really like that take although it’s barely shippy (and quite short).
Descending by lightningwaltz
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25296595
“I want to… to not be embarrassed.”
“To not be embarrassed during what?”
“During sex.” There. Jiang Cheng can say it. “In general. Also with you right now.”
“Very good.”
“When did you become so authoritative?” Jiang Cheng wants to sound irked, but can’t quite manage anything beyond nervous curiosity.
Very interesting fic and in many ways unusual. I’d say it’s hypnosis kink, but it’s much more character driven than that. With a context of established FWB arrangement between Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang.
Tell him that I miss our little talks by xiaolongbaobei
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232023
the post-canon fic where Jiang Cheng becomes the Chief Cultivator, realizes that it's not too late to fall in love and learns to ask for what he wants
Longish fic exploring Jiang Cheng as Chief cultivator working with Nie Huaisang and slowly falling in love with him. I adore this one, and not only because I love fics that explore the idea of Jiang Cheng as chief cultivator.
Blind for Love by manamune
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760272
Jiang Cheng is poisoned with an aphrodisiac and needs to orgasm repeatedly in order to flush it from his system.
The first person he thinks of going to for help is Nie Huaisang, who does what any good friend would do: he shoves his three decades worth of feelings for Jiang Cheng deep into the recesses of his mind, locks them up so he can pretend they don’t exist, and then fucks him so hard that he passes out.
Mostly a long smutty piece, but with a lot of fun character bits along the way.
A Tight-Knit Family by aldalin
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500481/chapters/61862899
“Jing Ling, we need to talk.”
Jin Ling has too many uncles, and he’s about to get another.
Sect Leader Jiang announces his marriage to Sect Leader Nie.
A fairly different take, more focused on Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian reacting to Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang’s relationship.
A trip to Qinghe by Scorpiwriting
https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974741
An unexpected hunt forces Jiang Cheng to leave the Lotus Pier a bit earlier than he had anticipated, so he decides to send Jin Ling to Qinghe, for the sake of not sending him back to Lanling so soon: it turns into a learning experience for the young sect leader, who gets to peek into the life of the Headshaker.
or.
Jin Ling learns that not everything people say is true and that perhaps there is some merit to art. He also learns that loneliness is a dark beast and that his uncle should definitely do something about it.
Another one more focused on Jin Ling’s reaction to it. Honestly more of a gen piece about Jin Ling and Nie Huaisang, but an interesting one.
Silver bracelets on their wrists by mercurious
https://archiveofourown.org/works/25797715
“Can’t I find excuses to visit an old friend?”
Ok so this one is a bit fucked up in interesting ways. It combines Chief Cultivator Jiang Cheng and explicit longing about Wei Wuxian, and BDSM as catharsis. It’s a fascinating piece.
Welcome to love by amphigoric
https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412866/chapters/53549794
Desire, Jiang Cheng learned, flourished even in love’s absence. It surged hot and fast through his veins at the sight of Nie Huaisang’s spread thighs, marks still lingering from the last rendezvous they had. He felt it burning through his chest as Huaisang raked lines down his back, breaths coming in short, desperate gasps: “Jiang Wanyin, Jiang Wanyin, please, please.”
It’s a little bit clumsy at times, but also very passionate and intense in a way I still find compelling. Featuring a lot of self sabotaging Jiang Cheng.
When your stitch comes loose by heyninja
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27868454/chapters/68234434
Sometimes people see you for who you really are. Sometimes because you let them. Sometimes whether you like it or not.
A triptych of collisions between Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng.
Only the last part is post canon but it’s the most important part, isn’t it?
Peel your heart like a pomegranate by Izumi_silverleaf
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29458974
"It's an extraordinary feeling when parts of your body are touched for the first time. I'm thinking of the sensations from sex and surgery."
Sometimes you just need to read a very hot guro fic. It’s a weird fic but it’s a cool one.
If you give a Nie a cushion by LesbianLazerOwl
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470236
Prompt: Long enough After Canon that everyone's mostly okay these days, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang get drunk and wind up comparing masturbation habits; each is aghast at how the other spends their personal time.
Funny and hot
To Distraction by isozyme
https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763816
It’s the third night of Yunmeng’s kite festival celebrations. Nie Huaisang has come visiting, eager to partake in the food, the arts, and Jiang Cheng.
Jiang Cheng wants to forget. Nie Huaisang has some new lube and wants to see if he can put his whole fist in somebody’s ass.
Established pairing in which Nie Huaisang fists Jiang Cheng. It’s hot.
Safe in Your arms by Dragon_scribe
https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070503/chapters/74058315
In the aftermath of a night hunt gone (very) wrong, Jiang Cheng wakes up to find himself in the Unclean Realm. As he recovers from his injuries, he and Nie Huaisang grow closer and as time passes, their friendship begins to shift to something more.
Very sweet/sappy and hurt/comfort orientated, with a small bit of reconciliation dimension too.
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baoshan-sanren · 4 years
Text
Chapter 30
of the wwx emperor au I’m thinking of calling Lan QiRen’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week oh god it’s only gonna get worse
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 Part 1 | Chapter 22 Part 2 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25 | Chapter 26 | Chapter 27 | Chapter 28 | Chapter 29
They watch the lanterns from a rooftop terrace.
The inn itself is large and lovely. The front faces the main road, which crosses YiLing east to west, leading directly to the Immortal Mountain. The back opens into an enclosed garden, the tallow trees awash in autumn colors, hiding whatever unsightly neighbors may exist beyond their red-gold canopy of branches. It is difficult to fully conceal the haphazardness of YiLing, but the designer of the inn had cleverly used the landscape to obscure as much of the town as possible. One could easily imagine, if occupying the rooms and balconies facing the garden, that no such thing as overcrowded winehouses or street markets could exist in its vicinity.
In short, it is not a type of place where the Lan Sect would ever attempt to secure lodgings, nor would XiChen ever walk into its front halls of his own volition.
Nie MingJue has no such reservations. The innkeeper’s insistence that the terrace can only be accessed by the guests of the inn falls on deaf ears, and is soon completely silenced by Nie MingJue’s contemptuous glare. A simple glint of gold is enough to make XiChen’s Lan Sect uniform invisible. In moments, they are both personally escorted to the roof of the building.
The terrace is not large, and they are not alone. XiChen tucks himself into a corner overlooking the street, MingJue’s bulk easily blocking him from the sight of other patrons, preventing any unwanted attention. The towering mass of the Immortal Mountain is a black, indistinct shape to the west, a silent guardian watching over YiLing. The first lanterns are always released from the Emperor’s palace, and they seem to have arrived just in time to see them rising from a pitch black void between the earth and heavens, resembling handfuls of fading stars hanging low in the sky.
XiChen had assumed that YiLing may prove itself less disordered when seen from above, the way one can only see a large pattern from a distance. He is wrong. There truly is no sense or structure to be seen in its layout. Not a single street is free of someone shouting their wares, intricate roof ridge decorations arch next to weathered tiles that had long needed replacing, stubborn maples grow wherever they can find a spot of dirt and a flood of rain water.
He has not yet decided if he is pleased or disappointed by the discovery, when lanterns from YiLing follow those released from the Immortal Mountain, painting the town in light and color, chasing the darkness away. XiChen has seen the Lantern Festival many times in Gusu, twice during an unplanned stay in MoLing, and once during a particularly long Sect Leader conference in LanLing. The LanLing Jin grandiosity is difficult to match anywhere in the Empire, but XiChen has never seen so many lanterns at once, transforming night into day, hardly a slice of sky visible between them.
The parade traveling the street below them swells, loud and cheerful, the sheer profusion of chaos and noise impossible to ignore, even with such an impressive light show directly above them.
XiChen turns to MingJue, intending to ask if YiLing truly holds a different procession each night of the festival. The idea still seems extravagant to him, even if it is the Emperor’s birthday. But MingJue is looking at neither the lanterns, nor the parade below, his attentive gaze and half-formed smile focused entirely on XiChen.
XiChen forgets what he had meant to ask, and looks away again, his face heating.
They are standing close, to keep their distance from the other spectators gathered on the terrace. It is only a handful of guests, their voices indistinct murmurs, easily drowned out by the clamor from the street.
XiChen does not like feeling flustered, especially in the presence of strangers.
“Sect Leader--“
“You have asked me to call you by your name,” Nie MingJue says, his voice low, “and I have obeyed. But no matter how many times I ask, you will not do the same.”
XiChen folds his hands in his sleeves, to keep them steady and out of sight. The only sources of light on the terrace are the small, paper lamps decorating the inn roof, and even they only cast a reddish, muted glow. XiChen fervently hopes that their glow is faint enough to conceal the color in his cheeks.
“It would be improper,” he says.
Even as he speaks, he inwardly cringes at the absurdity of the words.
How hypocritical of him, to call such familiarity improper. Did he not allow the man to hold his hand whenever he wished? Had he not welcomed each advance with a smile? Can he not still feel the press of Nie MingJue’s palm on the small of his back?
And yet, regardless of how imprudent all his earlier behavior may be, he must draw a line somewhere. If not for the sake of propriety, then for the sake of his own sanity.  
"Would it be less improper if I were to speak plainly of my admiration?”
Oh, XiChen thinks, breath leaving him in a rush.
Although this is something he had long suspected, to have it spoken out loud, to have it confirmed in such direct fashion, seems to be more than he had been prepared to handle. How can something be so thrilling, and yet cause so much confusion and misery?
“Even if you were to speak plainly,” XiChen says, struggling to keep his voice firm, “You would still be the General of the Emperor’s army, with duties to perform and a Sect to lead. And I-- I would still be the future leader of the Lan Sect. We should not speak of impossible things.”
“This is your only objection? Not my temper or disposition, but the circumstances of our individual positions?”
Mortified, XiChen imagines that his face must be as red as the lamps decorating the roof.
“You are being rather bold,” he says, “but I have found no other cause for disapproval.”
Nie MinJue falls silent. XiChen returns to watching the parade without truly seeing it, the trembling agitation in his chest refusing to settle.
Unexpectedly, he feels guilty, as if the circumstances which prevent him from speaking just as directly are somehow of his own making. The General of the Emperor’s army may bestow his admiration liberally, and he may do so as boldly as he pleases. Ultimately, Nie MingJue has nothing to lose. A small bit of lost pride in having to face rejection can be nothing to someone so highly esteemed. But XiChen, destined to lead a disgraced Sect, can never be so bold. The small bit of dignity he possesses might be pitiful and tattered, but he cannot put it aside, regardless of his heart’s desires.
A flash of white in the crowd is a welcome distraction, but even so, it takes him some time to recognize the Lan Sect robes, and even longer to realize why the sight of them is so jarring.
It is only one set of robes. One single disciple moving through the crowds, when uncle had been more than explicit in his instructions. They are always to travel in pairs, regardless of circumstances. There are a few places in the Empire where a lone Lan disciple may pass unscathed, but YiLing has never been one of them.
“XiChen?”
“I think something is wrong,” XiChen says, “that is Lan YunLi, and he should not be here. Not this late in the evening, and not alone.”
“Come,” Nie MingJue does not hesitate, “let us catch him before he disappears.”
238 notes · View notes
folderolsfollies · 3 years
Text
Sangyao Arranged Marriage ... Part 2
[Part 1]
Word Count: 2.5k Rating: t Warnings: None to date (there is discussion of canon events)
The Unclean Realm was a home first, and then a fortress, and then a home again, and it stands in stark, punishing angles against the mountains that enfold it. The expansions made by Nie Huaisang’s fathers and grandfather’s were hewn by descendants grimly aware of their oncoming death, who built the rooms and wrought the gates as much to keep demons locked inside as to rout the demons at their door.
But the private chambers for the family were fashioned as delicately as any Lan parlor room. These were commissioned by the butchers who founded the clan, anxious to be seen as refined as any other gentry, despite their rough origins, and so the architects were held to the highest standards of taste. And so they remain, gleaming like a pearl in the heart of the realm, embedded within its harsh grey oyster shell.
Nie Huaisang flits through its shining corridors, wrapped in grey robes woven so finely that in the moonlight they glow a pale, iridescent white.
“Da-ge, I’ve come to manipulate you”, he announces, barging into Da-ge’s private office late at night. Better to be upfront about these things with Da-ge, rather than suffer the consequences that come from him finding out about it later.
Nie Huaisang’s brother doesn’t even look up from his paperwork. His desk, a recent addition, is sturdy Qinghe steel, dominating against the elegant background. “No, you cannot get out of saber practice to go to some art show,” he grinds out, implacable as a knife on a whetstone.
Nie Huaisang, seeing that his brother isn’t going to pay any attention to his bravura performance, doesn’t bother to bristle. He just exhales noisily and says, dropping to his knees on the other side of the desk, “No, not about that,” and dutifully picks up a sheaf of letters from one of the stacks on Nie Mingjue’s desk. Stage one in his plan: here comes the filial child, helping with sect duties.
The first letter on the pile is a report of a horde of fierce corpses in a minor provincial town to the south-west of Qinghe. Nie Huaisang frowns, temporarily distracted, and reaches for one of the blank maps and ink sticks that Nie Mingjue keeps permanently on his desk.
“Do you have a map of just the fierce corpse sightings from oh, since the last new moon?” he says, absently, and wets his quill in Nie Mingjue’s inkwell.
“Decorum, Huaisang,” says Nie Mingjue roughly, and so he rolls his eyes around the flicker of annoyance, and starts grinding a fresh pot of ink for himself. Meng Yao would have let him. “And no. Why, do you see a pattern?”
“No-ot yet,” Nie Huaisang says, “No talking for ten minutes, let me draw it out.”
He’s thinking about what he’ll say if Nie Mingjue complains about being silenced in his own office, but his brother just grunts and returns to the accounts. He takes some bright red fresh ink as well as the black, and the thick sheaf of cultivator requests from the outlying counties, and places it all on his side of the large desk.
Maybe it’s just that Jin Guangyao was here, earlier, to draw out the comparison, but the office feels vaster and emptier than it did when Meng Yao’s steady presence at his own writing table anchored the other side of the room. There was something about his fine-boned face that came into focus when seen in candlelight, although it may have just been the proximity to gold.
“Look at this,” Nie Huaisang says finally, fanning at the paper to let the ink dry, “Red is the older reports, black are the corpse sightings from the past few weeks. We’ve been assuming that these corpses are all remnants of Wen casualties from the Sunshot campaign because of their robes, but Qishan is almost entirely volcanic terrain, so for a horde of mindless puppets there are only a few real possible routes of egress without being destroyed- here, here, and here.” He sketches rough circles around wide valleys. “But there’s a different pattern to these reports. If you draw a line,” and he places the ink stick down to draw out the path, “they all seem to be coming from one area in the south-west, and recently, since the older reports are clustered more south.” There’s a warm, pleased flush in his chest. Maybe he lacks cultivation skills, but there are other ways to be useful, he thinks.
Nie Mingjue glowers, and points to where the end of the ink stick lies with gathering anger. Baxia, ever responsive to his brother’s moods, lets out a warning growl in the corner. “Yiling? So this Wei Wuxian’s work?”
Nie Huaisang shakes his head. “I don’t know! I just don’t know, something about all of this doesn’t sit right.” He drags his fan over his lower lip, waiting for his logic to catch up with the conclusion. “Oh! It’s the frequency. Maybe he’s been slaughtering whole towns to get these numbers, but they would still have to pass through Jiang and Jin territory to get to us, at least, you’d expect it to be more thinned out. ”
Nie Mingjue slams his hand against the desk, but it’s his thinking rap, easily dismissed. “And we can’t overlook any non-related cause - a haunted amulet half-destroyed a town last year and caused a swarm, and that was never linked to any one sect.”
Nie Huaisang hums, flicking his fan open to cover his whole face while he thinks. “Also, Yunmeng is also pretty close to Yiling - it could be that Jiang Wanyin has decided to dip his toes into demonic cultivation.” He drags the fan down his face until it bumps against the bridge of his nose.
Over it, he looks at Nie Mingjue. Nie Mingjue looks at him. They burst into laughter as one.
“Did you hear him at the last cultivation conference when he pledged to break the legs of any demonic cultivator that crossed his border? He threatened me the exact same way when we were all at Gusu together,” Nie Huaisang wheezes. “Turns out falling asleep in class and raising the dead merit the same punishment.”
Nie Mingjue sobers suddenly at that, and says, “Sect Leader Jiang had to take on responsibilities too young, and now he’s lost his brother, and his sister has married out.” Baxia shrieks mournfully in her holder. “He’s shouldering his burdens admirably given the circumstances.”
Nie Huaisang feels his soft insides twist. There’s a cliff here waiting, and at the base is everything the two of them can’t - don’t - talk about. He tells himself in a familiar refrain that one day they will, just - not today. Instead he says, “Well, now that the Twin Heroes of Yunmeng are out of the running, maybe we can be a brother duo to rival the Twin Jades of Gusu! What do you think the two of us could be, Da-ge - the Mountain and the Small Plum?”
Nie Mingjue just looks at  Nie Huaisang for a long moment, solemn and worn, and Nie Huaisang can see the edge of the cliff in his eyes. Are you dying? Nie Huaisang thinks. Would you tell me if you thought you were? “I’d be a bad plum. I don’t wear purple,” Nie Mingjue says finally, primly.
“I will tell the matchmakers you’re funny,” says Nie Huaisang, because he can’t help it.
“Brat!” says Nie Mingjue, not unfondly.
“And sensitive.” he continues, threateningly, wagging a warning finger in his face.
“Put the map away, properly,” Nie Mingjue orders, apparently electing to ignore him. “I’m putting you in charge of following up with this, including coordinating with the cultivators for more information if necessary.”
“Da-ge!” Nie Huaisang whines, slumping in his seat and pouting outrageously. “I came up with the idea, why can’t we put one of the deputies on it?”
“Nie Huaisang!” Nie Mingjue yells back immediately, not as loud as he can get, but loud enough to ring through the enclosed room. “You’re going to be sect leader! You have to start taking this seriously!”
Nie cultivators die early and violently as a rule, but not, as Nie Mingjue seems to be resigned to, in their 20s. Nie Huaisang’s father, who was strong, died when he was 48, and that after he was murdered. Nie Mingjue is 27, and stronger, and the world is at a tenuous version of peace. And yet he has this constant paranoia that Nie Huaisang cannot understand, as if the smoke and gore from the battlefield never washed clean from his robes. As if he knows something that Nie Huaisang does not. Nie Huaisang whips his head around, fully prepared to yell back at him, when his eyes fall on Meng Yao’s old seat. Pick your battles, second young master, he used to say, or you’ll find you’ve lost the war. He deflates. Okay, then. Okay.
“Fine, I will,” he says, a little mulishly, and starts putting away the papers and ink.
Nie Mingjue looks a little surprised. Then he puts his head in his hands like it’s an immense burden. “I never wanted us to have a title like that, you know,” he says hoarsely. “Not like the Twin Jades, or the Heroes… it boxes you in. It boxed Xichen in, him and Wangji.” When he looks up, his eyes are glassy. “I wish you could do whatever you want, Huaisang, I wish I could—“
“Oh Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang says, feeling the sting of matching tears well up in his eyes, and clasps his forearms across the table. “You’re a good brother. I know. I know.” A smaller part of him, the cold little whisper in his ear that he can never quell, tells him: this is your moment. You can use this.
Nie Mingjue smiles painfully through his tears. “Now what are you really here for?” he says, thinly.
Nie Huaisang stays silent and rolls the name of Jin Guangyao experimentally across his mind. It’s a powder-keg that will erupt the conversation when Nie Huaisang deploys it, but on the other hand, will allow his brother to wrap anger around his grief like a blanket. Da-ge is not a man inclined to accept comfort, except in the depths of despair, which he has not quite reached, yet. Anger is better. Nie Huaisang makes his choice.
“I saw Jin Guangyao today,” he says mildly, and braces himself for the explosion.
Da-ge starts ranting, of course, like an afternoon Yunmeng thunderstorm - suddenly, all at once, and just as quickly over. It is such a familiar chant that were it not for the volume, Nie Huaisang could be lulled to sleep by it. Jin Guangyao is a traitor, a murderer, a spy, vindictive and narcissistic, liable to stab you in the back, liable to stab you in the heart. The last one, of course, is not said out loud, Nie Mingjue, loudly and publicly, and perhaps even in the thoughts that he tells himself, detests his sworn brother. Really, it is no wonder that Nie Huaisang got on so well with Jiang Wanyin when they were younger. His bluster was nearly the same.
He occupies himself with thinking about his brother’s complaints. They are, of course, strictly true. And of course Da-ge can’t understand. If their places were switched, if Da-ge had grown up in a brothel and Meng Yao been a sect leader’s son, Da-ge would have striven and worked inexorably until he earned his place through merit alone. And he would have died in obscurity. At best.
As a torturer, Jin Guangyao tortured. As a deputy, he handled the accounts efficiently and well. He was the blade to be wielded, with the blade's cold pragmatism. It was love that would cut you with Meng Yao, that was the irregularity that would swing his quick, efficient strikes off target.
When Nie Mingjue finishes up, Nie Huaisang tugs at the two strands of hair hanging in front of his face. “So, will you execute him?” he asks. “You could get a tribunal.”
Over Nie Mingjue’s sputters, he sighs and says, “Manipulation, Da-ge, I told you.” Really, what would his older brother ever do without him? “But you either have to leave the war behind you or step into the future. Why would you ally with him?”
It’s a leading question, to which everyone and their sect siblings know the answer. “To lead him back to the path of righteousness.” Nie Mingjue says, dutifully as a prize pupil.
“And why would Meng Yao ally with you?” Nie Huaisang asks rudely, raising his eyebrows. “You can’t assume that it’s because he’s overjoyed to receive your lectures.” This line of questioning is dangerous, which is why it’s quite lucky that his brother has already burnt his temper out earlier.
Nie Mingjue, as expected, darkens but doesn’t explode. As a righteous and self-flagellating man, he automatically rejects the premise entirely, even as Nie Huaisang, used to chasing for expressions in Meng Yao’s ink-dark eyes, suspects it might not be entirely false. Nie Mingue says, “To ally the Jin with one of the two strongest clans.”  
“Then be his ally, Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang argues. “Reprimand him in private, if you must, but in public let everyone know that the might of the Nie are behind him, or he’ll have no choice but to lean even more heavily on his father.”
Nie Mingjue sighs heavily. “You’re growing up, aren’t you, Huaisang? You almost sounded like-” He pauses awkwardly. “Well, why this sudden interest in Jin Guangyao’s welfare now?”
Who did he sound like? His father - his mother? He’s so caught up in thinking about it that when he opens his mouth the truth slips out almost unbidden. “I’ve always been interested in Jin Guangyao’s welfare.” He hastily temporizes. “You know that he always helped me establish my claim as a true Nie, even when others thought I was too weak.”
This was one of the many duties that Nie Mingjue had not thought to ask for, but which Meng Yao had anticipated. When Nie Huaisang played at giving orders to adults older and stronger than him, feeling a fool, Meng Yao would stand, properly deferential, until the soldiers relented and only Nie Huaisang could see the shadow of a smile playing around his mouth.
Rudely, Nie Mingjue looks doubtful. But the truth Nie Huaisang senses in himself is as scattered and hard to grasp as motes in the air - Meng Yao stepping in front of him automatically when the Wen attacked Cloud Recesses, the fans that appeared in his room, the way that Meng Yao looks at him, solemn and a little empty, more real than any of his daubed on smiles and thus infinitely treasured by Nie Huaisang. When his smiles reach his eyes, then I’ll have lost him, he thinks, and tucks the thought away.
Nie Huaisang sees his brother giving in on the line of his brow before he even opens his mouth. It has the weight of inevitability: his brother is constantly searching for justifications to forgive Meng Yao; to forgive Nie Huaisang.
“In public,” Nie Mingjue says. “In private, I intend to keep impressing upon him the virtue of the righteous path.” Of course he agreed, and of course he never thought to leverage the favor in order to extract any promises from Nie Huaisang about training. Nie Huaisang feels so much love for his brother suddenly that it is briefly hard to breathe.
“Of course, Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang says. “And… one more thing.” He smiles a little anxiously and taps his wrist with his fan. 
“Spit it out,” Nie Mingjue says resignedly.
“Well, I was hoping that we could host a party?”
-----------
Small note on ages - I’m assuming that Nie Huaisang is 21, Meng Yao 23, and Nie Mingjue 27 at this point.
And here’s the poem NHS is referencing when he’s discussing a potenial title for the two of them!
Small Plum in a Mountain Garden
Among withered flowers plum trees brightly bloom, Dominating garden with beauty unsurpassed;
In clear and shallow water sparse branches loom, Floating in moonlit air with delicate fragrance; Eager are the winter birds who come to look, Spring butterflies they must equally enchant; To enjoy such beauty writing these few lines I have luck, Want of wine and song these blooms supplant.
—Wu Li, 2017
For a very in-depth breakdown of this poem (and why I think it fits Nie Huaisang particularly well), I really recommend Anne Lu’s essay!  Essentially the plum blossom is a winter plant - delicate, fragile, and blooming best after other plants have succumbed to the harsh terrain. I like it for our Headshaker! :) 
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twodaysintojune · 4 years
Text
The Accidental Time Quandary
The Untamed / Mo Dau Zu Shi / The Grandmaster of Diabolic Cultivation XiCheng, Background WangXian, 9k
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“The hell are you doing now?”
Wei Wuxian was kneeling in front of a large array in the middle of what he had fondly started to call his studio that was just a simple shackle at the backside of his home with Lan WangJi at the Cloud Recesses. 
“Time Travel!” 
Said Wei Wuxian with a grin, turning to look at his brother with a nose smudged in paint. Jiang WanYin rolled his eyes but looked amused at the array at his feet.
“You’re getting bolder everytime. I’m just glad your husband decided to make this place for you, not that I’m surprised after how you blew up half of the building the other day...”
Wei Wuxian pouted at him “Hey! That was a miscalculation.” 
Jiang WanYin snorted. He would never say it but he was just glad to be able to interact with his brother like this. It had taken them years, even after things had cleared out although, thankfully, it had not been as many as the amount of years his brother had spent dead. Heck, he even was on better terms these days with Lan WangJi as well, although he deduced that that had also been influenced a lot by his brother who, after leaving his year in seclusion had started to try building some bridges between both volatile men.
“Just you wait. If I make this work I’ll come back from the future with a lot of amazing stuff.” He stood up and went towards his desk to write down a couple of notes.
Jiang WanYin sighed. “You know, there are things that should be best left alone… Besides how are you going to know it actually is the future? Maybe you should first try to go to the past, if you change this character here...” He erased a couple of strokes and grabbed paint to place the proper incantation for the word past “There. See?”
Standing from inside the array, he showed his brother his work when suddenly the array came to life. Things happened in a flash but felt like forever at the same time. He felt his own surprise and saw Wei Wuxian’s panicked expression while his own hand lifted towards the man, who tripped over the low table trying to get to him. A burst of light blinded him. 
And then, darkness.
When Jiang WanYin opened his eyes once more the first thing he noticed was a terrible headache. He groaned and turned on his side. He looked around and found himself in what he felt was a guest room of the Cloud Recesses but not the one that had more or less become his own. He sat up and saw a simple white robe that reminded him a lot of the one he had used once while studying at the Cloud Recesses ready for him in front. He saw Sandu leaning by their side but Zidian was nowhere in sight. He frowned, it was very unsightly to take away a spiritual weapon from the owner but he trusted the Lans and Wei Wuxian so he had to wonder if that could have something to do with the mishap of the array. Sighing, he dressed up, took Sandu and stepped outside. He was not going to be able to get any information inside of the room anyway. 
Jiang WanYin was still not quite sure about how much time had passed since the accident with Wei Wuxian’s array but it seemed like it was around eight or nine in the morning so he assumed that at least almost an entire day. What a waste of time.
Finally, he saw Wei Wuxian on his back, standing in front of Lan WangJi in the corridor where he was walking. Taking advantage of the fact that he could not see him, he walked soundlessly towards him and pushed his lower back towards Lan WangJi with enough strength to make the troublemaker fall onto Lan WangJi’s arms, faces dangerously close to each other.
“Oi, Can you stop flirting with your husband so early in the morning? I need to ask you some questions.”
He frowned when he got no response from either of the pair and stepped closer. Wei Wuxian was still frozen in place, face literally burning while Lan Wangji’s ears looked like they had condensed all the red blood in his body on themselves.
“Hello? Earth to stupid couple? Can you come back from cloud nine already?”
Finally, Wei Wuxian turned towards his brother. “W-w-w-what!?”
Jiang WanYin sighed and rubbed his frown in frustration. “Oh for the love of...” Unceremoniously, he grabbed his forearm and pulled him away from Lan WangJi who, incredibly, had not tried to keep him to himself like he always used to do. “I said, stop flirting with your husband dammit! How long has it been anyways? Shouldn’t you get out of the honeymoon phase already? Whatever, please excuse us, HanGuang-Jun.”
He bowed towards the other man who looked like all his brain functions had suddenly stopped and just looked at them walk away from sight.
“Anyway, that array of yours, I need to know what happened. My head still hurts like I’ve got the worst hangover ever and I would really like to know where you left Zidian.” 
Jiang WanYin turned to look at his brother with crossed arms. Wei Wuxian, who still looked like he had received the biggest shock of his life was only able to cling on to the last words of his brother.
“W-where is Zidian? Isn’t it with Madam Yu?”
Jiang Cheng frowned and was about to lash back once more when he finally noticed the white student robe Wei Wuxian was wearing. Just the same as his own. His eyes widened and he felt his ears prickle with noise when the implications of actually having been thrown to the past finally hit him.
“...Shit.”
Quickly, his mind reeling, he stepped backwards and began to run away from where Wei Wuxian still was, ignoring his calls. This had to be a joke, like, the worst joke ever. He began to run towards the library, hoping that he would be able to find something that could help him go back.
“You! Stop there right now!”
Before Jiang WanYin had realized his mistake he had already stopped and, sighing, turned around towards the owner of the voice.
“Master Lan Qiren.” He gave the elder a bow.
“Jiang WanYin! I can’t believe it! Do I have to remind you of the rules?”
Jiang WanYin did his best not to roll his eyes “Rule thirteen, Running is Prohibited.”
“Then why are you even doing it!?”
Jiang WanYin was running through a series of excuses on his head when a voice behind them came through.
“I believe young Master Jiang had Sword Practice at this hour?”
Arriving with a soft smile was Lan XiChen, Jiang WanYin had not felt happier to see him in what felt like years. Which was true, it had been years. Ever since the Sunshot Campaign, when for one reason or the other he was cornered fighting the Wens on a particularly bloody battle and somehow Lan XiChen had appeared by his side to save the day.
“I… uh, Yes. Forgive me, Master, I did not want to delay anyone more at practice so I thought it best for the group if I ran even if it looked unsightly.” He gave him his most respectful bow with ease. He had practiced it for a long time by now.
Lan Qiren huffed. “I understand where you come from but it’s best to show up in time. These actions are very rare coming from you. What happened?”
“I was not feeling well earlier, Master.” Like hell he would tell them he had time travelled and suddenly had found himself trapped in the past.
“Very well, I’ll let it pass this time. Go back to your class.”
“Master, Zewu-Jun.” He bowed at both of them and walked away towards the Practice Court frustrated. He was going to have to wait for it to end in order to escape to the library to start trying to find some answers. 
He was unaware of how Lan Xichen was looking at him walking away noticing that he walked poised and well trained, hands perfectly positioned at the back in the manner that he had been doing for years as Sect Leader. Imposing and undefying.
Sword practice had been… interesting to say the least. He remembered clearly that he had struggled a lot with many things back then but at the moment it felt like child’s play. All the forms and poses perfectly forged within his muscle memory. He did not realize the mistake he was making of doing things so well until their resting time.
“You’re on a roll today, aren’t you?”
He turned to look at Nie HuaiSang “What do you mean?”
“You’re working your stances really well. Everybody’s talking about it.”
“Huh?” He turned around to look how, indeed, many people, including his own brother, were looking at him. 
Oh, crap, I fucked again. Was the only thing he thought.
“Ah, I don’t know, maybe I just woke up in a good shape? Don’t count on it looking this good all the time.” He waved away.
Nie HuaiSang laughed “No, no, this is what real talent is about. I could never do it this well even in good shape.”
Jiang WanYin turned to look at his friend with a serious look. It pained him to see such a bright innocent face knowing what would come of him years later. Without realizing his own actions he took his arm softly.
“If you don't feel like using your sable, maybe you could try with something else, like fans. I mean, you're already fluttering around with those all the time. It wouldn't hurt to try.”
Nie HuaiSang looked at his friend surprised by the honest advice and then looked downwards, a soft red filling his cheeks. 
When the second hour began there was a bustle between all the students. Jiang Cheng turned around to find Lan XiChen in the middle of the training grounds.
“Well, I see you’ve been doing well!” Said the man after being told by the teacher of their progress. “Maybe you boys would like to do something more entertaining for the second hour? Like, one on one fights?”
The boys began to cheer as much as they could considering the place where they were while Jiang WanYin felt a sudden turn in his gut. He turned towards the direction where he had seen his brother, knowing perfectly well what he would do.
"Come on Jiang Cheng! Let's fight!"
The group had been separated into pairs and the fist pair was already starting their fight. The first person pushed away from the sparring circle was the one who lost.
Jiang WanYin felt unsettled, waiting for their turn by his brother's side. It had been so long since they had fought with blades, ever since that fateful core transplant that he didn't even remember his brother's fighting style. He also didn't want to face him at all. The memory of the reason why Wei Wuxian had given away all of his cultivation path just for him was something he still didn't feel ready to face. 
"What? Are you nervous I'm gonna beat you up in front of everyone?"
He felt a sure nudge on the ribs. He turned around and, bringing the best impersonation of the fifteen year old that he didn't remember he ever was, pushed Wei Wuxian away.
"Shut up!"
Wei Wuxian sent him a flashing smile. Apparently that had been the right answer.
When the both were called forward Jiang WanYin decided to do the wise thing and wait for Wei Wuxian to take the first step, he wanted this to be over as fast as it possibly could. They began circling each other, measuring their pace.
Wei Wuxian snorted "What's wrong? Too afraid to come at me? Where's your usual hurriedness?"
"What about you?" Called Jiang WanYin "Always so happy to wait for the troubles to get you, maybe I should give you another push towards the right direction?"
"You-!" 
Wei Wuxian plunged towards his brother, clearly feeling his cheeks burning. Jiang WanYin received the plunge with his own sword and guided it away from him, throwing Wei Wuxian even further to the edge of the ring. Before he was able to recover his ground, he felt Jiang WanYin kick him, making him fall on the ground, completely out of the ring. It had been the fastest match yet. Before Jiang WanYin could take notice of the odd silence that suddenly surrounded him Wei Wuxian turned around.
"Hey! You kicked me! That's not fair!"
"I don't recall anyone asking for the duels to be fair."
"What are you talking about? That's just common sense!"
Jiang WanYin sighed. "Alright, whatever, come at me again. I won't kick you this time."
Wei Wuxian looked at him in a way that clearly stated he was finding something suspicious but stood up again.
"Alright, but this time you come at me."
Jiang WanYin sensed it. How could he not? The way his own brother was actually doubting he was not the real Jiang Cheng. He wondered for a second if it would be better to pretend to be more stupid or whatever it was he had been back then but he was just so tired about this whole situation that he couldn't bring it on himself to fake it and he also felt that it would be extremely disrespectful to act stupid towards Wei Wuxian. 
Jiang WanYin's voice went lower "Well then step inside." If you dare to. Was what was left unsaid but still clear for the both of them.
Wei Wuxian took a step back before gathering himself. There was something very wrong about this Jiang Cheng but at the same time he was unable to point out exactly what. He stepped inside, taking a gulp and strengthening his grip on his sword.
This time, the moment they heard the senior call for the start of the match, Jiang WanYin plunged towards Wei Wuxian, the first hit almost disarms him but he manages to recover and swings back if only to gain some distance. Jiang WanYin saw his brother's panicked face and inwardly sighed. He allowed him to gain some terrain and security before going towards him again. This felt more like teaching Jin Ling a new sparring technique than actual fighting and Jiang WanYin felt again that guilt that would never leave him.
I wonder how well we could fight each other now if he had kept his core.
"Stop looking at me like that! I haven't lost yet!"
The angry note on Wei Wuxian’s voice made Jiang WanYin go back to reality. He had not realized just how much his thoughts had been reflected on his face. Realising he shouldn't hoard the ring for long, he walked towards an edge while Wei Wuxian threw a thrust that he had hastened believing on his immediate victory when Jiang WanYin did a quick turn, leaving the path clear for Wei Wuxian's second fall out of the ring.
"Well!" A calm yet joyous voice came from their side "I think this match has been won by Jiang WanYin!"
The disciples around them bursted in applause. While Jiang WanYin came forward to help his brother up.
"Are you okay?"
"What? Do I look like I need help?"
"No, just asking."
"Shouldn't you be gloating about the fact that you won in front of all the group?"
Jiang WanYin gave his brother a bitter smirk, turned around and bowed towards everyone, acknowledging his victory before turning back towards the spot where he had been watching the rest of the matches, arms crossed, firm stance.
Almost casually, Lan XiChen stood close to Jiang WanYin. A thing he found himself extremely grateful for since it helped a lot to keep Wei Wuxian away from him for the time being and he was definitely not ready to be attacked with questions at all. They watched the next match in silence until at some point both contenders grimaced after clashing their swords in a particularly heavy way.
Lan XiChen expressed a low "Oh" while Jiang WanYin grimaced in solidarity. Sensing the younger’s expression, Lan XiChen ventured with a low voice.
"What do you think about that move, young master Jiang?"
Jiang WanYin snorted "Terrible arm position, I'm surprised they're still trying to go at it. Their muscles will be sore for at least three days."
Lan XiChen hummed in agreement.
"You should stop them before they do something stupid, it's obvious they're just trying to impress you since you don't come here often."
Lan XiChen turned quickly to look at him, surprised at the familiarity with which he had been addressed but he had to agree that following his advice would be for the best. He stepped forward and stopped the kids, giving them encouraging words but also admonishing them about the need to be more careful with their stances and sent them right away to the healer wing.
The next couple of matches were good and uneventful so Jiang WanYin and Lan XiChen remained silent but the more pairs came into the ring, Jiang WanYin couldn't help starting to mutter.
"Those two need to improve their footwork… That boy should better use his dominant hand, there’s no shame in being a leftie… Is that kid from the Nie Sect? He seems to be better suited for a sable… Oh, this one’s just trying to show off his forms, isn’t he?" he snorted “like someone would give a damn about that in a real battle...”
Lan XiChen hummed along with each remark, some of the things Jiang WanYin was commenting on were things he would have not noticed either, especially regarding other sects fighting style but what caught him off guard were the comments regarding battle training. Comments like “too slow, would have his arm cut off before he could make a full turn” were the ones that would have made him wince if he had not been trained with perfect propriety like a true Lan. With each match, he was feeling more and more restless about his companion. 
After the last winner was decided the class gathered to bow towards the senior in charge of them and Lan XiChen and parted towards the dining hall. Jiang WanYin walked towards his brother, realising he had been away from him too long and that they were supposed to be inseparable and soon Nie HuaiSang joined them laughing, he clung himself to Jiang WanYin.
“Dude, that was scary!”
“What was scary?”
“Zewu-Jun? Like, I could have never been able to stand so close to him for so long!”
Wei Wuxian laughed. "What are you talking about? Didn't you see Jiang Cheng? He was so stiff with his arms crossed and everything! Just like a soldier!"
Jiang WanYin gave out a dry laugh. "Yeah, it was putting me on edge."
It was a lie, of course. But how could he explain to his friend that in the middle of all this time traveling madness he had actually felt relief, since it was the most natural thing to stand by his peer? Now that he thought about it though, he also had to give them credit. He suddenly remembered how nervous he used to be anytime he had to stand even two meters away from him. He knew Lan XiChen was only three years older than Lan WangJi but back then it had felt like he was looking at an unattainable being, like gazing at a true immortal. Even at their current time and despite the fact that they pretty much treated each other as peers in general, Jiang WanYin always felt like there was some sort of barrier between them both. He sighed.
The hours after lunch were spent in the classroom. Jiang WanYin had been unable to brush his brother and Nie HuaiSang away, even when he had tried to chide his brother into some trouble just to be able to get away from there. 
"Jiang WanYin!"
He turned towards the front of the class, Lan Qiren looking at him with accusatory eyes. On the other side of the room, Lan WangJi was also peering at him with a look that by now he knew was almost a frown.
Yes, I was not paying attention, so what?
"I'm sorry master, could you repeat the question?"
"I asked about the best way to deal with water ghouls. I thought you were feeling better? I heard that you did great at sword practice."
Listening to master Lan Qiren's concern his teenage self would have goaded at the rest of the class.
"My apologies, master, I'm afraid I might have gone a bit too far and overexerted myself before I was completely recovered."
"You're sick?" Came the soft concern from Wei Wuxian. Jiang WanYin hushed him quickly.
Lan Qiren gave out a soft sigh. "Please go back to your room and meditate, it will be a better use of your time. Check with Nie HuaiSang later for today's topics."
Jiang WanYin cheered inwardly. He stood up and bowed politely. 
"I am grateful for your concern master, I shall take my leave for the day."
When he was far enough from the studying hall, he peeked around and made a turn towards the library. He had glanced at a couple of the tomes Wei Wuxian had had on top of his desk while doing his research so he at least had an idea of where to start.
The good thing about being able to be outside at a time when everyone was busy inside classrooms and halls meant that he didn't find anyone on his way to the still ancient pavilion.
The doors were closed but they were not locked so, after sending a sad look at the magnificent magnolia tree outside that had suffered greatly when the fire started by the Wens happened later, he went inside.
Doing his best trying to keep everything in order, meaning like the books and scrolls had not actually been touched at all, Jiang WanYin went through several documents. Once the light of the evening was not enough he finally moved the ones he had been reading aside and let out a sigh, leaning against the window ledge, rubbing his eyes. 
He was wondering whether it would be wise to light up a candle to keep on going or just call it quits and hope for Wei Wuxian to be working on something on the other side when, somehow, the soft fragrance of Chrysanthemum tea filled his lungs. He inhaled it without a second thought, trying to avoid the headache he was feeling coming.
“Still haven’t found what you’ve been looking for I presume?” A soft voice asked.
“Mn… I don’t even know how on earth Wei Wuxian manages to not even read all this shit but be able to put everything to practice, I...” he stopped his words with a start and lowered his hands, only to find Lan Xichen, standing in front of him with a soft smile, tea tray in hand.
Noticing his Sandu was reclined on a column two arms away from him while Lan XiChen’s Shouyue was perfectly poised at his hip, Jiang WanYin slumped his shoulders with a dejected sound. He then went to pick up the books he had on the table and put them aside to have space for the tea. Lan XiChen sat down graciously in front of him. Jiang WanYin waited for the man to serve him before he finally reached for the cup and took a sip. They drank the first cup in silence. He served the second cup and snorted before taking a sip. 
“I’m such an idiot, letting my guard down while checking everyone’s training.”
Lan XiChen looked at him and took a sip of his tea. “Actually, it was way before that.”
“Oh? Pray do tell.”
“I met my brother early in the morning. He was clearly agitated and told me what you had done pushing Wei WuXian towards him but that was not really what caught my attention.”
He saw Jiang WanYin’s eyes widen in comprehension and then closing them with a frown, he rubbed the middle of his forehead with the tips of his fingers. 
“HanGuang-Jun”
Lan XiChen nodded and took another sip.
“When he turned fifteen, WangJi told me he had begun thinking about a decent title name despite being barely granted his courtesy name. Imagine his surprise when he heard you say a title name he had not even thought about yet.”
“Oh man, what a slip… On my defense, I had not realized where the fuck I was at the time. And don’t make that face with me, there’s no rule saying anything about cursing. Yet.”
Lan XiChen’s face stiffened, he had not stopped smiling but the person in front of him was able to read him well.
“I presume the reason you decided to take the matter in your hands was because you didn’t want your brother to get anywhere near unknown danger then. You know being this kind is the reason you always suffer, don’t you?”
Lan XiChen’s hand twitched on his knees. “Who are you?”
Jiang WanYin glanced at him, he knew this pale face, realized he had gone a bit too far with his stark comments. It was the moment to back off. “I can tell you. But it will depend on you whether you believe me or not.”
Jiang Wanyin sat upright and placed his hands over his knees, properly facing Lan Xichen.
“Greetings, Sect Leader Lan, Zewu-Jun. I am Sect Leader Jiang, Jiang WanYin. Better known as Sandu Shengshou.” He then properly bowed in front of him.
Lan XiChen felt like the moment was elongating itself into eternity. He had not dropped his tea simply because his manners did not allow him to.
“I’m sorry but Sect Leader Jiang...”
“Yes, at this time it should still be Jiang FengMian.”
“Then how… when..?” 
Lan XiChen wanted to get answers but he stopped dead when he saw Jiang WanYin’s eyes fall into darkness.
“Do not mind yourself with those details. All I can say is that I never intended to find myself in this awful situation either but mistakes happen when you have a brother such as Wei WuXian.” Jiang WanYin reclined himself on the wall behind him and rubbed his eyes once more. “I swear to god I’ll kill him someday.”
“Please, stop that.”
“Huh?”
“Stop rubbing your eyes.”
Jiang WanYin groaned. “You always say that. Who cares about that myth that your eyesight goes bad? I’ve had this habit for years and my eyes are still perfectly good.”
Lan XiChen smiled “And yet you still stop.”
“Well obviously. I respect you after all.” Jiang WanYin looked at a letter peeking out from Lan XiChen’s robe. “Is that a Request Letter? You couldn’t find the answer by yourself?”
Lan XiChen looked down at the paper and felt his ears turn red. “How do you..?”
“You still do the same over there. Coming to the library when no one is around to try to find an answer. Also bringing your favourite Chrysanthemum blend means this one’s giving you a headache. Can I see that? Maybe I can help.”
Logic told Lan XiChen that it would be best to refuse since he wasn’t even sure this boy was Jiang WanYin or someone else. But being forced to act as a proper Sect Leader for two years now despite the fact that his father was still alive made him feel like he was stumbling and making a mess of everything, forced to handle everything by himself. In the end he desperately lent on that feeling of relying on someone that he had never found before, trying to please everyone around him. 
Not only that but the way Jiang WanYin had told him about his own habits while he held out his hand in such a personal way made Lan XiChen feel like he was allowed to actually ask for his help. He took the letter and handled it to the man in front of him. Jiang WanYin opened the request and began to read.
“Ah, I see, bloody beasts at the east of the Zhonghua pass. If I recall correctly there are several caves over there huh? No wonder it’s giving you a headache.” He grabbed a piece of paper, brush and ink and began drawing. “I’d recommend you a pincer strategy. Place protective barriers on both sides of the bottleneck road in a two hundred chi radius. Then start barring down the caves on the bottom-east since those are the ones closer to the town. Take at least twenty of your best swordsmen and five archers, seven of them with proper healing knowledge involving open wounds. It’s not gonna be easy considering these things go in packs. You can leave tracing talismans a day before the hunt so you can see which caves they use most and narrow them down. It will still take you at least five days to go through the whole place but this will help avoid any human casualty.”
Jiang WanYin finally looked upwards from the paper and met an image he never imagined he would ever see. Lan XiChen was looking at him completely dumbfounded with an open mouth. He also felt his own face blush and he frowned in defense.
“What? What is it?”
Lan XiChen tried to regain himself “Nothing, nothing it’s just… I’ve had this request for five days now and I've been stressing over it since I didn’t see how to properly handle it and you… How did you come up with this strategy just like that?” 
Jiang WanYin looked aside and shrugged. “Guess I’ve got enough experience now...”
“Jiang WanYin you’re… You’re amazing.”
“Okay that’s it, stop it.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because you’re Zewu-Jun? I’m the one who’s supposed to admire you here! You even saved my life!”
Lan XiChen looked at him dumbfounded. “I saved your life?”
Jiang WanYin felt himself blush again. He sighed and looked aside. He knew he shouldn’t say much but still felt like this was important, and it was easier to tell this Lan XiChen what he could not tell the one he was more familiar with but still detached from. 
“There was a battle. At the north of Qinwei. We were ambushed by our enemies and we made a hasty retreat. I got surrounded by enemies while helping the rest to run away and was pretty sure I was gonna kick it right there when you showed up to help. You had been in hiding for a while back then so it was shocking to see you there but still, you saved my life.” He looked upwards and met Lan XiChen’s eyes. “So thank you for that.”
Lan XiChen was doing some mental calculations, Qinwei was part of the Wen territory so it meant they would eventually go to war with the Wens. Knowing that he wouldn’t get enough information from the man in front of him he just slotted away this information for when it would be of importance. “I haven’t done anything yet.”
“Well, if you do. When you do. I won’t say much about it. But I’m still grateful to this day so that’s why I’m saying it right now.” Jiang WanYin looked downwards, and suddenly looked fairly interested on the porcelain cups in front of him. He frowned. “I always forget to get you the Pink Lotus Set. I should note it down for next time.”
Lan XiChen felt his smile broaden, he kept wondering just what kind of relationship he had with this man, hopefully they were close friends. If not, he was going to do his best to make him understand he would very much like to be close to him, seeing how much consideration he had towards his personal likes and tastes.
“So far I can understand that even though you are Jiang WanYin, you are not the same Jiang WanYin of the present but of days to come. Can I ask how far?”
Jiang WanYin looked at him and frowned. “Does it matter?”
“Can’t a man be curious?”
Jiang WanYin sighed but only rested a hand over his knee. “I’m thirty six years old.”
Lan XiChen’s eyes widened. No wonder this man had solved a problem he was struggling so much with such ease. He was currently looking at a man with eighteen years of experience ahead of him. Something inside his gut twisted but he could not pin down what it truly meant at the moment.
“Well, as much as I’d love to keep chatting with you, I’m gonna take my leave.”
Jiang WanYin said while grabbing the documents he had taken and walking towards their corresponding place.
“I thought you would try to investigate more.”
“I’m fed up with this and I bet Wei Wuxian is fretting over there to get me back so I’ll just wait. The array was still on it’s testing phase so I also believe it’s effects won’t last long.”
Lan XiChen huffed, the equivalent of a snort in his proper Lan behaviour and looked at the man sort everything with an ease that told he was extremely used to the order within this library. Lan XiChen looked at Jiang WanYin work while he thought for a while about their chat.
“You said there’s going to be a battle in Qinwei.” 
“I did, yes.”
“So that means there’s going to be a war.”
“A battle is a battle, it means nothing.”
“I, yes, but if you know about the events to come, don’t you feel like it would be best if you tried to do or change something… Anything, about it?”
“No.”
“But…”
“I SAID NO!”
Lan XiChen jumped when the man slammed a book against a column. He was only able to see his back but even from where he was standing he was clearly able to see that Jiang WanYin was trembling. Lan XiChen immediately shut his mouth, realizing his mistake. It took Jiang WanYin over five minutes before he could open his mouth once more. It had been a relief that he didn’t have Zidian at hand.
“How dare you ask me that?” He began with a low, cracked voice. “How dare you ask me that when every time, every single time I’ve made a choice or taken a decision all things have turned to the worse!?”
Jiang WanYin turned towards Lan XiChen, who went stiff the moment he caught a glimpse of an expression so full of sadness and despair that clutched his own heart. He stomped towards Sandu and took it up before turning again to face the other man.  
“Look, I fucked up, and my life got fucked up and heavens forbid I fuck things up even more just by trying to set things right. You might be young and hopeful and maybe you don’t get it but I still have a few menial things to cling on to and I won’t let them go so fast.” Jian WanYin paused for a moment to take a breath and calm down a bit more. “Sect Leader Lan.” He bowed and turned to walk through the door.
Lan XiChen saw the figure of the man stroll away from the building and, feeling like it was not right to let him leave in those terms, he ran to reach him. He had not stepped too far away, Jiang WanYin was looking at the magnolia tree with a sad, nostalgic glance. Lan XiChen approached him with care, almost afraid he would run away like a wounded, scared animal. He didn’t know what to say to keep him there so he threw at him the first thought that went through his mind.
“How about my life then?”
Jiang WanYin turned to face him, still with that frown that he could tell now was not because of anger but of frustration and regret.
“What?”
“You say you don’t dare change anything about your life but what about mine? Isn’t there anything you think I could do to change certain things to come?”
Jiang WanYin gave him a long assessing look, then looked back at the magnolia tree and sighed after a while.
“Fill your library as soon as possible with as many qiankun bags you think you’d need to save all the books inside. You’ll need them to avoid them dying in the fire.”
Lan XiChen was about to open his mouth once more but a glance from the other man told him best to keep his mouth shut. Jiang WanYin turned around to start his way to the dormitories but didn’t move. He took another breath.
“Also...” he paused. More than what should have been enough but Lan XiChen stood patiently. “It would do you good to remember at all times that kindness is not equal to honour; and you should never give away all of your heart, lest you wish to end up losing it entirely.”
Lan XiChen frowned but did nothing to stop the man when he walked away from him. He had indeed given him some advice although, considering his own personality, he wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a general recommendation for all the years to come or meant to be about a person in particular. Or both.
He went back to the library to grab the forgotten tea tray and decided to wait until the following day to ask Jiang WanYin, he clearly needed some time to cool down.
The following day he saw the chaotic trio composed of Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng and Nie HuaiSang doing a ruckus right before class started. All three stopped their upheaval when they caught sight of him and did their best to stand upright. 
“Good morning, young master Nie, young master Jiang, young master Wei.”
“Zewu-Jun” 
The three boys saluted politely but obviously restless. He hovered over for a moment too long at Jiang WanYin who began to look rather nervous.
“How are you feeling today, young master Jiang?”
He noticed Jiang WanYin’s cheeks turn a slight tone of pink along with a face that betrayed his inner thoughts of wanting to be one hundred steps away from Lan XiChen rather than actually face him.
“B-Better! I’m… I’m feeling better, Zewu-Jun. Thank you for your concern.”
Lan XiChen gave him another long look and sighed a bit dejected although his smile never left his face.
“Very well, if you do feel like you need some rest please do tell me.”
“Yes! Thank you, Zewu-Jun.”
With that, the boys entered the classroom while Lan XiChen waited to see that every student had gathered. He looked at the bright blue sky.
So you went back to the future. I’m glad for you, Jiang WanYin.
Jiang WanYin opened up his eyes and groaned, his body ached as if he had run and done training for an entire week and his head felt foggy. Slowly, he began to hear the sound of a voice that sounded odd yet known and saw a shadow in front of what looked like candlelight hovering over him.
“—ng! Jiang cheng!”
He extended his arm towards the place where he saw the shadow and surely felt his hand being held by two more slender ones that held him tight and then something cold hitting his cheek from above.
Tears.
“W-Wei…”
“Yes! Yes! That’s me! Wei Ying! Can you hear me? Can you see me? Jiang Cheng? Please answer me!”
“Urgh, stop shouting, my head...”
He felt his hand being released but soon the hand holding was replaced by a tight hug and more sobs.
“Oh, thank heavens! I was so scared! You were not breathing anymore and I thought… I thought...”
Jiang WanYin felt his brother's words falter for a moment.
“How could I have ever faced Shijie again!?”
“How, indeed...”
Jiang WanYin felt his brother shudder and then lose himself in a barrage of uncontrollable sobs. Feeling kind of bad he lifted his tired arms and held him back. He was still feeling disoriented and thus didn’t do much to move away from the tight lock his brother had him in. After some time that he could not really measure he looked around and saw Lan WangJi sitting aside, guqin hovering over his knees. He tried to focus his eyes on him. 
“How… How long was I gone?”
“It’s almost time for sleep.”
“...Same day, I presume?”
“Mn.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly, Wei Wuxian tore apart from his lying brother who was not really going to admit was feeling a little dejected from the separation, ripped his tears away with his sleeve and began to see if his body had any injury of sorts. Lan WangJi stood up, leaving his instrument aside and sat beside Jiang WanYin, taking his wrist and starting a spiritual check up. Jiang WanYin coughed a little bit.
“I told you some things were best left alone.”
Wei Wuxian let out a choked laugh.
“Yes, yes you did. You’re so smart sometimes.”
“I honestly can’t tell if you’re making fun of me.”
Jiang WanYin heard a distinct sob being held back and sighed. He turned to face Lan WangJi and focused as best as he could on him. 
“I feel like literal shit. Just knock me down, please?” 
Lan WangJi’s eyes widened enough that he could tell he was astonished by his request.
“Haha, yeah, there’s a first for everything I guess.” 
Still, he was not knocked down anytime soon. At least not until both men had decided he was generally okay. Only then did Lan WangJi press his spiritual energy on the man who did his best to allow the intrusion in order to lead himself towards a dreamless sleep.
When he woke up again, he could see that the ceiling of the room he was in had dark beams and rays of sunshine entering peacefully through a window out of sight. He rolled over to his side and saw an open door with a view he had never seen before. He groaned, his body felt better but he felt an odd pressure on his head.
“Good morning, Sect Leader Jiang.”
He knew the owner of that voice, he could almost see the face that accompanied it smiling.
“Can you really call it morning, Zewu-Jun?”
There was a clear, amused laugh “We’re close to midday but not there yet.”
Jiang WanYin did his best to get up but a pair of strong hands kept him down, he finally saw the owner of the voice in front of him.
“Please don’t strain yourself, Wei Wuxian went for food for you, completely free of chillies I trust.”
“Mn...” Jiang WanYin looked around “Where are we?”
“This is the Hanshi.”
“Why did they bring me here?”
Lan XiChen could see Jiang WanYin doing his best to understand but his brain was still foggy.
“It is much closer to the Jingshi than the healer's wing at the other side of the compound. And no, you were no bother.” He said, finally understanding Jiang Cheng’s real question. “I just arrived a couple of hours ago from a business trip, so the place was free for you to rest.”
“It’s still your room.”
“Mn, Wei Wuxian was not allowing anyone to take you away so WangJi decided to put you here because Wei Wuxian needed to rest as well. He almost loses all his spiritual energy trying to keep you alive.” Lan XiChen turned his gaze away from the man to another corner of the room. 
“I was about to prepare some tea, would you like some?”
“Yes please, my throat is… I can use some tea.”
Lan XiChen hummed in a way that Jiang WanYin could definitely tell was more of a chuckle coming from the man.
Soon enough, he arrived back, placed a tray for both of them and sat by the edge of the bed. He helped Jiang WanYin get up and placed a cup of tea on his hands. He also helped him drink it when he noticed that his hands were slightly trembling. Jiang WanYin sighed, the tea was doing a lot to make him feel better.
“How do you feel?”
“Like I drank eleven jars of Emperor’s Smile and then got the genius idea of getting trampled by a hundred fierce corpses.”
Lan XiChen couldn’t stop himself and let out an honest laugh.
“I am very sorry to hear that, but it still is better than the other option.”
“...Did I almost die?”
“I was told by Wei Wuxian that the moment the array stopped flashing you collapsed, your vitals were still functioning but the problem was that your soul was nowhere to be found… The real problem began a few hours later.”
Jiang WanYin processed the information Lan XiChen was providing. “The vital functions stopped working.”
Lan XiChen nodded. “Wei Wuxian had obviously started to work on the array to bring you back but it apparently took some time for it to find you.”
Jiang WanYin groaned and rubbed his eyes “No wonder he was so panicked. Well, at least it was me and not any other poor soul.”
Lan XiChen’s smile went sour. “Please don’t do that.”
“Can’t a man rub his eyes in peace?”
“I don’t mean that.”
“Huh?” This time Jian WanYin stopped rubbing his eyes and looked at his Lan counterpart.
“Please stop diminishing your own self like this.”
Jiang WanYin jerked back and frowned. He would have spat something aggressive at anyone else but this was Zewu-Jun, not just anyone. Since he was unable to counterattack he looked aside, clearly feeling his cheeks burn.
Lan XiChen sighed “I, for one, am grateful that you’re alive. It means that I didn’t save your life for nothing back in Qinwei.”
Jiang WanYin looked at the man suspiciously.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Have you asked yourself if you actually went back in time?”
“Well, it’s not like I’ve got enough time to do that yet...”
Lan XiChen looked at him for a while and then looked down at his hands, neatly stacked over his knees. He took a deep breath. “When I went into hiding I was gone from everyone’s sight but I was still well informed of what was going on at the battlefront thanks to a-Yao.”
Jiang WanYin looked at the man wary, ever since he left his year of seclusion he had not willingly talked about anything related to Jin GuangYao unless pressed by other people. And when he did, he tried his best to avoid saying his name out loud and yet right now he was calling him in the same fashion he used to do when he was his sworn brother. Jiang WanYin wasn’t sure why he had chosen to do so, even less why particularly in front of him but couldn’t really dare to ask. 
“There was this time when we were told you had decided to take over Qinwei. I was in LanLing.”
Jiang WanYin, who had kept his gaze low, snapped his head upwards to face Lan XiChen.
“You were in LanLing!? Then how did you even show up all the way in...” Jiang WanYin’s voice slowly faded into nothing, his mind working at a hundred miles per hour.
Lan XiChen nodded. “Many people wonder about the fact that we managed to salvage and recreate our Library up to a fault and consider it a miracle. But it was thanks to you that we managed to do so in the first place. I needed to repay what I owed you. When I remembered your prediction about the battle on Qinwei I knew I couldn’t stay where I was. Your very life was in the line that day.”
“No offense, Sect Leader Lan, but I don’t think that exposing yourself to the Wens when everyone was after you in order to save a stupid brat just because he helped you save a bunch of scrolls was the wisest thing to do.”
“No offense, Sect Leader Jiang, but those bunches of scrolls are an invaluable heritage of my sect. It may have been just paper but they hold the knowledge of all my ancestors. It was well worth risking everything to save you in order to repay such immense debt.”
Jiang WanYin looked away flustered. It was hard for him to accept even the slightest type of praise, it was even harder when it came from someone as high as Zewu-Jun.
“Why are you bringing all of this up now anyway? It’s not like I wanted you to thank me or anything… Actually, how many years has it been for you now since that talk? How could you remember any of that!?”
Lan Xichen smirked “Ah, that must be because the person itself is a very difficult person to forget about, but also because by now you have already saved not only my Sect heritage but also my own self.”
Jiang WanYin frowned “What do you mean?”
“You also gave me two pieces of personal advice, remember?”
Jiang WanYin widened his eyes and looked at his lap, unable to face the other man. “Kindness is not equal to Honour.”
Lan XiChen hummed “And never to give away all of my heart.”
Jiang WanYin stayed silent, his gaze fixed on the tiny stitches that bordered his blanket. He was not sure what to say about that. He was not even sure whether Lan XiChen wanted him to say anything at all. 
“This is why I say you have saved my own self.”
This time, it was Jiang WanYin the one who sighed. His voice came out defeated. 
“You still suffered a lot.”
“Yes. I did… But had you not given me your advice, I fear I would not have survived at all.”
Jiang WanYin sent Lan XiChen a clearly skeptical look. Lan XiChen gave him a kind smile and looked away towards the open entrance of his room trying to come up with enough words to explain but not burden his guest with his own shadows.
“Losing my sworn brothers was hard. Being forced to deal with what I did to a-Yao, even after seeing what he had done was even harder. And yet, despite all the grief in my heart, I was able to get over the worst part after a year.” He looked back to Jiang WanYin. “And it was thanks to you.”
Jiang WanYin looked aside once more. He felt oppressed by the amount of sincerity the other man was showing him. “As I said...”
“Still. Please allow me to tell you what I couldn’t back then. What I had to hide for years now.”
Lan XiChen took Jiang WanYin’s hand and pulled them softly to force the other man to look at him.
“Thank you.”
Jiang WanYin frowned even harder and looked away. Unable to come up with a proper response. Lan XiChen took another breath and kept talking before he lost his chance.
“There’s something else. Sect Leader Jiang, we have known each other for so long and shared so many things. I… I wish that we could become friends.” 
Jiang WanYin turned to look at Lan XiChen startled, he didn’t know what he was expecting from this man but that definitely had not been part of the things he thought Lan XiChen would want to discuss with him. Ever.
“Please, stop thinking so high of me. I’m only a man. And I need a friend.”
“...I don’t think I could ever be the kind of friend Zewu-Jun needs.”
“Maybe, but you’re the kind of friend Lan XiChen needs.” Lan XiChen gave him a nervous, almost shy smile. “Sect Leader Jiang, can I call you Jiang WanYin?”
“I… Zewu-Jun…”
“Please, call me Lan XiChen.”
Jiang WanYin felt his face burn, he fixed his eyes on their intertwined hands. “L-Lan XiChen.”
Lan XiChen beamed, finally letting go of Jiang WanYin’s hand.
“It feels great to finally hear my name coming from your lips.”
Jiang WanYin paused for a second before going through Lan XiChen’s last statement. 
“Wait, what?”
Lan XiChen looked at him questioningly when he finally processed the last words he had said and immediately blushed wildly. A thing Jiang WanYin would have never imagined he would be able to witness in his entire life.
Almost as if on cue, they heard Wei Wuxian singing, clearly getting near the hanshi and finally showing up at the door.
“Ah! Jiang Cheng, my beautiful brother, you’re finally up! Good, good, I brought you food!”
“Did you prepare it? I don’t want to get poisoned after being so close to death’s door, I don’t think I could handle it.”
Wei Wuxian laughed earnestly “If this kills you in any way it will be because of the lack of flavor.”
Lan XiChen stepped up and made way for Wei Wuxian to sit and put his tray in place of the tea. He immediately sat down taking over the empty spot and grabbed a bit of the herb porridge with a spoon. 
“Alright, say ah~”
“The hell—!? Do you think I’m a baby or something? Give me that spoon right now!”
“No can’t do. You’re recovering and I’m here to help you recover. Now open up.”
“Wei Wuxian I swear to the gods that—”
“Jiang WanYin, your brother was terribly worried for you, maybe you could allow him to care for you?”
Jiang WanYin turned to look at Lan XiChen with a look that openly screamed betrayal. After he pondered his options he finally relented. 
“Fine, but I don’t wanna hear any of you talk about this or I swear I’ll break your legs.”
He opened up his mouth for Wei Wuxian who cheered and carefully began to feed his little brother. Meanwhile, Lan XiChen disappeared from their sight to clean the teapot and cups in order to try to calm his nervousness after his own slip. Falling into the motions of cleaning he began to hum a song. It was a sinuous, rather complex song. Just like the person that had inspired it in a library many years ago. 
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satan-chillin · 3 years
Text
Hereafter (3/7)
Wei Wuxian is sent off of Cloud Recesses, bade by his fathers to “have fun and make friends” which, now that he thinks about it, sounds like a gross oversimplification of what the next six months away from home will entail.
If he happens to form unlikely connections, start a matchmaking, and gets unwittingly involved in the presently strained political state of the cultivation world, those are just par for the course.
Chasing after one of the famed Twin Jades of Lan, however, is an added bonus.
(Or, WWX was sent to Gusu by his fathers Wen Kexing & Zhou Zishu)
Part 2 of Spirited Away Series. Part 1 here.
Also available in Ao3. Hereafter Chapter 1, 2
❆❆❆
The scowl Jiang Wanyin was throwing at him was really uncalled for.
“Is that face supposed to be anger on my behalf or...”
Jiang Wanyin scoffed. “You wish. You’re obviously in the wrong here.”
Wei Wuxian was tempted to smack him if his back wasn’t aching (and itching) as hell. He rolled his eyes. “Throw me in the ditch, will you. At least Nie-xiong thinks—ow!”
“Don’t move much,” came Nie Huaisang’s warning from the other side before dabbing a wet cloth at his back. Wei Wuxian was pretty sure they were both wincing. “And, well, you were guilty for taking the sacred Lan forehead ribbon, Wei-xiong.”
“Fine,” Wei Wuxian grumbled. “In my defense, I didn’t know it’s that important. Are those ribbons made from special silk or something?”
“It has always been part of their tradition,” Jiang Wanyin said, crossing his arms unrepentantly. “Even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else outside their sect, we respect that as their guests.”
Chastised, Wei Wuxian pouted but did not retort. He understood Jiang Wanyin’s point, and he could imagine a-die’s disapproval that he might have taken it a little too far. Wei Wuxian let the matter go. “Fine, that’s on me, but I didn’t start the fighting!”
He was certain that he had planned to get some air the previous evening to lull his bones to sleep. He’d been delighted, in fact, when Lan Zhan had pulled up short, though he seemed to have gotten it in his head that Wei Wuxian was due for a punishment and not even the fun kind. All that for sleeping late as if Lan Zhan hadn’t been doing the very same thing, and pointing it out broke a bit of that surface calm that had Wei Wuxian defending himself the next moment (or trying not to get hauled, really).
The ruckus and noise that followed resulted in… this.
He hadn’t been disciplined this bad since a-die had him running twenty laps around the manor. He was also sure that the only one suffering was him; Lan Zhan being a Lan was definitely used to this, though he would have to have been unruly himself to develop a thick skin to withstand the strikes.
Wei Wuxian was hard-pressed not to think too much of a porcelain back lined with red—er, not in present company, at least.
“What’s that expression for?” Jiang Wanyin asked haltingly.
“Heh. Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“That better not be another trouble in your mind. Look, carrying you back once is enough. I’m not looking forward to doing that again.”
“Speak for yourself. Nie-xiong can carry me.”
“Ah.” NIe Huaisang chuckled nervously. “I’m not exactly as strong as Wanyin to do it often, Wei-xiong.”
“See?”
“Pft. You’re just jealous you’re not the one being tended right now.”
“What’s that supposed to—A-jie!”
Wei Wuxian found enough energy to turn around towards the ajar door and found a young woman entering with a tray of food that smelled delectable. Jiang Wanyin closed the door behind her and helped her down to where he previously sat.
“Good morning, Young Master Wei. I apologize for barging in like this, but I heard what happened from A-Cheng and thought to bring some soup over,” she said kindly. “It’s a shame that we haven’t been introduced before. My name is Jiang Yanli.”
Wei Wuxian hid a grimace as he sat up and pulled his thin robe over. It wouldn’t do to appear indecent in front of a young lady. He bowed as low as he could. “It’s an honor to meet Maiden Jiang, even if this one is unfit for the company of a maiden.”
He knew he liked Maiden Jiang when she returned his smile brightly, waving off his apology before serving him a bowl of what she called lotus soup. “I’m guessing the three of you haven’t had the morning meal,” she addressed the three of them. “I made enough for us.”
Jiang Wanyin wasn’t exaggerating when he had called his elder sister good-natured, and it was clear why he loved and admired her greatly. She reminded Wei Wuxian of shijie Xiaolian, in fact, with both their caring and motherly nature. She closely treated Nie Huaisang like another younger brother, and based on how concerned she was over Wei Wuxian’s back and empathetic of his situation, she was probably considering him as a new addition.
Wei Wuxian wouldn’t mind, to be honest, but Jiang Wanyin probably would.
“Don’t spoil him much, A-jie,” he reminded her once she began peeling lotus seeds for Wei Wuxian. “He can move his hands.”
“I don’t mind,” Jiang Yanli told him gently. “A friend of A-Cheng is my friend too. Besides, this is the first time I’ve met the person you speak highly of.”
Wei Wuxian snickered at the sudden red on Jiang Wanyin’s cheeks. “Aiya, Jiang-xiong, you never told me,” he couldn’t resist teasing. He inclined his head. “You know, I never quite figured out why you seemed opposed to me spending time with Nie-xiong before, but I think I know now why.”
“If the next thing that will come out of your mouth is another nonsense you can forget it,” Jiang Wanyin replied shortly before offering to clean up and marching out with the dirty dishes. Nie Huaisang excused himself, muttering about fetching another basin of warm water but following Jiang Wanyin’s direction.
Maiden Jiang smiled impishly after them, eyes alight with something like a secret only she was privy of. Once left alone with her, Wei Wuxian stood, not without difficulty, and set about making a pot of tea for her. She looked startled and was about to protest about not needing to be served but thought better of it once she considered their new distance where she now sat across from him. If it was even possible, her ever-present smile softened. She thanked him, both for the cup of tea and his thoughtfulness.
“A-Cheng can be prickly to most,” she began conversationally, “but he’s a good person who finds it hard to express himself. Before, he only had A-Sang who was determined not to be shaken off. I’m glad he has you now too.”
Wei Wuxian grinned toothily then sighed, feigning disappointment. “To be fair, Maiden Jiang, when he told me about you, I thought he wasn’t actually picturing his sister,” he mock-whispered. “Now, though, I understand that you racked up all the patience and left him a sour grape.”
Her clear tinkling laugh was infectious. “I suppose that makes him more suitable for our colors,” she jested. “But you haven’t seen A-Cheng with his dogs, Young Master Wei. He loves them dearly, and they’re his first friends. They must be missing him as much as he misses them.”
“Ah, dogs,” Wei Wuxian repeated weakly. They must be as nice as Maiden Jiang, and Jiang Wanyin, thought of them, but he couldn’t help but repress a shudder. “Are they… cute?” he asked lamely.
“They are. Energetic and very cuddly too.” Maiden Jiang—bless her soul—did not point out the abrupt awkwardness. “I love them as well, but I find that I’m partial to cats. A-sang once brought one with him from Qinghe when he visited us.”
Cats were alright, he thought. There had been a female tabby that his shixiong liked to feed and had shown Wei Wuxian her kittens when he was a child. It had been one of his early memories in the manor, and he told as much to Maiden Jiang who happily listened about his childhood at Four Seasons. It was likely that she knew as much as her brother, though she made no mention of it, telling him instead about her days as a little girl in Lotus Pier and how she had taken up culinary, learning from the head of the kitchen who had been like a grandmother to her.
“Young Master Wei,” she said, “I’d prefer it if you call me Yanli.”
“Only if you call me A-Xian.”
“Very well… A-Xian.”
❆❆❆
Although he was a little better, Wei Wuxian was embarrassingly waddling come afternoon. To make matters worse, he had the misfortune to come across some sniggering peers who followed a haughty-looking young master who barely spared Wei Wuxian a glance before walking the path without pause.
Unexpectedly, though, Jiang Wanyin took a minute to properly greet the young master who merely acknowledged it with a curt nod. Rude.
Wei Wuxian raised an eyebrow. Jiang Wanyin simply muttered, “Prancing peacock.”
“You know him?”
“Who doesn’t?” He rolled his eyes. “Right. That’s Jin Zixuan.”
“I gathered as much,” came the dry reply. Wei Wuxian had made it his mission to memorize as many names as he was able, and he had started with the names of the heirs of the major sects. “I never thought you knew him personally since I’ve never seen him with you or Nie-xiong. I guess you sect heirs have an inner circle.”
“Would’ve been better if we only knew each other in passing,” Jiang Wanyin huffed. Annoyed, he supplied, “He’s A-jie’s betrothed.”
Wei Wuxian blinked at the direction where Jin Zixuan and his lackeys disappeared to. “Huh.”
He had only met Yanli earlier, but already he felt a protectiveness toward her; such a lovely and kind person better be treasured by her future spouse.
Wei Wuxian’s eyes darted once he caught sight of white from his periphery. He noticed Zewu-jun approaching, smiling. “Young Master Wei, Young Master Jiang.”
He could only return the greeting in embarrassment. He hoped that smile wasn’t a dig at his state; after all, he did commit what must have been comparable to a crime to his younger brother.
Gods, that sounded dirty.
Lan Xichen, blissfully unaware of what was going on inside Wei Wuxian’s head, said, ”I honestly did not expect to see you moving about today, but I’m glad to see you well enough to walk.” As if sensing Wei Wuxian wanting to say that it hurt all over, he added, sounding apologetic. “Uncle is strict, but his punishment is worse than necessary. It can take you a week and a half to completely heal.”
Wei Wuxian internally winced. While he wasn’t overly enthusiastic with the lectures—oh, he loved learning, and, truly, that was the only thing motivating him to wake up early and tolerate Lan Qiren’s droning voice—he really didn’t need the dent on his studies.
“I’ll let you know of a place that will help you heal faster so you won’t fall behind in your schooling,” Lan Xichen said. “Nonetheless, I’m pleased to see that Young Master Wei is being taken care of by his friends.”
“It’s kind of Nie-xiong to tend my wounds,” Wei Wuxian said happily. “Young Master Jiang might be getting a little fed up, but I admire his patience, and because of him I get to know Maiden Jiang and her cooking.” He nodded sagely, completely aware of Jiang Wanyin’s growing embarrassment. “I also believe that he’s waiting for me to heal to beat my ass for getting spoiled by his sister and Nie-xiong.”
It was funny how Jiang Wanyin struggled between wanting to throttle him and smack his back and debating whether it was worth it to do either or both in front of the esteemed Zewu-jun.
❆❆❆
The place Lan Xichen mentioned was a stream by the backhills, easy to miss with the light mist that surrounded it. A cold soak could be what he needed.
Wei Wuxian ambled by the bank, untying his belt but stopped when he caught movement in the water. He squinted.
It was Lan Zhan. Naked from waist up.
“What are you doing here?”
He was also murderously glaring at him.
“Zewu-jun told me about this place.” Wei Wuxian cleared his throat, his eyes admittedly lingering at the expanse of skin that seemed to go on indefinitely… and where angry red marks marred his back. As someone who was inflicted with the same punishment, Wei Wuxian knew it was as bad as it felt.
He reached for his sleeve, taking out a small pouch. “Believe me when I say I didn’t know—” He fell silent. He wasn’t planning to return it this soon; later, maybe, after his bath. “I shouldn’t have snatched your ribbon. I’m sorry.”
A flurry of pale cloth completely hid Lan Zhan’s torso from his sight, though he still refused to turn in Wei Wuxian’s direction. He sighed, removing the fan from his waist and propping his sword by a rock. Hesitantly, Wei Wuxian dipped his toe on the water, shivering at the frigid contact.
His soaked robes weighed him down as he trudged further into the cold water, slowing at the progressively slippery smooth stones under his bare feet. He bit his lip, grateful that Lan Zhan’s back was on him or else he’d see how utterly ungraceful he was just to reach him.
“Here,” he said awkwardly, extending the pouch. Lan Zhan determinedly ignored him, though there was an unmistakable pinking at the tip of his ears. Not knowing what to make of it, Wei Wuxian clicked his tongue and clarified, “I have your ribbon inside.” He frowned suddenly, feeling an odd shift in the water. “Wait. Lan Zhan, do you feel that?”
As soon as the words left him, a strong current took him by his ankles, dragging him underwater, and Wei Wuxian knew no more.
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needtherapy · 4 years
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How It Begins: Xichen Remembers
A story for Xichen, who doesn’t remember their first kiss (because he was drunk), but definitely remembers this one (because Mingjue isn’t one to let things move slowly).
This is Part 2 of the series, but you CAN read them alone. Part 1 is here. Part 3 is here. Please note: Parts 2 and 3 are explicit.
Read more Kristina Writes Tiny Stories
Please note: This one is explicit (it has sexy times). It’s also on AO3 here.
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Xichen woke with a start. His back hurt, probably, he realized, because he was laying on the floor, and his teeth felt...furry. It was not a sensation he could remember having experienced in his seventeen years. He sat up and looked around. This wasn’t his room?
And then he remembered.
This was not his room.
His eyes flew to the table where the bottles of wine still sat. Oh. No. He closed his eyes, working up the nerve to see if his memory was correct about whose room this was, but then he heard a voice.
“You’re awake.”
Oh. No.
Xichen opened his eyes to face his consequences.
Nie Mingjue was sitting on the floor in front of his bed, long legs stretched out in front of him, arms crossed, watching Xichen with a guarded expression.
“Nie Mingjue, I...uh...apologize for...whatever…I do not remember...but I am sorry...” Xichen was babbling. He never babbled. What was wrong with his mouth? Mingjue’s expression narrowed, considering.
“Lan Xichen, you don’t remember? Anything?” Nie Mingjue asked incredulously, and Xichen shook his head miserably, certain he had just spent his last night in Lotus Pier embarrassing himself in front of his new friend.
They’d arrived at the home of the Yunmeng Jiang sect for summer cultivation instruction three months ago, and there had been something about Nie Mingjue that Xichen had immediately liked. He was so different from everyone Xichen knew. Nie Mingjue always moved with such purpose and intensity, his face showing every thought, from irritation at the frogs to raw pleasure when he beat Xichen sparring (which was strangely the same pleasure he showed when Xichen beat him), to relaxation when Xichen played the guqin. He had a temper and rarely hesitated to jump into a brawl, swinging big fists with enthusiasm. But he had also used those same hands to show Xichen the intricacies of how to braid his hair in proper Nie fashion, his fingers quick and sure against Xichen’s scalp.
Xichen particularly admired Nie Mingjue’s sense of justice and how fiercely protective he was of his friends. Other disciples who had come to Lotus Pier for cultivation learned very quickly not to poke fun at anyone within Nie Mingjue’s hearing. He did not allow it. 
On their last night in Lotus Pier, Xichen had wanted to do something memorable. He knew he wasn’t supposed to drink. Shufu had always warned him that alcohol was especially bad for the Lan family, so he had turned down every offered bottle of wine all summer. But he had thought trying something new with his new friend made sense. It would be fun. And, a small part of him whispered, it might make him brave. The look on Mingjue’s face when he had opened the door had immediately erased the anxiety of sneaking bottles of wine into Lotus Pier.
It was that smile. All of Mingjue’s smiles were rare and fleeting, but there was one Xichen thought of as his true smile. It was wide and filled his eyes, pressing sharp creases into his cheeks that Xichen wanted to touch. That smile made every risk worthwhile.
But then he had drank just one cup of wine and everything else was a fuzzy blur. He thought he remembered water and light and pine. Did he climb a tree?“Ah, Lan Xichen, you had a very interesting night,” Nie Mingjue said slowly, an unusually disappointed frown on his face. “I’m sorry you don’t remember it.”
“Please do not tell me.” Xichen experimented with standing, and found that it was doable, if not exceptionally steady. “I would like to pretend that I remained calm and composed throughout my entire time at Lotus Pier.”
Nie Mingjue stood as well, laughing and shaking his head. “Xichen-xiong, you should have gone home a day earlier.” Stepping closer to Xichen and looking down at him, he added, quite seriously, “Will I see you again?” Looking up to meet Nie Mingjue’s eyes, Xichen’s stomach lurched, and he hoped it wasn’t still the effect of last night’s poor decision, although the alternative was no more comforting.
“Of course, Nie Mingjue,” Xichen answered, trying to read the look on his friend’s face. “You are welcome to...Oh!” He suddenly remembered that he had been intending to give Nie Mingjue an entry token for Cloud Recesses. Hunting through his sleeves, he pulled out a round jade token. “This will grant you entry to Cloud Recesses any time.”
He held out the token on his palm, and to his surprise, Nie Mingjue grinned. He cupped Xichen’s hand with his and slid the token into his own palm, fingers brushing against Xichen’s.
“Thank you, Xichen,” he said slowly, voice deepening just slightly.
This time, Xichen knew exactly what the clench in his core meant, and he almost couldn’t force his face to return the smile or his feet to move him out the door and back to the safety of his room.
Xichen tried to forget the feeling on the trip back to Gusu Lan. He had been surprised and delighted to see shufu waiting for him at the dock with Lan Wangji. He had wanted to hug them, but his brother was at that age where being hugged was definitely not allowed, so he had merely bowed in greeting. He could tell Wangji was curious about this oddly loud and humid place, so he spent the entire journey up the mountain talking about Lotus Pier, from the spicy food to the noisy frogs to the strange customs.
“They eat the flowers, Wangji. And they drink every night. All of them!” he told his brother, whose eyebrows lifted in disbelief.
With life back to normal in Cloud Recesses, it was easier for Xichen to forget about the curve in Nie Mingjue’s nose and the shape of his eyes and the sound of his laughter. He barely even remembered the tan of his skin or the sound of his breathing when they sparred.
Until the messenger from Bujing Shi arrived three weeks later.
Xichen never actually saw the messenger, but shufu relayed the request. Would Cloud Recesses send their accomplished disciples, Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji, to assist with a night hunt of a group of shanxiao that were terrorizing one of the villages?
To shufu’s evident surprise, Xichen argued that it couldn’t possibly be something their help was needed for. Everyone knew the Nie were more than capable of protecting Qinghe Nie territory. But all he got was shufu’s agreement that Wangji did not need to accompany him. Xichen briefly considered asking his father to overrule shufu, but he knew it would be an act of futility. His father didn’t care what went on in the world anymore. He would just agree with shufu.
So Xichen went where he was told, regardless of the anxiety churning in his stomach the entire way.
Bujing Shi was, in its own way, more strange than Lotus Pier. It was a stark and rocky landscape with a high-walled fortress that looked like it had been dropped in place by a giant. Xichen, who lived on a mountain, had never felt so small as he walked up to the gate.
The Nie wall captain greeted him as though he was expected and led him to the Imperial Blade Hall. Inside the walls, Bujing Shi was a geometric maze of pale, elegant buildings and wide streets that bustled with people. Xichen was apprehensive at the thought of meeting Nie-zongzhu, who he had heard legends of, but it was not the sect leader who was waiting in the Hall.
It was Nie Mingjue.
Xichen had been raised on manners, so the bow flowed naturally from his body, formality always a welcome retreat from the alarming jangle of his nerves.
“Nie-xiong, it is a pleasure to see you again,” he murmured, closing his eyes against the sight of Nie Mingjue’s tall, lean form.
“Lan Xichen, I am pleased you could visit Bujing Shi. Did you bring your brother?” As always, Nie Mingjue’s voice was strong and authoritative. Xichen wondered how it would sound softer, closer to his ear, and then forced the thought away.
“Shufu did not think he would be needed here.” Xichen couldn’t resist a curious smile. “We were surprised Qinghe Nie would need either of us.”
Nie Mingjue smiled broadly, leaning toward Xichen and it took all Xichen’s willpower to stand still. “As it happens, Lan Xichen, you were correct. My father has gone to take care of the shanxiao himself. I expect he will be back in a few days. But in case he is not able to subdue them, would you stay until his return?”
Xichen swallowed and nodded, not sure what else he could do.
Nie Mingjue smiled again, the dimples turning his face to mischief. “I can show you to your room. What else would you like to do?”
There was no good answer to that question. “Nie-xiong, I have never been to Bujing Shi. What do you suggest?”
After leaving his things in his room, a surprisingly light and airy space, Xichen followed Nie Mingjue to the stable where his friend ordered two horses saddled. Xichen had no idea where they were going, but he noticed Nie Mingjue had packed saddlebags with food and water skins.
As with nearly everything Xichen had ever seen him do, Nie Mingjue seemed perfectly comfortable riding, sitting with an ease born of a lifetime in the saddle. Xichen had ridden, but it was not easy for him and always made him tense. They traveled up a steep and narrow path, the air cooling as their altitude increased. Nie Mingjue asked Xichen about Cloud Recesses, whether he was glad to go home, if he missed the wide lotus-filled lakes, how his brother was doing, and eventually, Xichen relaxed into the steady motion of the horse.
The rocks and gravel smoothed into grass and eventually a pine forest. Xichen stopped talking to admire the grove of tall trees that darkened the sky above them. Each seemed to be more than a hundred years old and the trees only grew larger the further they rode into the woods. Nie Mingjue finally stopped in front of a long, low wooden building, more like a cabin than a house, Xichen thought, and swiftly dismounted, tying both horses to a rail.
“I brought lunch,” he informed Xichen, slinging the saddlebags over his shoulder and striding away.
At the edge of a glassy pond, Nie Mingjue pulled out a blanket from one of the packs and spread it on the ground, laying on it and tucking his arms under his head to watch the clouds filling the sky.
Xichen could only stare at him in confusion. What were they doing here? He hadn’t felt like he understood anything since the moment he stepped foot into this place. With a sigh, he sat down on the other edge of the blanket.
“What did you bring to eat?” he asked, and Nie Mingue’s pleased smile as he dug through the saddlebags and handed Xichen dumplings sent waves of warmth flowing through Xichen.
“Would you like to know one of the things you did when you were drunk?” he asked Xichen cheerfully, biting into a sticky rice cake. Xichen grimaced, but nodded because Nie Mingjue sounded so delighted to tell him. “You threw rocks into the water. But they skipped over the top. You tried to teach me, but I didn’t understand. I was hoping you would show me again.”
Xichen laughed. He couldn’t help it. He skipped rocks while he was drunk? Maybe it hadn’t been such an embarrassing night after all.
“I would be happy to show you how to skip rocks, Nie-xiong.” Xichen finished his dumpling and stood, walking to the water and looking around for the right sort of rocks. He tucked them into his sleeve as he found them and eventually had a dozen smooth, flat stones. Turning, he found Nie Mingjue following him, watching him carefully.
“Like this,” Xichen said, and demonstrated, holding the rock between his finger and thumb and flicking it at the water with a snap of his wrist. He took Nie Mingjue’s hand to show him how to hold the stone properly and ignored the tantalizing feel of the rough skin, scarred knuckles, and strong hands under his fingers. He helped Nie Minjgue with a practice swing, and then let him try. To his surprise, his friend skipped the first rock he threw, a pleased grin lighting his face.
“Nie-xiong, that is very impressive,” Xichen said, patting Nie Mingjue on the shoulder. “It took me much longer to learn.
Nie Mingjue startled Xichen by firmly grasping his elbow. “Xichen, please call me Mingjue,” he said softly, tipping his head down so he was eye-to-eye with Xichen.
Xichen nodded, unable to reply, but Mingjue didn't let him go.
“Xichen,” he started to say, eyes half closing, and Xichen froze in place. He was suddenly certain that Mingjue intended to kiss him, and even more certain he was going to let him. Not just let him. Want him to. Profoundly want him to.
At that moment, the sky erupted in a thunderous flash of lightning and heavy late summer rain, the fat drops warm on Xichen’s face. Mingjue swore and grabbed Xichen’s hand, pausing only to scoop up the blanket and saddlebags before running to the cabin.
It was only a hundred meters, but they were drenched by the time they got inside. Xichen could feel water trickling down his back, and he tried to wring out his hair with his hands. He swiped at his face and clothes to no avail, looking up only when he heard Mingjue’s soft chuckle.
He was looking at Xichen with an expression of stunned surprise Xichen had never seen before.
“I am not so easily dissuaded,” he remarked to the ceiling, confusing Xichen. But Mingjue just reached out to wrap the blanket he was still holding around Xichen to pull him closer. “Would you like to know what else you did when you were drunk?” he murmured, close enough that his nose briefly brushed Xichen’s.
But Xichen suddenly did know. The moment he smelled the tang of pine in Mingjue’s hair, he remembered exactly what he did.
“I kissed you,” he said softly, hardly believing his own words.
“You did,” Mingjue agreed, reaching up a hand to cup Xichen’s face. “I have thought about it every moment since.”
“Oh,” Xichen said, struggling to think about anything but the feel of Mingjue’s fingers against his skin. “Were they...good thoughts?” The answer seemed like it was going to be yes, but he wanted to be sure.
“Some of them,” Mingjue grinned, the dimples appearing to make Xichen’s heart beat faster. He smoothed his thumb over Xichen’s cheek. “Some of them were definitely not what I would call good.”
And then he kissed Xichen, and Xichen lost all ability to think or move. It was nothing like the people he’d kissed in the Cloud Recesses jasmine gardens, quick, soft presses of lips. Mingjue’s arms around him were strong and firm, his mouth like heat and fire. Xichen was consumed in a tide of hunger for him, and everything felt spectacularly bright and marvelous.
“Xichen, ah, Xichen, why didn’t I realize sooner?” he heard Mingjue say faintly as he traced a path to Xichen’s ear with his lips.
Xichen realized he could hear his breath stutter erratically as Mingjue dropped one hand to caress Xichen’s bottom. It should be strange and unfamiliar to be touched so intimately. He should move away. But it felt perfectly natural to reach his arms up to twine around Mingjue’s neck and bend him closer, deepen the kiss, slide his tongue into Mingjue’s mouth, hear the groan of satisfaction, feel the hardness between them.
Xichen felt Mingjue fumbling at his clothes and he tried to help, wanting nothing more than to be touching Mingjue’s skin. He swiftly untied his damp robes and let them fall before pushing impatiently at Mingjue’s clothes. When Xichen’s shirt finally came off, Mingjue stopped, half undressed, to touch the lean muscles of Xichen’s chest and stomach as they twitched reflexively under his fingers.
“Mingjue, have you ever…” Xichen stopped, unsure exactly what he wanted to ask. But Mingjue just shook his head, still running his hands over Xichen’s body until Xichen felt he would erupt in flame.
“I have never even thought of it,” he said idly, not entirely paying attention, which made Xichen laugh. “I mean,” Mingjue clarified with a wry smile and a kiss on the tip of Xichen’s ear that sent sparks trailing down to his fingers. “I have never thought about any specific person this way. Until you. And now you are the only thing I can think about.”
No one had ever said such things to Xichen, and he hastily increased his efforts to rid Mingjue of his clothes. He kissed the hollow of Mingjue’s throat, biting the edge of his collarbone gently, and then more firmly when he heard the soft gasp. Mingjue’s hands at his waist tightened, and he swayed into Xichen.
More boldly than he would have imagined he could be, Xichen reached between them to flatten his hand against Mingjue’s erection, flexing his fingers, entranced at how it felt to be touching someone, touching Mingjue, this way. Mingjue’s knees started to buckle, and he grabbed Xichen’s shoulders to steady himself. Xichen moved his hand again, squeezing slightly as he did, and the sound that escaped Mingjue’s throat was different, an involuntary moan, that shot through Xichen’s core.
“I don’t think I can take much more of this.” Mingjue’s words came out with an exhale that sounded like a plea.
He swiftly slipped off his pants, stepping out of them and his boots, and Xichen was suddenly numb with how beautiful Mingjue was, all his muscle and power quivering under Xichen’s hands. He wrapped his fingers around Mingjue’s shaft and slid his hand experimentally across the velvety skin, relishing the tightening grip of the man’s hands on his shoulders, his forehead resting against Xichen’s shoulder, hair falling around them both.
“Mingjue, you smell like a dark forest I am lost in,” Xichen whispered as he moved his hand, enjoying the power he held, and Mingjue groaned, kissing Xichen’s mouth with greedy lips and tongue.
To Xichen’s surprise, Mingjue reached down to shove the pants Xichen hadn’t managed to take off over his hips to grasp Xichen’s cock, and he thought he would faint at the exquisite flickers of light it sent whirling through him. Mingjue didn’t try to match Xichen’s rhythm, just gently circled his thumb around the tip, which made Xichen lightheaded.
As Xichen sped up his motion, Mingjue’s breathing grew rougher and his hips jerked spasmodically in Xichen’s hand. Whatever words he started to say became a repetition of Xichen’s name over and over punctuated with louder and louder moans until he finally wrenched away. He grabbed Xichen’s hips and ground their bodies together, rubbing himself against Xichen’s hard cock until they were both panting and desperate.
Xichen wanted more, so much more. He dug the fingers of one hand into the hard muscle of Mingjue’s buttocks and with the other, grabbed one of Mingjue’s braids and yanked his head down for a rough, almost painful kiss. With a cry, Mingjue wrapped his arms around Xichen and spilled himself between them, his head tipped back ecstatically.
Mingjue took three deep, shuddering breaths and then dropped to the floor in front of Xichen. For a moment, Xichen thought he had fallen, so he didn’t immediately comprehend what was happening when Mingjue put his lips on Xichen’s cock and slid it into his mouth. And then he didn’t recognize the sound that came out of his own mouth, a hoarse, gasping sob. He cried out Mingjue’s name over and over as he was devoured, the fireworks bursting across his body overwhelming him. He slid his hands through Mingue’s hair and felt Mingjue moan with pleasure around his cock and it was all too much. His entire body spasmed tightly around his core and then exploded outward into nothingness.
When Xichen was sensible again, Mingjue was standing and Xichen was clinging to him. Mingjue gently rubbed Xichen’s back and nuzzled his neck with kisses as light as the sound of rain on the roof.  
“Xichen, you are beyond anything I could have imagined.” Mingjue’s voice was soft with awe.
He started to let go of Xichen, but Xichen’s wobbly legs betrayed him before Mingjue could catch him. He staggered backward, hitting the edge of the bed and falling against it, inadvertently dragging Mingjue with him. Mingjue pulled Xichen on top of him just as the rickety bed crashed to the floor underneath them.
They laid there in shocked silence for a few seconds before Mingjue burst into laughter. “Lan-da-gongzi, did you just break the bed in my father’s hunting lodge?”
Xichen flushed and tucked his face against Mingjue who kept laughing, but also kept holding Xichen.
“It works just as well this way, Xichen,” he breathed into Xichen’s ear, nipping the lobe affectionately.
Xichen touched an old scar on Mingjue’s shoulder, one of many more than Xichen had expected to see, thinking he was too young to have been wounded so deeply.
“Mingjue, how did you know…” he faltered, embarrassed, but too curious to resist asking. “How did you know what to do?”
Xichen felt the rumble of laughter spread through him as though it was his own mirth.
“My little brother has an extensive collection of...informative drawings he does not think I know about,” Mingjue answered, tangling his fingers in Xichen’s wet hair. “After you kissed me, I was inspired to learn more.”
Xichen turned to stare at him in shock. He remembered that Mingjue’s brother was the same age as Wangji, and he could not imagine Wangji even knowing such things existed, much less having them.
“I assume by your expression that is not how you knew.” Mingjue was still smiling, and Xichen thought he had smiled more this afternoon than he had the last three months.
“No,” Xichen answered truthfully. “I just...did what I have wanted to do since the day I met you.”
Mingjue’s eyes closed, and he let out the softest sigh, tightening his arms around Xichen and pressing his lips to the top of Xichen’s head.
“Ah, Xichen, you should have told me. We could have had the entire summer.”
Now it was Xichen’s turn to laugh. “Nie-da-gongzi, I do not think you would have reacted the same way if I had thrown myself at you our first day in Lotus Pier.” He was teasing, but Mingjue regarded him seriously, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“I think I would have, Xichen. This was meant to be.”
Xichen had no choice but to kiss him, long and deep, the start of making up for a summer of lost kisses.
The rain continued to fall and Mingjue showed no sign of wanting to move, content to be kissing Xichen. His hands kept exploring, caressing Xichen’s back, running his fingers down his arms, touching his cheekbones and lips.
“Xichen,” Mingjue finally said, a serious note in his voice, and Xichen was certain he was going to say they should get up, get dressed, go back to Bujing Shi. He started to shift, but Mingjue didn’t let him go, just rolled them both to the side and looked down at Xichen solemnly.
“I think I would like to try again.”
He kissed Xichen’s chest, tongue flicking against one hard, flat nipple, making Xichen gasp. He buried his hands in Mingjue’s hair, arching his back as Mingjue’s hands gripped his ribs.
“And again.”
He moved his lips lower, his braids carving a tortuous path down Xichen’s stomach, and Xichen was hard again, painfully and sublimely hard.
“Are you willing to let me try again?” Mingjue asked, rubbing his nose against the sensitive skin at the joint of Xichen’s hip as he slid Xichen’s pants the rest of the way off his body.
Xichen tried to answer, tried to form the words “yes,” and “please,” and “always,” but there was nothing he could say as Mingjue’s mouth closed over him and he fell into a yawning chasm of desire he did not ever want to escape from.
//A Year Later//
After the ceremony, Xichen found Mingjue in his old rooms, staring at the now-empty space. He turned red-rimmed eyes to Xichen who just held out his arms, accepting Mingjue’s tears, the weakness he could not show anyone else.
“I can’t do this,” he whimpered into Xichen’s shoulder, clutching him tightly. “I’m not ready.”
“Beloved, you can,” Xichen reassured him, stroking his hair, resenting the words even as he said them. “You have prepared to be zongzhu your whole life, and you will be such a fine leader of the Qinghe Nie.”
Mingjue was silent for a few minutes. “Will you still love me?” he asked quietly, and Xichen’s heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces at the fear in his voice. They both knew why he was asking, how the life of saber and strife might change him into someone who would be hard to love.
Xichen pulled back and kissed him, not gently, not softly, but with all the fierce promise of his soul.
“Forever, Mingjue,” he whispered, voice harsh and breaking.
Mingjue laid his forehead against Xichen’s and closed his eyes, “I don’t have forever,” he said bleakly, and Xichen folded him into a tight embrace, willing away the aching grasp on his own chest.
Not this time, he thought, angry at the unfairness of the world that would create such a man and then put such a terrible price on his life. He thought of the library vaults, the books he had not yet read, the musical secrets they held. There had to be a way to keep this Nie, his Nie, alive, and if there was, he would find it.
48 notes · View notes
ibijau · 3 years
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Jin Rusong Lives pt12 / On AO3
Nie Huaisang discovers that it's not easy to kiss a pretty man when you have a job to do
When he was very young, a year or so after the death of their father, Nie Huaisang had wondered about his brother being single. Since he’d personally been something of a brat, and none too impressed with the changes that circumstances had forced upon his brother, he had come to the conclusion that Nie Mingjue just wasn’t nice enough for anyone to like him that way. 
Nie Huaisang, moved by pity, had promised his brother that he would stay with him all his life, but only if Nie Mingjue never made him attend sabre practice again. His noble sacrifice had been met with indifference, and Nie Mingjue had just sent him to train anyway, proving that he definitely was the hardest, coldest, least lovable person in the world, and deserved to be single.
Some years later, Nie Huaisang had once more wondered why his brother was yet unmarried. At that time, he had been mostly concerned by the fact that made him heir to Qinghe Nie’s leadership, a most horrible realisation to have when he only wished to enjoy his time in Gusu, kiss pretty people, and never learn a single thing in his life. 
He had at that time befriended Jiang Cheng, whose views on love and marriage were entirely unlike what Nie Huaisang felt himself. And then, there had also been that list of popular young bachelors. The second proved that Nie Mingjue was desirable, while the first offered the consideration that not everyone longed for a partner. Nie Huaisang had tried to accept his brother the way he accepted his friend, though it annoyed him that he'd have to be the one producing an heir. He’d already started taking notice of Lan Xichen around then, and no girl in the world could have been even half as beautiful.
Later still, after the Sunshot Campaign, Nie Huaisang once again reconsidered his opinion regarding Nie Mingjue’s situation. His brother wasn't quite as cold as he pretended, and it happened sometimes that he would let his gaze linger on a pretty girl, though never long enough to be noticed. Some of those girls would have made fine mistresses for the Unclean Realm, and could have given Nie Mingjue the heir which would ensure Nie Huaisang would never have to be sect leader. 
But as Nie Mingjue's temper deteriorated in the years leading to his death, after witnessing the violence with which he lost his life, the same violence their father had shown in his last moments, Nie Huaisang formed a new theory; if Nie Mingjue had never married, it was because he was scared of hurting others. 
For a decade, Nie Huaisang satisfied himself with that theory. It went well with the image he had of his brother, noble and self sacrificing. It also helped rekindle his hatred of Jin Guangyao by reminding him that it was his actions that had robbed Nie Mingjue of the loving family he deserved. But the truth, Nie Huaisang was now realising, might have been more simple than that.
It was just so damn complicated to have a sentimental life as a sect leader, and even more so while raising a child. 
Little Jin Rusong, bless him, was the sweetest child in the world, polite, obedient, affectionate. Considering how difficult his presence made things, Nie Huaisang felt immense sympathy for his late brother, who'd had to deal with a hellspawn like himself. Nie Mingjue might have thought that his little brother would embarrass him or throw a fit out of jealousy if he tried to flirt with anyone… and Nie Huaisang couldn't deny he would have taken great joy in doing just that. 
At least, Jin Rusong meant no harm when he'd cried out just as Nie Huaisang, after a decade of hopelessness, was about to be kissed again by the man he loved. With the rough evening he'd had, the little boy also couldn't be blamed for being worried about falling asleep alone, so that had ended any chance for Nie Huaisang to have more time with Lan Xichen right then. 
In the morning, Nie Huaisang had the pleasant surprise of seeing Lan Xichen enter the room at the same time as the servant who brought breakfast. Although they usually dined together these days, to spend breakfast together was entirely new. 
"I have been awake for a while," Lan Xichen explained before Nie Huaisang could ask a single question. "Even here I usually follow our rules and…" 
He trailed off, a touch of red blooming on his cheeks as he stared a moment at Nie Huaisang, before promptly averting his eyes. Perhaps he remembered that he’d boldly offered to break some of those rules only the night before. Nie Huaisang certainly hadn’t forgotten.
"I was awake and thought I'd come see you," Lan Xichen quickly finished. "I hope you don't mind?" 
"I'm always happy to have you in my room," Nie Huaisang retorted, delighted to see the other man's blush deepen. He'd missed flirting. It had been a long while since he'd done that, and he felt rusty, but he was sure Lan Xichen would be forgiving. 
The three of them sat down for breakfast. Nie Huaisang, quite innocently, tried to sit next to Lan Xichen rather than Jin Rusong, but the child protested against that, saying he wanted to be sitting close to Lan Xichen. He then proceeded to also monopolise the conversation, clearly delighted to have both of his uncles at his disposal. Both men still attempted to flirt a little, but eventually had to give up and settle for exchanging fond looks over the table.
When breakfast was over, Nie Huaisang helped Jin Rusong get dressed and ready for his day while Lan Xichen watched. They all three went to the classroom, and as they walked Lan Xichen stood a little too close, causing his hand to brush against Nie Huaisang every so often. At least, he did so until Jin Rusong grabbed both their hands, seeming in an excellent mood that morning and determined to enjoy both his uncles at once.
When Jin Rusong had been handed to his teacher, there was a brief moment of awkwardness. Nie Huaisang stood silent near the classroom door, suddenly as nervous as a teenager with a crush. His only comfort was to see Lan Xichen equally anxious.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” Lan Xichen suggested. “We could…” he hesitated, pink dusting his face, and finished miserably: “we could walk.”
“I’d love to walk,” Nie Huaisang replied with too much eagerness.
Lan Xichen smiled, looking more shy and uncertain than he’d done the previous night. Nie Huaisang also found it harder to think about renewing their old connection, now that it was light around them. Without darkness to soften the world around them, he could remember every reason he’d given ten years earlier to argue against their little romance, every fear of a political disaster, of blackmail if they were discovered, of losing the last true friend he had. And yet even like that, Nie Huaisang knew he could not resist his feelings, not this time.
He was tired of denying himself the things he wanted, he thought as he reached out to take Lan Xichen’s hand.
And that was when Nie Funyu found them, and scolded Nie Huaisang for forgetting that he’d agreed to see a local magistrate that morning about a series of mysterious disappearances in a nearby town. The magistrate in question had been waiting for a while already, and was quite unhappy about it. Nie Huaisang had no choice but to follow his first disciple, and could not even offer Lan Xichen a chance for a lunch together, as it had already been agreed he would eat with that magistrate.
“Duty comes first,” Lan Xichen said with a thin smile that lacked its usual warmth.
It was a comfort, Nie Huaisang supposed, to know that he wasn’t the only one irritated by this unexpected interruption.
The meeting with that magistrate went well. Once the situation was explained, Nie Huaisang offered different ways to deal with it, so that some important people who appeared involved would not be offended if they were innocent, nor allowed a chance to escape he’d they’d done something nefarious. The magistrate appeared satisfied by the solution offered, as well as by the meal. Sadly, the man was of a curious nature, and hinted very strongly that he would like to be given a tour of the Unclean Realm, admitting he was fascinated with cultivation, though lacking any talent himself. 
Nie Huaisang had no choice but to show him around. This, in turn, meant that the amount of work he would normally have done during the afternoon piled up. Even when the magistrate had left, Nie Huaisang found himself busy with correspondence, before having to give some lessons to the juniors, as Nie Funyu occasionally insisted he did, “so the little ones know who you are, zongzhu”.
Then some other business came up, so that by the time Nie Huaisang was finally free to join Lan Xichen and Jin Rusong for dinner, they were almost done eating and he was exhausted. Even if he’d still had the energy to think of flirting, Jin Rusong happened to be in a chatty and joyful mood, demanding to play, and Nie Huaisang had to oblige until both of them were too sleepy to go on. Lan Xichen was very graceful about it, and offered to keep Jin Rusong for the night so that Nie Huaisang had a chance to sleep more deeply.
The offer was immediately taken, and Nie Huaisang stumbled back to his room where he dropped on his bed half dressed, too tired to bother with clothes.
The following day showed promises of more contradictions to Nie Huaisang’s plans. While he would have wanted to finally continue his conversation with Lan Xichen, as soon as he was done with his breakfast, some juniors came to find him to complain about a problem they were having. Someone’s cousin had said something about someone else’s fiancée, who happened to be close friends with the young master of a small sect who now threatened everyone with a duel. 
It was only a small dispute, but Nie Huaisang had seen what happened to arguments allowed to fester, so he gave the situation his full attention and wrote right away to some of the people concerned in an attempt to make everyone calm down. But then, since he had gone to his office to write those letters, Nie Funyu found him there and took the chance to make him review some bills that he thought were not quite right.
It was nearly noon when Lan Xichen knocked on the door of Nie Huaisang’s office. He appeared slightly disappointed to find that Nie Huaisang was not alone, which Nie Huaisang thought funny. Nie Funyu did not share his amusement, and his mood turned sour when Lan Xichen asked if he might keep them company. Nie Huaisang promptly agreed, which annoyed his first disciple. It would take a while until Nie Funyu no longer resented Lan Xichen for his former friendship with Jin Guangyao, but he would have to get over it. Nie Huaisang intended to keep Lan Xichen in his life.
He just wished they could have half a shichen to themselves to decide how to make that work.
An impossible wish, it seemed.
Still, at long last, lunch time came to free Nie Huaisang from his work. Not only that, but he knew that Nie Funyu was teaching all afternoon, meaning it would be that much easier to avoid work for a little while. 
Lunch was unmemorable. Some elders insisted that Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen eat with them, complaining that their sect leader had neglected them lately. It was not entirely untrue, but Nie Huaisang wished he could have neglected those elders today too. It wasn't even possible to chat with Lan Xichen in such company, though since they were sitting next to each other, their hands accidentally touched frequently. 
After they were done eating, Nie Huaisang promptly asked Lan Xichen if he would mind checking something with him in his quarter. Just as quickly, Lan Xichen agreed, and they both walked there a little more quickly than was dignified for two sect leaders, worried about more interruptions. 
There were none. Nobody stopped them on their way to Nie Huaisang’s quarters, and they were allowed to finally be alone together again. Nie Huaisang felt like a mischievous teenager trying to escape parental supervision to get naughty with their crush. He found that he quite enjoyed that. He hadn’t felt this young in years.
"I'm glad you're taking your duties more seriously, but surely your sect can function without you sometimes," Lan Xichen said as they closed the door behind them.
His voice warried with such petulance that Nie Huaisang almost laughed. 
"Xichen, were you getting impatient maybe?" came the teasing answer. 
A slight frown appeared on Lan Xichen's face, before he stepped closer and took Nie Huaisang’s hand. 
"Yes, I was." 
He said it so simply, as if it were evident. Perhaps it was, after having waited so many years for this. Nie Huaisang was hardly any better. Patience had been his main quality for a while, but now he was tired of waiting.
"Well, we're here now," he said, breathless. "I'm all yours, Lan Huan." 
Lan Xichen shivered at the use of that name, a first between them, and squeezed Nie Huaisang’s hand, with a tender smile on his lips. 
That smile disappeared when there was a knock on the door and Lan Xichen glared at it. Nie Huaisang felt just as disappointed, but was starting to find some humour in the situation. He almost laughed as he freed his hand from Lan Xichen's. 
Nie Mingjue was well avenged for every bit of trouble his brother had caused him. 
“Come in,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “Oh. Jin Yixin, is there a problem?”
Jin Yixin came into the room and bowed with cold elegance, while at her side Jin Rusong tried to copy her posture. He looked very serious, the way he always did around Jin Yixin, clearly trying to impress his teacher and prove that he was a worthy student.
“I come to Nie zongzhu to make a request,” she said. “Some of the concepts I’m trying to explain to the young master would profit from outdoor demonstrations. I was hoping you would allow me to take him outside of the Unclean Realm? I’ve tried using the gardens to make my point, but they are too touched by human minds and it does not work.”
The request made Nie Huaisang frown. 
It was nothing particularly strange, Nie teachers also took the younger juniors past the walls of the Unclean Realm sometimes, just for a shichen, to show something about… energies? It might have to do with energies. Nie Huaisang hadn’t paid attention as a child, and he still struggled with some of those concepts as an adult. What he understood, though, was that those concepts were important to cultivate in a solid, healthy manner, and he didn’t want to deprive Jin Rusong of a chance to learn well.
“Where would you go? And when?”
“There is a little field behind the Unclean Realm that’s uncultivated, and well within your borders,” Jin Yixin explained. “I was thinking of going there. Perhaps this afternoon? Of course it can wait if you’d rather check the place yourself first.”
“No, I think I see what you mean,” Nie Huaisang replied. “I used to go there sometimes to admire the view of the mountains, and to watch the birds that live around. I suppose there’s no harm…”
He hesitated. The idea of letting Jin Rusong leave the Unclean Realm, however briefly, however well accompanied, was deeply unpleasant. At the same time, a little field trip like that was likely to tire out the child, and if he could be convinced to go to sleep early…
They wouldn’t be going very far, he thought, and Jin Yixin came with the approval of both Jin Rulan and Jiang Wanyin. Nie Funyu, who had seen her train and even got to spar with her once, also vouched for her being a very strong cultivator. She’d taken part in the Sunshot Campaign even. Clearly she was someone who could be trusted with Jin Rusong’s safety.
“Take some of my disciples with you,” Nie Huaisang ordered. “And take some distress signals too. I don’t think Qinghe Nie’s reputation has fallen so low that anyone would dare to cause trouble so close to the Unclean Realm, but let’s take every precaution. SongSong, you will be very good and listen to your teacher, won’t you?”
The little boy enthusiastically promised, and was still grinning when Jin Yixin and him left the room to go find some people who might accompany them.
As soon as the door closed, Lan Xichen pressed Nie Huaisang against the nearest wall and kissed him, unwilling to risk any further delay. After a brief moment of surprise, Nie Huaisang wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist and pulled him closer, melting into the kiss.
It felt nothing like that miserable kiss they’d exchanged on the day of Nie Mingjue’s funeral. Back then it had felt like a farewell between them, while now Nie Huaisang could hope there would be more of this in the future. Lan Xichen’s passion in kissing him, the way their bodies were pressed together, certainly promised more.
They kissed against the wall for a while, impatiently clinging to each other. Then Lan Xichen, always so clever, suggested that there was a sofa right there, which might be more comfortable than to remain standing. Nie Huaisang felt tempted to point out that if comfort was an issue, his bed wasn’t very far either, and it would be even more comfortable. But the sofa was closer, and there was no urgency. They had found each other again at last, and had the rest of their lives to explore all they could want from that.
Although they’d started sitting on the sofa, before too long they were lying on it, Nie Huaisang straddling Lan Xichen, kissing him more slowly now as they allowed their hands to wander, enjoying accidental brushes of skin on skin, but making no effort to discard their layers of clothing. There was no rush, not now that they had each other, and Nie Huaisang thought he could have happily spent the rest of his life like this, nestled on a sofa with the man he loved, lazily kissing him.
Time passed around them without their notice, until a knock on the door forced them to return again to the world around them.
Nie Huaisang’s first thought was that he had to be cursed to never enjoy a single moment of peace. Then, noticing how the shadows had grown longer, he realised with some embarrassment that they’d been together like that for a long while, and it wasn’t so surprising that someone should be needing him for something or other. He tried to get up, only for Lan Xichen to hold him by the hips, keeping him in place. Nie Huaisang almost laughed, and seeing how handsome Lan Xichen was like this, flushed and with his lips so red, he couldn’t resist leaning for one more kiss.
Another knock on the door, insistent enough to make it shake, put an end to that. Nie Huaisang, surprised by such urgency, stood up. Lan Xichen did not stop him again, looking puzzled as well, and followed him when he went to open the door, both of them trying to put order to their appearance. 
One of his disciples was on the other side, looking distraught and breathless from running. 
“Nie zongzhu, there’s a problem,” he explained, speaking so fast it made him hard to understand. “The men who went with Jin Yixin and Jin xiao-gongzi have returned. They’ve been beaten up, they say they were ambushed and attacked.”
“What?” Nie Huaisang gasped, so shocked he had to support himself against the doorframe. “How…" A thought crossed his mind, and he grabbed the man's collar. "Where's Rusong?”
The man shook his head.
“Zonghzhu, he’s been taken.”
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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years
Text
Targets - ao3
- Chapter 2 -
It all happened very suddenly.
Fall was still warm enough for them to go swimming, and so Wei Wuxian had proposed, and Jiang Cheng agreed, that they sneak off to one of the pools not far off from the Lotus Pier. They’d been going further and further away, bored of the same old haunts, looking for adventure – they were eleven, after all, and it was time to start putting that whole attempt the impossible motto stuff into action.
Even if all they were attempting was a secret swim by themselves, with no shidis to have to watch over and no shixiongs to babysit them, it was still worthwhile, and even if they hadn’t exactly been the most subtle about picking up lunch from the kitchens to take with them, Wei Wuxian’s Uncle Jiang had very indulgently pretended not to know what they were up to. Even Madame Yu pretended not to see them as they went out the back gate.
In other words, the whole thing was practically endorsed, although the lack of actual disclosure added a frisson of illicit excitement to it all.
The swimming itself was fine. There was nothing like a nice swim on a warm fall day.
But when they were still playing – splashing at each other and shouting fond insults, each one already mostly thinking about the lunch they’d brought with them even though they’d already eaten all their snacks earlier – a group of men had come walking by, one of them calling out a request for directions. Their accents suggested that they were strangers; naturally, Wei Wuxian had pulled himself out of the water and started providing them, with Jiang Cheng, never one to be left behind, slithering out to stand beside him.
The man smiled upon seeing them both, and Wei Wuxian hadn’t been halfway through the directions when he’d drawn his sword and lunged forward.
Jiang Cheng shrieked and grabbed at Wei Wuxian’s arm, trying to pull him out of the path of the sword, and Wei Wuxian had tried at the same moment to dodge, ideally towards a position that would let him stand in front of Jiang Cheng, who he assumed was the real target here.
Even as he moved, he knew he would be too slow.
The sword would strike him down, and then there would be no one to protect Jiang Cheng.
They were only eleven, Wei Wuxian thought, anguished, angered; only eleven, with their golden cores not yet formed, and the men in front of him were full adults, cultivators, attacking them with spiritual weapons. Even if by some miracle they escape the leader’s blade, there were all the others – they had also drawn their own blades, and there were seven of them. He thought desperately as to what he could do in the split second that he had left to him, thinking that while it probably wouldn’t work if he shoved Jiang Cheng back into the water, telling him to swim to safety and leave Wei Wuxian behind, that was the only thing Wei Wuxian could think of that might work. It would be worth it as long as he bought Jiang Cheng a chance, if he could win even a little extra time at the cost of his life…
He never had the chance to put his thoughts into action.
Before he could even see it, there was a loud sound, metal hitting metal, and suddenly there was a giant standing in front of them, the saber in his hand pressing aside the attacker’s sword. The giant was wielding the fierce saber one-handed, and with the other was holding a kid about their age under his arm, the way one would hold a sack of potatoes – the kid was wearing winter clothes, weirdly enough – but a moment later he all but threw the kid at the two of them and lunged forward, his saber rising up into attack position, and all the attackers’ expressions abruptly changed from smug to horrified.
A moment later the kid hit Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng both and they stumbled backwards, the three of them tangling together, and it took a few seconds for them to wiggle free of each other.
“Hi!” the strange kid chirped. “We should run!”
Swimming would actually be better than running, usually, but not while wearing winter clothing; there was a risk the kid – he seemed younger than them, smaller – could drown, weighed down by the wet and heavy fabric. So instead all three of them got to their feet and headed towards the forest as fast as they could.
Wei Wuxian looked over his shoulder just as they hit the treeline.
“Oh wow,” he said, and came to a stop.
“What are you doing, we need to – oh,” Jiang Cheng said, seeing the same thing he did: the giant’s beautiful swordsmanship, his saber strikes aggressive and fierce and clean as if he was simply practing the steps in a training ground, even though three of the attackers were already bleeding out on the ground. He was like a hurricane, furious and inexorable, and suddenly so many of the things Wei Wuxian’s swordsmanship teachers had tried to convey to him about moving like wind and water, forward and yet fluid, abruptly made sense, clicking in a brilliant moment of enlightenment that was only slightly ruined by the new kid reaching out and grabbing them both by the ears and snapping, “Behind the tree!”
They hid behind the tree.
One of the attackers tried to turn and run, but the giant threw his saber after him, guiding it with a hand sign, turned and threw a talisman at another one’s face, knocking him backwards, and used his shoulder to ward off a blow from the last one, stepping in close and just flat-out punching him in the face. It felt like it was no time at all before they were all lying on the ground, unmoving. Probably dead.
“You didn’t have to grab us like that,” Jiang Cheng grumbled at the kid, who didn’t seem impressed.
“You always watch from a safe location, or else you’ll distract the person fighting,” he responded, sounding like he was reciting by rote. Anyway, Wei Wuxian supposed that it was pretty fair statement. “I mean, what if they’d tried to come after us? Da-ge would’ve still beaten them, of course, but he might’ve gotten hurt in the process, and that would be awful.”
“He’s your da-ge?” Wei Wuxian asked, focusing on the important part. “He’s amazing.”
Jiang Cheng’s irritated expression softened – he’d been wowed by the fighting, too, no doubt – and he nodded furiously.
That appeased the kid, who preened. “Yeah, he’s my blood brother, and he’s the best,” he said. “You should’ve seen us on our way here. We flew here really fast.”
“And we’re going to have to continue onwards really fast,” the giant said, striding towards them with his saber still bloody, although he was pulling out a cleaning cloth already. “If they’ve already gotten here, they may have already reached Yunping, and we only had a single disciple there that we were able to contact…you’ll have to come with me there, and we’ll return here afterwards to talk to the sect leader.”
“My father?” Jiang Cheng said, alarmed. “Wait, where are we going?”
“You were targeted,” the giant said, and Wei Wuxian nodded, having already deduced that Jiang Cheng had been identified. “Both of you.”
He hadn’t expected that.
“There’s another target not far away, in Yunping. I planned to go there only after speaking with Sect Leader Jiang, but there’s no time. We have to go at once.” The giant paused, then rubbed his face. “Forgive me, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Qinghe Nie’s Nie Mingjue; I’m the sect leader there.”
That made Wei Wuxian feel better at once: the clothing color, the saber, the name, it all matched up with Qinghe Nie, and they were another of the Great Sects, an ally. Plus, he had in fact just saved their lives.
“Okay,” he said, and elbowed Jiang Cheng when he looked about to disagree. “Let’s go save whoever it is in Yunping.”
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng finally agreed after another moment of thought. “I wouldn’t want anyone else to – yeah. Let’s go. Can we take our lunch?”
“Oooh, please,” the kid – another Nie, presumably – said. “Grab it and we’ll go.”
Nie Mingjue nodded and put down his saber, letting it float not far above the ground, and that was when Wei Wuxian realized that they would be flying to Yunping on a sword – well, a saber, anyway – instead of going by carriage or horse the way they usually did when they travelled.
Awesome.
His Uncle Jiang would take them flying sometimes, but only rarely, busy as he was. It was a great treat every time, but invariably too short; they’d never gone more than a few li and back, and definitely not as far as Yunping City.
“You can each have one of my layers,” the littler Nie kid, who still hadn’t introduced himself, said. “You’re going to need it. It gets cold up there!”
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songofclarity · 3 years
Text
Heliocentric
[ Ch. 2 | MDZS Fanfic | Novel-verse AU ]
Canon Divergent AU in which Wen RuoHan gets to live and Nie MingJue has to survive
Or: Nie Mingjue's Very Bad No Good Fire Palace Adventure
Table of Context: Ch. 1
Read on AO3
Rating: Mature
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Sick Fic, Angst (with a happy ending)
Ships: Lan XiChen/Nie MingJue, non-con Wen RuoHan/Nie MingJue
Notes: For @whumptober2020 Day 2. This is still novel-verse but if this scene reminds you of a certain scene in CQL, that is by design~ Also don't make it easy for them, Nie MingJue! Fight on!
Chapter Two: Collars
 They gave Nie MingJue a tonic – forced it down his throat – when he first awoke on a cold stone table and weighed down with heavy metal chains. The rest of the day was spent in a gloomy haze. He didn't know what time it was, if it was night or day, if one day had passed or several.
Meng Yao appeared through the gloom, sometimes wearing Wen suns and flames, sometimes Nie dark knits, and Nie MingJue struggled each time against the chains with nothing else on his mind than the desire to rip him apart.
“Are you awake, Sect Leader Nie?”
Not enough to speak, not even when sharp needles stabbed his skin and dug under his nails. Nie MingJue struggled, and then Meng Yao went away.
The twilight returned to day eventually, as did Meng Yao, standing over him once more.
“I have more medicine for the pain, Sect Leader Nie.”
“I want nothing you have to give,” Nie MingJue retorted through his teeth, every muscle stiff and taught with barely concealed fury. Although the medicine earlier had indeed tempered the pain, it prevented him from meditating and gathering his spiritual energy. Stripped to his waist, the cold stone radiated into his back. It was no Cold Spring of Gusu and all it did was add to his discomfort.
Mediation should have been his priority now, but it was the farthest thing from his mind.
Meng Yao gave him a bored look, then frowned. “Nothing? If you're not in pain now, you will be by this afternoon. Sect Leader Wen has no interest in broken things and you don't want to die, do you?”
Nie MingJue's brows furrowed and the chains rattled as he struggled. Everything that was broken remained broken, but it hurt far less to move now. “Take it yourself then!”
“Please don't be stubborn about this,” Meng Yao said, looking down as he mixed the spoon in the bowl as pitifully as if he'd been kicked. “Think about how HuaiSang will feel if—”
The chains rattled again, the links pinched the skin across Nie MingJue’s chest and arms, and the weight of them made his fragile ribs ache, but Nie MingJue was past caring. “How dare you! Don't speak his name! Don't speak at all!”
“Fine,” Meng Yao snapped. The bowl clattered to the floor as he tossed it aside. “Sect Leader Nie knows best. It's not as though you listen to anyone anyway—”
“Listen to what? To your excuses? To those lies you thought would work on me?” Nie MingJue didn't grow up raising Nie HuaiSang to become so blind. All he wanted was the truth, but all Nie HuaiSang had to do was stick out his tongue and show how black it was with ink.
“I'm not lying! I practiced my saber before I started painting, Da-ge!”
“With what saber? The one that's been in my office all day collecting dust again?”
“I wasn't lying!” Meng Yao stood up straighter, and Nie MingJue was almost surprised he didn't hear him stomp his foot. He was clearly insulted, childishly so. Nie MingJue had seen him use the Wen sword and technique with his own eyes. He was lying.
Nie MingJue let out a harsh, strangled laugh. “Listen to you kill those disciples and ask for more, you mean!?”
He could picture it clearly by just closing his eyes: the Sun Palace. The pool of blood. Their bodies on the floor. Meng Yao holding Baxia in his hands. “Why don’t you take a guess at how many times Sect Leader Wen has to slap it for it to break this time?”
“What did you do with Baxia?” Nie MingJue bit out.
It was the wrong question. The weight of the room shifted.
Meng Yao smiled and it did not reach his eyes. “I don't think Baxia is what you should be worrying about right now, Sect Leader Nie.” There was a forewarning in his voice. A clear threat. “Since you didn't want to take the medicine, we don't need to wait for the effects to set in.” He gestured to the Wen-dogs to approach and they came with chains dangling in their hands. “We'll proceed with putting Sect Leader Nie on the hooks now.”
“Don't you dare—”
“I can see you've regained your energy, Sect Leader Nie, that's good,” Meng Yao praised. “I would like to demonstrate some new inventions for Sect Leader Wen. You should be able to tolerate them, so please do your best.”
Nie MingJue's stomach twisted. This was his old lieutenant!?
A metal collar, not unlike the one his sect disciples had worn, clamped around Nie MingJue's neck. The weight of it strangled his throat and he twisted on the table. But twisting and thrashing out didn't stop them from wrapping his arms and legs in new chains before removing the ones holding him down.
A pair of Wen-dogs dragged him off without warning and he crashed and stumbled as his feet sought ground. All the blood left his head from the sudden upright position. The room spun and he swayed dangerously.
By the time he recovered, the group of Wen-dogs had made a circle around him. The chains hung in all directions, ready to pull him each and every way.
Certainly they could try.
“Please watch your step, Sect Leader Nie,” Meng Yao said, standing back and observing, just as he had stood back and observed a hundred little tasks while working in Hejian. That nothing had changed but the sides they stood on made Nie MingJue’s skin crawl. “Any blood left on the floor can be quite slippery.”
“The only blood on the floor will be yours.”
Nie MingJue lunged, and the Wen-dogs behind him yelped as they were dragged along with him. He was still weak, but not so weak to be held back so easily. They had killed his sect disciples – Meng Yao had killed his sect disciples – and he had no reason to care for their safety. He would cut them all down if he could.
Meng Yao's face turned ashen, his eyes widening, and he moved to place the stone table between them. “Sect Leader Nie—”
The back of the collar, anchored by a newly grounded chain, gave an almighty tug that nearly sent Nie MingJue flying onto the flat of his back.
Letting out a wordless shout, Nie MingJue regained his footing. They tried to pull his arm back but he still grabbed the chain pulling on his neck. He was outnumbered but not outmatched, not by these lowly cultivators
“Please, Sect Leader Nie,” Meng Yao said, almost desperate. “You'll just tire yourself out. The outcome will be the same whether you fight or go calmly, won't it?”
“It won't!” Nie MingJue roared. The Wen-dogs behind him had pulled back again just as the ones holding his arms yanked him forward. The collar strangled over his windpipe, silencing him completely.
Footsteps shuffled and the Wen-dogs grunted and called orders to each other as they pulled him three difficult steps to where ropes and tethers and hooks hung from a low-set ceiling.
“Meng... Yao...!” Nie MingJue growled out, his lungs and chest on fire. His recovery had been less than perfect for this kind of full-body struggle.
And when the doors to the Fire Palace opened and a new audience swept in, Nie MingJue nearly yelled in frustration and his mind went blank with the need to fight for his life. Grabbing onto the chain pulling that arm, he yanked the Wen-Dogs towards him, ready to use them against their master just as he done the last time.
They let go of the chain immediately, perhaps realizing his intention. It still gave Nie MingJue a weapon to use as he panted for breath, eyeing Wen RuoHan for his next move.
There would be no summoning Baxia this time.
“You're right, Meng Yao,” Wen RuoHan said, his smile less than pleasant. “He has become quite lively now.”
The Wen-dogs restraining him didn't dare drop the chains, but the others had already bowed and remained kneeling.
Meng Yao, too, had gone to his master's side. All fear from earlier was gone. “Yes.”
“Doesn’t he need to be on hooks for your demonstration? Why is he standing in chains?”
“Excuse my incompetence, Sect Leader Wen. Sect Leader Nie refused the medicine. So, it has become like this.”
Wen RuoHan laughed. “You call it medicine now?”
Nie MingJue grated his teeth. The Wen-dogs holding him back yelped as Nie MingJue took a powerful step forward. “Meng Yao, you traitor!”
Meng Yao didn't even flinch. The Wen-dogs recollected themselves and yanked Nie MingJue back from Meng Yao and Wen RuoHan both. The collar crushed his Adam's apple, and the coughing fit forced him to a knee, his hair falling into his face as he bent over.
They reclaimed the chain he had stolen the moment his grip slacked and, in that a moment, Nie MingJue was back to how this all started: collared and chained and empty handed.
But instead of dragging him along as they had done, they all waited in place as Nie MingJue caught his breath.
He looked up to find Wen RuoHan watching him. With his head tilted in thought and a hand held to his chin and a knuckle brushing his lips. “If he has this much energy, it would be a waste to let him hang. He is quite able-bodied as well, under those Nie robes.”
“Sect Leader Wen?” Meng Yao asked, for the first-time showing signs of being at a loss.
Wen RuoHan swept his robes as he turned to leave the Fire Palace. “I’m returning to the Moon Palace. Bring him.”
Nie MingJue immediately dug his heels down, but Wen RuoHan was already looking back at him with laughter in his voice. Although he spoke to the room, his crimson eyes bore into Nie MingJue’s. “Oh. When he tries to resist, I'll take the chain myself.”
“That—” Meng Yao flustered, and he gave Nie MingJue an unreadable look. Whether it was the Sun Palace, the Fire Palace, or the Moon Palace, it made little different to Nie MingJue. He had no higher ground in this place. “That shouldn't be necessary. Sect Leader Nie is well aware that your strength far exceeds his own.”
“I know he does,” Wen RuoHan said dismissively, “but I also know all about this one.”
“Yes,” Meng Yao agreed, and Nie MingJue realized Meng Yao must have told Wen RuoHan everything. Everything about Hejian, about the Nie Sect, about their numbers, about their movements.
And about him.
Nie MingJue bristled at being talked about in this manner, but his anger clenched his hands and stayed his tongue. Meng Yao was beyond reason and Wen RuoHan had none to begin with.
In Wen RuoHan's wake, the Wen-dogs pulled Nie MingJue out the door into the blinding sunlight.
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xiyao-feels · 3 years
Note
new tu and xiyao fan from earlier. i searched ao3 as per your suggestion and there's only 500 or so fics for them. :( however, i do have a legit question - what are the differences between mdzs and tu (i've never read the latter). and if you want expand on nieyao (or xiyao) please feel free! i love reading meta! one of the few reasons i miss old school fandom spaces lol. thank you!! :D
Hmmm, I see about eight hundred if I limit to English? But I take your point! But that was just as a way to start; once you do find an author you like, you can look at their bookmarks, for example. (Also I'm not sure if you're familiar with the AO3, but if not, sorting by kudos when doing a general search is a way to get stuff that at least lots of people thought was good. I'm not saying it's perfect, but when you're starting in a fandom it can be better than the default by-date-updated.)
Also I'll take the opportunity to plug my absolute favourite xiyao author, roquen. I didn't mention them last time because they haven't I believe written a post-canon fixit, and you should know that they're mostly sticking to MDZS instead of CQL canon, although with some sprinkling of CQL elements and characterization. Some particular favourites of mine include their AtLA AU and their Sunshot/on the run fics (both series with a couple of short fics), their what you might call a mid-temple hopeful fix-it (divergence where LWJ strikes to kill and LXC takes the blow), the baby LXC fic ("Lan Xichen reverts to being a fifteen-year-old junior, and immediately gets an epic crush on Lianfang-zun"; disclaimer that I was fairly involved with the creation of this one but it's GREAT) and, of course, above all, their gigantic canon fix-it verse, it's worth it every time. It's SO GOOD and the characterization is fantastic and the prose is excellent and UGH. It's so good!!!!! Disclaimer that the second fic in the series, which is the main work, is still WIP, but roquen updates regularly and there are only a couple of chapters left; if you're still wary of WIPs, I'd at least recommend the first fic, which stands alone and is brilliant in its own right.
As to the differences between MDZS and CQL…ho boy. There are quite a few, both major and minor, and I'm by no means familar with all of them—especially the ones that don't involve 3zun, lol. I tried to google around but unfortunately the ones I found tended to be either short or, if more in-depth, contain inaccuracies about JGY/LXC—I think people tend to be more interested in the Wangxian, and then this stuff goes by the wayside. The wiki can be a good source for differences for specific incidents, and although I think it's not always accurate it /does/ usually cite chapter or episode, which can be pretty helpful. 
This, by hualiann, looks like a good overview, though I'd add that JYL, WQ and WN didn't study at Cloud Recesses in the novel and that more generally MDZS has a lot of actual undead.
In general my advice is to take things people say about the novel with a large grain of salt, myself included. And about CQL, too! I have no idea if this is you but when I joined the fandom, if people asserted stuff about CQL I tended to just kind of take it as fact—oh, I thought, I must have misremembered! My memory is pretty terrible, and honestly there was absolutely stuff I did misremember. But also sometimes other people misremember, or fanon gets taken as canon, and then there's stuff like—I mean, I'm certainly not going to blame people for not realizing that "JGY conspired with XY at the Unclean Realm" is a lot more uncertain than you might guess at first, especially if they're more Wangxian focused which most people in the fandom are, but I'm still not going to present it as straight-up fact. (veliseraptor has a recent post examining this here which I would very much recommend).
Honestly I think I'd recommend reading the MDZS NMJ Empathy flashback—chapters 48, 49, and the beginning of 50. That gets you a lot of the JGY, LXC and NMJ backstory, and then you can compare for yourself! I'm also going to recommend Mercy's thread, here, listing common fanons about MDZS (I will add to the list, since it's a bugbear of mine, the idea that LXC recognized NMJ's fierce corpse by his abs).
Okay with all that out of the way, and in no particular order, Sun's extremely idiosyncratic and particularly- aka mostly JGY-focused differences list:
-In MDZS, LXC doesn't become Sect Leader until the burning of Cloud Recesses by the Wen, when his father is injured and then succumbs to his wounds. In CQL, he's Sect Leader from the beginning of the show, his father having apparently died not too long before the show started.
-In MDZS, MY wasn't working for the Nie at all before the beginning of Sunshot; he joined the Nie forces just after Sunshot began. NMJ didn't instantly promote him to be his deputy when he's telling at the Nie men for bad-mouthing him; it takes a few more encounters and/or battles with the Wen (after which MY clears the battlefield and helps the commoners).
-In MDZS, xiyao's first meeting happens when LXC is on the run with the Lan books after the burning of Cloud Recesses. We don't see it happen on the page, and we don't know any details of that time beyond, like, MY helped LXC.
-NMJ willingly sends MY away from the Nie, with a letter of recommendation for JGS, after, uh, an extended overhearing of a conversation between MY and LXC wherein MY's desire to be recognized by his father and gain a proper place in the Jin, the opportunity offered for that by JGS recruiting talent at Langya, and the possible difficulty of obtaining permission from NMJ are all established. 
-NMJ sees MY stabbing a /Jin/ captain, at Langya, after he goes looking for MY. Rather than taking a blow for NMJ, MY stabs himself, faking suicide, then immobilizes NMJ (who's trying to save his life) and flees. This is because NMJ wants MY to go turn himself in for killing the captain; MY thinks they'll kill him, while NMJ says that if the captain has actually been mistreating MY as MY said, MY won't be killed. Personally I think that all the evidence suggests that MY is right, and NMJ is blind to the effects of his position to the extent it's a not insignificant moral failure.
-Okay, so, you know how in CQL MY stabs WRH while he's distracted with WWX, outside on the steps with the Sunshot alliance right outside? In /MDZS/, they're in the Sun Palace, WWX isn't anywhere near the place, he does it to save NMJ's life, and then he starts lugging NMJ's unconscious body out of the palace. And then NMJ comes to consciousness amd demands his sabre and tries to kill him. He likely only survives because of NMJ's wounds, and if LXC hadn't shown up (responding to a message MY sent for aid for NMJ) NMJ might easily have killed him. If you want a more in-depth analysis, I take a close look here in my response to someone's, er, imaginative interpretation of NMJ and JGY's relationship in MDZS.
-In CQL, NMJ's qi deviation happens at the stairs incident. In MDZS, it happens later, when he overhears JGY being upset to LXC about how NMJ treated him at the stairs, and, overcome with rage that JGY would dare (arguably in combination with being polite and pleasant to NMJ's face, although the last time he was confrontational to NMJ's face NMJ kicked him down the stairs and tried to kill him so), he kicks open the door and tries to kill him. He also kills several people as he's qi deviating (seeing them as JGY—while in CQL he also sees several JGYs they seem to be just illusions), and injures NHS.
-In MDZS, NMJ sets fire to all of NHS' nice things. I don't think we're told either way in CQL, although it's worth noting that in MDZS this happens after the stairs (and before JGY starts playing for him again). (I think they do something in FJ?? But I don't take FJ as canon for CQL; see confusion-and-more's post here).
-In CQL, JGY suggests to NMJ that he's always played the corrupted Clarity for him (though granted this is in Empathy, so it's hard to say for sure if this is what he actually said, but in any case it's the only version we're given). In MDZS, it's strongly indicated that JGY only started playing Turmoil for NMJ /after/ the stairs—there's a variety of evidence, but I think the most objective is that WWX, who in MDZS Empathy can literally feel NMJ's anger, actually observes it working beforehand:
Since [JGY started playing for NMJ], Jin GuangYao would travel from Lanling to Qinghe every few days, playing Sound of Lucidity to help quell Nie MingJue rage. He tried his hardest, without speaking even a single word of complaint. Sound of Lucidity was indeed effective. Wei WuXian could clearly feel that the hostile energy within Nie MingJue was being suppressed.
(Exiled Rebels translation, ch. 49)
And then the next scene is the stairs incident, so.
-In general, the degree to which JGY's position is completely awful is played down in CQL. confusion-and-more talks about it a bit here; I'd also note that some of JGY's dialogue defending himself is removed ( “Some trivial achievements?” He spoke in a shaking voice, “…What do you mean, some trivial achievements? ChiFeng-Zun, do you know how much work I put into such trivial achievements? How much I suffered? Glory? Without the handful of glory I have nothing!”, for example), we don't hear about his mother at the guqin scene, the temple flashback where his mother is dragged naked outside by a client and he's kicked down the brothel stairs is eliminated, etc etc.
-There is absolutely no second flutist in MDZS; also JGY tells us in the temple that QS was already pregnant before he found out about the incest. I think even in CQL it's questionable whether he actually intended to kill Zixuan (see this whole conversation), and significant unveiling or no CQL never actually says QS wasn't pregnant before their marriage so I tend to go with that too, but certainly it's easy to walk away with the impression that he definitely did both deliberately, especially if you aren't familiar with the novel.
-(In general, I think CQL JGY is a lot more sympathetic than most people think once you look closely, but he's also very much set up to look upon a more casual watching as Villain, so.)
-In CQL it's All A-Yao All The Time but in MDZS we see LXC calling him san-di after the sworn brotherhood, and then it's back to A-Yao in the present day (see my last addition on this chain here).
-In MDZS, JGY doesn't shove JL out of the way of the incoming attack.
-The LXC lifting JGY out of his bow thing is from CQL
-The watchtowers! Oh /man/ the watchtowers. God the watchtowers are so much. Uh, confusion-and-more has a post about how much they're mentioned in MDZS vs CQL here, and see my last addition to this thread for an argument that the watchtowers were indeed a force for good. God. Twelve hundred watchtowers. He must have saved so many lives...
-confusion-and-more's watchtower post also reminds me that CQL has the Guanyin temple giving out medicine, while MDZS does not
-The episode 23 scene where Sect Leaders Jin, Nie, and Lan agree to spare some of the Wen doesn't exist in MDZS (though I'll take the opportunity to observe that I disagree with popular interpretations of that scene, see point three here).
-In MDZS NMJ's fierce corpse is literally trying to kill JGY, there's no saber spirit. And like, it's been trying to kill JGY for a long damn time, that's why JGY dismembered him.
-The XY plotline—in MDZS, JGY recommends a young XY (who at thay point has a reputation but is not known to have committed any massacres) as a Jin cultivator, as part of an effort by JGS to recreate the Yin Tiger Seal. JGS has multiple people trying, but most of them aren't getting anywhere and XY is getting furthest. It's during this time that XY kills the Chang clan, and is discovered as guilty by XXC, who brings up the evidence at a conference happening in Lanling; the Jin are stalling, MMJ gets angry and shows up, he almost kills XY on the spot and gives JGS a lecture such that he's forced to relent and sentence XY to death (and incidentally scares JGY, imho quite seriously, while he's at it). Then JGS turns it into life imprisonment once NMJ has left, and then NMJ is extremely angry and attacks JGY at the stairs. (Ch. 30 and 118)
-I mentioned before but I'll add it here too: in CQL JGY asks LXC to stay and die with him, and LXC agrees.
-The CQL ending in general is...hmmm. Despite having most of the elements which complicate MDZS' ending (JL is in a terrible position!), it kind of presents as...happy ending all is fixed now? In MDZS I think it's presented as—more complicated, even though Wangxian do very much get their happy ending.
-Also LWJ is a lot less. uh. Okay, so in CQL he's more Mr Morality, and in MDZS it's much more Wei Ying Right Or Wrong. Also, he doesn't become Chief Cultivator in MDZS! I think that's my least favourite change, because it's like...LWJ hates politics, hates compromise, and never attends the cultivation conferences. At least one of 'this is going to be a major diisaster' and 'LWJ is going to have to go through some significant shifts in his worldview and approach' are going to have to happen, but that's not the vibe CQL gives off at all, and I think it really works against some of the major themes of the text :/
-OH RIGHT I knew I was forgetting something—in MDZS MXY's revenge is focused solely on the Mo; JGY is not part of the curse.
Okay I don't want to go too much on about xiyao or nieyao, because this is already quite long and I don't want you to be waiting forever, but broadly although I certainly think NMJ cares about JGY a great deal it seems to be about his competence and potential; he doesn't really seem to, like, actually like who he is as a person. JGY, meanwhile, is at first very grateful to and then increasingly exasperated by and very much fucking terrified of NMJ, but...well, he doesn't seem to be into him or interested in spending time with him for the sake of it or etc etc.
On the other hand—xiyao. Man, xiyao!!!! They just—they get each other so fast, they're /partners/, they work together so well, they like and they respect each other, they're both like—LXC and MS are on their own tier for JGY, LWJ and JGY are on their own tier for LXC, they're for each other in a way neither is for anyone else, they care a lot about the same things—it's not perfect overlap, obviously, but it's more overlap I think than either has with anyone else, they—invest, they're builders, JGY was planning the watchtowers project from way back and although I have no doubt he was driving it LXC was with him and!!!! ugh!!!!! xiyao are REALLY GREAT, okay.
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satonthelotuspier · 4 years
Text
❄️ Untamed Winter Fest 2019 ❄️
Day 29 - Frozen - 1.8k
Jiang Cheng watched the gently waving fan as it moved hypnotically, still covering the lower half of Nie Huaisang’s face. He wondered if this was the Nie Sect leader’s version of those flesh eating plants that lured in their prey with pretty colours and tempting smells before snapping closed and devouring what was caught.
The thought made him uncomfortable and he tried to banish it as his eyes lifted and travelled a little further up to find those solemn dark eyes watching him watch the fan.
And really now he was looking for it Jiang Cheng wondered how he, how everyone, had missed that underlying tone of cold cunning in their depths.
But perhaps it was just that he could see it now because he knew it was there; people only saw what they wanted to see, nothing in the world was truer than this.
Nie Huaisang had been a consummate strategist, matching Jin Guangyao move for move, year after year, in a hidden game of chess only one of them had been aware they were playing.
While one man acted the benevolent patriarch of the cultivational world the other played the clown in the background, wept and shook his head when pushed to the forefront and cleverly used his prey as his protection.
Jin Guangyao hadn’t ever seen it coming. That was scheming on another level entirely.
Jiang Cheng considered that they’d come a long way from those silly boys who’d met at the Cloud Recesses and spent their days fooling around, drinking, sharing pornographic books, whilst going about their young lives with their seemingly all-consuming worries.
The worries of children.
Life had chewed them up and spit them out since, and while he didn’t think there was a cultivator of their generation that had come through the last several years unscathed Jiang Cheng had closed himself off emotionally in order to survive, his frozen heart refusing to allow any further possibility of hurt.
He wondered if, like himself, Nie Huaisang would give anything to return to those carefree days of innocence, to be surrounded by his family again. He liked to think he’d not be nearly as ill-tempered with Wei Wuxian as he had been, that he’d appreciate that lively, conceited yet warm-hearted brother of his more, that he wouldn’t waste time bickering in front of his sister and instead just be in her calming company and give her all the love she deserved.
Perhaps Nie Huaisang had the same regrets, wishing he’d not spent so much time avoiding Nie Mingjue and instead been more appreciative of the love and care his elder brother held for him.
***
He would be the first to admit the meeting hadn’t held his attention and he had let most of the discussion flow over his head despite Lotus Pier being the host location, it had been a relief as it drew to a conclusion so he could see the other attendees off to their accommodations.
Afterwards, though it was late in the evening, he found himself in the company of the man who most of his thoughts had been on during the conference as they walked leisurely along the walkways and paths along the lake.
“Jiang-xiong was quite preoccupied during the discussion” Nie Huaisang commented, giving him a quick look from the corner of his fox-eyes.
“It’s the same discussions over and over though isn’t it? Patting themselves on the back for seeing through the Chief Cultivator and having a part in bringing him down” he sneered. The discussion was mostly made up of the smaller Sects due to the current political climate. He had heard Lan Xichen of Gusu had retreated into seclusion after Yunping City; the Jin Sect was in complete shambles despite his attempts to help Jin Ling settle things down, and that only left the Nie and Jiang sects of any size, and the smaller sects were full of their own importance.
They strolled on.
As ever Nie Huaisang was elegantly dressed; he’d always had that interest in beautiful fabrics, intricate braids and hair ornaments and beautifully painted fans. His was the soul of a poet or an artist, not a warrior or a diplomat. And look what he had accomplished.
It was another truism that war made murderers out of even the gentlest souls; one just had to find out what one was prepared to go to war for.
“I thought of the past. Of Cloud Recesses” he broke the companionable silence as Nie Huaisang walked on beside him, his closed fan tapping occasionally into the palm of his left hand.
“They were simpler times” it was almost tentative and Jiang Cheng glanced over, but couldn’t read the reason as the fan flipped open and rose into place to hide his expression, “but no less sincere”
“Do you think of it sometimes?” Jiang Cheng asked, curious how close he’d been in his thoughts earlier.
“Sometimes. Rarely. It’s...raw. I haven’t allowed myself to want the things I wanted then for a long time. I was too focussed, too...consumed. And too dead inside”
That Jiang Cheng understood, hadn’t he acknowledged that frozen part of himself that kept him safe, but emotionally separated from the world? Nie Huaisang came to a halt then and turned to face him.
“Perhaps it’s time we looked forward instead, Jiang-xiong. Perhaps now all accounts are settled it’s time to accept that wanting some of those things we wanted as silly little children in the Cloud Recesses is permissible”
Jiang Cheng didn’t think he quite grasped what Nie Huaisang meant, there seemed to be a message for him, especially in those fox-eyes which stared at him over the top of the fan, but it eluded him.
“It’s perhaps time to let ourselves heal” Nie Huaisang touched his arm with the lightest of contacts, then folded his fan and moved off back towards the dwellings with a, “Goodnight, Jiang-xiong”
***
He spent a lot of time with Nie Huaisang over the following days. Jiang Cheng told himself it was because he was the least annoying claimant upon his time. But he did genuinely enjoy their evening walks which became a staple of the conference. Their talk rarely became as deep or personal as on the first evening, but they never lacked for subjects, and neither minded when silence fell between them when there was nothing that needed to be said.
Jiang Cheng being Jiang Cheng did notice that the other had started to act a little more solicitously towards him, there were often small touches or smiles that caught him off guard, and maybe made his pulse speed up a little. Purely through surprise, of course.
He thought it may be due to Nie Huaisang finding someone with a shared history who had suffered similarly, and who he could talk to about it that made the other move towards renewing their friendship, to which Jiang Cheng had no objections.
He was a little sad when the conference ended and it was time for the other sects to go their own ways. Although only due to the impending departure of Nie Huaisang; he’d happily row the boat away from Lotus Pier himself for any of the other Sect heads. He was at the pier most of the day seeing them all off on their separate journeys.
Nie Huaisang took his leave late in the morning, “Thank you for your hospitality Jiang-xiong, I hope to see you again very soon”
“I hope so too” he allowed himself to agree and didn’t miss the warming of the other man’s eyes in response.
***
Over the following days Jiang Cheng didn’t want to admit how empty Lotus Pier had suddenly become. He continued to take the evening constitutionals that had become the norm with Nie Huaisang but they were lonely and left him brooding more often that not.
He did think deeply on Nie Huaisang’s comment of letting themselves heal and what that meant to him, he felt like the message had carried a very important weight for the other man. For himself he considered part of the healing process would be to forgive and let go  as completely as he could of the hatred he had carried for Wei Wuxian in the years since the Burial Mounds. It was something Wei Wuxian had wished for him as well, as he’d informed Jiang Cheng during a time spent trapped in a cave awaiting rescue together.
They both knew it wasn’t going to be easy, there was no magic fix-all. They had hurt each other deeply. But his family was everything to Jiang Cheng, and knowing he’d been naive and childish enough to be manipulated into betraying the man he had always thought of as his brother left a sour taste in his mouth and a cold ache in his chest.
How they were going to get there, however, he had no idea. Perhaps he could start with writing to Wei Wuxian; he thought he might find it more freeing than having to be honest with his words, which Jiang Cheng was under no illusions he’d be terrible at.
He would think the matter over carefully before he committed himself, however, it was a delicate situation and something that should be approached with forethought.
Several days after Nie Huaisang had left for Qinghe a small box was delivered to Lotus Pier. It was carved with the beast-head sigil of the Nie sect so he had no questions over who it was from.
Inside was a jade pendant carved in the shape of a nine-petalled lotus flower. The petal tips had all been limned a delicate shade of purple and beneath the pendant was a silver bell and a matching purple tassel. It was an exquisite piece meant to be worn on his belt. Something told him Nie Huaisang had been the one to make it himself and that same something itched vaguely in the heart he thought frozen solid from years of grief.
Still, it was a lot of time and effort to spend on a gift to a friend. He would have to be sure to write and thank him, perhaps send a gift back, although he was under no illusion he wasn’t an artist like Huaisang; any gift would have to be commissioned by him only and therefore perhaps wouldn’t come across as quite as sincere?
He was just drifting off to sleep that night when something clicked in his head; he shot upright in bed.
Wait, what had Nie Huaisang meant about sincere feelings from their times at Cloud Recesses? About allowing themselves to move forward and heal, and accepting that childhood wants that were still valid?
His pulse sped up.
Was he being courted?
The conversation JC refers to with WWX occured in my Day 13 prompt for reference but it’s not necessary to have read for the above
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baoshan-sanren · 4 years
Text
Chapter 16
of the wwx emperor au that’s now more like the terrible horrible time the Lan Sect is having ugh
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2
That evening, it rains.
The rain continues on throughout the night, occasionally softening into a damp mist, before coming down again with vengeance.
The morning comes late, the sky still dark and heavy long after the Lan XiChen rises and moves through his daybreak routine, long after the morning tea is served and consumed in a stifling silence.
The absence of lectures that uncle should be giving them feels like an open wound.
XiChen had left with the Nie Sect Leader without waiting for uncle’s acknowledgment or approval. WangJi had apparently met with the Emperor again, under less than formal circumstances, during his tour of the City. Even two days ago, uncle would have demanded to know why the Nie Sect Leader has become so attentive. He would have demanded to know why WangJi seems to attract the Emperor’s attention at every turn. There would have been scoldings, and warnings, and an evaluation of all the ways that the attention of these two men could bode ill for the Lan Sect.
Uncle is silent.
Perhaps in the view of circumstances, he believes that it is too late for lectures.
But the lack of instruction, the lack of his uncle’s perspective on the matter, is unsettling in every respect.
XiChen is little concerned with his own welfare. Certainly, being accused of attempted murder is not something he should take lightly. Yet, he has lived his entire life being guilty of crimes that he, himself, has not committed. Having one more added to this burden, even one as absurd as the attempted murder of a Sect Leader he hardly knows, did not exactly astound.
In the end, he knows what burden is his to carry. Others can add more as they please, but XiChen has never had a cause to live with regret.
He knows WangJi feels the same, although someone clearly wishes him harm. XiChen’s own horror at the realization that the victim was to be WangJi can hardly be encompassed by words. It is a yawning chasm of terror in his chest that defies definition. But WangJi cares no more for his personal welfare than XiChen does for his own.
XiChen cannot imagine how uncle must feel. If XiChen is incapable of putting his own fears into words, uncle’s must be suffocating.
In the view of all this, it is not surprising that none of them can speak of it. But the day is long before even having started, and XiChen is restless with all the unsaid words.
The poison in WangJi’s cup keeps invading every thought he has. It is there when he remembers Sect Leader Nie helping him rise to his feet. It is there in the memory of the Empress Immortal’s peach trees. It is there in the receiving hall, and in the meditation room, and out in the rainy courtyard. No matter how much he moves around the small space given to them, no matter how he occupies his hands, it is always there, in his periphery.
By midday, the rain has turned into mist again, and XiChen can no longer bear the silence.
“WangJi, will you spar with me?”
The quickness with which WangJi rises to his feet gives away his restlessness as well.
The courtyard is saturated and slippery under their feet. They will both probably end up down in the mud, more than once, but XiChen does not care. No one is there to see them today. No one has come to inform them of the investigation’s progress, or to inquire after their welfare.
After the dry silence of the pavilion, the muddy courtyard and a clash of blades feels like a balm.
“The Emperor often goes barefoot,” WangJi says out of nowhere.
The words are puzzling, and a welcome distraction. XiChen thinks WangJi might elaborate, but he does not.
WangJi slips underneath XiChen’s blade, then slides in the mud, landing on his elbow. XiChen grins. By the time they are done, neither one of them will be fit to be seen. He remembers having to comb mud out of WangJi’s hair a few rare times when they children. WangJi will hate having it done.
“It is difficult to picture him barefoot,” XiChen says.
“Mhm,” WangJi says, his blade a hairsbreadth away from XiChen’s ribs.
He is pushing XiChen with some force, and XiChen is grateful. There is no room for heavy thoughts when one is under constant attack. It is difficult to believe, but WangJi has improved again since the last time they have sparred. He feels pity for the young masters that match up against him in the competition.
“He seems fairly capable, shoes or not,” XiChen says.
“Mhm,” WangJi answers again.
Leaping back to avoid his blade, XiChen lands in the enormous puddle in the west corner of the courtyard. The water splashes up, soaking him throughly. He feels it splatter against the side of his face.
Nearly ankle deep in, he grins. Wangji’s lips twist in an approximation of a smile. On the next swing of the blade, XiChen makes sure he sprays an arc of muddy water in WangJi’s direction. WangJi manages to avoid most of it, but not all. His next attack manages to slice off a corner of XiChen’s robe.
“I think you like the Emperor,” XiChen says.
WangJi loses focus. XiChen’s elbow nearly knocks him flat on his back. Instead, he ends up sitting down into the mud, the expression on his face so comically betrayed that XiChen cannot help but laugh.
Behind them, someone clears their throat.
XiChen turns around, still grinning, expecting to see uncle.
Instead, Sect Leader Nie is standing under the awning, his expression bemused.
“Forgive the interruption,” the man says.
XiChen is too shocked to find any words at all. He can feel muddy water sliding down his neck. His hair is plastered to his face. Every inch of him feels coated in slime, and there is no point to trying to wipe any of it off.
Only moments ago, he had actually been having fun. Now, he is very much aware that every single time Nie MingJue has laid eyes on him, XiChen had been experiencing some form of humiliation.
Their first meeting at the City entrance, the suffocating Greeting Ceremony, being detained by the Emperor’s guard, being accused of attempted murder, and now, standing ankle-deep in mud, wet and dirty like some bedraggled child.
He feels his skin flush with embarrassment, but even shame is completely overshadowed by hopelessness.
Is this to be his fate? To have to face Nie MingJue each time he makes a fool of himself? How is something like this to be endured?
WangJi calmly gets to his feet, dignified even while caked in filth.
“Sect Leader Nie,” he bows.
XiChen quickly follows suit.
“I will let uncle know you are here,” WangJi says, and hastily slips past XiChen, leaving him alone in the the courtyard.
This is WangJi’s payback for that earlier elbow, the one that had knocked him down. XiChen knows this, but still, he is outraged. To be so betrayed by his own brother, in his hour of need.
“Young Master Lan,” Nie MingJue begins, but XiChen, still wishing he had pushed WangJi face down into the mud, waves his hand to interrupt him.
“Please,” he says, “call me XiChen.”
The man has seen him at his worst. There is certainly little use for formality now.
However, he regrets his words only a breath later when Nie MingJue actually repeats his name. The sound of it somehow manages to travel down the entire length of XiChen’s spine, a creeping sensation that makes him shiver.
“Are you cold?” Nie MingJue says.
Before XiChen can fully comprehend what the man means to do, Nie MingJue has already unclasped his cloak and swung it around XiChen, laying it down carefully over his shoulders.
The action brings them close to each other. So close, that XiChen can smell the oil on the sabers strapped across Nie MingJue’s back, and something that reminds him of pine trees covered in frost.
Only when Nie MingJue moves back does XiChen realize that he had been staring at the man, all of his dazed confusion on display.
The door to the pavilion slides open and XiChen jerks at the sound, nearly sliding in the mud again. He feels as if he had been caught doing something indecent.
Nie MingJue turns smoothly, and bows to uncle.
I often hand my cloaks over to wet young masters in muddy courtyards, his posture seems to say, this is nothing that needs be remarked upon.
Uncle looks at Nie MingJue, then at XiChen, his face unreadable.
XiChen hears him utter the smallest of sighs before he speaks,
“Sect Leader Nie. Come inside.”
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