#miles before they even got to the unclean realm

[tanoraqui]

There actually are enough good fics about postcanon tentative reforging of assorted pairs and even the whole of the Gusu Summer School No Brain Cell Trio to satisfy my niche itch, so pls enjoy these stray snippets of a fic I don't have to write:

Nothing would've happened if the cultivation conference wasn't at Cloud Recesses. But it was, Cloud Recesses with its pale stone and gracefully winding walkways and too many memories, including Lan Xichen sitting the whole thing out in seclusion somewhere... If it'd been at the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang would've been busy and if it'd been at Carp Tower the memories only would've been manageably bad, and if it was Lotus Pier or one of many smaller sects, it would've been...fine. Just fine.

But it was Cloud Recesses this year, this first conference since Jin Guangyao's downfall, and specifically it was half past ten at night, and Nie Huaisang was wandering the elegant pathways with a mostly full jar of wine in one hand. The previous jar, now entirely empty, had been left back in his room. He was a Nie, so he was only half as drunk as he'd always used to pretend at these things - but at least twice as drunk as he'd ever actually been.

After da-ge's death, of course. Before that, he used to get plenty drunk. Playfully drunk. With friends.

It would be a terrible idea for him to go appear on Lan Xichen's doorstep. Neither of them was ready for that yet.

So he appeared on Jiang Cheng's.

[ . . . ]

"Fine." Nie Huaisang pouted and turned. "I'll go ask Wei-xiong - "

And Jiang Cheng was easy, he was so easy, he'd always been easy, the only new thing is the faintest edge of wariness to his fury -

He grabbed Nie Huaisang's elbow in a flash and snapped, "Ugh, fine, I'll go - but I'm holding the wine."

Nie Huaisang laughed and handed it over. Jiang Cheng immediately took a deep swig.

[ . . . ]

It must've been a quiet night at the Jingshi. Wei Wuxian's sleeping robes didn't look the least bit hastily pulled on, and his lips were only the slightest bit red and puffy.

[ . . . ]

[for the record, this takes place in a book-show postcanon fusion wherein immediately post-Guanyin Temple, WWX and LWJ ran off to fuck in the bushes at least once a day for as long as possible, but in their absence, various sect leaders voted that Lan Wangji should be Chief Cultivator now, and alas some messenger caught up with them about six months into their honeymoon. Definitely caught them in flagrante delicto. Tragic for all. I’d probably communicate all this hereish somehow. It was definitely NHS who finally tipped someone off on how to actually find them.]

[ . . . ]

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Wei Wuxian said, with a lidded look at Nie Huaisang, and Nie Huaisang burst into a giggles because the two most unequivocally lethal people he knew were afraid to leave each other alone with him, and it was satisfying to be recognized but also what's he going to do, personally? Cry at them? It'd taken him years to destroy Jin Guangyao, and at this point it'd take him months, if not years again to re-destroy the Yiling Patriarch, much less Sandu Shengshou. Especially when they both kept doing things like watching each others backs while pretending they weren't.

[ . . . ]

"Of course we need more!" Wei Wuxian declared. "This isn't even Emperor's Smile!"

[ . . . ]

"It's just a rat or something," Jiang Cheng scoffed.

"So?!" Wei Wuxian cried grandly. "Are we not noble cultivators? Is it not our duty to investigate this woman's complaint, and to slay whatever monster plagues her good inn’s wonderful cellar, whether deathly or monstrous or rodential it be?" He turned to Nie Huaisang and begged, "Help me out, Nie-xiong. You agree with me, right?"

Nie Huaisang clutched his cup against his chest, eyes wide, and shook his head in sharp jerks. "I don't know! I don't know!"

Wei Wuxian laughed and elbowed him in the side.

[ . . . ]

[while waiting for Wei Wuxian to send some sort of signal]

"You know I don't bear any grudge against Jin Ling, right?"

Jiang Cheng's impatient glare snapped to him, darkening with threat; his hand shifted on Sandu's hilt toward a drawing position. "What?"

"I don't bear any sort of grudge against Jin Ling," Nie Huaisang repeated, holding only the last jar of Emperor's Smile. "That's why you've been side-eyeing me all night, right? All conference." He took another sip (it really was the best!) and added recklessly, "If I wanted Jin Ling dead and disgraced, or all Carp Tower burned to ash, they already would be."

Sandu slid an inch out of its scabbard and Nie Huaisang watch it with fascinated curiosity. From a greater distance, he wondered if that was entirely healthy.

"What about Lotus Pier?" Jiang Cheng asked abruptly.

It took Nie Huaisang a blinking moment to focus on him.

"What about Lotus Pier?"

Jiang Cheng sat beside him on the cold earth and yanked the jar out of his hands, cruelly before Nie Huaisang could take another sip.

"Where's your grand terrible vengeance against me and mine? I get it, but if you're being honest for once right now, you could at least tell me when it's going to hit, and how."

"What?" Nie Huaisang pushed himself against his tree trunk, genuinely confused. "Why would i have a terrible vengeance planned against you?"

"I benefitted from Nie Mingjue's death, didn't I?" Jiang Cheng took another swig of wine of his own, and swung the jar illustratively. "My disciples have hunted in your territory while you 'weren't paying attention.' I absolutely fleeced you in that trade deal four years ago. And I worked with that bastard as much as anyone but Lan Xichen, especially on those damn watchtowers, and you broke him. So when's it my turn?" He pointed at Nie Huaisang, finger only wavering slightly. “If you fuck with Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian, or my sect, I will fuck you back.”

"You- oh, gimme that. Gimme. Gimme!" Nie Huaisang leaned forward and tried to grab the wine jar, and more importantly whined until Jiang Cheng handed it to him.

He stared at it for a moment, thrust it back and ordered, “Drink,” without letting it go, and once Jiang Cheng had dutifully tilted it back, pulled it back and slugged down the last swallows. He needed more alcohol for this much honesty, and so did Jiang Cheng.

He set the jar down very carefully, because the ground seemed to be moving, and leaned forward with even more care. He enunciated clearly, “Everyone fleeced me, and hunted in my territory, and I acsh- ass- let them. Why would I expect you to go looking for trouble with Jin Guangyao, when he had your heart locked in a box in his treasure room?”

Jiang Cheng, who was a respected master of all five arts but probably hadn’t actually read poetry for fun since an instructor had officially declared him as such, and who was himself at least a full wine jar in, squinted in angry confusion.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. “He had final say over where and how Jin Ling spent his time, and could’ve tried to poison him against you. What would you have even have done if I had come complaining?”

Jiang Cheng’s face only fell further, with the very sort of drunken moroseness Nie Huaisang was out here to avoid.

Nie Huaisang attempted to swap him sharply. He failed on both the swap and the sharpness. 

“Stoppit! Stop thinking you’re not useful! You weren’t! I needed to pry er-ge away from him and for that only Lan Wangji would work, and I needed someone to watch his back through thick and deadly thin, and to be so disruptive that even Meng Yao couldn’t...circle, sneaky, planning...”

They were waiting for the pulse of a light talisman from the other tunnel entrance, half a mile away. There was a small but very bright explosion. laced with resentful as well as spiritual energy.

“Motherfucker!” Jiang Cheng cursed, leaping to his feet and drawing Sandu in one hideously coordinated motion. 

“Just Lan Wangji, I think,” Nie Huaisang said, because Nie Mingjue himself couldn’t have stopped him. He groped for his own weapons - fan, check; wine jar - 

“Oh no!” 

“What?”  Jiang Cheng snapped, as he bent and dragged Nie Huaisang to his feet with one hand. (Hideously coordinated. Sword people, honestly...)

“He’s going to be so mad that we finished the wine without him!”

[ . . . ]

[three grown-ass men, two sect leaders and one Yiling Patriarch, flying at high speed through Caiyi Town on one sword, all screaming. Nie Huaisang is clinging to Wei Wuxian; Wei Wuxian is flinging to Jiang Cheng, a little bit to Nie Huaisang, and most importantly to a chicken, Jiang Cheng is flying the sword. There is a bedsheet draped over all of them from where they ran into a laundry line. It’s 2am. Again I say, all are screaming]

[ . . . ]

[it probably wasn’t a rat - not just one, at least. Wei Wuxian does something incredibly clever, possibly including a creative use of that bedsheet; Jiang Cheng singlehandedly defeats something in combat, probably after he and Wei Wuxian shove each other out of the way of blows without either of them acknowledging it. Nie Huaisang shoves them both under cover and then with perfect professionalism tells whoever came to check on the ruckus that they handled the problem exactly as planned with absolutely no involvement of alcohol, and the Chief Cultivator will foot the bill for the unfortunately absolutely necessary property damage. Overall, they did handle the problem, but the local cryptid they were chasing will only have its reputation swelled and its continued existence assumed by all locals. it is possible that they themselves made this cryptid up two decades ago, but idk how heavy-handed we want to be.]

[ . . . ]

Nie Huaisang was leaning heavily on Wei Wuxian by the time they got back to the guest quarters. He could hold his alcohol, he was a goddamn Nie, and frankly he’d had it adrenalined out of him at least twice this evening. But he’d also had rather a lot, and he didn’t have Jiang Cheng’s golden core or Wei Wuxian’s blithe lack of sleep schedule. 

“I missed this,” he admitted, head on Wei Wuxian’s (Mo Xuanyu’s) shoulder while Jiang Cheng opened the door.

Wei Wuxian leaned his head on Nie Huaisang’s. “Me too.”

“You’re both fucking annoying,” Jiang Cheng grouched, which meant, Me too.

Wei Wuxian stripped off Nie Huaisang’s muddy outer robe and tucked him into bed, and Jiang Cheng poured a glass of water from the pitcher by the door, drank it, poured another, scowled at Wei Wuxian for a moment, and set it on the bedside table. Wei Wuxian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, finished with Nie Huaisang and started backing out of the room.

Nie Huaisang sat up more or less abruptly. “Both of you have got to stop that bullshit. I miss my brothers, okay? I’d I had a second chance...” He sagged back down with the plural, and flung an arm over his damp eyes. There was a glimmer in the sky; it’d be morning by Lan standards soon. “I fucking miss them.”

“...Ah,” said Wei Wuxian, who always spoke even when he didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said abruptly, and, “Drink your fucking water.” And the door slammed behind him as he walked out.

[...a few lines of dialogue later...]

“Seriously, you can go.” Nie Huaisang flicked a few tired fingers in dismissal.

“Are you sure?” Wei Wuxian added with an audible smirk, “Because if I stay up for another half hour, I can wake Lan Zhan with a morning...big ol’...loving...”

Nie Huaisang finally adjusted his arm to crack one eye up at him.

“People usually cut me off before I get that far,” Wei Wuxian admitted.

[ . . . a bit more dialogue and the end.]

#mdzs #the untamed #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #to the shick of no one i did write more in this than i thought i would #it's still like...no connective tissue though #and i'm not bothering with anything more #my fic #ficlet #i'm not gonna lie that plural snuck up on me #love when that happens! #incidentally you can’t prove that there ISNT a classic ancient fantasy China version of a telltale heart so my reference stands

[bloody-bee-tea]

Heal my soul

Jiang Cheng is shaking so hard he is afraid he’ll fall clean off his sword, but he pushes on regardless, Nie Huaisang’s letter clenched in his hand.

It speaks of horrible things; qi deviations and damage so great that Nie Mingjue had to be put into a preserving coma, giving them time to assess the damage and decide if it was too great to heal or not.

Jiang Cheng grits his jaw when he remembers that passage. There is no damage that is too great to heal, especially not when it comes to his husband.

Jiang Cheng makes the fly to the Unclean Realm in record time, feeling faint and shaky once he steps off his sword and he isn’t entirely sure if it is because of his worry for Nie Mingjue or because he thoroughly exhausted himself.

It doesn’t matter either way; he is here and he will see his husband now.

“Wanyin,” Nie Huaisang wails as soon as he sees him and throws himself into Jiang Cheng’s arms.

Jiang Cheng is stunned, but he dutifully catches Nie Huaisang and then he holds him close for a moment.

“How is he?” he asks, voice low and Nie Huaisang’s sob is all the answer he needs.

Jiang Cheng’s heart sinks in his chest, but he tries to remind himself that Nie Mingjue isn’t dead; as long as he’s not dead, Jiang Cheng will be able to do something for him.

“Come,” Nie Huaisang eventually says and drags Jiang Cheng off to see Nie Mingjue. He was put on a bed, laying still and pale as Jiang Cheng has ever seen him and even though they haven’t been husbands long—barely longer than half a year at this point—Jiang Cheng knows enough to know that this is not natural.

Nie Mingjue never is this still.

“Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng breathes out and rushes to his side where he takes Nie Mingjue’s hand in his.

He immediately checks his meridians and he jerks back when he sees the damage the qi deviation did to his system.

“Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng chokes out, horrified to see just how he has been hurt, but also filled with a strange feeling of pride, because anyone else would have succumbed to these injuries a long time ago.

That Nie Mingjue is still alive—that his people were able to put him into this preserving sleep at all—speaks to a strength Jiang Cheng didn’t think possible.

“How is it?” Nie Huaisang quietly asks him and Jiang Cheng lets out a harsh breath.

“I need to take him with me,” he says, carefully putting Nie Mingjue’s hand back onto the bed.

“What? No!” Nie Huaisang immediately says, and he flicks open his fan in a nervous gesture. “You can’t take da-ge,” he says again, more vehemently and Jiang Cheng levels him with a look.

“This is why you chose me as his spouse,” he lowly says, trying not to let that thought hurt him more than it already does. “To heal him. So let me.”

“Jiang-xiong,” Nie Huaisang starts, but Jiang Cheng is not interested in hearing what he has to say for himself.

He knows damn well that the rumoured healing abilities of the Yunmeng Jiang are the only reason he even came up as a spouse and since this is all Nie Mingjue will ever want from him, he will damn well do his job.

“Huaisang, he comes with me,” Jiang Cheng says again, channelling his Sect Leader authority, and Nie Huaisang stills behind his fan.

“You came alone.”

“So prepare a carriage for us. You can even send that right hand man of his to keep an eye on me if it makes you feel better. I’ll accommodate him, too,” Jiang Cheng says and he feels sick that he even has to bargain with Nie Huaisang like that.

Nie Mingjue’s life is on the line; there shouldn’t even be a question that they have to do everything they can to save him.

“It’s not—will he survive the travel?” Nie Huaisang asks, his voice small and low and Jiang Cheng realizes that it’s just the worry for his brother that makes him unreasonable.

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng gives back, because he will make sure that Nie Mingjue does.

“Okay,” Nie Huaisang whispers and immediately leaves the room, presumably to make the necessary arrangements.

Jiang Cheng takes the opportunity to sit on Nie Mingjue’s bed again. He takes his hand back up and presses the back of it against his forehead, breaths deliberately deep and steady.

“Don’t do this to me,” Jiang Cheng whispers. “We didn’t even have our one year anniversary yet,” he goes on, even though he knows that this was always a possibility.

Nie Mingjue made no secret out of this; made no secret out of the fact that Jiang Cheng would be a very young widower.

Well, he clearly didn’t count on Jiang Cheng’s stubbornness.

The journey back to Lotus Pier is uneventful, though it drags on and on since they can’t rush it with their precious cargo.

Nie Zonghui keeps looking at Jiang Cheng as if he expects to make a move against Nie Mingjue at any moment now, and if Jiang Cheng wasn’t so worried, if he wasn’t so glad that Nie Mingjue had good people by his side like this, then he’d be pretty damn angry with even the implication that he would harm Nie Mingjue.

He’s not the one who married out of convenience after all.

When they finally reach Lotus Pier, Jiang Cheng immediately brings Nie Mingjue into the special healing chamber his family used.

Jiang Cheng debated not rebuilding it with the rest of Lotus Pier at first, because mostly his mother used it whenever she suffered a qi deviation, and Jiang Cheng surprisingly isn’t prone to them himself. But in the end he decided to simply rebuild Lotus Pier as he used to know it; who knew when the chamber would come in handy.

And he is glad for it now, because it means that Nie Mingjue even has a fighting chance of recovering from this.

Jiang Cheng activates the healing array carved into the chamber and once he kicked everyone else out, he immediately goes to work.

He knows how to repair the damage done to Nie Mingjue’s meridians but it will take time; it will take a lot of time, Jiang Cheng realizes once he finished his first thorough examination of Nie Mingjue. The damage is almost irreversible and it will take weeks—if not months—to heal him.

But Jiang Cheng is up for that; there isn’t a thing he won’t do for those he loves and if it means he practically has to live in the chamber as well, then he will do it.

Except, of course, that isn’t how it goes because Jin Ling is still there, and he still needs his jiu-jiu more than anyone else, so of course Jiang Cheng can’t live in the chamber.

His Sect still needs guidance as well, even though they are pretty self-sufficient, and so Jiang Cheng limits himself to two hours in the morning and two hours in the evening by Nie Mingjue’s side. He squeezes in an hour during lunch as well whenever he can manage, but he isn’t happy with it at all.

It will take forever this way, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t want Nie Mingjue to suffer more than he really has to. But he doesn’t trust anyone else with healing Nie Mingjue either, and so he grits his teeth and continues with his job.

It is only weeks in, that Jiang Cheng realizes that the qi deviation doesn’t have natural causes.

“What the fuck,” he mumbles as he brushed his qi over the same spot again and again, until he can coax the imprint of a song and some lingering residual qi out of Nie Mingjue’s body.

Jiang Cheng isn’t familiar with the qi, but he knows that there are only two people playing music for Nie Mingjue to help with the qi deviations and he feels hot rage bubble up inside of him when he realizes that one of Nie Mingjue’s sworn brothers must have done it. Or maybe even both.

Zidian sparks on his hand with that realisation and Jiang Cheng quickly removes his hand from Nie Mingjue, unwilling to hurt him even on accident.

But Jiang Cheng can’t be sure, because he doesn’t recognize the qi and so he calls for Nie Zonghui.

“What is it?” Nie Zonghui asks once he is inside the chamber and Jiang Cheng can see the worry clear on his face.

“Come here,” he orders and then he guides Nie Zonghui through the process that led him to uncover this.

“Do you recognize the qi?” he asks him once he is sure that Nie Zonghui understands the implications of what they just found but Nie Zonghui shakes his head.

“No, I don’t. Neither Zewu-jun nor Lianfang-zun allow people to sit in when they play for Mingjue. I always thought it was because they feared he would be distracted, but—”

“Maybe not,” Jiang Cheng finishes weakly and then he shakes his head.

“Who would know?”

“Huaisang,” Nie Zonghui says and Jiang Cheng’s brow raises with the familiar address until Nie Zonghui blushes faintly.

“I’ll write him,” Jiang Cheng finally says, unwilling to embarrassed Nie Zonghui any further and he leaves Nie Mingjue in the capable hands of his most trusted man.

Nie Huaisang arrives in Lotus Pier a few days later, the urgency of the letter clearly not lost on him.

“What is going on?” he demands to know and Jiang Cheng leads him into the healing chamber without further explanation.

He guides Nie Huaisang through the same things he showed Nie Zonghui and when they reach the lingering qi, Nie Huaisang’s face darkens.

“San-ge,” he whispers and Jiang Cheng is filled with so much rage that his entire vision goes red.

Zidian sparks on his hand but Jiang Cheng forces himself to calm down. Jin Guangyao isn’t here; there’s no need to lose control like this.

“How do you even know something like this?” Nie Huaisang asks and while the attempt at a distraction is painfully obvious, it’s also painfully effective.

“My mother got qi deviations,” Jiang Cheng tells him, aiming for calm, but probably missing by a mile. “I was tasked with healing her, and the qi deviations weren’t always of a natural course. Not all of them stemmed from her temper; sometimes the faint imprint of my father’s uncaring words would linger behind in her meridians,” Jiang Cheng admits and speaking of his family like this doesn’t hurt as much as it probably should have.

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang whispers and Jiang Cheng awkwardly shrugs.

“It’s in the past.”

They sit in silence for a moment, before Nie Zonghui knocks to announce his arrival.

“Zewu-jun and Lianfang-zun are here to see Mingjue,” he tells them and the rage rises in Jiang Cheng as if it never left in the first place.

“I will deal with them,” Nie Huaisang quickly says, eying the sparking Zidian with worry and Jiang Cheng reaches out for his sleeve.

“I want him dead,” Jiang Cheng says, because this is the only thing he can think right now.

Jin Guangyao is the reason Jiang Cheng almost became a widower; he is the reason Nie Huaisang has to lead a Sect he was never meant to lead. Jiang Cheng wants him to pay for that.

“I don’t care how you do it, but I want him dead.”

Nie Huaisang flicks his fan open to hide his calculating look but Jiang Cheng knows him better than that. They spent a year studying together and he has watched how effortlessly Nie Huaisang took over as Sect Leader.

He is by far not as innocent as he seems.

“He will be,” is all Nie Huaisang eventually says and then he leaves Jiang Cheng and Nie Mingjue behind.

Jiang Cheng is definitely looking forward to Jin Guangyao’s eventual demise.

~*~*~

“Jiu-jiu, why are you always in that one room?” Jin Ling asks him one day during lunch and Jiang Cheng figures that he should maybe tell his nephew that his husband is in there.

“I will show you,” he promises him and Jin Ling immediately bounces in his seat with excitement.

He does take Jin Ling there after lunch, but before they enter the chamber he stops him with a hand to his shoulder.

“Nie Mingjue is in there,” he explains and Jin Ling hangs on to his every word with big eyes. “He’s my husband, even though you might not really remember that. He’s been hurt and he is sleeping for now. You have to be quiet and careful with him,” Jiang Cheng instructs Jin Ling, who immediately calms down.

“I remember that,” Jin Ling says, clearly proud of himself for that and Jiang Cheng smiles slightly.

Jin Ling just turned five so while he might remember that Jiang Cheng is married, Jiang Cheng is sure that he doesn’t understand quite just what being married means.

“Good boy,” he still praises Jin Ling and then he pushes the door open to reveal Nie Mingjue, who is still sleeping but looking better by the day.

“He’s so huge,” Jin Ling whispers and then slaps a hand over his mouth, carefully looking up at Jiang Cheng.

“He is,” he agrees with a slight smile and imagines how imposing Nie Mingjue must look to someone as small as Jin Ling.

“Why is he sleeping in here?” Jin Ling asks and Jiang Cheng picks him up to settle him on his lap as he sits down next to Nie Mingjue.

“Because he is hurt and this chamber helps him heal,” Jiang Cheng explains and he goes a little bit misty eyed when Jin Ling reaches out to pet Nie Mingjue’s hand.

“Yifu has to wake up soon,” he whispers, deliberately keeping his eyes on Nie Mingjue. “Jiu-jiu has been sad without you.”

“A-Ling,” Jiang Cheng breathes out and presses Jin Ling closer to his chest, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Jiu-jiu, too strong,” Jin Ling complaints and Jiang Cheng immediately loosens his arms, but he doesn’t let him go completely, and Jin Ling doesn’t wriggle out of his embrace.

“Listen, you have to talk to him,” Jin Ling suddenly says and looks up at Jiang Cheng. “He’s just laying there, it’s so boring! You have to tell him about your day!”

Jiang Cheng chuckles slightly, because even though it’s a healing sleep and Nie Mingjue is unlikely to hear anything that is being said to him, that’s exactly what Jiang Cheng has been doing for a while now.

“Why don’t you tell him something, for a change? I’m sure he’s tired of hearing my voice by now,” Jiang Cheng gently encourages Jin Ling who pouts up at him.

“Not true, jiu-jiu’s voice is the best,” Jin Ling declares, but then he does dive right into a recollection of his past week at Lotus Pier.

Jiang Cheng knows most of it already, of course, but he’s happy to stay and listen to Jin Ling blabber away.

He tries not to think about the fact that being with the two people he loves the most is strangely comforting, because Nie Mingjue is still unconscious and hurt after all, but it’s exactly what he’s thinking about.

Jiang Cheng can’t even be mad at himself for that.

~*~*~

Nie Mingjue wakes up four months after his qi deviation.

Jiang Cheng isn’t around to see it, but Nie Zonghui immediately calls for him once it happens, so at least Jiang Cheng has some time to steel himself to come face to face with Nie Mingjue.

He is still in the chamber when Jiang Cheng comes to see him, clearly too weak to immediately walk somewhere else, but he’s sitting up and he looks healthy and that is really all Jiang Cheng ever wanted for him.

“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue greets him and Jiang Cheng bows slightly to him. “None of that,” Nie Mingjue chastises him and beckons him closer. “I hear my recovery is thanks to you,” Nie Mingjue says with a small smile and Jiang Cheng nods, unsure what he’s supposed to say to that.

It was a lot easier to talk to Nie Mingjue when he was still sleeping, Jiang Cheng finds himself thinking and then immediately afterwards he wants to kick himself.

Nothing is better than having Nie Mingjue being awake and obviously healthy again.

“I only did my duty,” Jiang Cheng presses out and bows his head towards Nie Mingjue again. “I already wrote to Huaisang, he will no doubt be coming soon to take you back to Qinghe,” Jiang Cheng forces himself to say, because he knows that this is what Nie Mingjue wants.

He never did well with being apart from his Sect, and he must be anxious to get back to it.

“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue says and even without looking up Jiang Cheng can tell that there’s a frown on his face. “What are you talking about?”

“You must be anxious to go home,” Jiang Cheng says, without meeting Nie Mingjue’s eyes.

“Aren’t I home?” Nie Mingjue asks and it’s so surprising that it startles Jiang Cheng into looking at him. “You’re my husband, are you not? Doesn’t that make Lotus Pier my home, too?” Nie Mingjue wants to know and while it’s everything that Jiang Cheng ever wanted to hear, he shakes his head.

“Please,” he almost scoffs out. “We both know this marriage isn’t about that.”

“What is this marriage about then?” Nie Mingjue asks and he sounds honestly curious.

Jiang Cheng can’t even find it in him to hate Nie Mingjue a little bit for making Jiang Cheng say it.

“About this,” he says with a gesture to the room. “I’m pretty sure Nie Huaisang only brought up my name back then because of this. Because I could probably heal you if something should go wrong. And I did, so I guess I served my purpose,” Jiang Cheng bitterly says.

There’s a long moment of silence before Nie Mingjue speaks again and it makes Jiang Cheng uneasy.

“This is not why I married you,” Nie Mingjue eventually speaks up, his voice low and soft and Jiang Cheng can’t help the snort that comes out at that.

Of course it’s why Nie Mingjue married him. Jiang Cheng doesn’t know why he is so intent on pretending anything else now.

“It was the reason your name first came up, that’s right,” Nie Mingjue goes on, and Jiang Cheng’s heart drops right to the floor at hearing his fears confirmed. “But it’s not why I agreed to marry you in the end.”

“Right,” Jiang Cheng huffs out. “What are the reasons then?” he demands to know, his voice bitter and angry but when he looks at Nie Mingjue he deflates.

The look on Nie Mingjue’s face is entirely too soft for Jiang Cheng to take.

“I married you because you’re strong and fierce. Because you love with your whole heart and you would die to protect those you love. I married you because you’re beautiful and sharp and one of the strongest Sect Leader I know. Yes, your name first came up because of your healing abilities; but I would have never married you out of such selfish reasons,” Nie Mingjue says. “I married you because I wanted to. Because I fell in love with you.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out and he inexplicably feels like crying.

“Why did you marry me? If you think I only married you because of what you can do for me, then why did you agree?” Nie Mingjue asks him and Jiang Cheng blushes.

“I’m not good with words,” he mumbles, anxiously turning Zidian on his finger. “I can’t give you a half dozen reasons why I married you.”

“Just give me one,” Nie Mingjue whispers and reaches out to take Jiang Cheng’s hand in his. “Just give me one reason.”

“Because I’m in love with you,” Jiang Cheng admits, even though his face feels like it’s going to go up in flames.

There are a dozen different things he could say about Nie Mingjue and why he first caught his eye and how he managed to keep it, but Jiang Cheng’s throat closes up just thinking about saying them out loud.

When Nie Mingjue raises the hand he just took to press a kiss to the back of it, Jiang Cheng thinks that maybe he doesn’t have to say them all right now for Nie Mingjue to understand.

“I’m not going back yet,” Nie Mingjue tells him once Jiang Cheng feels like he can breathe again and it’s enough to make Jiang Cheng look at Nie Mingjue again.

“What?”

“I have to recuperate and I would like to do it here,” Nie Mingjue says with a small shrug. “I am aware that the first few months of our marriage weren’t all that perfect, but this might be our chance. I hear Huaisang is doing pretty well as Sect Leader; let him lead for a while longer. I think I deserve a break after what happened.”

The truth about the qi deviation is on the tip of Jiang Cheng’s tongue, but in the end he doesn’t say anything. He decides to wait for Nie Huaisang, who will be better at explaining than Jiang Cheng is, but deep down Jiang Cheng knows that it’s just out of a selfish desire to not shatter the moment right now.

“I would like that,” Jiang Cheng whispers and when Nie Mingjue tugs on his hand to bring him closer, Jiang Cheng easily follows.

“And I distantly remember someone calling me yifu,” Nie Mingjue mutters and presses a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head as he tucks him into his side. “Did I dream that?”

“No, you didn’t,” Jiang Cheng says with a slight chuckle, because ever since he took Jin Ling here for the first time, the boy has made it a point to come at least every other day to talk to Nie Mingjue about his day.

“I’d like to hear it in person,” Nie Mingjue admits and Jiang Cheng smiles down at their still intertwined hands.

“There’s nothing that will stop him from saying it again once he hears you’re awake,” Jiang Cheng says, because he knows his nephew and Jin Ling will be so excited to hear that Nie Mingjue is awake.

Nie Mingjue sighs at that and Jiang Cheng cranes his head to look at him worriedly.

“I’m sorry about how the first few months of our marriage went,” Nie Mingjue says and brushes his lips over Jiang Cheng’s forehead. “I’m going to make it up to you,” he promises.

“You’re in luck,” Jiang Cheng says with a slight smile and a faint blush. “You woke up in time for your one year anniversary.”

A sparkle enters Nie Mingjue’s eyes at that and Jiang Cheng briefly wonders what he got himself into, but then Nie Mingjue presses a whispered “Good,” right into Jiang Cheng lips and every and any thought flees his head.

If this is how Nie Mingjue is going to make it up to him, then Jiang Cheng doesn’t mind that at all.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #hurt/comfort #fluff #married couple #misunderstandings #love confessions

[robininthelabyrinth]

Light on the Door (ao3) (WWX in the Nie sect) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2

-

“Absolutely not,” Nie Mingjue said.

“I know this has come as a surprise to you,” Jiang Fengmian said, and his voice was calm and pleasant the way it always was. Reasonable. “But you must understand that –”

Nie Mingjue held up a hand. “Perhaps I was unclear, Sect Leader Jiang,” he said. “Let me clarify: absolutely fucking not.”

Jiang Fengmian was not an easy man to anger, nor did Nie Mingjue truly want to do so: he needed as many allies in the inevitable war against the Wens as he could manage. If he was smart the way Jin Guangshan was always encouraging him to be, he would soften his words, smile, try to make things palatable – but he was not Jin Guangshan, and he had never bent on a matter of principle.

Especially not when the principle was small and young and still unsure of himself underneath his bravado, afraid of losing all that he had gained in a single moment.

“His father was my right hand,” Jiang Fengmian said, a rare frown creasing his face. “The Jiang sect would raise him as his father had intended.”

“His father is dead,” Nie Mingjue rebutted. “And before he died, he was a rogue cultivator – your Jiang sect has no claim here.”

“Legally, no,” Jiang Fengmian said. “But morally –”

“He joined my Nie sect willingly,” Nie Mingjue interrupted. His hands are clenched into fists behind his back: of course this would be the thing that Jiang Fengmian refused to bend on, it was different when it was his family that died, their legacy he wished to see fulfilled, and never mind about the murderer that still walked free and unhindered even by mere criticism. Never mind that that had been a father, too. “As is his right. If he wishes to go, I will not stop him –”

There was a moment there where Jiang Fengmian looked pleased, as if he thought Nie Mingjue was giving in.

“– but I do not understand him to want to,” he finished. “And no, before you ask, I will not let you bully him and bribe him until he does as you wish; as long as he is part of my Nie sect, he will be protected even from that.”

“Am I not even allowed to make the offer?” Jiang Fengmian asked, clear challenge in his voice. He even permitted his qi to flare up, cultivation acting to suppress those in the area – absolutely inappropriate, a tremendous breach of etiquette that could only barely be ascribed to Jiang Fengmian’s emotional state rather than a deliberate desire to intimidate.

Nie Mingjue kept his back straight despite the pressure. No one would blame him for faltering, not even his sect elders; the pressure was immense, and he was in the end only sixteen years old, his body not yet fully formed or even fully grown despite him already being taller than Jiang Fengmian –

But he had his pride. His pride, and Baxia, and the Nie sabers did not bend for anyone.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” he said, allowing his rage into his voice. “Control yourself, or you will not see him at all.”

Jiang Fengmian closed his eyes briefly, recalling his power; there was a hint of apology on his features when he opened them again – perhaps it really had been a mistake. Either way, it didn’t matter.

“Do you know what that sort of pressure can do to someone who’s not yet of age?” Nie Mingjue demanded, crossing his arms. “If Wei Ying was harmed because of you –”

“I would never hurt Wei Ying! Or any other child!”

“Perhaps,” Nie Mingjue said, omitting to mention that by some measures he already had. “Perhaps not, if he refused you; you’re not exactly demonstrating dignity in the face of being told ‘no’ right now.”

Jiang Fengmian’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t say anything – he had, in fact, been intolerably rude. He took a deep breath, calming himself forcefully, and then focused on Nie Mingjue.

“His father was my closest friend,” he said, and there was a touch of real pain in his voice. “His mother was very dear to me. I only wish what’s best for him. If he comes back with me, I would make him a direct disciple –”

“So will I,” Nie Mingjue said.

That got a reaction out of Jiang Fengmian beyond anger and selfishness.

“A direct disciple of your Nie clan?” he asked, clearly shocked. “But your clan – there’s only you and your brother in the main line!”

“I’m aware.”

“You don’t seriously mean that you would risk the inheritance of your sect –”

“I have already announced it to my sect,” Nie Mingjue said. “Three weeks ago. If what you want is what’s best for him…other than stories of his parents, which you could give him without taking him away, is there anything else you can find lacking and insufficient in my Nie sect?”

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” Jiang Fengmian said, suddenly belatedly cautious.

“You did,” Nie Mingjue said flatly. “You persist in treating me as a child when I am a sect leader, the same as you. I have told you that the answer is no, and that the answer will remain no. You are in Qinghe, Sect Leader Jiang; if you’re going to insult me to my face, I suggest you pick better ground.”

Jiang Fengmian bit his lip and looked down. “You will not let me take him.”

“I will not,” Nie Mingjue agreed. And then, because Wei Ying really did deserve to know his parents, he added, “But I would be willing to consider something else.”

Jiang Fengmian looked up. “What do you mean?”

Nie Mingjue shrugged, having just thought of the idea himself. “You have children around his age, don’t you? Send them to the Unclean Realm for a season, and I’ll send Wei Ying and my brother to the Lotus Pier for another season in return – it’s not an uncommon arrangement to build relationships between sects.”

An extremely old-fashioned and out-of-date one – nowadays, heirs would only go for long-term visits if there was a real reason to go, like Teacher Lan’s lessons; even the Lan sect, which was close allies to the Nie, would only come to visit for a few weeks.

But it was something he could offer. Something that would make clear to Wei Ying that he wasn’t being abandoned or given away or sold; with Nie Huaisang by his side, he would always remember that he was a part of the Nie sect first and foremost, and get some good experience in the world besides.

“I would like that,” Jiang Fengmian said slowly. “Yes – I would like that a great deal.”

“We’ll work out the details, then,” Nie Mingjue said. The sooner this meeting was over, the better; he wanted to go scream and hit something. “Is there anything else?”

“One more thing.”

Scream. And hit things. Many, many things.

“Yes?”

“You call him Wei Ying,” Jiang Fengmian said. “Have you thought of a courtesy name for him yet?”

He had offered the man an inch and he was trying to take a mile, but Nie Mingjue could see the desperate hope on his face, the need for him to leave some mark of the Jiang sect on Wei Ying – to honor his parents’ legacy or to make up for having failed them, it didn’t matter which.

Perhaps this would convince the man to finally drop the issue for good.

“I would be willing to listen to any suggestions you might have,” Nie Mingjue finally allowed, still hedging in case it was something really inappropriate. “What did you have in mind?”

-

“Wei Wuxian has a good ring to it,” Nie Huaisang said thoughtfully once the horrible meeting was finally over and they could creep out of their hiding spot to stretch their legs. It was getting a bit cramped in there. “And I suppose it really was the very least da-ge could do, after having all but told him off to his face – especially since the Jiang clan really is quite powerful. I’m really very proud of da-ge for managing to keep his temper as well as he did; we should do something nice for him in return. Don’t you think?”

He paused for a moment.

When he didn’t receive a response, he frowned. “Wei Ying?”

“Is that what a direct disciple means?” Wei Ying said, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

“What?”

“A direct disciple,” Wei Ying repeated. His face was frozen stiff, maybe from shock or something. “You said it meant I’d be a member of the family.”

“That is what it means.”

“Yes, but you didn’t – you never said – being a direct disciple puts me in line to inherit the Nie sect?”

“Well, yes,” Nie Huaisang said, scratching the back of his head a little. He had no idea why Wei Ying was behaving so strangely. “I mean, the Nie clan runs the Nie sect, and we’re the Nie clan, so joining the Nie clan obviously means – ”

“There’s nothing obvious about it!” Wei Ying exclaimed. “You have cousins! Cousins and aunts and uncles and – there’s so many of them I can barely even keep count –”

“Branch families after many, many years,” Nie Huaisang said with a shrug. “But Qinghe Nie doesn’t make everyone with a drop of blood in them a direct disciple; you have to be part of the main family for that.”

“But…!”

“But what?”

“It’s your sect,” Wei Ying said. “My surname isn’t even Nie!”

“Well, first off, stop assuming you’re going to inherit the sect because that requires both my brother and I to be dead,” Nie Huaisang said. “Which we have no current plans to be. Secondly, if you did end up as the only direct disciple left, you’d be required to marry in with one of the cousins and have Nie babies before you were allowed to actually be sect leader. So for the sake of your future marriage, you have to keep us alive –”

Wei Ying grabbed him into a hug.

“Thank you,” he said, and Nie Huaisang very nobly decided not to complain about how his tears and snot were getting his very nice robes all wet. “I don’t know why you want me, but you do, and – thank you.”

“Of course we want you, you’re great,” Nie Huaisang said, delicately patting Wei Ying on the back. “Look at you, not just one sect wanting you, there are two fighting over you; how many people can say that…?”

“He wants my parents, not me,” Wei Ying said. “If I went there, he’d love me for them, and if I didn’t have anyone else, that’d be good enough – but da-ge picked me for no reason at all, and you grabbed onto me just because –”

“I mean, I did have some ulterior motives, I do so much less saber training now that you’re here –”

“Just accept the compliment.”

Nie Huaisang grinned. “Okay, fine. Besides, you can finally stop saying you need to pay me back now!”

Wei Ying pulled back and wiped his eyes. “How’s that?”

“Didn’t you hear da-ge? You’ve just gotten me a free vacation to Yunmeng for a whole season! It’s going to be great!”

“I hope so,” Wei Ying said. “We’ll be spending a lot of time with the Jiang sect heirs…I hope they’re as nice as Lan Zhan.”

Nie Huaisang patted him on the shoulder. “Just accept it now, Wei Ying. No one’s ever going to be as perfect as Lan Zhan in your eyes.”

“Shut up. Do you know anything about them?”

“The Jiang sect heirs? There’s a girl and a boy, that’s all I know. They’re too young to be the subjects of gossip, though, so I can’t tell you anything about their likes and dislikes.”

“That’s fine,” Wei Ying said. “I guess we’ll find out when we see them.”

-

“Your dog is wonderful,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Thanks,” Wei Ying said, beaming. He liked the other boy already. “Yours are pretty great, too!”

“They are, aren’t they?” Jiang Cheng said, face lighting up. “This one’s Jasmine, and this one’s Princess, and the last one’s Lovely!”

“Mine’s Xiao Bai! And he’s big enough to be three dogs all together!”

“No kidding! I’ve never seen a dog that big! Why’s he that big?”

“Dunno. Da-ge says he’s a sheepdog from the mountain, and they get really big there.”

“Do they have to fight bears or something? I bet he could fight a bear.”

“Well, maybe if he had to,” Wei Ying said. “Unfortunately, I kind of raised him into a glutton, so now all he wants to do is lie around and eat meat –”

Xiao Bai barked.

“...and he knows the word for ‘meat’.”

“He’s so smart,” Jiang Cheng said, reaching out to rub Xiao Bai behind the ears. “Such a good boy –”

“Please tell me you like something other than dogs,” Nie Huaisang said to Jiang Yanli, who hid a giggle behind her sleeves. “Please. I can already foresee the rest of the season going like this.”

“Well, dogs are very distracting creatures,” she said, her eyes curving into crescents. “They’re warm and furry and all that. But I’d be happy to talk about something else with you…do you like painting?”

“Very much,” Nie Huaisang said, interest piqued at once. “Do you paint?”

“I’m average,” she said with a small shrug. “But I enjoy it. You’re welcome to join me, if you like – I don’t think A-Cheng and Wei Wuxian are going to stop anytime soon.”

“A-Ying can do it for hours all on his own,” Nie Huaisang said mournfully. “He used to be afraid of dogs, you know? I almost miss those days…can we really go paint?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well, I mean, I don’t know. We were sent here to learn, weren’t we? I thought it’d be lessons all the time. ‘Go to the training field!’, that sort of thing.”

Jiang Yanli smiled and visibly resisted the urge to pat his head. “Some lessons are taught outside of the training field. Do you know the motto of Yunmeng Jiang?”

“Uh,” Nie Huaisang said. Memorization had never been a strong point. “I mean…”

“It’s ‘attempt the impossible’,” Jiang Yanli told him. “To live bravely, without restraints on your heart.”

“So,” Nie Huaisang said, trying to parse it, “you get to do whatever you want?”

“Not quite,” she laughed. “But we get more freedom to govern ourselves than most, yes. I don’t train too much – I don’t have much talent, you see.”

“Neither do I!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, beaming. “But da-ge’s always pushing me to do better, work harder, try more…”

He trailed off when he saw the wistful, almost envious expression on Jiang Yanli’s face.

“…don’t you like not being forced to cultivate?” he asked, a little hesitant.

“Your brother loves you very much,” Jiang Yanli said. “He only wants what’s best for you. He pushes you because he thinks you can do it.”

Nobody pushed her because nobody believed in her, she meant, and even Nie Huaisang – a devoted good-for-nothing – felt awkward about it.

She didn’t even have a sword.

“Well, don’t worry,” he said, clumsily trying to offer some comfort. “You’re coming to Qinghe next season, aren’t you? You’ll get more than your fill of people pushing you to do things there!”

“I’m sure,” Jiang Yanli said, not sounding as if she believed him at all. “But for the moment – do you want to go paint? And perhaps later we can convince A-Cheng and Wei Wuxian to go shoot kites while we pick lotus seeds.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” Nie Huaisang said. “And maybe we can go to the market and see if they have any fans? I have a collection, you know.”

“Well,” Jiang Yanli said, smiling again. “If you have a collection, then of course…”

-

“I’m not sure I’m entirely suited for this, Sect Leader Nie,” Jiang Yanli said, breathing hard.

“I don’t see why not,” Nie Mingjue said, putting Baxia up on his shoulder. “Take a walk around the yard so you don’t get cramped while your heart-rate comes down, then we can start again.”

“Sect Leader Nie, with all due respect, I wasn’t really intending on picking up something new – much less saber, which isn’t even practiced in the Jiang sect.”

“Well, you have to train in something, you didn’t bring your sword, and all we’ve got are sabers,” he pointed out with a shrug. “What else were you planning on doing while you were here?”

Jiang Yanli smiled a little. “Feminine activities?”

Nie Mingjue let his eyes drift over to the nearby field where three of his aunts were pulverizing a training model that looked almost startlingly similar to one of his uncles.

Jiang Yanli coughed as if she could hide the laugh. “I admit I was more in mind of – cooking. Or sewing, or painting…”

“You can do that in your free time,” Nie Mingjue said briskly. “Nie Huaisang sang your praises in every one of his letters; the least I can do to repay you is making sure you get the full benefit of your time here. Consider it a gift.”

Jiang Yanli did not seem especially pleased by the gift. Her face did exactly the same sort of ‘thanks I hate it’ twist as Nie Huaisang’s.

He wondered idly what excuse she was going to try next. She might not realize it yet, but she wasn’t going to have any more luck than Nie Huaisang had ever had.

“Sect Leader Nie…don’t you think I’m too old for this?”

He stared at her. “You’re joking.”

“Most sword cultivators start in their childhood –”

“You’re fourteen.”

“It’s more difficult to pick things up once you get above ten,” she said with a shrug. “There’s nothing to do about it –”

“Pick a skill you’re good at,” he said. “Any skill, and teach it to me.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“You’re not that much younger than me, and I can still pick up new things,” Nie Mingjue said. “You teach me a skill, and I’ll teach you one, and that way we’ll be fair – and if I really can’t pick up yours and you really can’t pick up mine, then, and only then, will I admit that you have a point about our ages.”

Jiang Yanli still seemed uncertain, although she also looked somewhat intrigued. “Sect Leader Nie…what’s the point?”

“What’s the point of what? Of cultivating? You’re a cultivator, aren’t you? Isn’t that point enough?”

“I’m not going to ever be an outstanding cultivator,” she pointed out. “I’m going to be someone’s wife, someone’s mother –”

“We’re literally cultivating against the heavens,” Nie Mingjue interrupted her. “Aren’t you Jiang sect people supposed to attempt the impossible? You can be someone else’s and still be yourself.”

He’d never been very good with words, retreating when possible into silence, but something about what he’d said left a mark.

“Very well,” Jiang Yanli said, and raised the practice saber she’d already adorned with a pink bow – a clear sign that her subconscious had committed to it, even if her mind hadn’t yet caught up. “I’ll take you up on that bet, Sect Leader Nie. Saber, and then you can join me in the kitchen to cook.”

Cooking? Cooking was fine, he could do cooking –

“And we’re not making barbeque.”

…maybe he couldn’t do cooking.

Whatever. That was a problem for later. Nie Mingjue lifted his saber and bared his teeth at her in a grin. “This time,” he said. “Make an effort, will you? I’d like to break a sweat sometime today.”

Her eyes flashed, and she attacked.

-

“You two are going to get along and that’s final,” Wei Wuxian announced, hands on his hips. “Now I’m going to get us some snacks and while I’m going you guys are going to get over yourselves, you hear me?”

He made a show of storming out the door, but the second he was outside he waved his hand furiously to send a passing servant to get the snacks and crept back to listen.

Neither Jiang Cheng nor Lan Zhan was his shidi – that was Nie Huaisang – and of course no one could match his da-ge, but he loved them both very much, so they had to get over this inexplicable rivalry they had.

They had to!

“…very special,” Lan Zhan was saying.

“I know,” Jiang Cheng said. He sounded unusually serious – unlike Lan Zhan, who was always serious (except when he was being teased, in which case he was delightfully flustered). “He’s just – I don’t know. It’s hard to share, you know?”

“En.”

“It’s…let me tell you about my sister.”

Wait, why were they talking about Jiang Yanli? She was great, but not relevant to the issues here.

“When she first came to Qinghe, she got into a bet with Sect Leader Nie over…I don’t even know what. She practiced the saber a lot.  And then she took one of the sabers home, and she kept practicing with it – my parents were pretty confused, but they mostly let her do what she likes, and Mother was pleased that she’d at least started cultivating something even if it was the wrong thing – and…she’s happier now. Like a candle lit for the first time.”

“…I understand,” Lan Zhan said, which, good for him because Wei Wuxian was totally confused. “It was the same for me. The first ray of sunlight in the morning.”

“Yes! Exactly like that.”

They were quiet for a few moments.

“I suppose,” Jiang Cheng finally said, sounding rather begrudging about it, “that sunlight is meant to be shared.”

“En,” Lan Zhan said. “We are all equal under the sun.”

“I could manage equal,” Jiang Cheng said. “As long as we’re the same, yeah? Best friends.”

There was a brief pause, and then – “Best friends,” Lan Zhan echoed. “Agreed.”

Wei Wuxian couldn’t help himself: he burst in through the doors at once. “You can’t be each other’s best friends!” he exclaimed. “You’re my best friends!”

They both looked at him, eerily identical long-suffering expressions on their faces, and then they looked at each other, and then for some reason they both nodded to each other like they were sealing some sort of pact.

“Okay, it’s all decided,” Jiang Cheng said. “We’re all best friends from now on.”

“All of us?” Wei Wuxian said hopefully. “Both of you?”

They nodded.

“And Nie Huaisang, of course,” Wei Wuxian said. “We can’t leave him out! He’s my shidi!”

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Lan Zhan assured him.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said. “I guess second place to the Nies isn’t bad, if it’s shared.”

“Xiao Bai,” Lan Zhan said.

“…third?”

“Suibian.”

“Fourth.”

Lan Zhan nodded.

“What are you two even talking about?” Wei Wuxian complained, but not really – he was too happy. He threw himself in between the two of them, wrapping an arm around each one. “I leave you alone for less time than it takes to make a cup of tea and suddenly you’ve got some sort of secret code…”

“Don’t worry, you idiot,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes. “We still like you the best.”

#mdzs #wei wuxian #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jiang fengmian #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #light on the door

[ibijau]

How to Woo a Lan pt 4 / Also on AO3

Jin Ling explains why he fell in love, gets some advice, and tries to give advice of his own in return

Clearly expecting that the conversation would take a while, Nie Huaisang put away his work and called for servants to bring everything needed to serve tea. Once they were alone waiting for that tea to arrive, Jin Ling started explaining how he had fallen in love with the most perfect person in the entire world, how beautiful Lan Sizhui was (this earned him an unimpressed stare from Nie Huaisang), how elegant (more staring), how nice (a roll of the eyes).

“So he is polite, and you find that impressive,” Nie Huaisang noted, hiding a yawn behind his fan. “I suppose someone living in Jinlin Tai and the Lotus Pier wouldn’t be used to it. And of course he’s handsome, he’s a Lan. I think it’s something in the water of the Cloud Recesses.” Jin Ling frowned at the dismissal of Lan Sizhui’s quality, while Nie Huaisang yawned again, this time without bothering to hide it. “Is that why you love him? He’s capable of more basic decency than most people you’ve met in your life -a very low bar, might I add-, he’s somewhat good-looking, and that’s it?”

“Of course that’s not all!” Jin Ling exploded, but he couldn’t explain the rest right away as the servants returned then.

Nie Huaisang, who could act like a good host when he felt like it, prepared tea with slow, measured movements and poured it for both of them when the servants left again. With unexpected elegance, he gave one glass of tea to Jin Ling before making a gesture to order him to resume speaking.

“He really is kind, and I won’t let you treat it like something that doesn’t matter,” Jin Ling said, before taking a sip of tea. 

It was nice, if a little plain. Having accompanied both his uncles to conferences in Qinghe before, he knew this blend was considered the better sort of tea available in the Unclean Realm, which comforted him. He had no doubt Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have hesitated to serve him bad tea if he’d really been annoyed about being half blackmailed into helping.

 “I know people from Gusu Lan are polite, but it’s not the same as kind,” Jin Ling pointed out, and he could have sworn Nie Huaisang’s mouth twitched in an almost-smile. “When we were in Yi City, he really was nice to everyone, checked those that had gotten poisoned, and encouraged them to eat some congee even if it tasted awful. If it had been me, I’d just have scolded them into eating it! And some of the others with us were scolding their poisoned friends, because we were all worried, but he took time to reassure others, even if he had to be worried too. I mean, his dad was out there fighting stuff, of course he was worried!”

Nie Huaisang made a face at the mention of Yi City, and quickly opened his fan to hide behind. Jin Ling only remembered then that if he and his friends had almost died in that place, it might have been because of this man sitting across from him. It was a really odd thing to think, and if Wei Wuxian in person hadn’t made the accusation, if Jiang Cheng hadn’t later told Jin Ling that the whole thing made sense… how could Nie Huaisang have had the guts to do that, when he was too much of a coward to meet Jin Ling’s eyes when he mentioned this?

“I suppose he’s been raised a little better than most boys his age,” Nie Huaisang conceded,fanning himself just a little too quickly. “An effect of growing up around Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen, both excellent role models, except for their taste in friends. So you love a beautiful young man who is kind to everyone, hm?”

“Well…”

It was Jin Ling’s turn to avert his eyes, his cheeks flushing a little in embarrassment.

“Well, it’s also that he’s not always sweet,” he muttered, before quickly emptying his tea to give himself a countenance.

“How so?” Nie Huaisang asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. He even closed his fan, as if to better focus on what Jin Ling had to say.

“Well. Well, you see, after that whole thing in Jinlin Tai, when Wei Wuxian accused my uncle of murder, and my aunt died, and then me and a bunch of juniors were kidnapped, right?” Jin Ling asked. Nie Huaisang grimaced again. Right, this too was kind of his fault, wasn’t it? “And even then Sizhui was so nice when we were held in that cave, and trying to comfort everyone! But also… Well. I have this very annoying cousin, you see? And he was acting awful, and Sizhui had been patient and patient and patient, but in the end… well, in the end he snapped, and I think if he hadn’t been tied up, he would have slapped Jin Chan in the face.”

Even after this long, the memory of Lan Sizhui’s righteous fury still made Jin Ling’s heart beat a little faster. That it had happened because his cousin had been pestering him was just a nice bonus.

“And also, he tries to hide it, but he’s a little proud,” Jin Ling added. “He really, really likes being praised. His face completely lights up when Hanguang-Jun says he’s done good, and he’s almost glowing whenever Wei Wuxian compliments him and says he’s a good boy and all that. And then when someone says something mean to him, his face does that thing…”

Jin Ling tried to scrunch his own face into an approximation of Lan Sizhui’s expression. He didn’t have a great talent for impressions, but it was still good enough for Nie Huaisang to let out a snort. He then tried to cover it by coughing a few times, but Jin Ling knew what he’d heard.

“It’s never for very long,” Jin Ling resumed, “but I noticed it and it’s just. I guess he wouldn’t like me to call it that, but it’s really cute. I just wish I didn’t keep saying the wrong thing to make him make that face, you know? I want to watch it, not cause it.”

“At least you have self awareness,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “That’s more than several members of your family could ever have said. You’ll just have to learn how to turn a weakness into a strength. Now, tell me, what have you tried to make Lan Sizhui aware of your interest in him?”

Jin Ling, suddenly, desperately wished he had some tea left in his glass, just so he could pretend to drink it instead of facing that question. He ended up turning the empty glass between his hands and staring down at the table, feeling Nie Huaisang’s silence get more and more judgemental the longer it took Jin Ling to answer.

“I see,” Nie Huaisang said after a while.

“You don’t see anything! I just want us to be good friends first, and then…”

Jin Ling trailed off, and toyed some more with his empty glass.

“Fine, then what have you done to become his friend then?” Nie Huaisang insisted, amusement piercing through his voice.

“Well, he hasn’t been around much those last few months,” Jin Ling muttered. “But, well, I went with him on Night Hunts twice before someone killed my uncle, so there’s that. And then he came home not too long ago, and we went on another Night Hunt with everyone! And then…” He sighed, deeply. “And then I said something wrong, and I think I accidentally insulted him, and I haven’t seen him since then and I can’t see him until I figure out how to do things right!”

Nie Huaisang hummed, but didn’t say anything right away. When Jin Ling risked a glance, he found the older man looking at him the way one might inspect a horse before buying it. Jin Ling didn’t particularly care for that. It felt so wrong for Nie Huaisang to have such an intense, calculating expression on his face, making him look miles away from the blundering fool who had bothered Jin Ling’s uncle for years and years.

When Nie Huaisang looked like that, it became too easy that he had done all those terrible things Wei Wuxian had accused him of.

“It’s true that you have a certain gift for saying exactly what people don’t want to hear,” Nie Huaisang stated, fanning himself slowly. “You’re impulsive, that’s your problem, and your uncles both failed you in that regard. It’d be hard to go against your own nature in the best of case, but they've done nothing to help you understand your own temper. I suppose we’ll have to work with it. Have you ever considered taking up a correspondence with Lan Sizhui?”

Jin Ling shook his head. “It’s… isn’t it risky? My uncles have always told me if I start liking someone, I shouldn’t leave traces. There’s always a risk of blackmail, if the other person doesn’t feel the same. Not that Sizhui would ever do that! But, well… Letters can fall into the wrong hands, and because of my grandfather I know people watch me more than other boys my age in case... well...”

“I’m not telling you to write him erotic letters,” Nie Huaisang said with a mocking sneer. “Not yet anyway, and I could teach you a trick or two about keeping those secrets. But simple, polite letters... it’s a good way to stay in touch with a friend, and it would let you think more carefully about what you’re saying, and how you’re saying it.”

“Oh.”

That did sound wise. Even Jiang Cheng was a little less abrasive when writing than in person, and Jin Ling was fairly sure he wasn’t as bad as his uncle. That might be worth trying.

“Another piece of advice,” Nie Huaisang continued, fanning himself with slow, nearly hypnotic movements. “Own up to your faults. Admit to your little friend that you’re aware your mouth goes faster than your brain, and that you often realise too late you said something bad. You could even tell him that you’d appreciate his guidance in correcting this. Gusu Lan disciples love that sort of things, they’re all raised to become teachers. Offer yourself as a student and the fight is half won already.”

“You’re sure?”

“How do you think I even got Lan Xichen to notice me? ‘Please Xichen-gege, please tutor me’,” Nie Huaisang whined in a high pitched voice, his bottom lip trembling for a moment, before his pathetic pout turned into a disgusted grimace as he closed his fan with a sharp gesture. “I think the Lan like a desperate case, so you should have your chance.”

That was a very rude thing to say, but Jin Ling could hardly disagree. Nie Huaisang was a complete mess, that much was clear. And as for Wei Wuxian, the less said, the better. Yet those two absolute disasters had, apparently, managed to seduce the two top cultivators of Gusu Lan, nay, of the entire cultivation world, who surely could have had their pick of competent and emotionally capable partners of any gender.

Jin Ling hated that it did make him feel a little more hopeful.

“Well, that’s all my advice for today,” Nie Huaisang announced, before glancing with disgust at the pile of paperwork he’d set aside earlier. “I have to do my own work these days and it takes a while, so I’d appreciate it if you left. I know etiquette dictates I should invite you to spend the night here,” he added, “but I really don’t feel like it, and I don’t suppose you’d enjoy it either. Who could say if I wouldn’t change my mind and murder you in your sleep, right?”

Nie Huaisang laughed at his own joke, earning an unimpressed stare from Jin Ling for his poor taste in humour.

It probably was a joke. 

Right?

Just to be a pest, Jin Ling considered forcing the issue and demanding to be given a room. But Nie Huaisang had guessed right in suspecting that Jin Ling didn’t quite trust him enough to make himself vulnerable in his domain. Not only that, but if he stayed, poor Ouyang Zizhen might start worrying about him, and either try to storm the Unclean Realm on his own, or worse fly toward the Lotus Piers and get Jiang Cheng to storm the Unclean Realm, by far the worst possible option because then Jin Ling would have two other sect leaders furious at him.

“I’ll leave,” he conceded, which made Nie Huaisang smirk. “But can I come back tomorrow, and show you my letter? Just to make sure I’m not writing anything too awful.”

“I would say no,” Nie Huaisang sighed, “but I have a feeling you’ll just do as you please anyway, so I might as well pretend I have any control over this. Yes, come back tomorrow, why not. It’s not like I have anything better to do. Try to be here at the same hour as today, and I should be able to make time for you.”

Jin Ling promised. Nie Huaisang then called for a servant to bring Jin Ling back to the gate so he wouldn’t get lost. The distrust, apparently, was mutual.

Once out of the Unclean Realm, Jin Ling lost no time in returning to Qinghe proper, and there he headed straight for the inn where Ouyang Zizhen awaited his return with much anxiety. The poor boy nearly cried of relief when he saw Jin Ling enter the inn. In fairness though, he was just that sort of a person so Jin Ling told himself he hadn’t caused his friend any actual worry. Still, he made sure to buy the best food the inn had to offer, and some wine as well, just to thank Ouyang Zizhen for having come along.

While they had lunch in the privacy of their room, Jin Ling reported his success, and shared the advice given to him. Jin Ling had told Ouyang Zizhen that he’d gone to Nie Huaisang in particular because he used to be friends with Lan Xichen and thus knew Lan Sizhui, an explanation that seemed to be accepted without further questions. 

Jin Ling couldn’t help thinking that Lan Sizhui would have asked for more details about that. He was curious and observant, surely he might have picked up on something wrong with Jin Ling’s lie. Then again, with gossip forbidden, he might not have said anything.

Someday, Jin Ling wouldn’t have to speculate. Lan Sizhui and him would be married, and happy, and they would share everything, unlike some people, so Lan Sizhui wouldn’t even have to pick up clues to know things.

With this goal in mind, Jin Ling started drafting a letter as soon as he was done eating. His first attempt was predictably awful, but to Jin Ling’s surprise, he actually realised that on his own, even before Ouyang Zizhen could check it. Maybe Nie Huaisang had been on to something about it being easier to deal with his temper and lack of social skills on paper. So Jin Ling drafted a second letter, and then a third, while Ouyang Zizhen sat by, reading over his shoulder and occasionally offering his opinion.

By the fifth draft, Jin Ling felt he was starting to get the hang of this.

“I just can’t believe you got him to agree,” Ouyang Zizhen said while glancing at his letter again. “I mean, Nie zongzhu! You’ve said that Wei Wuxian said that he’s the one who got your uncle killed, right? So… are you really sure it’s not a trap?”

Jin Ling chewed on the end of his brush, trying to remember how to write a certain character, and shrugged.

“I’m not sure it isn’t. A trap, I mean.”

“And you’re still going back tomorrow?” Ouyang Zizhen gasped. “He’s given you advice, and good one at that, isn’t it enough?”

Jin Ling shrugged again, and wrote down another sentence.

His friend wasn’t wrong to find him unwise. Nie Huaisang was dangerous, there was no denying it, and he certainly wasn’t nice, that was certain as well. But if Nie Huaisang had been as awful as he pretended to be, he wouldn’t have listened to Jin Ling at all, wouldn’t have talked so fondly about Jin Zixuan, wouldn’t have gotten so upset at the thought of Lan Xichen’s reputation being ruined any further.

Nie Huaisang wasn’t nice, but he probably wasn’t that bad either. No more than other people in Jin Ling’s life, anyway, and at least he didn't shout as much as Jiang Cheng did.

“If I don’t go back, he’ll think I’m scared,” Jin Ling claimed.

“Well, aren’t you?”

“Even if I were, I wouldn’t want him to know that. Anyway, I think I’m done, can you read it?”

Ouyang Zizhen obeyed, and agreed it was about as good as it could get without getting too awkward. It didn’t need to be perfect, anyway. Jin Ling had a feeling that Nie Huaisang would enjoy having something to criticize. So he put away his letter, and went out to explore Qinghe with Ouyang Zizhen, forgetting his love troubles for a little while. They had great fun, and Jin Ling only wished a few times that he could have been doing this with Lan Sizhui instead.

Soon, he would.

-

Come morning, Jin Ling dutiful returned to the gate of the Unclean Realm. Just like before the disciples guarding the entrance stared him down in disapproval, but this time they let him in almost immediately, and Jin Ling was again led by Qinghe Nie’s first disciple toward Nie Huaisang’s office. This time there was already tea waiting for him when he got there, and the pile of paperwork on Nie Huaisang’s desk looked a good deal smaller and neater. Either he had worked hard to free some time, or he had hidden away anything sensitive to make sure Jin Ling wouldn’t get too curious. Jin Ling figured he would have done the same, and decided to take no offence.

Instead, he put a small pouch of candies on the desk, by the teapot. Nie Huaisang threw him a sharp look for that but pinched his lips so he wouldn't ask any questions. Jin Ling sat down and shrugged.

“You used to bring those to Jinlin Tai when I was little, even if nobody but you would eat them. I figured you had to like them, and since you’re helping me and all…”

“I see good memory runs in the family,” Nie Huaisang noted, glaring at the candies yet making no movement to take one. As if Jin Ling would have poisoned him. It was a coward’s method of murder, Jiang Cheng always said, and Jin Ling was no coward. “Did you write a letter, Jin zongzhu?”

“I did,” Jin Ling confirmed, digging into his sleeve for the latest draft which he handed to Nie Huaisang. “I think it’s pretty good.”

In answer Nie Huaisang just rolled his eyes, and started reading. Jin Ling realised he was getting nervous, as if that odd man’s approval actually mattered in any way. To distract himself he drank some tea, and helped himself to a few candies. They were pretty much nothing but sugar, which made his teeth ache. How could anyone enjoy something like that? Maybe Nie Huaisang had just wanted to be a pest back then, bothering everyone with shitty candies.

“It’s acceptable,” Nie Huaisang said at last, returning the letter to Jin Ling. “Not great, but a clear improvement over the things you tend to say in person.”

“I can rewrite it again,” Jin Ling muttered, disappointed that all his efforts got him so little praise. “If you show me what to change…”

“No, the imperfections are necessary,” Nie Huaisang explained, opening his fan. “If it is too polished, it will be obvious that you’re not writing alone. It really isn’t so bad, anyway. Better than when your father… well, nevermind that. You’re not doing so bad. And inviting him to a Night Hunt is smart, I’m surprised you thought of it.”

“You don’t think it’s too bold?” Jin Ling asked.

“He’s a Lan, they don’t see Night Hunts as a prelude to flirtation,” Nie Huaisang said, before grimacing. “I wish I’d known that when I was young, actually. So don’t hope for anything more than a pleasant moment with a friend. Well, pleasant if you enjoy Night Hunting, which apparently some people do.”

Jin Ling huffed. Of course he liked Night Hunting. Any decent cultivator did. But of course, Nie Huaisang was hardly a decent cultivator, no matter how you looked at it, and his dislike of Night Hunts was no big secret. He only showed up if he had absolutely no choice, Jin Guangyao used to complain, and then he was such a hindrance that everyone would have been better off without him, especially poor Lan Xichen who’d had to rescue him more than once.

But still Nie Huaisang would go and try, Jin Ling remembered. He didn’t enjoy it, but he tried, at least if Lan Xichen was also present. And Lan Xichen did look happy about that, whenever it happened. Really happy, instead of just polite.

It really was too bad that these two had fallen out like that, because they’d seemed to have a good influence on each other, aside from the one murder. Not that any of this was Jin Ling’s business, of course, and he presently held little affection for either man.

And yet...

“Since we’re on the topic of letters. Have you ever thought of writing to Zewu-Jun?” Jin Ling asked, because if it were him having such a huge argument with someone he loved, maybe he would want someone to butt in and help. He wouldn’t like it, but he’d want it. “Because maybe…”

“I have written to Gusu Lan a few times on official business,” Nie Huaisang coldly cut him, closing his fan with a snap. “Aside from this, I have no reason to correspond with anyone there.”

“But maybe you could…”

“I have nothing to say to Lan Xichen,” Nie Huaisang explained, reopening his fan with an impatient flourish. “You see, I am not sorry for what I’ve done,” he said with a cruel smile. “Your uncle deserved to die. He was an awful man, who did awful things, and if I’d truly had my way, he would have died an awful death.”

Jin Ling, who’d thought that losing an arm, being stabbed by his closest friend, and then having his neck snapped by the enraged fierce corpse of one of his victims only to be trapped with said fierce corpse for a century to suffer untold torment had been a pretty awful way to die already, couldn’t help a frown.

He made a decision to never ask Nie Huaisang what he would have preferred to see happen to Jin Guangyao.

“I know what Lan Xichen wants to hear from me,” Nie Huaisang continued, fanning himself. “He most likely wants me to say that I’m sorry. And I could say it. I’m a very good liar, if I do say so myself. So I could lie to him, say exactly what he wants to hear, be exactly the man he wants me to be…” He paused and grimaced in disgust. “But in that case, I would just have turned into another Jin Guangyao.”

“And you don’t want to become like him.”

“I am like him,” Nie Huaisang snapped with such rage that Jin Ling jumped on his seat. “I can’t change that now. I am a good liar, but I’ve decided long ago I wouldn’t lie to myself, and I know what I am. As for Lan Xichen, in spite of his blindness, in spite of his errors, he deserves better than to fall prey to another liar. And that’s why I cannot…”

“You really should write to him,” Jin Ling insisted. “And tell him all that stuff. I mean, since you don’t have regrets and you know you're an asshole, then it’s no big deal telling him things as they are, right? And then at least he gets to know the full truth. You old people really should be more honest instead of making everything complicated all the time.”

Nie Huaisang glared at him, as cold and angry as he’d been the day before, but Jin Ling realised it was already starting to lose its effect on him. It wasn’t so different from when Jiang Cheng threatened to break his legs over every single little annoyance.

Well, it was a little different in that Jin Ling still wasn’t sure Nie Huaisang wouldn’t murder him if he was certain to get away with it, but it was still the same general sentiment.

Jin Ling didn’t even mind that Nie Huaisang impatiently ordered him to leave, grumbling about disrespectful children, time wasted on educating idiotic youths, and how he refused to be involved in this any further. This, too, Jin Ling had heard before from his uncle, and he’d learned to ignore it all.

If the letter and the Night Hunt didn’t work, Jin Ling knew for sure he could come and ask for Nie Huaisang’s help again.

#xisang #zhuiling #lingzhui #jin ling #nie huaisang #mdzs #operation woo a lan #jau writes

[chalkrevelations]

SO, Episode 28 of Word of Honor was a roller-coaster ride.

(Spoilers, as ever, so scroll away and come back later if you want to see it unspoiled.)

They managed two entirely separate scenes in this one that had me going “Did … did that just happen? Is this really happening?” Let’s get this one out of the way first: The scene of Zhao Jing in his serial killer lair with the altar and memorial tablets and his serial killer trophies. Y’all. I swear, scene opens with a shot from behind of drunk Awful Yifu in his Fantasy Ancient China underwear staggering through a set of doors into a room with candles and draperies, and before I was able to register the rest of the set design, my brain gave a terrified squeak and started rabbiting around like, “Oh my god, please do not let this be Xie’er’s bedroom. Oh my god, they wouldn’t actually go there, not even hinted, surely that would be too far!” Then my eyeballs caught up and registered the set, so I thought I was safe, but that didn’t even turn out to be the moment in the scene that had me going “Is this really happening?” (Although I do think the fact my brain immediately jumped to that scenario speaks to the creepy vibe the show has managed to build between Awful Yifu and Xie Wang). So, Zhao Jing is a sloppy drunk and absolutely shitfaced, stumbling around and yelling at his dead brothers, and I’m sitting here watching him, feeling like I need a shower, with my skin a little bit trying to crawl off my body, and then he picks up Rong Xuan’s memorial tablet and pours an entire stream of alcohol out of the pitcher all over it, and I say, out loud, to the screen, “Oh my god, they just had him figuratively piss on that tablet.” Only, no, they didn’t, because there was no need to have him do it figuratively because then, he literally whips it out of his pants and takes a piss on the tablet, complete with sound effects, and I’m open-mouthed, thinking “Is this really happening?” As some background, I grew up in mainstream U.S. culture where ancestor veneration isn’t formally practiced - although it isn’t an entirely absent part of our cultural mythos, it’s just that now when I when I offer cultus to the Patres Patriae, it’s deliberate and intentional – but I’ve been doing ancestor work in my particular flavor of polytheism for long enough, and intensely enough, that I had a visceral reaction of disgust and horror to this. Hand literally clapped over my mouth in shock, even after watching all of his ranting at his dead brothers and spitting at his dead shifu and just generally being a disrespectful asshole with delusions of grandeur building up to it. So, yes, show, you have indeed convinced me that Awful Yifu is the worst, even in an episode that also devoted that much screentime to Prince Jin.

Fortunately, the other “Is this really happening?” moment was at the other end of the spectrum, somewhere in the face of how married Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing are, which I cannot believe passed censorship. I know I keep saying that, but every time I think I’ve adjusted to how far they’re going to go, the show laughs gay-ly as it pushes the envelope another mile down the road. Truly, this show is the gift that keeps on giving where these two are concerned, and not just because of Zhang Zhehan’s face. I realize I had to spend 50 episodes deciphering Lan Wangji’s smallest microexpression (not that I’m complaining), but I can’t believe how expressive both Zhang Zhehan and Gong Jun are in these roles, with Gong Jun’s little sadness eyebrows when WKX wants ZZS to humor him, and how soft Zhang Zhehan’s face gets when ZZS looks at WKX, and how great they both are at making all this look like a pair of adults who are in an established relationship and confident of each other. I’d be as weak as Wen Kexing if Zhou Zishu pouted at me the way he does when he tells Chengling that he can’t do anything to help decorate the Manor except observe and direct because he’s oh, so injured and frail, poor him. Wen Kexing can laugh at Zhou Zishu when ZZS pokes at him by saying the papercrafter was such a beauty! (Compare this to his reaction back in the day, when ZZS deftly manipulated him out of bringing A-Xiang along on their honeymoon adventures by calling her a beauty and implying she might draw attention away from WKX!) Wen Kexing waves kitchen knives at Zhou Zishu in (somewhat fond) exasperation! Zhou Zishu now accepts Wen Kexing piling his plate with food at the table as perfectly normal! There’s no crying in Spring Festival! They send their kid outside to watch the fireworks so they can have sex some alone time! (Merciless killers. How the fuck so adorable?) Someone must have backed up an entire truckful of money to the house of someone very important to get this aired, because what is the heterosexual explanation for … any of this?

Other thoughts:

We continue to get small things that maintain the parallels between Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishou and Gu Xiang/Cao Weining, including the mirrored theme of finding a home with a welcoming family, shown through family dinner, and expressed through WKX’s description of his former self as a “lonely ghost,” echoing A-Xiang’s self-description (to Shen Shen in an earlier ep) the same way.

HAN YING! Listen, I am stupidly attached to this bit player, and not just because he’s a familiar face (because half of Wen Xu’s screentime in The Untamed was just a disembodied head hanging at the entrance to the Unclean Realm, so it’s not like there was time to get … attached). And I say stupidly attached because ever since we first saw the way he looked at ZZS with big puppy heart-eyes, I knew he was going to be a goner. I just know they’re gonna fridge him for the next step in ZZS’s journey, because something has to pry ZZS out of Four Seasons Manor, as much as I, personally, would like nothing better than to see 8 more episodes of wedded bliss for two gay dads and their son. (OK, one thing I would like better would be if their daughter and son-in-law came to live with them, too.) At least it looks like Han Ying will get to die taking a figurative bullet for ZZS, which will make him happy and might prevent him from finding out the Glazed Armor he’s so proud of bringing is actually pointless, because don’t think that didn’t hurt to know while I watched him being so proud of managing to get his hands on it. But I’d prefer he didn’t die at all, show. Also, why on earth are there only two (completed) stories under the ZZS/Han Ying label on AO3? Because yes, I have looked. I have the search open in another tab right now. Why haven’t more people taken advantage of this guy’s utter devotion for ZZS? How are people looking at the way Han Ying reverently brushes his fingers over the single white blossom on the wall mural in ZZS’s rooms back in Prince Jin’s palace and not falling all over that?

Xie’er, oh, Xie’er. You’re killing me, here. I need someone to rescue you, you desperate affection-starved little sociopath. So, to recap, last time we met, your Awful Yifu finally let it slip that he was never ever going to acknowledge your existence in public. So now, you’re being a very clever boy, setting up a scheme to manipulate him into having to publicly acknowledge you if he’s going to claim credit for your successes (because I’m sure you can’t even contemplate failure) in service to Prince Jin. So clever, but I hate to tell you, you’re clever at everything except learning from your mistakes when it comes to your Awful Yifu. You really learned nothing from Beauty Ghost, did you? Ugh, your sad little face as you watch your hot mess of an Awful Yifu while you wait for the maids to make tea – it hurts me. Please tell me you’re playing some kind of long game, and you’re just a really great actor. Because he’s sloppy drunk, and right now, watching your face journey, I think maybe you think that makes what he’s saying true – that he’s not guarding his words, and he means it when he tells you that of course he loves you and would never leave you. “Are you still angry with me?” Awful Yifu literally asks. “Alright, I’ll apologize. I was just mad. It didn’t mean anything. We’re together in this. I’ll always stand by you.” Xie’er, you have got to stop believing gaslighting abusive men who shovel that BS. This is what they call the honeymoon period in the cycle of abuse. Seriously. This is textbook. Please stop making the same mistakes over and over again. Maybe think about the fact that your Awful Yifu is, single-handedly, the reason the Department of the Unfaithful actually exists in the first place. He is THAT AWFUL. I would like to think actually seeing his serial killer trophy room will make a difference, now that you have some confirmation of what Tragicomic Ghost told you and not the ability to wave it off as part of some he-said, she-said situation where how could we ever possibly know the truth, despite the fact that Zhao Jing has shown he’ll stab anyone in the back in his quest for power? But, then, I also thought maybe learning last ep that he never planned to publicly acknowledge you would make some kind of difference. Are you going to roll the dice again, gambler? Because I’ll tell you right now, the house always wins. (Not that you’d listen to me anymore than you listened to Beauty Ghost.)

(Also, wait wait waitwaitwait. Waitaminit. This is pure speculation and probably way too out there to be true (oh, but, someone’s going to write this AU for me, right?) Hot-mess drunk yifu tells Xie’er that they’ve been depending on each other “ever since I picked you up and brought you back home.” I can’t remember if we know anything about Xie Wang’s background at this point, but it does sound like Zhao Jing might have literally yoinked him off the street to raise him. He … he doesn’t think Xie’er is actually Yan’er, does he? Only he kidnapped the wrong orphaned urchin by mistake? I’m just sayin’, thinking back to Shen Shen’s reaction to finding out Zhen Yan was still alive, it would be exactly the kind of thing Zhao Jing would do, to keep this kid that his brother(s) wanted to find hidden right under their noses.)

Chengling and the chicken. I can’t, y’all. And Zhou Zishu’s face as soon as he realizes what Wen Kexing is telling Chengling to do – he knows this is going to be a show.

Prince Jin, you are almost as bad as Xie’r and his awful Yifu combined:

Prince Jin: Zhou Zishu, you mastermind, your super-secret spy network continues to spread everywhere, including into my very own palace. Oh, the things you must be plotting against me!

Zhou Zishu, chillin’ at Plum Blossom Manor, day-drinking, dressing up in pretty festive robes, taking advantage of his disciple’s unpaid labor so he doesn’t have to raise a finger for himself, and providing his husband with sex so incredible he is never required to actually cook: “OK, my gay husband and our son-with-two-dads, how about we just stay here together forever and be happy?”

Also Prince Jin: *Creeps on Zhou Zishu like a gaslighting m’fker*

Anyway, if Prince Jin always knew what Han Ying was up to all along, is the letter about ZZS’s father a plant, with false info? It was just kind of suspiciously hanging out in the open on Prince Jin’s desk.

#zhao jing #xie wang #zhou zishu #wen kexing #gu xiang #cao weining #zhang chengling #han ying #prince jin #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

[ecopoeticsuchicago]

Sam Audette Week 8 Assignment

Poema:          

 Digestion.

(Wrung hands, towel drying)

    Carne.

  Cerdo.

  digestion.

processed ham steak,

I cut into pieces, but

digestion still seems like a joke,

for these tight little squares

 sizzling strips of bacon

grease fat pop

the oven alight in a morning light

in a warm winter

kssssss, the sound

broken down,

burnt,

ready

to compliment.

 I release the bacon vents in my head pores,

I steam like a rice cooker, toxins out

protein stays

I am highly evolved.

 The pig winks and looks at me

he comes back to the scene of the crime,

he is in a realm of etherdivino-morality now

he oinks

he talks to his friend.

they are separated by miles

they still pound the dirt the grass the pens.

treated relatively

WELL.

Falling down the well

I now call out to them

they oink I can hear it

I understand for a brief moment, this darkness

stretches out before me.

I must be going to the other side of the world.

darkness.

 I remember them being chopped up. piece by piece,

the skin in protest,

visions of wholeness stripped down

before ever starting

the psychology of my packer

geography

direct facing

direct facing

coming to peace,

boiling inside to out,

befalling a cynicalation

of an entire nation.

swept up in the heat,

the flame

wrapped in plastic

we wait under the stars

expecting the best

hoping the worst.

 She oinks, he oinks,

in the darkness.

Contact with Ham 7th week winter quarter

Notes: Friday. Omellette spliced with ham, using half of my last slice of ham steaks that has taken me a month in this life to go through. I don’t plan on buying hamsteaks again. I need respite from the small guilt and unhealthy I have come to associate with ham

the ham came to the omellete naturally, I did not seek out ham with my breakfast rather I needed to fill an omellete, and why settle for just veggies.

Saturday. Another omellette, now I am trying to finish the last half of the ham steak slice that is now all alone in my fridge. Wait a second, “Yining do you want an omellete? I’m making enough for two people.” “Sure!” My lovely roommate replies, “Hey want some bacon? I’ve got bacon.” “Oooh OK!” I reply. “Alright I’ll throw a few slices on. Hehe.” We eat in the sun on our front porch.

That afternoon I go for a run and I can FEEL the two pigs, the bacon based boar and the hamsteak boar, meeting and perhaps fighting in my stomach. This passes. Like all things.

Sunday. At the dining hall. I am loading up from different stations, while trying hopelessly to avoid, wheat, dairy and soy, because of my current diet. I see some bacon just SITTING there already crispy and made. I add a slice to my shmorgus board. I don’t even enjoy eating it. :(

 REFLECTION (process) NOTES PIG MEAT. HAM. PORK. BOAR.

These are some major things on my mind that prompted me choosing pork. This summer I remember thinking for the first time seriously about giving up meat, going at least vegetarian. It was some ham deli sliced that prompted this thought, as it coursed through me. I don’t know why but it felt unclean.

 In Spain this fall, going with the flow, pork was a part of my diet. Perhaps a staple. The ham of Spain comes with Christian, national and local pride. It is an experience. It comes in different forms, but the prosciutto like thin ham es lo más famoso. With some bread and cheese. In class we learned about Jewish and Muslim and Christian culture. Ham was certainly a divider in practices among many. Christian having accepted a doing away with dietary restriction laws 2,000 years ago ate ham like their faith depended on it. Muslims and Jews often did not. In my Syrian Muslim friend’s restaurant, he did not serve pork. His restaurant was a haven away from ham. Ham consumption was so high in a certain southern region of Spain that, a specific cancer rate associated with pork was majorly elevated there. The burden of ham.

It was a relief coming back to the states and easing off meat, and ham a little.

 I have been on a tough diet the past few months, and my meat consumption has increased as compensation. I have been diagnosed this year with an allergy eosinophilic esophagitis, that is latent and hard to pin down the source. To start I eliminated wheat and dairy, and now I am also eliminating soy. If I become a vegetarian, it will be after this is straightened out. If it is hard to imagine life without meat, it is easy to imagine stopping contributing to massive American meat industry. It was hard to imagine life without bread and now I almost can.

#audette #meateating

[ibijau]

Teen Romance Xisang? Teen Romance Xisang! Because y’all can’t stop me and I’m going crazy from confinement so I need something stupid and fluffy to work on

“You know, I'm starting to think you don't actually have a brother,” Lan Xichen teased. “Did you say that just so we'd have something to talk about?”

Nie Mingjue grunted and rolled his eyes.

“I swear I'm going to introduce you to him, I just need to find him first. That little weasely... he never does that!”

Lan Xichen chuckled, and followed his friend through the corridors of the Unclean Realm as they looked for the elusive and mysterious Nie Huaisang. Who did exist, as Lan Xichen knew well, although he had never met him even once. Considering this was his fourth visit there since first meeting Nie Mingjue during a Night Hunt, he found it rather funny. From the way Nie Mingjue had described his brother, the boy was not particularly shy (if anything, he was occasionally insolent, or so Nie Mingjue complained frequently) so it was odd that he always found ways to disappear when Lan Xichen came visiting.

When they arrived at the little garden in which Nie Huaisang kept his birds and grew flowers, only to find it empty, Lan Xichen couldn't help laughing.

“Mingjue, now I wonder what sort of things you've told your brother about me!”

“I don't get it either!” Nie Mingjue muttered, sounding genuinely baffled. “He was happy that I finally got along with someone when I told him about you, and he seemed excited to meet you! That little... he's so weird sometimes.”

“Children can be like that,” Lan Xichen noted, with all the wisdom of his fifteen years of existence.

“I don't know if thirteen counts as a child anymore? Your brother is younger and he isn't half as weird.”

That was a very kind statement to make, and one Lan Xichen did not feel like correcting. Most people found Lan Wangji extremely weird for how little emotions he showed, and the fact that he barely spoke at all if he could help it. Nie Mingjue, upon meeting him, had decided that Lan Wangji was stoic and of good character, two qualities he approved of.

“Let's wait here a bit,” Nie Mingjue decided. “Either he shows up here, or he goes to his room and I've asked someone to wait for him there. You're meeting him this time.”

To make it clear that he would not move until his brother appeared, Nie Mingjue sat on a small stone bench surrounded by colourful flowers. It made for a rather incongruous image. Lan Xichen had to turn around just so he could smile without his friend thinking he was mocking him. That was when he saw him.

Hiding in the doorframe that led to this little garden was a boy younger than Lan Xichen by at least a few years, dressed in the same style as most Nie disciples but in richer fabrics. The boy was staring at them like an hawk watching its prey, but let out a surprised squeak when he realised he had been noticed.

“Huaisang!” Nie Mingjue roared, jumping to his feet and running toward the boy. “Come here right now!”

With such a tone employed against him, Lan Xichen could not blame the younger boy for running away. Nie Mingjue dashed after his brother and they both disappeared from view for a moment. Before long they returned, Nie Mingjue holding his brother by the collar and grumbling against unruly children.

“There, that's Huaisang,” he announced, pushing said boy toward Lan Xichen. “As you can see, my brother is not, in fact, a figment of my imagination.”

“I suppose I stand corrected,” Lan Xichen conceded, before politely bowing to the younger boy. “Nie Huaisang, it is an honour and a pleasure to meet you at last. I have heard much about you.”

Maybe Nie Huaisang was a little more shy than what Nie Mingjue had described, because his entire face turned red at being addressed. For a moment he stood stunned and silent, until his brother slapped the back of his head, muttering something about manners.

“Young Master Lan,” he squeaked, taking a deep boy. “The honour is all mine. I... I have also heard a lot about you! Thank you for taking care of my brother! It can't be easy to be his friend, so I'm very grateful!”

“You little...! How is it hard to be my friend?” Nie Mingjue exploded.

Nie Huaisang shrugged. “It's hard being your brother, so it has to be worse being your friend. Young Master Lan had a choice in this, unlike me. How brave of him!”

He narrowly escaped another slap, partly because Nie Mingjue had not really tried to hit him anyway. Lan Xichen still felt a little dumbstruck by the way these two were talking, miles away from the way he spoke with his own brother.

“Like you're easy to have around!” Nie Mingjue grumbled. “Why on earth were you hiding and running like that?”

Nie Huaisang pouted, his eyes darting toward Lan Xichen for the briefest of moments before he turned to look at his birds instead.

“I just thought it'd be fun,” he claimed. “I've been following you since almost the second he arrived here, and you two didn't notice. If I had been a ghost, you'd be dead!”

“You're ghastly for sure,” Nie Mingjue retorted, half smiling. “Whatever, I give up. You're just too weird. Will you join us for some tea, or do you prefer to continue hiding in shadows?”

Nie Huaisang quickly turned toward his brother, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“Will there be cakes?” he asked. “The good king, I mean? We have an esteemed guest, we need good cakes! Young Master Lan, don't you want cakes with your tea?”

“Xichen you don't have to answer that.”

“Actually, I would be delighted to have some cakes,” Lan Xichen announced.

He couldn't decide what was more amusing: the victorious smile of Nie Huaisang, or the look of utter betrayal on Nie Mingjue's face.

“I can't believe you're siding with him!” Nie Mingjue complained. “You're my friend, how could you?”

“And a great friend for you to have!” Nie Huaisang explained with a wide grin, all of his earlier shyness gone. “Finally, finally someone might teach you some manners! Young Master Lan, I beg you, please take good care of my brother and teach him to be more like you.”

Lan Xichen couldn't help but laugh at the boy's boldness, which seemed to please Nie Huaisang very much, and Nie Mingjue a little less.

“Fine, you two are getting your cakes,” he sighed. “Huaisang, run to the kitchen and tell them to serve tea in my room.”

The boy didn't need to be told twice. He dashed away even faster than when he had tried to run away from his brother. Nie Mingjue watched him go, and sighed again.

“And that was Huaisang. Now you're going to wish I lied about having a brother.”

“Don't say that. He seems sweet enough.”

“Only because he's getting sweets thanks to you. He's an absolute horror most of the time. Just you wait until he gets started about painting and doesn't shut up. And he will do that. You got him cakes after all. You're never getting rid of him now.”

Lan Xichen could only laugh at the dramatic threat, and was soon joined by Nie Mingjue once he realised how ridiculous he sounded.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #nie mingjue #huaichen #mdzs #I'll need a title for ao3 at some point but for now this is just #teen romance xisang #jau writes #jau draws