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minghaoyoudoin · 11 months

Text

to love easily

pairing: non-idol!minghao x fem!reader

genre: fake dating / angst / smut / non-idol au

words: 13.5k

rating: strictly 18+, stay safe out there 🫶

warnings: heavy mention of cheating and resulting trauma, fem reader, food consumption, kissing, dirty talk, pet name (darling), very explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), penetration (vaginal), some angst but more fluff, some marking, I'm sure there's more but you'll have to read to find out hehe

a/n: drum roll please.......... ta da! at long last, I've written for the namesake of this blog, the actual love of my life xu minghao! I hope y'all enjoy reading this one, it was such a joy to write and I'm excited to be able to share it with you! please like or reblog if you like it and thank you for reading!

synopsis: fake dating the beautiful stranger you met in the men’s room: what could go wrong?

~ DAY ONE ~

When you burst through the men’s bathroom door like a bat out of hell, you weren’t quite sure why you were surprised to find a boy on the other side.

Luckily, he wasn’t doing anything worthy of sprinting back out for. The boy stood at the row of old, slightly rusted sinks, the water running but not actually washing his hands. He had frozen the second the door opened, actually, which you figured was a pretty appropriate reaction.

And he was staring at you. Black hair hung into wide eyes, glasses you suspected he didn’t really need perched on the bridge of his nose.

Your chest heaved as you tried and failed to catch your breath. For all your many talents, running was not one of them. You offered a tired wave. “Sorry,” you panted, “I’ll just be a moment, promise.”

“What… are you doing.”

Phrased like a question, but not quite. You squinted at the boy as the automatic sink finally shut off, plunging the bathroom into silence. He straightened to his full height and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, appraising you warily. The boy knew how to dress, you’d give him that.

“Is there anyone else in here?” You demanded.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

The boy made a show of looking around, allowing his eyes to slide back to you after concluding the two of you were obviously alone. He shrugged. Not much for words, this one.

You finally managed to catch your breath enough to speak in coherent sentences. “Look, my ex-boyfriend is out there, okay?”

“Is that really a dire enough situation to warrant hiding in the men’s room?”

You scoffed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but his new girlfriend is with him. Who also happens to be my used-to-be-best-friend, okay? I’m not hiding, I’m saving everyone a headache.”

The boy grimaced. “Sounds messy. Well, good luck with that—”

“Do you have a name?” You interrupted. The boy levelled an impatient look at you over his fake glasses. When he said nothing you blurted your own name, at which his lips pressed into a hard line.

After what could have been hours of tense silence, the boy sighed. “Minghao. My friends call me Hao.”

“Nice to meet you, Hao.”

“You can call me Minghao.”

Despite his severe tone and the fact he definitely wasn’t joking, you laughed. You stuck out a hand for him to shake, more than pleased when he raised his own to meet yours halfway. He wore several delicate silver rings on his fingers, his skin slightly damp against yours from the sink. You took some solace in the knowledge he’d been able to finish washing his hands before you barged into the bathroom.

You froze, your hand still clasped in Minghao’s, at the sound of two horribly familiar voices on the other side of the door. The deeper of which was getting suspiciously close.

“Shit.” You moved before you could think better of it. You inadvertently dragged Minghao with you into the closest stall, managing to slam it shut and lock it mere seconds before the bathroom door opened.

“I’ll wait out here, okay?” Chaeyoung’s voice floated in from the hallway, as high and pretty-sounding as ever. Footsteps echoed as your ex-boyfriend crossed the tile floor to the urinals on the opposite wall.

You gritted your teeth, trying with everything in you not to listen to the sound of your ex-boyfriend’s piss. Minghao, looking hopelessly confused, opened his mouth to say something and glared down at you when you immediately covered his lips with your hand.

Don’t even think about it, you shouted with your eyes.

Minghao cocked an eyebrow, something akin to mischief shining in his eyes. Oh, I’m definitely thinking about it now.

To your despair, Minghao cleared his throat. Even through the barrier of your hand the sound echoed, and you scowled at the floor as your ex finished his business and washed his hands. It was good that he did, you thought. You hadn’t been convinced he was a dedicated hand-washer before.

You didn’t release the painful breath in your lungs until the bathroom door clicked shut behind him. Minghao immediately shook off your hand over his mouth and massaged his jaw, gazing down at you with mild dislike.

“I implied you were dramatic before, but I was wrong. That was dramatic.”

You rolled your eyes and unlocked the stall, marching out into open floorspace. Minghao followed, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

You ran your hands over your face, now attempting to catch your breath for an entirely different reason than before. That was a close call, too close, and you were certain you’d never be able to live it down if you were caught in the boy’s bathroom with a total stranger.

“I’m sorry, that was out of line.” You glanced up at Minghao for all of one second before your embarrassment got the better of you and you looked down again. “I don’t even know why I dragged you in there with me, you would’ve been fine out here.”

He looked you up and down, allowing the silence to drag on for long enough that your skin prickled with unease. You took the opportunity to appraise him, as well. You’d be damned if you let some random college guy in a bathroom make you feel small.

Minghao’s hair, you realized now, was cut into a tasteful mullet. He wore some variation of streetwear, though you recognized the logos of a luxury brand or two as you examined him. Was he rich or just really into fashion? Maybe both, though you suspected it was more of the latter.

“Your boyfriend is Joshua Hong?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected sourly. “But yeah. We dated for two years before I caught those two in bed together.”

Minghao didn’t react, which you weren’t sure how to feel about. He didn’t seem to pity you, at least. You were so sick of people pitying you. “I have a proposition for you,” he said neutrally.

“No, I won’t have sex with you.” You answered immediately.

Minghao smiled humorlessly. “If we have sex, darling, I won’t be the one asking for it.” He ignored your scowl and continued calmly, “I think I have an idea that can fix your problem.”

You tried to let it go, you really did, but curiosity swiftly got the better of you. With an aggrieved sigh, you motioned impatiently for him to go on.

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“You heard me just fine. I don’t mean actually, of course, but no one else needs to know that. There’s nothing to make the ex jealous like dating someone new.” He spoke like it was the most normal thing in the word. Like the prospect of fake-dating someone was completely logical.

Your mouth opened and closed several times, completely unable to form words. “We go to a big university but it’s not that big,” you choked out. “Some people are bound to remember you and I have never spoken before today.”

“So? People form new, spontaneous relationships every day.”

That was true enough. You eyed him warily, trying to find any hints of ulterior motives in his cool exterior. Unfortunately, Minghao didn’t waver an inch. He stared back at you with an expectant smile, obviously anticipating you to agree, and it was around this time that you realized he was intimidatingly handsome.

“Why? What’s in this for you?” You asked.

He waved a dismissive hand between you. “It doesn’t matter. Just know this is a mutually-beneficial agreement. Think about it, you know I’m right.”

You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to kiss him for his great idea or punch him because he’d thought of it before you.

“For how long?” You asked. With every passing second you came closer to folding.

Minghao considered for a moment, staring at a point somewhere over your head. “Six weeks. That’s a month-and-a-half—if Joshua isn’t begging to have you back by then it means he probably won’t.”

Ouch. He was right, you figured. You did want Joshua to beg for you back, but you had absolutely zero intention of actually saying yes to him if he did. His and Chaeyoung’s actions had cut far too deep to heal back to the way it was before. There was a jagged, metaphorical scar that would probably give you grief until the day you died.

Without another word or attempt to convince yourself otherwise, you stuck your hand out in front of you again. Minghao’s eyes fell to it. They widened slightly, your only indication that at least some part of him had doubted that you would say yes.

“You’ve got a deal, Minghao. The arrangement will last six weeks—no more, no less.”

Minghao smiled down at you, the sight only confirming your suspicion that he was very handsome. His long, delicate fingers grasped yours, gentler this time than when you’d shook his hand to introduce yourself.

“Six weeks,” he agreed. “No less.”

You took a deep, steadying breath. What the hell had you just gotten yourself into?

~ DAY EIGHT ~

“Why are you making me go to a football game, again?”

“Because I’m president of the photography club and I have to be there. If we’re dating that means you do, too.”

“But Joshua’s on the football team,” you lamented.

“Even better. Who knows, maybe I’ll get a candid shot of him eating his heart out.”

Despite yourself, you grinned. You figured out more every day that Minghao was genuinely funny when he wanted to be.

It had been a little over a week since the incident in the bathroom. As you’d mentioned in passing, the university you went to was big, but Minghao somehow managed to find you wherever you were.

The day after the restroom debacle, you’d been eating lunch by yourself in a dining hall close to your apartment. It was a struggle not to mope, most days, especially when this dining hall was one you used to frequent with Joshua. Your ex-boyfriend himself had strode into the building right as you took a massive bite of your soggy sandwich, Chaeyoung perched on his arm. It was moments like those that really made you consider arson, but your urge to light things on fire dissipated the moment Minghao plopped into the booth at your side.

He'd offered you a lazy grin and slung his arm over your shoulders before you could protest. Don’t freak out, his eyes told you. The arrangement, remember?

It had taken every ounce of strength in your body to heed his silent warning. Rather than let your surprise show, you’d offered him a wide smile and leaned further into his side. Foolishly you’d planted a sloppy kiss on the edge of his jaw—that was something couples did in public, right?—and immediately flushed with embarrassment.

It worked, though. The one time you dared to look, Joshua kept glancing over at you, mingled confusion and worry lighting his face.

It continued like that for the next week. Minghao made you give him your phone number and text him your class schedule, which he exchanged for his. He showed up to your classes anytime he could, waiting outside in the hall so he could walk you to your next one. He began eating lunch with you in the same dining hall as the first time and put extra effort into his boyfriend façade when Joshua was around.

Outside of that, though, you tended not to speak to one another. He didn’t text, so you didn’t bother to either. He hadn’t yet asked you on a date off-campus, something which simultaneously relieved and disappointed you. You knew you’d have to, eventually, and going to the football game with him seemed like a good way to dip your toe in the water.

Minghao waved his hand in front of your face, forcing you back to the present. “Well? Are you coming with me or not? You can’t deny this is a perfect opportunity for operation jealousy.”

You sighed, but it was mainly for dramatic effect. You both knew you would say yes, especially when things like this were the whole point of your fake relationship, anyway. “Yeah, I’ll come with. Don’t expect me to start making out with you every time they score a touchdown, though.”

The smile Minghao gave you was downright diabolical. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

-----

For all your protesting, the football game was actually kind of fun. Really fun. On a good day you didn’t know the first thing about football, so you tended to watch games based on vibes alone. Today, your university was leading 4-0 and Joshua was playing poorly, hopelessly distracted by the way you hung off Minghao’s arm on the edge of the field. The vibes were immaculate.

Minghao shifted so he stood behind you, looping his camera strap over your head so you could hold the camera while keeping your back pressed to his front. Your mind hyper-focused on the way his chest brushed your shoulders on every inhale. He was blissfully warm, especially when contrasted with the brisk November air around you.

“I already adjusted the settings for you. All you have to do is point and shoot.”

You lifted the camera so you could squint through the viewfinder. “Point and shoot. Got it.”

Minghao made it look way easier than it really was. He’d taken you to the photo lab a few days ago so you could talk through the details of your arrangement, speaking lowly under red light while his pictures developed. Every photo you took turned out just blurry enough that it was unusable, save for one or two shots of the crowd.

He didn’t seem to mind. At some points he rested his chin on top of your head while the two of you flipped through pictures you’d taken. At others his hands drifted up your forearms to your wrists, his fingertips raising goosebumps across your skin. He was good, you had to give him that. If you weren’t careful, you would start to believe his act.

The crowd went wild at something you didn’t see. You raised the camera like it was a gun, searching wildly for what had caused the ruckus. “What happened? What did I miss?”

Minghao chuckled in your ear. “Joshua just got the ball thirty yards closer to the endzone in one play. It’s impressive.”

You scowled, unconvinced. “Yeah, well I’d like to see him not cheat on one of his girlfriends. That I’d be impressed with.”

Minghao laughed again. You pointedly ignored the swell of warmth in your chest at the sound. He raised the camera until the strap lifted over your head, freeing you once again. You stepped away from him, more for your sanity than anything else, and rolled your tense shoulders.

“How many innings are left?” You asked. He just stared at you, his eyebrows raised so high they disappeared behind his hair. “Close your mouth, you’re going to catch flies.”

Without a word, Minghao raised the camera and snapped a picture of you. You narrowed your eyes, confused. He tugged on the end of one of your braids. “There aren’t innings in football, darling. You’re thinking of baseball.”

Embarrassment flooded your cheeks. “Damn. I promise I’m not stupid, I’m just not much of a sports girl. Not these types of sports, anyway.”

Minghao nodded knowingly. “At least you’re pretty.” Did he really mean it or was he just teasing you? Usually that phrase was meant to be mean-spirited, but you could never really tell with him. “What sports are you referring to?”

“Hockey, mainly. But competitive swimming was always my favorite sport in the summer Olympics, so.”

He gave you a strange look like he was trying to hold in a laugh. “Weirdly enough, that makes sense for you.”

“Yeah, well.” You gestured to the field in front of you, scanning the players for the dreaded #05. You found Joshua just in time to watch him blow a kiss to Chaeyoung on the other side of the field, her cheerleading outfit glittering under the stadium lights. You exhaled heavily through your nose. They were perfect together. Straight out of some college romcom—you never stood a chance.

Minghao noticed what had drawn your attention. He took another photo of you staring across the field and approached to stand at your side again. “Her hair looks hideous.”

“No it doesn’t.”

He tugged on one of your braids again. “No. It doesn’t,” he conceded. “I’m trying to help you feel better.”

You appreciated it, you really did. Appreciated him. This past week had been the best you’d had since Joshua cheated on you, something you didn’t realize until this moment. For several seconds, you just stared at him. Minghao stared back, his expression unreadable. He’d lost the fake glasses—blue light glasses, he’d corrected—for the game tonight, his eyes a warm brown without them.

Before you could respond, the crowd erupted into screams. You whipped around to face the field, your eyes straining to find what was happening in the cacophony of male bodies.

There. Joshua had the ball. And he was running—sprinting for the endzone twenty yards away. Despite yourself, despite your anger and hurt with him, your heart squeezed painfully. Your blood sang, urging him to run faster. You might have yelled it, doing some sort of awkward side-trot along the field with him. Minghao did the same, obviously as invested in the score as you were. He kept his camera raised as he did, continuously snapping pictures of the action.

Several members of the other team closed in on him, but Joshua only pushed himself faster. He narrowly dodged the two men that attempted to tackle him and, in a display of athleticism that stunned you, dove across the line into the endzone.

The noise that followed was deafening. You jumped and screamed along with the crowd, just for a moment forgetting about everything weighing on your mind. Minghao’s long arms encircled your waist and he lifted you off the ground so he could spin in a wide circle with you. You laughed so hard your cheeks hurt, joy bubbling in your chest.

The crowd was still shouting when Minghao finally set you back on your feet. You kept your arms around his shoulders. He made no move to release your waist, either, grinning down at you the same way you beamed up at him.

Later, you would blame it on the heat of the moment. The stadium’s screams, the fact Joshua had just scored what would likely be the winning touchdown, the blinding lights—yes, it had to be that. Regardless, you looked into the stars in Minghao’s eyes and pressed your lips to his without thinking.

The kiss was barely more than a second. You shocked yourself so thoroughly that you pulled away immediately, you and Minghao staring at one another with equal expressions of surprise. But without warning, he crushed his lips to yours again. They were softer than you’d imagined as they slid against yours, Minghao exploring your mouth with languid curiosity.

Your heart felt like it would pound out of your chest. You allowed your hands to timidly drift from his shoulders to the back of his neck, then gently tangle in the roots of his hair. Despite the riot of noise all around you, Joshua being carried on the shoulders of his teammates in celebration, all you could focus on was the feeling of kissing Minghao.

He pulled away after what could have been seconds or hours, his breathing erratic. He stared down at you for a moment and took a step back, releasing you once more. You swayed on your feet a bit after his sudden retreat out of your personal space.

“I just had to check,” he said through a heavy exhale.

“Check what?”

Minghao shook his head as if to clear it. “Nothing.”

You turned your attention back to the game and ignored the shaking in your hands. What the hell just happened?

~ DAY TWENTY-TWO ~

“I think we need to have rules,” you said around a bite of your sandwich.

Minghao raised an eyebrow. “Rules? Why?” He continued poking at his pasta, cutting individual noodles into perfect, tiny squares.

You cleared your throat, aware of the self-conscious heat creeping up your neck. “At the game you, uh, kissed me. Well, I kissed you, but then you kissed me—whatever.” Minghao looked down at his food instead of you, but he didn’t seem uncomfortable. “I know it was just the excitement of the game, I don’t want you to think I expect anything out of you now.”

“I think it’s a little late to establish rules,” he said, finally taking a bite of his strangely diced pasta. “We’re already halfway through the arrangement.”

Your mouth fell open. “We are?” You did the mental math, the surprise shocking you into silence for several seconds. It felt like a week had passed, not a little over three. You had spent almost every day with Minghao, even if it was just for a few minutes between classes on campus. Other days you did things like this, going out for dinner and sometimes studying afterwards, sometimes not. You tried not to dwell on the fact you and Minghao had begun hanging out even when you knew Joshua wouldn’t be around.

Minghao smiled knowingly at you. There was a familiar look in his eyes nowadays, one that was somewhere between affection and thinking you’re a dumbass. “Cat got your tongue?”

You stuck said tongue out at him. “Well, my point still stands. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to trap you or anything just because we kissed once.”

“I don’t think that.”

Great, super helpful. “Hao. Help me out here.”

His smile dropped, his expression turning contemplative. “Fine. How about… no more kissing? At least, not unless you ask.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you frowned.

“That won’t happen. I think we should just tack no sex on there too, while we’re at it.” At your words, Minghao’s face changed to mirror your frown.

“Fine. No sex.” He considered for another moment. “Is the point of this arrangement for you to get back together with Josh?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ sound for emphasis. In a way, the conviction with which you said it surprised you. Until now, you weren’t exactly sure how you felt about the end-goal of your fake relationship. If not to win Joshua back, what was the point? “He chose Chaeyoung, end of story. I think I’m more interested in giving him hell by being happier without him.” You smiled mischievously and Minghao snorted.

“As you should. Fine, then next rule: either of us can end the relationship at any time. If one of us decides we’re done then that’s it, no questions asked.”

For reasons you didn’t understand, your heart swooped into your stomach. You forced a swallow. “Okay.” After a beat of hesitation you plastered a teasing smile onto your face. “You’re not trying to fake-break up with me, are you?”

Thankfully, Minghao laughed. “No, darling.” He smiled when you scowled. “I enjoy the look on your face when I call you ‘darling’ far too much for that.”

“Fine, fine.” You took another bite of your sandwich, chewing slowly.

“Is that all?” Minghao asked.

“One more.” You held up a finger while you finished the sandwich in your mouth and tried not to choke. Anxiety gnawed at the edges of your mind. You weren’t quite sure how he would react to your last rule. “No falling in love. It would just complicate things unnecessarily. Even though you’ve told me that there’s no one else, I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“You have that look. I don’t know, I can just tell. You’re in love with someone but you won’t tell me who she is.”

Minghao stared at you, completely silent. His expression had gone back to the unreadable mask he’d frequently worn at the beginning of this whole thing. You hated it.

“Well?” You pushed.

Like someone had pressed play on a remote, Minghao resumed cutting and eating his pasta. “There’s no one else, but okay. I agree.”

You leaned forward. “Are you sure about that?”

He looked up at you through his eyelashes, his expression resolute. “What do you want me to say? There isn’t. I’ve gotten used to you these past few weeks. I’m having fun and I don’t care to have it with anyone else at the moment.”

You leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms over your chest, evaluating him through narrowed eyes. He looked casual enough—he didn’t have to force the words out and there were no physical indications that he was lying. Minghao, apparently sensing your energy, set down his fork and mimicked your stance.

“Do you want me to break it off with you?” He asked neutrally.

“What? Of course not.”

“It seems like you do.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. You didn’t, not at all. In fact, you were far enough into this… thing with him that you worried how you’d react after this arrangement was over. Would you replace being heartbroken over Joshua with being heartbroken over Hao?

When you said nothing, Minghao continued, “The same goes for you, you know. If someone you like tries to pursue you I’ll step aside. Even if it’s Joshua.” His face turned abruptly nervous and he swallowed. “However, I want to talk to you about something—”

“Did you say my name?”

Every ounce of curiosity at what he’d been about to say turned to ash at the voice that interrupted him.

You didn’t want to turn around. You didn’t need the confirmation that it was Joshua standing behind you, anyway. Minghao’s eyes raised to your ex-boyfriend’s face, his expression holding poorly-concealed dislike. He gave him a saccharine smile that you didn’t believe for a second.

“Joshua. What brings you here?”

He was standing far too close to your chair. Even though you still wouldn’t turn to look at him you could feel his presence behind you like a looming shadow.

“I’m meeting Chaeyoung for dinner. It’s our six-month anniversary today.”

Six months. You thought you might vomit. You knew Joshua had cheated on you, obviously, but according to this timeline he had gotten with Chaeyoung over four months before you caught them.

Minghao’s eyes flicked to you, fast enough that you could’ve imagined the worry in them. “Is that so?”

“You two are dating, then?” Joshua completely ignored Minghao’s pointed question. You knew he was addressing you without having to see his face.

You cleared your throat as a way to buy yourself time to breathe. “Yeah, we are. A little over a month now.” You were too afraid to exaggerate yours and Minghao’s relationship timeline any more than that. Joshua was known to poke holes in anything until it broke, especially when it was you.

At last, you turned to look at him. Joshua was smiling down at you, an expression that didn’t reach his eyes. Months of heartbreak surged to the surface and you pressed your lips into a hard line to keep your face from betraying your emotions.

“I didn’t know you two knew each other, Hao.”

Hao? Since when did Joshua know Minghao? Let alone well enough to call him Hao. You threw a carefully blank glance in Minghao’s direction, one he was smart enough to look nervous at.

“We met at school.”

Joshua stared at him like he expected him to continue, then looked slightly uncomfortable when he remained silent. You tried to squash your pleasure at this. It seemed Joshua didn’t know Minghao well enough to be used to the fact he was a man of few words.

“Did you need something, Josh?” You asked, your voice strained. You lied as convincingly as you could, “Neither of us said your name.”

He looked back down at you. “Oh. No, then. Just stopping by to say hi, I guess. I wish you two the best of luck with… this.”

Joshua hesitated before walking away, following a host to a booth in the corner of the restaurant.

Your eyes bore holes in the plate in front of you. You wrung your hands beneath the table, attempting to slow your racing heart. A cacophony of emotions stampeded through your mind, moving too quickly to focus on any of them individually.

This plan was stupid. You were three weeks into your fake relationship with Minghao and what did you have to show for it? Anxiety that Joshua somehow knew you were lying? Even though you’d begun to feel better in your new friend’s presence, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he repeated your name to get your attention.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t speak until you mastered the stinging in your eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“Don’t push me, Hao.” You raised your eyes to his face, aware of the redness in them without having to see yourself. Minghao’s face was hard with concern and he held eye contact until you broke and looked away. “You’re on a first-name basis with him?”

He was silent for a long moment, considering his words. “Yes. We used to be close.”

You released a controlled exhale, continuing to hide your shaking hands under the table. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have helped.”

“I had a right to know.”

“Yes, you did. Hey—” Minghao reached across the table so he could lift your chin with his fingertips, forcing you to look at him “—I wasn’t trying to hurt you by not telling you. You know that, right?”

You didn’t answer. You leaned back in your seat so that his hand was no longer touching your face. Seemingly disappointed, he withdrew it and folded his hands together on the table in front of him.

“When we met, you said this arrangement would be mutually beneficial.” Your throat was thick enough that you had trouble asking the question nagging at you. “Is it because of Joshua?”

Minghao’s answer was immediate. “No. I want nothing from him.”

You wanted to slap yourself at the involuntary relief that surged through you. You took several calming breaths, all too aware that Chaeyoung had just arrived for her date with Joshua. As much as you didn’t want to look, you watched through your periphery as they embraced and took their seats.

“I need to go home.”

Minghao seemed like he wanted to protest. He opened and closed his mouth but produced no sound. At last, he nodded tightly. This time, you weren’t sure if it was relief or extreme disappointment that bloomed in your chest.

When you stood, you held your head high. You threw some cash on the table for your meal, which Minghao deeply frowned at. Wordlessly, you squared your shoulders and walked away, aware of Minghao’s eyes following you until you disappeared onto the street outside.

It wasn’t until you were safely in your car that you finally allowed yourself to cry.

~ DAY THIRTY ~

Minghao decided, with very little planning, to take you on an I’m-sorry-I-hurt-your-feelings-and-you-cried-over-Joshua date. Or something like that. He settled on taking you to a hockey game.

He knew little to nothing about hockey, but you didn’t mind. The two of you had made up about the confrontation with Joshua last week. Or rather, you had finally decided to stop being angry with him. You had wasted a precious four days locked in your apartment, ignoring his texts and calls while you tried to sort out your feelings. So what if he and Joshua had been friends before? You had no more ownership over him than he did of you.

Strangely, your time apart hadn’t helped. If anything, it only made your yearning for him worse. You kept having the urge to talk to your best friend about him—to scream and cry until it dissolved into healing giggles and easy conversation. Only, Minghao was your best friend nowadays. After losing both Joshua and Chaeyoung in one fell swoop, the man beside you now was basically your only friend. Your person.

So, you allowed him to take you to the hockey game. You shared stale popcorn and egregiously large soft drinks, appropriately cheering and booing where necessary. You explained the rules of hockey as best you knew how, though the old woman eavesdropping behind you corrected you on multiple occasions. You had fun. A stupid, concerning amount of fun.

Halfway through you glanced over at him and realized that you loved him. It was sudden enough to steal the breath from your lungs. You didn’t allow yourself to commit to the idea of being in love with him, but your denial could only go so far. You loved him all the same.

He caught you staring and gifted you a brilliant smile. Minghao had somehow managed to become your best friend and sort-of-lover in the span of a month, and you suddenly couldn’t imagine your life without him.

You had no idea if he felt the same, but you decided then that you didn’t want to find out. Even if he did, Joshua had ruined you for anyone else. You weren’t in love with him anymore, not by any means, but you suddenly couldn’t trust anyone who dared try to be a romantic partner. Even Minghao.

On your way out of the game, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder. It was around this time, while Minghao gazed down at you with genuine affection in his eyes, that you realized what deep shit you were in.

~ DAY THIRTY-FOUR ~

“If I see you take one more picture of me I’m going to throw your camera in the river.”

Minghao didn’t laugh at your threat. Instead, you heard another conspicuous click as he took the hundredth photo of your side-profile. You didn’t look at him, still shielding the sun from your eyes and reclining lazily on the sloped grass. It was freezing outside, to say the least, but it was the first day in a week the sun had made an appearance.

The two of you laid out on a grassy hill along the river, bundled in three layers each and soaking up what little December sun you could. Minghao, in his usual fashion, had brought his camera and spent the past hour taking pictures of you.

“If you do that who’s going to know you died of hypothermia out here?”

You scowled in his direction without opening your eyes. “Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’m sure you’ll shout it from the rooftops.”

Minghao sighed. You half-listened to the sounds of him laying back on the grass beside you, your bodies barely touching from shoulder to knee. Goosebumps erupted on your skin everywhere you touched, even through your combined layers of clothing. You mentally reprimanded yourself for the involuntary reaction.

There was one week left in the arrangement. One single week before your fake break-up. You hadn’t brought up your relationship’s impending doom. Neither had he. As if he sensed the direction your thoughts had taken, Minghao’s long fingers sought yours on the grass. He tangled your hands but made no move to touch you further. You couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or aggravated.

“What are we doing?” Minghao’s quiet words surprised you. Not only because he’d broken the careful silence he so revered, but because it was the question you’d been wishing he’d ask for weeks. In truth, you hadn’t expected him to.

“We’re cloud watching.”

“Darling.” You flinched at that one word, so softly spoken. A plea, a warning, an affectionate reprimand—you would never understand how Minghao was able to convey so much with so little.

“I hate that you call me that.” Minghao’s head turned to face you, a look you didn’t return. If you looked at him now, your resolve would surely crack. You forced yourself to stay strong—you only had one week left. One week, then you could get out of this with your heart unscathed.

“Sometimes I think I don’t like you very much.”

The hurt was immediate. You finally turned your head to look at him, every thought rushing from your brain at the way his eyes burned into you. Your hurt rolled off you in subtle waves, despite your fierce attempt to hide it.

“Why?” You whispered.

“Because you make me wonder.”

That gave you pause. In all honesty, you had no idea what he meant. You voiced your confusion aloud, albeit softly, like you were trying very hard not to scare him away. Minghao still hadn’t released your hand, his skin warm and dry against yours. Despite the brisk winter air, the few small places your bodies touched warmed you enough not to notice.

“You make me wonder.” He repeated himself and shrugged, like it was the simplest explanation in the world. “I’ve never been one to believe in things like fate or destiny or whatever else the romantics tell us to dream for. I was very peaceful before all this, you know. I had my camera and a regular schedule and the few friends who stuck around after we graduated high school. Every day was simple, but I’ve always preferred it that way. Then you crashed into the men’s bathroom like a bat out of hell and… now I wonder.”

The breath had long since been stolen from your chest. “What do you wonder about?”

A ghost of a smile flickered on his face, its beauty there and gone in an instant. “I wonder about fate and destiny and the things romantics tell me to dream for. I always thought it was disappointing to watch the people around me fall in love. A waste of potential, or something like that. People become so wrapped up in those they love that it leaves little time for everything else.

“Yet here we are. The majority of the pictures on my camera are of you. When Joshua made you cry at dinner I thought I was going to tear his throat out with my teeth, and I am not a violent person. I could see so clearly, for the first time, what type of person he made you when you were together. Small and helpless and sad—nothing like the fierce girl that came into my life like a fucking hurricane and stole my peace right out from under me.”

Your chest was painfully tight now. “Hao, stop.”

He didn’t. “I value sleep more than most things in my life and I haven’t been able to get more than four hours a night since we kissed at the football game. When I got frustrated looking at all the photos of you on my camera I switched to painting, only to find I had painted your eyes without even meaning to.” Minghao sat up jerkily without releasing your hand. His eyes earnestly searched yours with an intensity that made you want to shrink under his gaze. You forced yourself to remain still, returning his stare without flinching. “You are… incandescent. Breathtakingly beautiful. I can’t breathe when I’m with you and I’m half-mad when we’re apart. Don’t you see? I can’t win.”

“Hao…” Your warning trailed off, his rapid breaths the only thing to fill the silence. Even the chatter of passerby and the drone of the city fell away, leaving you in a cocoon of quiet.

His hand released yours so that he could hold your face, his thumbs tracing gentle circles across your cheeks. Fire bloomed beneath your skin, flaring everywhere he made contact. Your hands raised to cover his, neither of you moving as you stared deeply into one another’s eyes. You were certain you looked crazy to anyone walking by.

For one tiny, insignificant moment, you allowed yourself to hope. It unfurled in your chest and beat alongside your heart. The possibility that this beautiful man could truly want you the way you wanted him rendered you speechless.

Minghao’s thumb traced your bottom lip and he groaned softly at the heated breath you released. “I have fallen so deeply, irreversibly in love with you that I don’t think my heart will ever truly belong to me again.” His words shocked you to your very core.

He leaned forward, watching your expression through hooded eyes. His warm breath mingled with yours and your entire body locked at his proximity. He was going to kiss you. Again. Only this time there was no crowd, no Joshua watching from the football field, no adrenaline to spur you on. If you kissed him now, there was nothing to blame it on.

Minghao’s lips brushed yours. You’d forgotten how soft they were—the way his breath made goosebumps skitter like beetles across your spine. His fingers were so long that they disappeared in your hairline, tangling in your roots like he never meant to let you go. He parted his lips to deepen the kiss and you felt his tongue ghost across your bottom lip.

You jerked away. You scrambled to your feet faster than he could react, your chest heaving. Minghao stared up at you, dazed, his breathing irregular for an entirely different reason than yours.

“What are you doing?” There was venom in your voice. More than you had intended, judging by the way he flinched back. When he said nothing, you bit out, “Are you trying to hurt me?”

Minghao’s eyes widened. “What? No—”

“Just stop, Hao.” The angry beast in your chest settled, retreating into its slumber as fast as it had awoken. Your shoulders sagged and you looked at your feet. You were abruptly exhausted, sadness nipping at your cheeks as surely as the winter around you. “You don’t mean it. I know you think you do—” you rushed when he opened his mouth to interrupt you “—but you don’t.”

“How could you possibly know that?” he huffed indignantly.

“This whole arrangement is based on a lie. We’ve been pretending to be in love for five weeks, it’s bound to have affected one of us after a while.”

“One of us?” Minghao surged to his feet, suddenly crowding your space. His hands took hold of your face again and he earnestly searched your eyes. You kept your expression blank, worried that if you showed any sort of emotion then you’d crack. “One of us? Tell me you don’t feel it too. Look me in the eye right now and tell me you aren’t in love with me.”

And there it was. The point of no return. You knew you’d have to lie, but would he believe you? It was the only way to spare him—spare either of you—from any further heartbreak because of your baggage. You couldn’t stand to see him hurt, to be the one that hurt him, but you had no other choice.

So, you once again placed your hands over his on your cheeks and took a deep breath. “I’m not in love with you, Hao. I never have been.”

For several moments, it appeared as if he hadn’t heard you. Minghao froze until, all at once, your words crashed into him and he stumbled back as if he’d been burned.

“You’re lying,” he breathed.

You squared your shoulders, still keeping your mask in that unkind, emotionless mask. “I’m not. I’m so sorry I led you on, I swear I never meant to. But we had rules, Hao. We made rules to prevent anything like this happening and you went and broke them anyway.”

You were being cruel, you knew you were. It was the only way. That’s what you kept telling yourself, over and over, as the affection in Minghao’s eyes turned to hurt, then to ice.

“Why are you saying this? Did something happen with Joshua?”

You attempted to laugh but it sounded strangled to your own ears. “No, nothing happened with Joshua. I want nothing to do with him. If we were to do this, it would only hurt worse down the line. I just… I wish you hadn’t said anything.”

Minghao backed up a step, then another, each of his footfalls a resounding crack in your heart. “Forget I did. You know what? Forget all of this.” He turned to walk away but stopped immediately and looked at you over his shoulder. “I don’t know you. I don’t know what happened, but if you’d rather be alone then fine.”

“It’s better that way.”

Minghao’s eyes shuttered. He turned and began striding up the hill as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn’t turn to look at you again, and never once did you look away.

~ DAY FORTY ~

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

You jumped hard enough that you dropped your noodles in midair. They plunked back into your bowl and nearly splashed Joshua’s expensive leather jacket as he slid into the booth next to you. Your eyes raised slowly to look at him, taking in the look of vague distaste he gave you. “And you look like shit.”

You smiled sourly. “Gee, thanks.” It wasn’t anything you didn’t already know. In the past six days, you had barely eaten or slept, and you’d taken your first post-breakup shower only yesterday. Breakup, if you could even call it that. It sure felt like one.

“I heard you broke up with Minghao.”

You cringed. At this point, who hadn’t heard? It seemed like everywhere you turned, someone was whispering or staring at you. “That’s none of your business.” You tried to nonchalantly take another bite of your ramen but it might as well have tasted like tar.

“Fair enough, but who else is going to talk to you about it?”

Unfortunately true. “Why do you care, Josh?”

His eyes softened, just barely. “Because I still care about you.” You threw him a skeptical glare. “And because you’re infecting the entire campus with your heartbreak. It’s making everyone uncomfortable.”

“Everyone meaning you?” The timid smile on your face faded. You stabbed at your food, your appetite long gone. Before you could think better of it, you blurted, “It wasn’t real.”

Joshua’s brows furrowed. “What wasn’t real?”

“Any of it. Minghao and I never dated. It was… stupid, now that I think about it, but this all started because I barged into the boy’s bathroom trying to avoid you and Chaeyoung.”

Your chest felt inexplicably lighter after your confession. You thought that you’d be humiliated if Joshua ever found out, but you realized now you didn’t care. You’d gotten a best friend out of it, even if you’d gone and fucked it up five weeks in.

Joshua stared at you beneath lowered brows, his arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes flicked nervously between his face and the dining hall around him. “Why aren’t you saying anything? Don’t feel like embarrassing me today?”

“I don’t believe you.”

You scoffed. “What?”

“I don’t believe you.” Joshua shrugged. He leaned forward and stole your chopsticks out of your hand, then proceeded to brazenly take a bite of your ramen.

You stared at him, speechless for several seconds too long. “I… don’t know what to say to that. Am I supposed to convince you that I rashly entered a fake relationship to both make you jealous and angry?”

“Maybe it started out that way, but you’re definitely in love with him now. You weren’t this heartbroken after we broke up, I can tell you that much.” Joshua hit his chest with a fist and returned your utensils, a grimace on his face. “This is so spicy, what’s wrong with you?”

You didn’t reply. You just looked at him, your mind racing. You muttered at last, “It doesn’t matter if I’m in love with him. Hell, it doesn’t even matter if he’s in love with me. He doesn’t want me. He doesn’t want all the baggage I have to bring into a real relationship.”

“What baggage?” He shot back. You stared at him incredulously, waiting for him to get it. Recognition flared in Joshua’s eyes and he smiled apologetically. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Have you asked him if he cares about your baggage?”

You frowned. “Well, no. But who would?”

“I think you’re forgetting that he already knows about your baggage. At least the me part of it. If what you’re telling me is true—which is crazy, by the way—then he literally got involved with you on the basis of your emotional issues.”

That was a good point, actually. You took another bite of your noodles, attempting to shake off the misplaced hope Joshua had instilled in you. “It doesn’t matter. I broke it off when he confessed. I was kind of a bitch to him, actually, so I’m not sure he ever wants to see me again.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath on that. He looks just as bad as you do, you know. Whatever you said to him, it worked, but I know Minghao. At least, I used to. To this day I haven’t met anyone even close to the man he is. He’ll forgive you if you’re honest.” Joshua stood and stretched his shoulders, his neck still flushed from eating your food. You stared up at him, more than a little dumbfounded. “Look, there’s an exhibition for the school of photography on Friday. Student admission is included in the cost of tuition.”

You knew what he was trying to tell you. Minghao would be there, no doubt about it. If you wanted to mend things with him, it was your best opportunity to talk to him somewhere he couldn’t shut a door in your face.

He had just turned to walk away when you spoke. “Why do you even care, Joshua?”

He stopped. When he looked at you again, there was genuine regret in his eyes. “I owe you. A lot more than this, considering what I did. Consider this my first act of earning forgiveness.”

“It was Chaeyoung’s idea, wasn’t it?”

He smiled wryly. “She misses you. Even if you never speak to her again, she wants you to be happy.”

Joshua said nothing else before he walked back into the throng of students in the dining hall. You remained frozen for a long time, your ramen now ice-cold and your thoughts running circles around you.

Fear had made you break it off with Minghao at the moment he told you everything you’d been dying to hear. He’d confessed and you’d thrown it in his face, believing yourself too broken to be with someone like him. He was the sun, you were a violent storm. Where he was peace personified, you often felt closer to screaming until the heavens fell. It shouldn’t work between you, but it did.

You loved him. That much was simple. It wasn’t until this very moment that you truly considered he might love you too. He had basically said as much, but it was now, six days late, that you believed him. If Minghao felt even half as miserable as you did now, you would spend the rest of your life trying to get over the guilt of hurting him.

You groaned and let your head fall into your hands. You had royally fucked up.

~ DAY FORTY-TWO ~

It seemed kismet that the exhibition—a.k.a. your excuse to beg for Minghao’s forgiveness—took place on what should have been the last day of the arrangement. You hadn’t even been sure you would show up until you arrived at the gallery.

I’m not gonna go, you’d said to yourself while curling your hair. You’d struggled to choose between two outfits, both of which Minghao had bought for you towards the beginning of this whole thing. Sooo not going. You’d decided to put on a little bit of makeup at the last minute. I’m just gonna order takeout again.

Now, you stood in front of the glass gallery doors, your heart in your throat and fear creeping in at the edges of your vision. It would be so much easier to walk away. He hadn’t seen you yet, it wasn’t too late to back out.

Your feet carried you forward without your permission. Each step was more confident than you really felt. Even if he wouldn’t give you another chance, which you wouldn’t blame him for, you were possessed by the need to tell him he’d been right. You did love him, and you were a fool, and your inability to love maturely was not his fault.

The gallery was beautiful, architecturally speaking. Everything inside the white stone building was pale, glossy wood, accented with stainless steel and glass. A large crystal chandelier dominated most of the lobby space, looking more like dripping ice as it hung over the crowd below. Every wall, even disappearing into the corridors branching off from the lobby, were covered by student work.

Low voices formed a steady hum around you, most people enraptured by the photos on the walls. You found yourself among them. Some of these photographs were incredible. It was obvious to you that your peers had poured their entire souls into their work, and some of these images were somehow better quality than your actual vision. For the first time, you understood what drew Minghao to photography as an art form.

You walked slowly along the wall, stopping briefly to admire each piece. For reasons you couldn’t fathom, a photo of a wilting flower nearly brought you to tears. You weren’t sure if it was really the art itself or if you were just feeling fragile. Possibly both. You continued on aimlessly, almost forgetting why you were here in the first place. You had no idea where Minghao was in all this, but you were bound to find him eventually.

You stopped when you reached the end of one of the hallways, this entire section seemingly occupied by one photographer’s unique style. Most of the pictures were in black and white, a select few of them rendered in shocking color. It was one of the color photographs that drew your attention.

Recognition teased the back of your mind as you approached. It depicted a dripping sink in a public restroom, the entire space covered in grime except the vibrant blue flower sitting on the counter. You had no idea why this scene seemed familiar to you—you certainly hadn’t been in this bathroom before.

You moved on to the next color photograph, but you didn’t really see it. Your entire body seized without reason, suddenly aware of a subtle change in the air.

You felt his presence without having to look. Despite your anxiety at baring your soul to him, you felt inexplicably lighter knowing he was here. Minghao walked up to stand beside you, mirroring your stance with his arms crossed over his chest. You gazed at the picture in front of you together in silence. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t focus your eyes on the art.

“Why are you here?”

His voice almost brought you to tears. I love you. “I came to see you.”

“Why?”

I love you, I love you, I love you. “To apologize.”

Minghao looked over at you. His eyes took you in, heat flooding your skin everywhere his gaze touched. “For what? Breaking up with me before we had a chance to date or crashing my senior photo exhibition?”

You recoiled. “Both, I guess.” You forced yourself to turn so you could look at him. It was a mistake. Minghao looked amazing. His skin was flushed with lively color, wonderfully offsetting the deep black of his hair. He’d foregone the blue-light glasses today, meaning there was nothing to protect you from the weight of his gaze. You realized with no small amount of certainty that you would do anything for Minghao to wear a suit forever. You opened your mouth and closed it several times, unsure of what to say now that he was in front of you. I love you, Hao. You were right. “Are these your pictures?”

“Yes.”

“They’re lovely.” You meant it. Minghao had a mastery over color that you would never be able to fully appreciate.

He looked back at the photograph hanging in front of you, a pensive look on his face. There was a strange, subtle humor there, too, though you had no idea why. “Thank you. It took a lot of sleepless nights, but I’m glad I didn’t give up on them.”

Guilt nagged at your thoughts. He hadn’t given up, but you certainly had. “I’m sorry I gave up,” you voiced aloud. “You didn’t deserve the way I treated you.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“I was afraid. I know that’s no excuse, but it’s true.” You took a deep breath and lifted your chin, staring at Minghao’s side profile as he looked at his photo. “Joshua fucked me up, Hao. I’ve been so terrified to open up again, to anyone, and I ran away the second you tried to give me what I’d been hoping for.”

“I’m not him.”

“I know. I know that now. I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I’m sorry I tried to lie so that you would leave first. It was wrong, and I promise I’m trying. Because I—” you choked. I love you. You cleared your throat and tried again. “I love you.”

He was silent for a long time, long enough that you wondered if he would turn and walk away without a word.

“You love me?” He said at last. He spoke the words slowly, like he was tasting them, testing the weight of them on his tongue.

You shuddered. “Yes.”

Minghao took a deep breath and nodded once to himself. “You haven’t really looked at my work at all, have you?”

It was, without a doubt, the last thing you’d expected him to say. “What?”

He gestured vaguely at the piece in front of you, your eyes following the movement. You processed the couch first, then the fact that there was a body beneath a blanket on top of it. Hair fanned across a pillow, the girl’s face obstructed from view by a glare of sunlight. But one of her arms was extended, reaching limply towards whoever was behind the camera as she held up the blanket covering her. Beckoning them closer, asking them to join her.

Realization broke over you with the force of a tsunami. That was your living room. It was you on the couch, two weeks ago, sleeping the day away while Minghao watched TV from your secondary loveseat. At least, you’d thought he’d been watching TV. You remembered being cold and having trouble falling asleep, enough that you’d sleepily asked Minghao to join you. He’d pretended to be annoyed as he clicked off the television and slid onto the couch beside you, easily gathering you into his arms like you were made to be there. It was the best sleep you’d gotten since before your breakup with Joshua.

Apparently, he’d taken a picture of you before granting your tired request. The photograph, blown up to massive size and framed, was titled To Love Easily.

“Oh my god.” You covered your mouth with a shaking hand, your eyes darting to take in Minghao’s other displayed photographs. The bathroom. The bathroom, depicted more symbolically than it appeared in real life. Another of your hands, covered in flour from when the two of you attempted to make homemade pasta. A shot of Minghao’s fingers in your hair, a tiny blue flower petal tucked between the strands. You remembered it. He’d braided your hair for you before went to the hockey game because you were sick of it touching your neck.

All of these photos, in one way or another, were about you. The story of you, told through Minghao’s eyes. Suddenly, with blinding clarity, you saw yourself the way he did. Yes, you were a raging storm, but one seen through the window of a warm, dry home. If you decided to scream until the heavens fell, Minghao would be there to catch them.

“You love me.” You repeated his earlier question back at him, but it was no real question. Minghao loved you.

“Yes, darling, I love you.” A strangled sob broke from your chest, instantly embarrassing you. Minghao’s fingers gently took hold of your elbow and turned you to face him. “I tried to tell you, but you wouldn’t listen. I already knew why you lashed out the way you did—expected it, even. You were just a little meaner than I expected, that’s all.”

You laughed despite yourself. One side of his lips kicked up in a small smile. His hand gently squeezed the back of your neck and he pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“How do you not hate me?” You murmured.

“I can’t hate you for making a mistake. I knew you would come around. I mean, have you seen me?”

You halfheartedly punched his arm as he snickered. Before you could process that he moved at all, Minghao’s mouth was on yours. The kiss was gentle. Exploratory. It was what the last kiss should have been before you ripped yourself away.

His tongue gently probed yours, one small lick across your bottom lip turning your limbs to jelly. Minghao increased the pressure, his hand drifting from your neck to between your shoulder blades, then to your waist. He gently squeezed your soft skin and, completely on accident, you released a tiny moan that only he could hear.

You broke apart immediately. You stared at one another wide-eyed, embarrassment setting your cheeks aflame. Slowly, a sly smile took over Minghao’s face. Oh god. You’d seen that look many times before.

He leaned in so his mouth was pressed against the shell of your ear. He exhaled softly, drawing a small, contented sigh from you. Minghao squeezed your waist again.

“The exhibition is over in twenty minutes. Think you can wait?”

-----

You didn’t even make it through your front door before Minghao had you off your feet. You squealed as he lifted you into his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his trim hips. He pressed you against the wall of your entryway, his hands braced on either side of your waist.

He nuzzled the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his lips dragging soft lines along your skin. Your sleeve had fallen down past your shoulder, baring your collarbone to the mercy of his mouth. You groaned at each small love bite he left, his mouth so gentle that you hardly felt the sting.

“I have waited—” he began, and you groaned when he sucked particularly hard on the side of your throat “—so long for this.”

You shared the sentiment. You’d developed feelings for Minghao fairly quickly into the arrangement and your brain had been plagued by imagining this exact scenario since. “Kiss me, then,” you said breathlessly.

He needed no further encouragement. Minghao’s lips eagerly found yours, this kiss nothing like its predecessors. He kissed you urgently, hungrily, like he might very well die if he stopped. You flattened your hips against his, a choked sound of pleasure escaping both of you when you ground against his erection. You hadn’t expected him to be hard already, but you figured he probably had been since the two of you hastily left the gallery.

His tongue invaded your mouth with an intensity that drew sharp pants from your throat. You returned his energy stroke for stroke, unable to get enough of him. Your hands dragged from his hair to his shoulders and further down, your nails digging in as you gripped his ass and forcibly pulled his hips tighter against yours. Minghao thrust against you, the friction making you see stars even with your clothes still on.

He gripped your ass hard enough to bruise and jerked you away from the wall so he could stumble to your bedroom. You barely made it, both of you kissing wildly and breathlessly giggling the entire way.

His body blanketed yours as you fell onto the bed, his warmth comforting and heartbreakingly familiar. You both muttered incoherent praises and I love you’s into the other’s mouth, still unable to get close enough. You sighed contentedly as he began to work his way down your body, taking clothes as he went. His chilled fingers slid beneath your blouse and helped you remove it completely, leaving you in a lacy white bra. He unabashedly moaned at the sight, and you would have giggled if not for the wet kiss he placed on each of your nipples over the fabric.

He continued his leisurely journey downwards, his hands kneading your breasts. His lips drifted across your waistline with infuriating slowness. You whined when he caught the button of your pants between his teeth and tugged lightly before moving on. Your fingers tangled in the roots of his hair, simultaneously enjoying its softness and lightly pulling to urge him on.

“Hao, you’re killing me here,” you murmured.

“Call it payback.” Despite his cocky words, his voice was strained with lust. You looked down at him and immediately regretted it when you almost came at the sight. His hair was wild from your hands running through it, flushed color high on his cheeks and his pupils blown so wide that hardly any brown remained.

No matter what he said, he wouldn’t be able to resist burying himself inside you for much longer.

At last, Minghao unbuttoned your pants and carefully pushed them down your legs, taking your underwear with them. You tried to find it within yourself to be embarrassed at your nakedness, but you couldn’t. Minghao’s eyes devouring you like this felt so right that it put a lump in your throat.

“I love you,” you told him again, as if you hadn’t said the same three words a hundred times in the last hour. Regardless, Minghao blushed again as if it were the first time you’d told him, a sweet smile pulling at his lips. When combined with the lust-crazed look in his eyes, though, you found yourself clenching woefully around nothing.

When your lower half was sufficiently stripped naked, Minghao lifted himself off the bed so he could remove his suit jacket and button-down, stepping out of his shoes at the same time. He did so slowly, methodically, and you watched him through hooded eyes, appreciating the tension of the wait as much as he did. Your mouth dried at the sight of him. His body was leanly-muscled and utterly perfect, dotted every so often with constellations of moles and small scars from past adventures.

“You’re so pretty,” you sighed, pleased when Minghao blushed again. He didn’t let your words distract him, instead settling between your thighs and roughly tugging your hips closer to his face. You gasped as you slid down the bed, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

His breath was unbearably warm against your overheated core and, like he could sense how it drove you wild, he blew lightly on your clit. Your entire body seized, your hands immediately burying themselves in his hair again.

“If we do this, darling, I want to make something abundantly clear.”

You cracked your eyes open, unsure when you had actually screwed them shut. “Yes, Hao?”

Minghao groaned and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh. “If you say it like that again I might never let you leave this bed.” You squirmed, the need to have his mouth on you all-consuming. He kissed your other thigh, allowing his tongue to drag to your pelvic bone as you moaned. He waited until you were looking down at him, your chest heaving, before he spoke. “After tonight, I’m yours, do you understand me? You won’t be able to get me away from this pretty pussy.”

Your entire body flooded with heat. “Yes, Hao. You’re mine. I’m yours—” Your declaration cut off in a cry when Minghao’s tongue parted your folds in one long stroke. He stopped to dote on your clit, working you in tight, expert circles that catapulted you to the edge in three seconds flat.

You weren’t sure when one of his hands left your thigh, but you jolted in surprise when two of his fingers poised themselves at your entrance. He gathered your slick on his fingertips and pushed in at the same time his tongue increased its pressure. You moaned loudly and ground your hips against his face, tugging hard at the roots of his hair now. Minghao groaned against you, the vibrations driving you wild. His fingers pushed into you at an angle, over and over again, long enough that they easily bumped that incredible spot inside you on every pass.

You climbed higher and higher with no end in sight. You were a thread one small breath from snapping, your entire body quivering with your need to orgasm.

“You taste—” he sucked hard and wet on your clit “—so fucking good.”

“God, Hao, please—”

“Come for me, darling.” Minghao withdrew his fingers from you without warning. Before you could protest their absence he replaced them with his tongue, thrusting it into you with the fervor of a man starved. Your back arched and you cried out. A light sheen of sweat covered your entire body as you writhed. “Need to taste it, please—” His nose bumped your clit at just the right angle and the thread finally snapped.

Your orgasm tore through you like a shooting star. Your body lit up, explosions rippling all the way to the tips of your toes. You clenched hard around Minghao’s tongue and he moaned, obviously satisfied beyond belief, as you came in his mouth.

It felt like hours before you finally came down. Your entire body shook in the wake of what was probably the best orgasm of your life. Definitely better than any that Joshua had ever given you, a thought which made you giggle.

Minghao kissed his way up your body, his lips and chin shining with you. “What’s so funny?” He nipped at the spot below your ear before capturing your mouth in his. You groaned at the taste of you on his lips, instantly ready for him again.

“Oh, nothing.” You giggled. “Joshua could never—”

Minghao cut you off with an honest-to-god growl. He moved back to kissing your throat, leaving new hickies over the ones he’d already created. You bit your lip, still smiling at the ceiling as he lightly ground his clothed dick against your core. “Will you not say his name after I’ve just made you orgasm?” He asked indignantly.

You pushed Minghao off of you by his shoulders, pleased by the surprised look on his face as you rolled him onto his back. You felt unbelievably powerful as you straddled him now. He couldn’t keep his eyes off your breasts even if he wanted to. You wordlessly reached behind you to unclasp your bra, taking your time sliding the straps down your shoulders. At last you were left bare before him and you tossed your bra across the room.

He began to sit up, his face dark with lust, but you stopped him before he could take your nipple in his mouth. He met your eyes, confused, and you answered him with a knowing smile.

You kissed his jaw, then his throat, pushing him back down onto his back as you moved to his torso. You didn’t torture him by moving slowly as he had with you, looking up at him through your eyelashes to observe his reactions. His breaths turned into quiet, short gasps when your mouth reached the skin just above his pants.

You unbuttoned his pants slowly, taking your time pulling those down first, then his underwear. Your mouth dried when his hard cock sprang free, the tip flushed and glistening with precum. You had no doubt that the stretch would be incredible—both his size and shape were perfect for you, like he had been designed with you in mind. Or perhaps the other way around. If there was ever a doubt in your mind about how much he wanted you, it was gone now.

His hips thrusted gently into the open air, seeking nonexistent friction. You took a moment to admire him and bit your lip. You pressed more kisses to his soft thighs, his knees, his hips. His cock twitched.

“Pretty boy,” you purred. He shuddered.

Minghao moaned again. “Please, baby—”

You cut him off by wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. He instinctively thrusted hard, nearly choking you, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. You wantonly moaned around him, gratified by the hard shudder that worked its way through his body in response.

The taste of him was addicting. You recklessly sought more of it as you took him further into your mouth, stopping only when he hit the back of your throat. You gagged and Minghao’s hands threaded into your hair, pulling it into a loose ponytail at the nape of your neck. You were dripping down your thighs now, a mixture of your cum from your last orgasm and the new need to have his cock inside you.

“You’re so sexy—ah—yes, just like that.” Minghao’s praises were music to your ears, only fueling you to bob your head on him faster. You relaxed your throat as best you could, pride swelling in your chest when you managed to take him deep. He gasped sharply when you swallowed around his length. “Fuck—yes, do that again—”

You obeyed, ignoring the tears overflowing onto your cheeks and the lewd sounds you were making. Minghao seemed so turned on now that he might explode out of his skin. Your hand found his sac, gently massaging it in time with the movements of your mouth. You felt him tighten beneath you, a telltale sign that he was seconds from cumming.

Not for the first time tonight, Minghao moved too quickly for you to process in a timely manner. Before you could blink you were trapped beneath him on the mattress, tears still staining your face and the taste of his cock in your mouth. He kissed you feverishly, his dick sandwiched between you as he ground himself against your stomach.

“I want to finish inside you, not before,” he said into your mouth, eliciting a groan from deep in your chest.

“Yes,” you hissed. You took his cock in your hand and smiled when he jerked. By this point, even with your previous orgasm, both of you were so sensitive that you wouldn’t last long. “Are you clean?” you asked.

“Yes, why—”

“Good, because I want you raw. I have to feel you—”

Minghao cut you off with a wild moan and kiss, his lips barely giving you time to catch a breath. “God, I love you.”

Your heart bloomed with warmth. This is what you’d been so terrified of? Loving and being loved in return?

He helped you line up the head of his cock with your entrance, notching it in just enough to stay there as he pressed a shaky kiss to your forehead. Your eyes were locked on where he entered you as he pushed in to the hilt.

You both released simultaneous moans of relief. Your limbs trembled as you tried to accommodate his size, the stretch burning through you in delicious licks of pleasure.

“You feel so good…” he murmured, taking one of your breasts into his mouth and sucking relentlessly at the nipple. “God, you’re so tight—”

You whined, urging him to move. He obeyed, slipping out of you almost completely before pushing back in. His face fell against your shoulder and he softly bit down on your flesh to stifle his moans. You unintentionally clenched around his length in response, dragging another strangled groan out of him.

He easily hit your g-spot on every thrust. You found yourself coiling tighter and tighter, dangerously close to your orgasm once again. Your walls continuously fluttered around him, made more intense by the string of unintelligible praises and curses that fell from his lips.

He captured your mouth in his again. Your nails dug into his shoulders and dragged low on his hips—you knew you would leave scratches, but you didn’t care in the slightest. Neither did he, apparently, because his thrusts turned wild. He impaled you on his cock over and over again, his pace brutal and unrelenting as you both sought your highs.

There wasn’t a single thought in your head save the feeling of Minghao pounding into you. You were an absolute mess, as was he—hair tangled, sweat-slicked bodies colliding and faces pinched with pleasure.

“Cum inside, baby—” you moaned “I’m on the pill, please. I need you—”

“Ah, fuck—” Minghao cut himself off and his thrusts grew sloppier, signaling that he was close. The sensation of his cock pulsing inside you ignited your second orgasm like a wildfire.

Your walls contracted hard enough that he moaned unrestrained this time, and he stilled momentarily as he filled you in repeated, thick spurts. Euphoria shattered through you, so intense you could scarcely breathe around it. He rocked his hips against yours slowly, working you both through your highs without crossing the line into pain.

When you both returned to earth, Minghao still didn’t remove his cock from you. Instead he rolled onto his side with his arms around you, taking you with him, and you threw a leg over his hips. You laid like that for a long time, just basking in the comfortable silence and aftershocks of your orgasms.

Tonight had ended the best way it possibly could have. You kissed Minghao lazily, like you had all the time in the world to do so. And really, you did. His fingers traced gentle lines up and down your spine as you drew small circles on his ribcage.

“Why did you agree to fake dating me?” You asked suddenly.

“Hmm?”

“The day we met, you said the arrangement would be mutually exclusive. What did you mean?”

Minghao laughed softly. “I’d forgotten about that. That day in the bathroom wasn’t the first time I saw you,” he confessed. “The first time I saw you was last spring outside the library. You were carrying this huge stack of books and you dropped them without question so you could help a caterpillar off the staircase. You put it in the grass and continued on like it was nothing.” Your jaw dropped. You barely remembered that and were shocked that he did, especially in such detail. “I think that’s when I fell in love with you, but who knows.” He drew back to look at you, satisfaction oozing from his every pore at your shock. He kissed the tip of your nose. “I have a proposition for you,” he murmured.

Your eyes narrowed. The last proposition had taken both of you for a wild ride, to say the least. “What is it?”

Minghao smiled.

“Will you be my girlfriend?"

~ DAY FOUR HUNDRED SEVENTEEN ~

You were almost more nervous to walk across the stage because Minghao was in the audience. Graduating college was already nerve-wracking, but put a smoking-hot boy who only had eyes for you in the mix? You were a goner.

You gripped your fake diploma for dear life—the real one was tucked safely in your purse beneath Minghao’s chair—and prayed you wouldn’t eat shit halfway through your walk.

You glanced out at the audience, finding your boyfriend’s face immediately. No, scratch that—fiancé. You still couldn’t get used to it, even if it had been a month already. You glanced down at the ring glittering on your finger, a dainty, whimsical thing that perfectly suited the man who had given it to you.

The sight gave you comfort. You looked back up at Minghao, who now had a pleased smile on his face as if he could sense the direction your thoughts had taken. He flashed you a conspicuous thumbs-up and you giggled quietly.

You turned back to the stage, suddenly aware that you were next to walk. You wished Minghao were up here with you, but he had graduated the semester prior and was left to support you from afar. You watched as Chaeyoung—the valedictorian, funny enough—shook hands with the boy who had gone before you, a radiant smile on her face. She looked beautiful. But then again, she always was. One of these days, you might actually achieve fully forgiving her so you could ask where she got those earrings.

Distantly, you heard the announcer call your name and the following whoops and cheers from Minghao and your family. The grin on your face wasn’t faked—over the past year-and-a-half, more and more of your smiles had become genuine.

You took a deep breath. Aware of Minghao watching you, you took the first step into the rest of your life.

BOOM! and with that, minghaoyoudoin is finally deserving of her name haha 😆 thank you again for reading if you made it this far, please leave a like and/or reblog if you enjoyed!

masterlist here :)

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stiltonbasket · 3 years

Text

chancellor of the morning sun: burdens, mingjue (youth)

In which being a woman in the cultivation world is difficult, and Nie Mingjue comforts a friend.

On the night after the welcoming banquet, Nie Mingjue wakes to the sound of someone crying outside his door.

This was by no means unusual when he was younger; Huaisang often had night terrors after his mother died, and refused to sleep without Nie Mingjue for the next three or four years. But A-Sang is thirteen now, far too old to come crying to his da-ge after dark, and the person on the other side of his door seems to be a woman.

“Who’s there?” he calls, lighting one of his dream lanterns before getting out of bed. “A-Sang, is that you?”

“No, it’s me!” a familiar voice shouts, nearly sending Nie Mingjue to the ground as he scrambles to keep his footing. “A-Jue, let me in!”

Nie Mingjue drops his lantern and tries not to panic. The crying is still going on, but the person who called his name was Lan Xichen, without a doubt; and if she had come to his chambers this late, with the Unclean Realm full of foreign cultivators who would gladly take any chance to see her reputation ruined, then she must have come to seek his help with some kind of emergency.

And Nie Mingjue has not forgotten that the son of his father’s murderer is sleeping under his roof, or that Wen Ruohan openly sought Xichen’s hand in marriage for Wen Xu, and would have forced the two to meet if Nie Mingjue’s own fuqin had not intervened.

“I’m coming!” he says frantically, throwing the door open and grasping Lan Xichen’s arm the moment she crosses the threshold. “Lan Huan, I’m—”

And then he looks over Lan Xichen’s shoulder, blinking at the miserable line of young maidens trailing down the corridor behind her. Jiang Yanli is standing at Xichen’s side, crying into her sleeves, and Qin Su and Jin Zixuan’s first shimei are there, too; and Wen Ruohan’s young niece is standing in the back, holding Qin Su’s arm to keep her from falling over. All five girls smell of liquor, even Xichen, and Nie Mingjue gapes at them in bewilderment as Xichen fists her hands in his tunic and shakes him from side to side.

“Jiang-jie won’t listen to us!” she complains, sobbing drunkenly into his chest: which sets Jiang Yanli off again, and then Luo Qingyang starts weeping, too. “A-Jue, tell her!”’

Mingjue frowns. “Tell her what, A-Huan?” he says gently, wiping his intended’s face. It will be ruin for them both if anyone spots her here in the middle of the night, let alone with four other girls in front of his private quarters, but Nie Mingjue would rather cut his own hands off than turn the girl he loves away in such distress. “What’s wrong?”

“Jiang-guniang thinks she’s not worthy of Zixuan,” Luo Qingyang wails. “But just look at him! He prances around like a prize stallion, and he keeps making a fool of himself everywhere he goes! It’s pathetic! And he keeps talking about how wonderful he is, almost as much as Zixun! Nie-zongzhu, I have to beat him up twice a month to keep him in line, and it’s not even working!”

“Not worthy of Jin Zixuan?” he snorts. “Jiang-guniang, it’s Jin-gongzi who isn’t worthy of you. A-Huan, didn’t you tell her so?”

Jiang Yanli only cries even harder, and Xichen gives him a reproachful look and pinches his stubbly cheek. “She won’t listen to us when we tell her she’s more than enough. Yanli thinks we have to say so, since we’re her friends, so I brought her to you so you could tell her instead!”

“Jin-gongzi should count himself lucky that a maiden like Lady Jiang would give him the time of day,” Nie Mingjue says promptly. “He’ll get over himself in time, and Luo-guniang will beat him into the ground if he doesn’t. Right, Luo-guniang?”

Luo Qingyang nods fervently before listing straight into one of the walls. “I will!” she yells, as Wen Qing reaches over and puts her back on her feet again. “‘N then I’ll put itching powder in Jin Zixun’s pants, and, and…”

“Steal his wine again,” Qin Su suggests, letting out a loud burp. “That peach-blossom brew was delicious. Don’t you feel any better after drinking it, A-Li?”

“No, I don’t,” Jiang Yanli murmurs. “Good night, Nie-zongzhu. I’m going back to bed now.”

“Yanli!” begs Xichen, throwing herself at the shorter girl and almost knocking both of them backwards onto the floor. “Yanli, don’t go! You’re worth a hundred of Jin-zongzi, you—A-Jue, help!”

“What am I supposed to say?” he asks, thoroughly bewildered. “I can go challenge Jin-gongzi to a duel myself, if you like. Would that cheer you up, Jiang-guniang!”

But to his surprise, Jiang Yanli only goes to her knees and trembles like a kitten left out in the cold, sobbing about her fears for her future at Koi Tower and her dread of being bound to a man who will never respect her, her terror at the prospect of having no allies past her wedding day save for her mother-in-law, and then about having to spend the rest of her life within reach of Jin Guangshan.

“Mother keeps telling me that I should try to do better, so that Jin-gongzi likes me,” she chokes. “And one of my Yu aunties told me once that Jin-gongzi has to like me, since that’s going to be the only thing keeping me safe from—from—”

“Why haven’t you spoken to your parents about this?” Nie Mingjue demands, aghast. He knows very little about how his own engagement was settled on Xichen’s side; but not long after his ascension, he discovered that neither she nor her uncle were consulted on the matter, and that the sect elders only informed Lan Qiren of his niece’s engagement after the betrothal papers were sealed and signed and the bride price was already paid.

Nie Mingjue’s father made the agreement believing that Lan Qiren was amenable, and would have dissolved the betrothal in a heartbeat if Lan Xichen ever said she was unhappy with it—even in the months just before his death, when his greatest regret was that he would likely not live long enough to see his grandchildren. But he never disapproved of Lan Xichen’s decision to remain unwed until Wangji was at least eighteen, though the wedding was originally set to take place just after Xichen turned eighteen, and he would even have accepted a divorce if his daughter-in-law initiated it.

And Jiang Fengmian is widely known to dote upon his daughter, just as Nie Mingjue’s father doted on Lan Xichen, so why would he not offer the same choice to his child that Nie Huangyin gave to A-Huan?

“Father would break the engagement if I asked, but Jin-furen is mother’s best friend,” Jiang Yanli weeps, in answer to Nie Mingjue’s unspoken question. “It would make things so difficult between them if Jin-furen ever knew I felt this way. And A-Xian and A-Cheng already hate the idea of me marrying into Lanling, Nie-zongzhu. It would be so much worse for them both if they found out I was afraid.”

“It is better out now, than ten years from now, when you are wedded into that house and bound there by a husband and children,” Nie Mingjue says somberly. “Jin Zixuan is not a bad sort, but if he can look upon a maiden who spends her days tending to her family and teaching in orphanages and finding apprenticeships for street children, and call such a girl unworthy because of her looks and low cultivation—then he is not worthy of any wife, let alone one like you, and I pray he will come to recognize it without some great tragedy to bring him to his senses.”

“But—”

“If A-Huan were to lose her cultivation, I would still count myself as the luckiest man in the world to be her husband,” he declares. “And if she were not beautiful, that would be nothing to me. Whatever the strength of her golden core, and whatever she looks like—her heart has nothing to do with either her face or her jindan, and I love her for that above all things.”

Jiang Yanli’s jaw drops open, and she stares up at Nie Mingjue in open disbelief. Xichen is far too drunk to register what he just said, and Wen Qing seems to have stuffed bits of cloth into her ears to keep herself from listening to anything Jiang-guniang would not have confided while sober—but the word love still burns on his lips like the hot filling from Lan Xichen’s sweet bean cakes, flooding through every inch of his body until he can think of nothing else, and he spends a good two minutes in a kind of stricken trance before wondering if saying such a thing before Maiden Jiang might have hurt her feelings.

“It didn’t,” she says softly—because apparently, Nie Mingjue said that last aloud. “I think I see now, Nie-zongzhu.”

Nie Mingjue opens his mouth to ask what she means, but a small purple blur interrupts him before he can get the words out. The blur skids around the nearest corner, screeching in indignation at the sight of Yanli’s tearstained face, and then it turns upon Nie Mingjue and demands an explanation.

“What did you say to my Shijie?” Wei Wuxian cries. “Shijie, did he bully you?”

“Silly A-Xian,” Jiang-guniang smiles, ruffling Wei Wuxian’s hair. “Nobody bullied me, but Nie-zongzhu made me feel much better.”

“By making you cry?” Wei Wuxian says doubtfully. “Should I get Suibian?”

“A-Xian, no!” Jiang Yanli is giggling now, kissing her brother all over his puffy cheeks. “Come on, let’s go back.”

Wei Wuxian drags her off down the hallway, casting suspicious glances over his shoulder, and Wen Qing charges herself with the duty of escorting Luo Qingyang and Maiden Qin back to their own quarters. However, she declares in no uncertain terms that managing three drunk girls is beyond her, and that leaves only Nie Mingjue to look after Lan Xichen.

“Your uncle’s going to kill me if he finds us,” he whimpers, as he struggles up a flight of stairs with his betrothed yawning in his arms. “And then A-Sang will spend the rest of his life on birds and fans, and never catch up with his lessons in time to attend your clan lectures.”

“Shufu likes you,” Xichen assures him, patting the tip of his nose. “He would never do such a thing.”

“He would if he thought I’d been improper towards you,” Nie Mingjue groans. “A-Huan, have you had anything to eat after you started drinking?”

“Mm, A-Su brought snacks. And Wen Qing kept slipping headache medicine into my wine.”

Nie Mingjue sighs in relief and hugs her a little tighter. “Good. Will you try to drink a little water after we get back to your room?”

Xichen nods drowsily, nearly stopping Nie Mingjue’s heart as she nuzzles against his shoulder, but he manages to get her up to her bedroom in one piece and helps her get into bed, making sure she lies on her side to prevent choking in the morning. He also puts a few pieces of rice candy on her nightstand since he always carries a handful in his pocket for Huaisang, and fetches a glass of water for her to drink when she wakes.

Lan Huan is fast asleep by then, breathing quietly in her nest of blankets with her hand tucked under her cheek, and Nie Mingjue makes it as far as the door before remembering that she is still too drunk to be left alone.

But she doesn’t have a maidservant, Nie Mingjue thinks desperately, staring wildly out of the room as if one might climb out of the nearest cupboard. And Wangji didn’t come along this time, and I can’t wake Lan Qiren—

Oh, no.

Oh, this is very bad.

Anything could happen to Lan Xichen with so much alcohol in her blood, and she might even stop breathing during the night and smother. But there is no one to fetch except for Lan-xiansheng, and that means Nie Mingjue will have to stay with her until she wakes. And given the fact that Lan Qiren will be looking for his niece by mao hour tomorrow, while Lan Xichen will probably sleep a shichen longer than usual—

Nie Mingjue sinks down beside the bed and puts his head in his hands.

Well, that settles it, he despairs, pulling the thick blankets away from Xichen’s face. Lan Qiren is definitely going to kill me.

But he would be lying if he said that the sight of Xichen’s peaceful face was unworthy of death by uncle-in-law, so Nie Mingjue accepts his demise with grace and starts planning his funeral instead.

___

When Lan Xichen opens her eyes, the first thing she notices is the dull pain in her head.

The second thing she notices (after gulping down the water and candy on the nightstand) is that someone seems to have left a heap of something dark near her bed; probably a bag, or a pile of clothes, though she can’t see well enough to tell what it could be.

And the last thing is that her uncle is sitting on a chair by the door, tapping his foot loudly enough to make her head pound.

“Shufu,” she croaks, struggling upright with the aid of one of her pillows. “What are you—”

“Disciples of the Lan clan must not consume alcohol,” he says, strangely calm despite the enormity of her transgression. Her clothes still smell like Baling mead, sweet and spicy and fruity all at once, and she nearly dies of shame at the thought of how shocked Shufu must have been when he found her. “They must not go out of doors after haishi. And they must never share chambers with any member of the opposite sex to whom they are not married, unless they are a relative.”

Lan Xichen freezes. “What?”

“Should I not be asking you that?” her uncle reminds her. “What is Nie-zongzhu doing in your bedchamber?”

Thunderstruck, Lan Xichen stumbles out of bed and stares at the dark heap on the floor, which yawns at her touch and stretches like a cat before springing up in horror.

“Lan-xiansheng, it’s not what it looks like!” Nie Mingjue cries, making Lan Xichen shrivel at the memory of how shamefully she must have behaved last night. “I only wanted to make sure Xichen was safe, I would never—”

“And you did not think of waking me?” Lan Qiren lifts his eyebrows at them. “Even if you wanted to ensure that my niece was well, how could you risk being seen leaving her rooms in the morning? My own quarters are just on the other side of the hall.”

Mingjue ducks his head in shame, and Lan Xichen suddenly wants nothing more than the comfort of his hand in hers. “I didn’t want her to get in trouble, xiansheng,” he mumbles. “She only came out last night for someone else’s sake, and I couldn’t have borne to see her unhappy just for that.”

“You are a sect leader, Nie Mingjue. Don’t look down when you speak to me,” Shufu scolds. “As it is, I am glad that you did not leave her. But as her uncle, I must order you to go now before the breakfast bell, lest you ruin both of your reputations at once and force her to marry before she is ready.”

Mingjue takes the hint and flees, leaving Xichen and her uncle alone. Shufu says nothing more for a while, merely studying the ceiling as if the laws of the Lan sect were inscribed there, and then he clears his throat and points to the stack of parchment on her desk.

“Copy each precept you broke, a hundred times each. The tenth, eighteenth, and seventy-first laws. Go.”

And then, after a moment’s lull:

“I think he will be a good father someday, A-Huan,” Lan Qiren reflects. “Your little ones will want for nothing, what with how he cares for you and how much he coddles Huaisang. I could not have found you a better husband if I chose for you myself.”

Lan Xichen drops her paintbrush.

“Shufu!”

#nielan #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #chancellor of the morning sun #nielan arranged marriage au #my fic #long time no update #it's been 84 years

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Fire and Light (ao3) - on tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3

- Chapter 4 -

Nie Mingjue attended his first discussion conference as a ward of the Wen sect rather than a son of the Nie sect and found it more or less the same misery as it had always been, except with the extra twist of everyone looking at him with pity in their eyes.

The Jiang sect averted their eyes the way they always did. For all his talk about attempting the impossible, the only impossible thing Jiang Fengmian had ever dreamt of was a peaceful life, and his wife was strong in power but bitter and vicious in spirit, parceling out her love and sympathy in small dollops as if she thought she would run out if she gave too much of it away. That being said, their indifference and purely superficial show of sympathy was still better than the steely eyes of the Jin sect, which looked right at him with nothing but empty calculation, as if weighing him to see what use they could get out of him.

Lan Qiren, at least, looked genuinely upset to see him standing there in Wen colors, a frown creasing his brow with distress. Nie Mingjue wondered cynically if the Lan sect would have preferred that he and his brother be dead as martyrs instead of living symbols of Wen cruelty that, despite all their high-flying talk of rules and ethics, the Lan sect would do absolutely nothing about.

Still, he had been the man’s student once, so he bowed his head politely and called him teacher when Lan Qiren came to speak with him during one of the rest periods between speeches.

“Are you well?” Lan Qiren asked. “You are not being mistreated…?”

“Would it make a difference if I was?” Nie Mingjue asked. When Lan Qiren flinched, he shrugged. “In that case, honorable teacher, I’m fine. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my brother; he needs to be properly prepared for the competitions later.”

A flimsy lie, intentionally so, and Nie Mingjue wondered if he really had picked up something of Qishan Wen cruelty after all. It was only that it hurt him to see them there, standing free and saying nothing – the Lan had once been the closest allies of the Nie sect, just as the Jiang and the Jin were often paired together – and he couldn’t quite resist wanting to make them hurt, too, no matter how much he knew it was beneath him.

You were friends with my father and they murdered him, he wanted to shout. Murdered him, and I had to watch him die twice over! How can I be well? How can you dare to ask that of me, have you been well, as if I were still free to speak my mind, to be straightforward and honest, without having to always think of the pain that will follow later?

Maybe Wen Ruohan’s lessons really were starting to sink in, he thought bitterly, and hated himself for it.

He still didn’t apologize to Lan Qiren, but he did go to find Nie Huaisang, making the lie into truth. There wasn’t any point in registering his useless brother in any of the physical competitions, of course, but at every discussion conference there were also smaller competitions in the arts – calligraphy, painting, poetry – and Nie Mingjue was more than willing to lose a little of the pocket money he received each month (pointlessly, since he wasn’t allowed to leave the main manor or visit the markets of the Nightless City for fear that he would try to run away or make a scene) in betting on his brother’s success in those.

He also bet on Wen Qing in the competition of doctors’ apprentices, and Wen Ning in alchemy, archery and weiqi; he even put some money on Wen Chao for mathematics and told him so.

Wen Chao gaped at him. “Me? Mathematics?”

“You always answer those questions faster than anyone else,” Nie Mingjue pointed out, and patted him on the head the way Wen Chao not-so-secretly liked. “Do your best. If you place in the top twenty, I’ll have the kitchens make something sweet that you won’t have to share, something just for you.”

“…could I share it anyway? If I wanted to.”

“Of course,” Nie Mingjue said, pleased by the unexpected question and happy to show it. “It’ll be yours. You can do anything you want with it, even share.”

There weren’t even a full forty people planning to compete in mathematics, so he was moderately confident that Wen Chao – who wasn’t as stupid as he sometimes let himself think he was – would be able to place somewhere decent, and even if he didn’t Nie Mingjue wouldn’t hold it against him. He wouldn’t demand perfection and then ignore it the way Wen Ruohan did.

“Mingjue-xiong!”

Nie Mingjue turned to see Lan Xichen hurrying over, insofar as the Lan sect ever hurried. Lan Xichen’s younger brother was probably also getting ready for the arts competition – the two of them would undoubtedly dominate the juniors’ music competition, as they always did, and probably many of the other juniors’ categories as well – so it wasn’t a surprise to see him there, but it was still nice. They’d only spent a few months together during the summer Nie Mingjue had spent at the Cloud Recesses, his father trying to get him away from politics for at least a short time, but they’d been friendly back then, maybe even friends, even though Lan Xichen was a couple of years younger than him.

“It’s good to see you,” Lan Xichen said, his voice warm. “I wanted to write you a letter, but everyone said it was a bad idea.”

“It probably is,” Nie Mingjue admitted. He didn’t even know what he’d say in response to such a letter – what he was allowed to say, and what he wasn’t. “It’s good to see you, too. Are you competing in the fights later on?”

“I am, though I’ve heard that the main competition this year – swordsmanship – is going to be melee style, which means you’re certain to wipe the floor with everyone. But I can at least hope to place, if nothing else.”

Melee style favored the saber and the aggressive style of the Nie, so Lan Xichen was probably right – it wasn’t as though the Nie sect had sent any disciples, given that it was still officially in mourning for its sect leader. Nie Mingjue should be in mourning, should be refusing to eat meat since he was too young for the obligation to refrain from sexual congress to matter much to him, but it had been pretty clear from his first day at the Nightless City that he would either eat meat or have it forced down his throat. In the end, he’d given up on all the rest of it as well. He could mourn later, when he was free.

Assuming he’d ever be free again.

“Pity you can’t bet on a competition you’re participating in,” he teased, and Lan Xichen did him the grace of at least pretending to smile back. “Maybe you can get ahead of me in archery instead.”

Lan Xichen snorted at that. “I’m still counted among the juniors for archery, while you’re with the seniors,” he reminded him. “But somehow I don’t think that would make much of a difference.”

“I’m not that good at archery,” Nie Mingjue protested cheerfully. “Besides, I haven’t been allowed to practice it in months, not since –”

He stopped, realizing what he’d just said, and what he’d been about to say, from the way Lan Xichen’s face turned pale.

“Don’t think about it,” he advised his friend, turning his head away. He didn’t want to see Lan Xichen’s face like that, all sick with grief. “I try not to.”

Lan Xichen squeezed his hands. “You’re still yourself,” he said. “As long as you can keep true to that, nothing else matters.”

Nie Mingjue hoped he was right.

Nie Mingjue won the melee but lost in archery to Wen Xu, which was a result that pleased them both – Nie Mingjue was still growing and didn’t have the arm strength necessary to fully pierce the target, which gave Wen Xu’s equally accurate hits the small advantage needed to win.

“You’ll win it next time,” Wen Xu told him, and Nie Mingjue shrugged. “You will! You’ve grown nearly a quarter chi in the time that I’ve known you, and you weren’t short to start with.”

“And maybe next time the fighting won’t be melee,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. “There are formats that favor the sword more.”

Not to mention that next time, the main event wouldn’t be the sword, since discussion conferences generally rotated between the various martial skills.

Wen Xu rolled his eyes at him, though, clearly disregarding his words, and Nie Mingjue didn’t disagree - despite his words, he was proud of what he’d achieved.

He was even more proud of the younger children, though: Wen Qing was first in her competition and pleased as a well-fed cat about it, Nie Huaisang had placed second in calligraphy and fifth in poetry, and Wen Ning had gotten seventh in alchemy, his best result in years given his usual anxiety about performing in public. Wen Chao was the biggest surprise, having actually managed to come in fourth in mathematics, and everyone crowded around him, congratulating him, even as he stumbled around in a daze.

“He’d never tried to do well before,” Wen Xu said, catching Nie Mingjue’s gaze and his train of thought with it. “There wasn’t any point, since Father doesn’t care about the smaller competitions, only the main event, and mathematics is never a main event.”

“Surely the fun of winning is motivation enough?” Nie Mingjue asked. “He did well enough this year without advance study that he’d be sure to place in the top three in the next discussion conference if he really put in some effort.”

“He didn’t actually think he’d win,” Wen Xu said dryly. “He just didn’t want you to lose money.”

Nie Mingjue was about to explain that he didn’t care about the money – he wasn’t allowed to go spend it, as Wen Xu knew, and he didn’t see much point in hoarding it when it could be taken away just as easily as it was given – but then the children saw them coming and ran over.

Nie Huaisang in the lead, shouting, “Da-ge! Da-ge! You won!”

“Of course he won,” Wen Chao snapped at him, but in a good-natured, excited sort of way. “Who else did you think was going to win?”

“We all bet on you,” Wen Qing told him.

“Oh, come now,” he protested. “Someone should have bet on Wen Xu!”

“I would have told them off if they had,” Wen Xu said. “Well done. How much did we win?”

“We? Wen Xu! You can’t bet on your own matches!”

“Oh no,” Wen Xu said drolly. “Is that so? My mistake. I must have missed that.”

“Can’t you at least try to make it sound convincing…?”

Wen Ruohan was pleased with the results of the discussion conference. He made them stand up and recite their accomplishments at dinner, nodding as they did, and when he was done treating them like dancing monkeys, he told Wen Xu, “Next time, you come in first,” and swept out without another word.

“What a shitheel,” Nie Mingjue said, a little blankly. To not even give a single word of praise…!

“He can hear you,” Wen Chao hissed, horrified, glancing at the door.

“He was talking about someone else,” Nie Huaisang said quickly. “That person back at the conference – you remember?”

“Of course, of course, yes, I remember,” Wen Qing said. “That person. He was definitely a shitheel.”

Nie Mingjue felt the warmth of their affection, and it only made Wen Ruohan’s negligence rub his heart the wrong way even more.

“You all did wonderfully,” he told them, since someone should. “And I have no doubt that you will do even better at the next conference. You should be proud of yourselves. I’m certainly proud of you.”

He remembered that much, at least, when he woke up two days later, the magnitude of the beating he’d received for his impertinence having apparently knocked the rest of the day cleanly out of his head. There was some more afterwards that he’d said, apparently, but he remembered the important point, and he didn’t want to press any further; the others looked so miserable already.

“Maybe this’ll teach you a lesson,” Wen Xu said, and flinched when Wen Chao kicked him in the shins and ran away sobbing. “I didn’t - I just meant…”

“No, no, I understand,” Nie Mingjue said. The advice had been meant kindly, even if it was phrased badly.

Wen Qing huffed. “I bet you don’t,” she said, rubbing her nose, her own eyes suspiciously red. “What is it exactly you think you’ve learned?”

“Wait until he’s out of earshot to call him a –”

“I am going to smother you with your own robes,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Or at least gag you for your own good. Who’s with me?”

Nie Mingjue raised his one hand that still worked in surrender at the array of murderous glares in front of him. “Don’t attack me, I’m injured?”

No one seemed very impressed with that argument.

“You can’t do that again,” Wen Ning said quietly. His fingers were tight on the blanket. “Okay? You need to be more careful.”

“I don’t know if I can be,” Nie Mingjue said honestly. He was born with a mind as straightforward as the clean slice of a saber – what he felt, he thought; what he thought, he said. He was trying to learn politics and diplomacy, but it was hard on him, difficult. He was not and would not ever be a subtle man. “I’ll try, though.”

“Good,” Wen Xu said. “We need you to stick around.”

Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure why – he felt more and more extraneous these days, with no sect of his own to inherit and little purpose to life other than his determination that Nie Huaisang, and now the others, live as good a life as possible under Wen Ruohan’s endless tyranny – but he nodded agreeably.

They didn’t seem quite satisfied with that.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #wen xu #wen chao #wen ning #wen qing #lan xichen #my fic #my fics #fire and light

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chalkrevelations · 3 years

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OK, y’all, I’m back, finally, with Word of Honor Episode 8, and I have … a LOT of notes on this one. I’m trying to figure out how to organize this. Buckle up, I guess, because this is kind of a long one.

First of all, the usual warning: SPOILERS. This is a re-watch, so there are spoilers not only for this episode, but for the entire show. Scroll away and come back later if you want to watch all 36.5 eps unspoiled.

So, this is an ep that’s really good to me, because the found-family dynamic is one of the things that sold me on the show, and a ton of the ensemble work that builds and enriches that dynamic is centered on scenes about food and eating together, on literally nourishing the body(ies) of the family, from A-Xiang’s repeated instances of cooking bread on a stick over a fire, to fish soup with Ye Baiyi, to Wen Kexing’s elaborate New Year’s meal, and all the various and sundry restaurant sit-downs in between. Feeding each other and eating together is how these characters form bonds. Alternately, inability to provide sustenance or rejection of food implies distance. The point at which Zhou Zishu is still denying Chengling’s request to become his disciple, he’s unable to cook a fish properly for the poor kid to eat. Cao Weining falls in love at first sight and immediately buys A-Xiang not one, but two dinners, because the first one gets cold and he’s going to spend the rest of his life providing the best (emotional) nourishment he can for her. Paying for Ye Bayi’s meal earns a favor from him. When A-Xiang is separated from Wen Kexing and Zhang Chengling and Zhou Zishu, she eats up the little corn family she sees as representative of them, as if she can keep them with her by taking the food that represents them into herself. Despite the fact that Zhou Zishu is losing his sense of taste (evidenced by his ability to suck down wine that any and everyone else spits out in disgust), he continues to fully participate in meals, sharing food and both accepting and providing choice bits to Chengling and WKX at Siji Manor, in a scene that is possibly the most heartfelt domestic bit of the show. Rejecting (dramatically so) the table that’s been set for him by Prince Jin is symbolic of Zhou Zishu’s rejection of their relationship. And as we ultimately learn from Ye Baiyi’s storyline, eating is what makes us human, with all of our messy, painful, gorgeous connections to the world, in contrast to the icy seclusion of immortality. Which makes me feel some kind of way about the facts that WKX started out by burning A-Xiang’s mouth on too-hot porridge before he learned how to take care of her and was saved by her in Ghost Valley and that A-Xiang and WKX, who are both trying to find their way back to the human world from the world of ghosts, become the primary physical nourishers in their relationships with Cao Weining, Zhang Chengling, and Zhou Zishu. It also makes me feel some kind of other (ambivalent) way that part and parcel of the immortality Ye Baiyi achieves for a time and passes on is predicated on being willing to only eat and drink ice and snow, and the symbolic ways that separates you from the rest of the world and from forming the various connections we see forged through food.

All of which is to say that I’m delighted by this ep, where one of the first scenes is an extremely awkward dinner scene at the restaurant with ZZS, WKX, A-Xiang and Cao Weining, which not only plays into a lot of that, but is also comedy gold, and possibly one of the best scenes of the ep (and I say that knowing we’re eventually going to be getting to Han Ying, My Beloved). It’s hilarious how irritated WKX is by the mere fact of Cao Weining’s existence (JunJun, your little pouty face, it’s amazing). And it is triply hilarious how much of a whole-ass troll ZZS manages to be when he realizes the opportunity this presents. I’m not sure we’ve seen ZZS this cheerful … well, yet, at this point in the show, as when he’s just realized how much WKX clearly disapproves of this character who’s after his baby girl and how much of a chance this provides to fuck with WKX. It’s such an asshole move, but at the same time, it’s so weirdly charming to see him willing to play like this. It gives us a great character grace note right in the middle of the comedy - it’s the sort of teasing we see from him with Jiuxiao over the hairpin in Ep 1, and at the same time, it’s also kind of subtle, I think, in the way it calls back to almost the entire ZZS-WKX relationship up to this point. ZZS has clearly been paying attention – almost everything he says to Cao Weining is him giving up with both hands stuff that WKX has had to pry out of him with a crowbar. And it’s blazingly obvious that it’s deliberate. When he compliments CWN, ZZS comments that “it’s our fate to meet each other,” directly echoing what WKX said to ZZS in Ep 2. He waves off the price of dinner, telling CWN that “money is just a possession” after making WKX beg for his wallet and deploy the Sadness Eyebrows before he was willing to hand it over in the last ep. He immediately volunteers his name (or, at least, the name he’s using, Zhou Xu), and asks CWN’s in return. He waxes eloquent about CWN’s sect and background. WKX’s entire face journey through all of this is a delight to watch. ZZS repeats that it’s their fate to meet, and WKX’s eyes almost roll out of his head. ZZS invites CWN to sit and have a drink together, and WKX’s mouth literally drops open. Finally, when WKX learns that A-Xiang is not going to make this interloper go away because he’s her ticket into Yueyang sect, he orders her to go find his wallet (presumably knowing that CWN will follow her when she leaves). As CWN leaves, ZZS reassures him that making friends is “mostly about resonance,” and the implication I presume, is that there is resonance between ZZS and CWN (and yeah, in more ways than one, as CWN will be the ZZS stand-in as these two relationships grow more and more parallel), in contrast to a supposed lack of resonance between ZZS and WKX. I … am not entirely sure that this is just to fuck with WKX, although it’s definitely part and parcel of that, or if it’s a little bit of ZZS trying to convince himself, particularly given a moment later in the ep, which I’ll get to later. In which case, sure, A-Xu. You keep telling yourself that. You didn’t get off at ALL on him staring at you like you’re the most gorgeous thing on earth. Uh-huh.

Outside, A-Xiang and CWN have a little foodie moment together, and if there ever was a fandom that needed a food-truck AU, it’s this one. I’m SO glad that after A-Xiang and Cao-dage got married, they settled down together and opened that little restaurant just down the mountain from Siji Manor. (Shut. Up.) Meanwhile, ZZS and WKX continue to drink inside, now that they’ve gotten rid of the kids. They discuss Mo Huaiyang (:spits:), with ZZS calling him a “cunning old fox” and wondering what a big rabbit like CWN is doing in his den (owowowoOW). WKX promises to get A-Xiang to check on ZZS’s disciple inside Yueyang Sect – he kind of emphasizes that your disciple bit, like he doesn’t really care at all what happens to Chengling, nuh-uh. OK, my dude, you keep telling yourself that, I guess. There’s yet another discussion about Philanthropist Wen’s real motives, which he claims are to empty out hell, which is metaphorically taken to mean saving the damned, although he probably literally means razing Ghost Valley and maybe the jianghu along with it, as he warns ZZS once again that “the fiercest ghosts tend to disguise themselves as human.” And because everything has a triple meaning in this show, this also, again, is also, again, a warning about himself – that he may look human, but he’s not, really.

Meanwhile, Chengling’s been delivered to Gao Chong at Yueyang Sect, where he’s undergoing the worst kind of family bonding. We learn where ShenShen gets his sparkling way with people, when Gao Chong’s first move is to frown at Chengling, feel his biceps and want to know if he’s sick, because he’s such a weakling. We also see where ShenShen gets the yelling and threats of violence. Both Gao Chong and ShenShen put the press on Chengling for the Glazed Armor, as he continues to insist he doesn’t remember anything about it, while Zhao Jing continues to be the “reasonable” one, tearfully telling Gao Chong to be nicer to the traumatized orphan for the sake of his father, oh, oops, I didn’t mean to remind Da-ge of the estrangement with Mirror Lake that’s mentally torturing him now and make him so emotional that this conversation gets cut short, no really, that was not my intention at all, my bad. Sure, buddy. Anyway, this gives us confirmation that Zhang Yusen hadn’t been interacting with his Five Lakes brothers for a while before Mirror Lake was targeted. But never mind that, you can trust us, Gao Chong tells Chengling, and follows up by asking him: Besides us, who can you trust? Which does not actually sound that trustworthy, my guy, and I begin to suspect that Five Lakes Alliance is running things because you’re the biggest bullies, as not a single one of you seems to know how to be the least bit politic. Except for Awful Yifu, who’s not so much adept at politics as at skullduggery. ANYWAY, when asked who he can trust, we can see Chengling thinking “MY NEW DADS” like it’s lit up in neon over his head. We also see him continue to press or clutch the place on his abdomen where we previously saw his injury, so that’s still bothering him, and I can’t imagine why it might do that any time he has to argue with one of these Five Lakes assholes about the Glazed Armor, amirite? I do also notice, though, that he calls both Gao Chong and Zhao Jing “bobo,” which I think is a more familial term for uncle? as opposed to “shishu” for ShenShen, which is martial, and I’m not sure exactly what distinction he’s driving home by doing so, but there you go. Chengling is sent away to rest, and on leaving the hall he immediately gets bullied by Xie Wuyang, one of Zhao Jing’s undercover Yueyang twinks, before being rescued by Gao Xiaolian, daughter of Gao Chong. She takes him to his new room, which faces right onto the training grounds, because no one’s told him yet how much he needs to build himself up, right? And we get to see a bunch of little Yueyang shits who acted like good boys and promised Xiaolian to her face that they would train with Chengling but who then immediately turn around and start mocking him as soon as she goes away, so WKX’s assessment of how the jianghu is full of assholes continues to look kind of correct. What is Cao Weining doing in this whole hive of scum and villainy?

We get a brief detour here to go with Xiaolian to meet Cao Weining and A-Xiang, and she agrees to let A-Xiang stay with her, before a disciple comes to get her to help set up for taking Chengling to worship at the Five Lakes Alliance memorial. Xiaolian helpfully lets us know that this is weird, because it’s going to be dark soon. A-Xiang sneaks away and informs WKX and ZZS that this is weird, because it’s going to be dark soon. ZZS and WKX also spot some of the Tian Chuang Action Lanterns and surmise that some “feudal lords” seen outside the city are up to no good, so they go and skulk in the bushes along the road to the Five Lakes Alliance monument.

This is getting super-long, so I’m going to get right to the next important part, which is the bit where Han Ying (My Beloved) and his Tian Chuang forces have laid a trap for Gao Chong and Chengling on the way back from the monument, and they try to kidnap Chengling. Han Ying continues to be cold, haughty, and capable at his job right up to the moment when ZZS jumps out of the bushes to foil the kidnapping with his signature Swiftly Moving Steps and a frankly ridiculous bit of gauzy fabric tied around the bottom half of his face as a disguise. Han Ying’s instant change of demeanor is something to behold – he can’t even notice that WKX has him by the throat around the hearts in his eyes as he recognizes ZZS. Which, let’s face it, he ought to, because ZZS spent a decade and a half running around with all of these guys with the bottom half of his face covered, so you’d think more of them would recognize him, but apparently the Cover Girl bangs throw them off. Anyway, WKX grabs Han Ying and they use him as a hostage to get Tian Chuang to release Gao Chong, Chengling and a bunch of Yueyang disciples. Once everyone else is gone, WKX and ZZS drag Han Ying into the bushes, where he hits his knees ten times faster than WKX has yet for ZZS, so maybe it’s WKX’s own fault that he’s left standing around, ignored and vinegary. Han Ying is back to the puppy-dog he was around ZZS in Ep 1, and interestingly, the way Zhang Zhehan is styled here makes ZZS look more severe than he has in a while – he’s got a lot of his hair up in the high pony that looks a bit like the topknot from the front, all the rest of his hair is back behind his shoulders, and his bangs are pushed back out of his face more than usual, making him look more like his Tian Chuang self as he talks to Han Ying. Who he calls Ying’er, and omg, fuck you subtitles, for not including this because HE CALLS HIM YING’ER AND I’M DYING. (Also, oh god, I just realized that the Ying of his name is the same character as “hero.” Which, just, the simple fact of it, of course, but also it was used in the “hero saving the beauty/beauty saving the hero” (overdubbed) lip-read from Ep 6, and now I’m dying on the floor, because that’s kind of a weird little link between Zhen Yan WKX and Han Ying already. It’s likely coincidence, but it’s potentially USEFUL, yes, all my fic writers out there?) Anyway, Han Ying is desperately worried - he knows something’s wrong, because ZZS isn’t bothering to disguise himself with that awful fake face anymore to keep himself safe from Prince Jin’s spies, and also, HOW IS YOUR INJURY, MY LORD? (DO YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TAKE TENDER CARE OF YOU?) WKX continues to look vaguely uncomfortable about this whole thing that’s going on right in front of his salad. Han Ying swears he’ll do anything for ZZS. WKX clears his throat loudly to draw attention and suggestively asks if he should leave for a while. (I am not shitposting here, this actually, literally happens.) ZSS literally huffs in annoyance and ignores him. He tells Han Ying that he saw signs of Tian Chuang at Yueyang and thought they were after him. We can see Han Ying thinking, “No, if I’d known you were here, you’d have found me on my knees by your bedside waiting patiently like a good boy.” We learn that Duang Pengju (that asshole) has had Han Ying looking for the Glazed Armor since the Mirror Lake massacre, probably to take credit for anything he finds. Han Ying reiterates that he’ll do anything for ZZS, and ZZS tells him to stay out of all this, saying that what Han Ying can do for him is stay alive (well, OW).

After this, we get a scene of ZZS and WKX still hanging around by the side of the road after dark. ZZS sincerely thanks WKX for his help, and says he owes WKX a favor. WKX asks him what’s really going on with ZZS and Chengling. ZZS says that he couldn’t stand around and do nothing while this kid was in danger, likely stirring some Zhen Yan feels in WKX that we don’t officially know about yet, at this point. ZZS asks WKX, again, about his Weird Thing about the Five Lakes Alliance and whether it was a coincidence that WKX was at Mirror Lake for the massacre. WKX goes vaguely Ghost Valley Master wild-eyed and says of course not! before laughing and saying, “I followed you, remember?” He gets friend-zoned and follows up by asking ZZS, “Why don’t you ask what I think of you?” ZZS – pretty unconvincingly, tbqh – says he doesn’t care and stomps off, leaving WKX to stare after him soulfully and call him zhiji. Much like that resonance thing earlier - you keep telling yourself that, A-Xu. The next time we see them, they’re at the marketplace, probably the next day, and you remember that thing I said about bonding via food? We’ve come back full circle to that, too. Zhen Yan WKX is 7 years old again, he wants some reassurance that he is ZZS’s super-special friend, and he works his way through the marketplace making ZZS buy him every sweet thing to eat that he can find. Every time ZZS has to pull out his wallet, he makes this pissy little face, but he keeps paying. ZZS is hopeless at cooking, but if you can’t make your own, store-bought will do, WKX is craving reassurance, and as uncomfortable as ZZS is with how close WKX has gotten at this point, he continues to provide it. I also want to point out another censorship dub here, thanks again to AvenueX on Youtube: As they’re figting over the way WKX is spending ZZS’s money in this scene, when WKX tries to grab ZZS’s hand, and ZZS is all ‘”Don’t touch me,” the voice dubbing has WKX say that repaying ZZS is no big deal, he’ll just let ZZS order him around, with ZZS’s response being to tell him to get lost, then. OTOH, lip-read gives us, from WKX, that it’s no big deal, he’ll sell the rest of his life to ZZS, with ZZS’s response as a threat to sell him to a brothel, then. :hands:

Quick wrap-up from there: They go watch some exotic dancers, only there turns out to be an unexpected pile of heads in the follow-up magician’s act, which turn out to be from the guys who were in the “bridal party” at the Ghost Valley “wedding” a few eps ago, and everyone swears vengeance against the Ghost Valley. WKX and ZZS go to visit Chengling, who is supposedly sick and can’t see them, but they get introduced to Gao Chong. Gao Chong and WKX are weird at each other, and ZZS is increasingly suspicious. He’s got his thinky face on, and we don’t get any literally pokey fingers, but I can’t help but think there are some mental pokey fingers going on, as he turns over all the info he knows in his head. Then some Yueyang disciple comes shrieking in about a dead body, omg, death, destruction, death, and Gao Chong is all, Seriously? In front of guests? before we’re out.

#zhou zishu #wen kexing #gu xiang #zhang chengling #cao weining #han ying #gao chong #shen shen #zhao jing #gao xiaolian #something something food as bonding #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

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shijiujun · 3 years

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Hope everyone is partying (by yourself, spiritually, or with people, all are totally fine) well into the Christmas weekend! I am back with even more recs (I’ll prolly give it a rest at the 10th one sorry for the spam guys)! This one I just finished a few days ago, because CHINA BOOKSTORE PUBLISHED THIS ON CHRISTMAS WITH MANY GOODIES!! And I was like oh cute long-hair dude, let me read this.

Anyway this is a fengshui + supernatural + body-switching type of novel, with a heavy focus on fengshui! I don’t know if everyone knows what fengshui is (I will prolly do a list for Chinese New Year) and I am no expert, but it’s basically like Chinese geomancy where you can calculate a person’s fate, wealth, marriage suitability etc. with things in an individual’s environment.

So a lot of Chinese people, for example businessmen when they have new offices or when couples renovate their homes, they may get a feng shui master to arrange furniture and add crystals or talismans or whatever to increase wealth/prosperity/happiness or harmonize bad energy etc., just an example. When you want to check the compatibility of yourself and your SO, some people do go to the fengshui master and calculate their 八字 (day, hour, time they were born + other things) to see when is an auspicious day to marry etc.

My ex-editor really believes in feng shui masters because hers really predicted a year that her husband got into hugeee trouble like almost to the day itself apparently. And she always wear an accessory with a snake on it because the master said

Written by the same author (Xi Zi Xu) who wrote Kaleidoscope of Death!

- Part of Min’s ‘Why You Should Read’ Series -

Summary:

This book is set in the normal, regular, law-abiding modern city world where fengshui is heavily believed in, and skilled masters can see spirits, bad energies. Where dogs can be reincarnated as humans, and there are demonic pets that humans can keep, and paper dolls can come to life basically.

Zhou Jia Yu is a government office worker who dies in a car accident one day, and wakes up in the body of another Zhou Jia Yu - a handsome man whose name is the same as his. He’s brought back by this spirit bird in his head called Ji Ba (pun not intended), who says that Zhou Jia Yu is fated to save Lin Zhu Shui, the young, blind fengshui master who has caught him.

Unfortunately, this second Zhou Jia Yu is a con-artist who has cheated the money of several families via fraudulent fengshui schemes, and his scams have led to the death of several children in the process. Legendary fengshui master Lin Zhu Shui and his disciples have caught/imprisoned this Zhou Jia Yu, not knowing that original conman Zhou Jia Yu has died (and therefore his soul is gone), leaving good citizen Zhou Jia Yu in the body of a conman.

Lin Zhu Shui intends to kill conman Zhou Jia Yu (not really kill, kill but probably will do something to his soul, considering there are laws against murder you know) when good citizen Zhou Jia Yu wakes up in this body, but because he has come back from the dead, his body and soul is considered an extremely yin (cold) body, which allows him to attract more bad spirits and energy, giving him an extraordinary, gifted ability to excel in the fengshui line. Of course, being the master that he is, Lin Zhu Shui also realizes that this Zhou Jia Yu (and his soul, in particular) is not the one he caught, and as he has an extremely yang (hot) body, the both of them are compatible with each other. Lin Zhuo Shui realizes that he can train Zho Jia Yu and then takes him on as his disciple.

Cue Zhou Jia Yu being tossed into a dangerous fengshui competition as he figures out just what Ji Ba wants him to do about Lin Zhu Shui. In the meanwhile, he falls in love with amazingly handsome, cool and aloof Lin Zhu Shui (who threatens to murder him if he doesn’t come out first in the competition), who keeps him warm when he gets unbearably cold due to his body condition. They also have to deal with an evil person working behind the scenes, and how Zhou Jia Yu eventually returns back into his own body at the end.

Read:

Novel (Online) | Novel (Print) - Dec 2020 Print | Novel Translations

Characters:

1. 周嘉鱼 Zhou Jia Yu (third from right) - A really cute government office worker whose soul was pulled into a conman’s body, who has the same name as he, when he got into a car accident. Has an extremely yin (cold) body which attracts spirits (good and bad), and allows him to see, smell or hear them more clearly than everyone else except for Lin Zhu Shui. He cooks extremely well too and is considered a treasure in the household by Lin Zhu Shui’s other disciples because none of them can cook for shit. They don’t initially know that this Zhou Jia Yu is not conman Zhou Jia Yu, although they suspect it, and once they fall in love with his cooking no one doubts him anymore HAHAHA.

He gets a feng shui tattoo personally done by Lin Zhu Shui who already knows that his soul was switched, a tattoo which is supposed to help him in feng shui matters. Gets a paper doll son halfway through the story, who he calls Xiao Zhi (little paper), which calls him Dad (and calls Lin Zhu Shui Big Dad - da baba) ;-; It’s the cutest shit ever.

There’s a mystical creature in the back of his head that speaks to him and helps him out on certain feng shui things, and helps him to explain what he’s seeing, but aside from telling Jia Yu that he’s supposed to save Lin Zhu Shui, the mystical bird thing is unable to tell him anything else. Within a few weeks of him waking up in this body, he’s sent by Lin Zhu Shui on an international feng shui competition without having any sort of basic knowledge, only innate talent, much to his panic XD As Lin Zhu Shui continues to protect him, teach him and tease/smile at him, Jia Yu, who is certified gay af, falls totally in love with the seemingly aloof and strict feng shui master.

They probably would have continued like this if not for Jia Yu’s body deteriorating because his body is technically not his and not compatible with his soul, and Lin Zhu Shui tries to find a way to save him, after seeing the future where Jia Yu’s body is rotting as he dies slowly over months and begging Lin Zhu Shui to kill him and let him die.

2. 林逐水 Lin Zhu Shui (third from left, right next to Jia Yu) - Long-haired, wears changshan perpetually and is blind, but can see more clearly than most people. He knows where everyone’s positions are exactly, and can see spirits etc. very well despite being blind. Considered a genius of the feng shui world and is the patriarch of one of the big feng shui families in the world - the Lin family. He’s a master at drawing talismans, carving crystals/gems and feng shui tattooing.

He’s so well-known that everyone wants to be his disciple, everyone wants to get a talisman/crystal/tattoo from him, everyone wants him to come and look at their houses, but he can’t be bothered with most people. He’s also super handsome? So a lot of girls (and guys) are always drooling over him.

He has an extremely yang (hot) body, which is supposed to naturally help to repel spirits and what not, but because of this he suffers a lot in the summer. His body condition is very rare and when he was younger, others said he would not live past 18 years old, and his parents gave up their lives to change his fate so he would survive. The feng shui master also predicted that Lin Zhu Shui would experience another calamity when he was 30 (thereabout), and that year, thankfully he has Jia Yu as his entire house caught on fire in the summer while he was in it (and cooling talismans and the house item placements meant to keep the house entirely cool in the summer were no longer working). Jia Yu helped him to cool down with his incredibly yin body.

Knows right off the bat that this is a different Jia Yu, and starts teaching him as one of his disciples. Can only eat the food hat Jia Yu cooks because his yin qualities transfer to the food he cooks as well, and Lin Zhu Shui usually cannot eat anything else that’s cooked outside. Gives Jia Yu a carved jade pendant he made himself that’s apparently worth thousands of dollars to keep him safe, and is a dumbass when it comes to confessing to Jia Yu hahahaha (although he’s successful at the end!)

3. 沈一穷 Shen Yi Qiong (second from right, dark skin tone) - Lin Zhu Shui’s youngest disciple and also Jia Yu’s best friend, technically. Brash but smart, and is always thirsting openly after his shifu Lin Zhu Shui, it’s hilarious! He’s a little jealous in the beginning because his shifu is showering Jia Yu with so much attention when he’s only been around for a week etc., but quickly gets used to it and supports Jia Yu. Jia Yu always makes fun of his tanned skin, then makes fun of his singlehood HAHA, while Shen Yi Qiong provides emotional support to Jia Yu, and by emotional support I mean when Jia Yu asks him what will happen to him if he loses the feng shui competition, Shen Yi Qiong pats him on the shoulder and asks him to choose a vase/pot pattern (like a ceramic pot where you put cremated ashes) = shifu will kill him if he loses the competition, so gets Jia Yu to choose a pot he likes so Shen Yi Qiong can help him put his ashes in HAHAHAHA. He is the last one to find a significant other, but the one he finds is like a legendary mystical creature who half deceives him into promising to marry him and then keeps chasing after Shen Yi Qiong so he can marry him XD

4. 林珏 Lin Jue (first from left) - Lin Zhu Shui’s cousin but technically his older sister because she brought him up after his parents died. Spends most of the novel being sad about her past lover who died because of an illness, and is wooed a few years later by a legendary golden dragon.

5. 小纸 Xiao Zhi (that little cute white thing on top of Jia Yu’s head) - A paper doll who’s given to Jia Yu after he helps out at the paper doll village/tribe, and grows up with Jia Yu and Lin Zhu Shui taking care of him. Is the cutest little shit ever, can speak, and calls Jia Yu ‘baba’ and Lin Zhu Shui ‘da baba’ i.e. dad and big dad. Very strong, and can protect Jia Yu very well.

Other Things I Like in the Novel:

Jia Yu basically goes to the feng shui competition and destroys everyone else because he’s just gifted in this aspect - When he wakes up, and in the days leading up to the competition, he doesn’t have a cellphone (Lin Zhu Shui and his disciples live in a remote part of town, a traditional-type house, one with nature) and after he wins the competition, other people want his phone number to contact him and he’s too embarrassed to say that he’s basically too poor to have a phone after rising from the dead, so he bluffs everyone and says “My shifu says that handphone signals and radiation will interfere with advanced feng shui readings so I don’t have one” and LITERALLY half of the feng shui training population gets rid of their phones on that day, gullible af

Everytime Jia Yu runs cold, he has to drink some of Lin Zhu Shui’s blood mixed with water/milk, and the man’s yang blood warms him up immediately

Jia Yu has to deal with four of Lin Zhu Shui’s disciples, all who are really suspicious of him because they think he’s the conman, and Jia Yu doesn’t realize they already know it’s not him until they defend him in front of other people, and he’s so touched

Shen Yi Qiong gets his marriage fortune told during one of the cases by accident. He asks when he’ll get married, and the thing replies “Seven Three” AND HE’S SO DEPRESSED BECAUSE he thinks that it means he’ll only get married when he’s 73. It’s a source of jokes between him, his other shixiongs and Jia Yu, but then towards the end he realizes what it means - His supposed match, a legendary mystical male weasel who’s 73 years old XD

Jia Yu keeps thirsting after Lin Zhu Shui, fully aware that he’s very gay himself, and he’s confessed to while he’s stuck in the haze of a high fever, so he thinks it’s a dream. Lin Zhu Shui doesn’t realize he forgot/thinks it’s a dream and is pissed that he’s rejected HAHAHA and then Lin Jue reminds him to not be a dumbass and confess properly, and so he does so again in an empty amusement park, after summoning evil spirits so they can fly in the air and make a heart shape just for Jia Yu while they’re on the ferris wheel XDDDD

#danmei #danmei recs #我五行缺你 #my five elements lack you #my five elements is short of you #西子绪 #xi zi xu #min's why you should read

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thegreymoon · 3 years

Text

Word of Honor

Poor Heartless Amethyst Fiend 😢

Murder and betrayal are hard when they love you so much and you learned to love them too 💔

***

I love these two 😂

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LMAO, look at him causing a mess and then sitting back to enjoy the show 😂

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Uh-oh, boyfriend is mad 😅

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Eh?

This doesn’t sound right 🤔 How much does A-Xu know about WKX anyway? He knows that he wants Gao Chong dead and the Jianghu dissolved into chaos. But does he know he’s a Ghost? Much less Ghost chief?

***

Careful, king, your insanity is showing 😬

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Oh, shit, no! 😭

Why do I always underestimate how brutal this show is going to get 😭 I thought he was going to get knocked about a bit so that we can mock him for getting beaten up by two senior citizens, but no, it had to be blood!

***

Wait... this loser actually came through for her?

I still don’t trust him as far as I can throw him 😠 Waiting for him to turn again.

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Super creepy.

He looks like he and Chucky would be best friends 👇👇

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Oh, yes, become a monk and leave the sect in the hands of two children that are surrounded by vipers inside and out 🙄

Fantastic plan! What could possibly go wrong?

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God, I hope at least some of those kegs are filled with gunpowder instead of wine 🙄🙄

There has been entirely too much talking and talking and talking in this episode and not enough fighting!

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Well. This looks unhygienic and like a good way to obtain blood poisoning and disease 😬

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OMG, Lao Wen, I’ve been yelling the same thing at my computer for the past 20 minutes! 😭😭

WE ARE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE!! PLEASE FIGHT ALREADY!!

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LMAO, I love him 😂

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OMFG, please stop breaking up already 😫

Must we go through this every two episodes? 😭

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Mind control??

Interesting 🤔🤔

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Oh, so the Ghost Valley and Scorpions are collaborating!

But it is the traitor Ghost, so not really? 🤔 Anyway, her disguise is laughable.

She should take classes from the rival Ghost ladies. I could paint on a better moustache than this!

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Well, shit.

This was brutal.

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I feel sorry for him.

I actually believe him that he is trying to do the right thing. IDK, I have nothing to base this on except for that one scene when he paid respects to his old friends and cried in front of their memorial tablets. Also, I feel like it would be too easy if WKX was to be entirely right about him being evil, plus I’m not even half-way through this show and plots need to be messy.

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Fighting! Finally!

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Oh, cutie, you are going to be so wrong, so many times! Listen to A-Xu! He seems to be way more level-headed than you!

Anyway, it’s about time his crazy ass got taken down a peg or two.

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Ahahahaha, smack him, A-Xu!! 🤗🤗

I hate him so much. I know he hasn’t really done anything yet, but just look at his stupid moustache 🤢 He’s so smackable! Also, he betrayed Aunt Luo so he can just die. I bet he’s collaborating with the Scorpions and the the traitor Ghost to discredit Gao Cheng. Shen Shen is a jackass, but at least he seems honestly devoted to First Brother. This one is so fucking slimy.

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Oh, thank fuck.

Anyway, this has got to be some record for the shortest breakup in history.

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LMAO, look at his stupid loser face 😂😂 Flee, Chengling! Flee!

Suffer, asshole! He 100% had something to do with this whole mess. But why is everyone after Chengling now? He no longer has the Glazed Armour piece with him 🤔

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OK, don’t judge, don’t judge, but this guy is hot 🔥🔥

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Actually, I take that back, there is nothing to judge, he’s very, very attractive and I have excellent taste 🔥🔥🔥

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And down comes the monument.

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Eh. There goes my favourite colourful villain 🙁

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What wealth? Didn’t your sorry ass admit to squandering it all away?

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WHAT?? DA GE, WHY??

It’s the other one! You should kill the other one!! 😭😭

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LMAO, look at their stupid evil faces!

Anyway, what are the odds that he destroyed the real Glazed Armour when WKX made dozens of fake pieces that are floating all over the Jianghu? My bet is on zero.

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What a horrible way to kill yourself 🙁

This show just won’t let me thirst in peace 😠😠

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Anyway, you have got to love how shocked and dismayed he always looks when his chaotic schemes end up hurting the wrong people 😕

Did he learn anything when the senior citizen poly alliance ended up dead because of him? Of course not! We had to do a repeat. He deserves to have A-Xu yell at him a bit.

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Of course 🙄🙄

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When he’s a bloodthirsty dumbass, but he’s sad and you love him anyway 🙄

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LMAO, don’t hold back, A-Xu! Tell him what you really think! 😂

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Villain confirmed!

Thank you for validating me, A-Xu! He’s been giving off shady vibes from the very beginning!

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LMAO, look at him, back on his bullshit already 🙄

Cutie, haven’t you had enough?

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That’s right, A-Xu! He more than deserves the scolding!!

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Die. 💀💀

I can excuse being a slimy sleaze ball but I draw the line at his stupid cartoon villain face with his stupid villain moustache 🤢

Scorpion, baby, I don’t know what your damage is, but please do better!

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LMAO, Ye Baiyi is a gift that keeps on giving 😂😂

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LMAO, EXCUSE ME??

YOUR CHILD, LAO WEN?? 🧐🧐

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Great minds think alike 😂😂

I am living for the enmity between YBY and WKX 😂😂 Also, poor A-Xu, he now has two gremlins to defuse 😂😂

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Wait, he’s alive?

I thought Gao Chong killed him??

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So, is Scorpion and illegitimate son he’s manipulating into killing for him or something? 🤔

Is this a Meng Yao situation? Am I getting this right? If so, I’m hoping for a similar outcome 💀💀 Go on, Scorpion, do it! End him and make me proud!!

#word of honor #woh spoilers #woh ep15 #woh ep16

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songofclarity · 3 years

Note

Out of sheer curiosity, what do you think of Wen Xu. Any HC?

Two Wen Xu asks came in back-to-back and I could probably have answered them both at once, but I'll use your daring moment of sheer curiosity to focus on headcanons/theories I have for him, Anon~!

Similar to Su She, who caused problems while lurking in the background, I think Wen Xu, who also caused problems while lurking in the background, is our guy who has been inciting several other rising conflicts between the Qishan Wen and the other sects over the years. He doesn't need explicit orders to do this, mind you, because he is simply doing what any self-respecting son of the Qishan Wen Sect would do. Just like the Twin Prides look to the Jiang motto of Attempt the Impossible and the Twin Jades look to the 3,000 Lan rules, Wen Xu is also guided by Clan tradition:

The Wen Clan used the sun as the motif of their clan, signifying that they could "compete with the sun for radiance, match the sun in longevity." (ch. 17, ERS)

The sun, however, is beautiful and warm and radiant all on its own, which means he doesn't have to play nice with the other sects if he doesn't want to. In fact, it goes against policy to treat the other sects as equals! Therefore, with him being the predominant Wen outside Nightless City, it seems apt to assign these events to him:

1. Monopolizing all the prime Night Hunt locations and excluding the other sects, which made the other sects resent the Qishan Wen even more

Remember Jin Ling setting up those 400 golden nets? That's expensive and entitled! I imagine Wen Xu was our first Jin Ling, except rather than using 400 golden nets it's Wen Xu and his friends and Wen favorites who are staking claims on all the best sites. They're having a fun time and everyone else can cry about it! Remember that guest cultivators love being with the Wen Sect! It likely comes with plenty of favors, and Wen Xu as Wen RuoHan's eldest son had much to offer to gain and keep their support for the Qishan Wen.

2. Pushing the Waterborne Abyss from Qishan into Gusu Lan territory, making it a Lan problem and making the other sects resent the Qishan Wen even more

I headcanon that this event is what eventually prompted Wen Chao to daringly declare that he killed the Tortoise of Slaughter. Did Wen Xu declare that he had killed the Waterborne Abyss (which would sound absurd since the only known way to defeat it is to drain the lake and keep it dried out for years)? Or did he own up to how he simply got rid of the problem? Either way, he made Qishan safe, which is what any cultivation sect is supposed to do for their region.

The Qishan Wen are good to the Qishan Wen and the common folk beneath them. It's really only the other sects that take issue with them and see them as a threat.

*Please remember that the Qishan Wen Sect isn't an empire. They aren't trying to take over the world. They are simply seeking dominance and prominence, with all the power and prestige that comes with it.*

3. It's canon that Wen Xu led the attack on Cloud Recesses, that he accused QingHeng-jun of something to validate this assault, that he ordered Lan WangJi's leg broken when he stood in their way, and that he is responsible for the death of QingHeng-jun (whom I headcanon died due to critical burns from the fire)

The big question here is what, exactly, was Wen Xu/the Wen accusing QingHeng-jun of? It could be something real: neglecting his duties or even something to do with Madam Lan, since we really don't know her backstory. Or something overblown: having two sons who wear clouds on their ribbons, and clouds block out the sun, and those two sons did better than the Wen in the archery competition, so it must be an anti-Wen conspiracy, etc etc. (Wang LingJiao had to learn that logic somewhere!) The latter appeals to me the most, and highlights how Wen Xu was a role model for his little brother. The difference being that Wen Xu had experience handling other sects without getting everyone killed.

Frankly, that Wen Xu destroyed Cloud Recesses and got their Sect Leader killed and made their second Sect Leader go missing and all the other sects let him get away with it just reinforces, to me, that he has indeed been up to no good for a long time and that he is incredibly strong in his own right. Although Wei WuXian comments that the Wen Sect has a higher proportion of weak and incompetent disciples/subordinates, I headcanon that Wen Xu is not one of the weak ones.

But also Wen Xu is not bloodthirsty. He did what he needed to do and the only one left dead was the one that the Wens had a undisclosed problem with: QingHeng-jun. Wen Xu is strong but he has restraint. He never pushed anyone into a corner which could incite a rebellion, which was Wen Chao's mistake.

Until Wen Xu finally did push too hard:

4. It's canon that he went against Wen RuoHan's speech which effectively said to leave the Qinghe Nie alone. By ignoring how Wen RuoHan said that Nie MingJue would not bend, he pushed the Nie into a corner and bit off more than he could chew and got himself beheaded

All the Wens appeared to agree that the Sunshot Campaign was just an act of arrogance on the part of the other sects. The Wens did not take it seriously during those first three months, and therefore neither sought to squash it out or defeat it.

Wen Xu is what proves them wrong when he gets himself killed.

But what was Wen Xu doing in Hejian!? I headcanon/theorize that he was trying to end the Campaign on his own terms. Wen Xu was used to winning and used to the sects capitulating to Wen power and presence. Cloud Recesses was already destroyed and Lan XiChen is no threat, Lotus Pier was conquered and the Yunmeng Jiang were annihilated, and the Wens expected the Lanling Jin to come crawling back to them when things got too rough. This left the Qinghe Nie as the last foe, and thus Wen Xu went on his own prerogative to take Nie MingJue out and claim dominance for the Qishan Wen once more.

RIP Wen Xu

I don't say all of this to somehow make Wen Xu look evil--the Wens aren't evil and I don't understand why some readers want to dumb down the whole story by shoving them into a little evil box--although I guess I headcanon him as having a big head and being something of a bully lol. He's just being the same kind of pompous rich kid like Jin ZiXuan and Jin Ling except he has actual power and authority to back it up. The Qishan Wen are the biggest, richest, most powerful sect. He is the one who will one day inherit it as he is Wen RuoHan's oldest son. So he is both simultaneously protecting the Qishan Wen name as well as reinforcing it's power. He is endearing himself to his father by "fixing problems" and "taking care of unruly sects" before the problem even reaches Wen RuoHan's ears. Considering what we see and hear from Wen RuoHan, and how Wen RuoHan fails to make decisions he's not already being ushered into by a third party, Wen Xu and others are very much pro-actively promoting the Qishan Wen on their own terms.

Wen RuoHan is thus very happy with this loyal and righteous son of his! And it leaves Wen Chao striving to follow in Wen Xu's footsteps.

I headcanon that Wen Xu is much older than Wen Chao, like at least 10 years older if not more. (Who knows how old Wen RuoHan is? However old or young I want him to be at any given time! lol) This puts their relationship in a funny/annoying range of Wen Xu being the big brother but also old enough to pull the adult/parent card. Wen Chao has poor cultivation and he's the baby, which is why he gets Wen ZhuLiu as a bodyguard while Wen Xu, who is arguably quite strong, just gets to run around with his subordinates. Wen Xu is the jock big brother who pushes Wen Chao's buttons and it looks like they hate each other--but I also headcanon that Wen Xu likes seeing Wen Chao succeed in whatever dumb thing Wen Chao decided to do today and Wen Chao wants to grow up to as respected and powerful as Wen Xu (and Wen RuoHan) one day. They are not adversaries although there is competition and conflict between them.

And, as I mentioned before, we get Waterborne Abyss vs Tortoise of Slaughter competition between them. Both of them don't believe it! Father, he is not that competent!

Wen RuoHan laughs it out and disagrees, because he appreciates that both his kids are doing amazing feats. (Are they though? Are they???)

Then there are headcanons of Wen Xu and Wen Qing! Their families were close because they are family and their parents were BFFs! I have yet to decide if I want Wen Xu or Wen Qing to be older. Da-ge or Da-jie? One idea I like for them is that they were close as children, but maybe grew up and went their separate ways a little. That Wen Qing never renounced the Wen Sect makes me hold fast that she did love her family and clan, even if she didn't agree with what they did for their sect. Wen Xu wasn't a bad guy even if he did bad things. (She disliked Wen Chao but maybe she liked Wen Xu a little more lol)

I headcanon Wen Ning's outstanding archery involved Wen Xu giving him some hands-on assistance. (Da-ge? Da-ge...!) Like everyone else in the Wen Sect, I headcanon Wen Ning would have also wanted to impress Wen RuoHan and be noticed by him, too. They didn't keep it a secret from Wen Chao on purpose, it just turned out that way especially since most of the work was done by Wen Ning. (Wen Xu was at the discussion conference but he didn't watch the archery competition, instead teasing it was for babies in order to make Wen Chao cross. Wen Xu likes Wen Chao but he needs to grow up!)

There are also headcanons about his mother, but that's a whole rabbit hole of its own lol My main headcanon is that Wen Xu and Wen Chao have the same mother, but she had difficult pregnancies that resulted in them being born years apart. Madam Wen and Wen RuoHan had wanted a large family and sadly only had two sons. Wen Xu did not grow up short on affection, which resulted in him wanting to protect the Qishan Wen name even more.

I headcanon that Wen RuoHan is a good father and his relationship with Wen Xu was very good, although of course it does not come without it's own difficulties and conflicts at times. (Considering how terrible all the other fathers are, statistically there should be one good one, right?)

There are other random headcanons I could throw in here but I will finish this off by saying I don't have a solid headcanon on who is Wen Yuan's father, although I can see the poetic appeal of it being Wen Xu. Wen Xu burned down Cloud Recesses and said the Wen would help the Lan grow from the ashes. Wen Yuan grows up there as if reborn from the ashes by help of the Lan, given a new name and family, too.

(That Wen Chao is explicitly given a wife in canon makes me headcanon him as Wen Yuan's father though, as I also like Wei WuXian protecting Wen Chao's son for my own dark delight~)

I also tend to think of Wen Xu as someone running around and playing around and not quite ready to settle down. But Wen Xu with a wife and a family of his own? I would love to see it!

#asked from above #anon #wen xu #mdzs thoughts

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tanoraqui · 4 years

Text

[Part 1]

[now all on AO3!]

let’s get back to Nie Huaisang’s poor, innocent POV, shall we? Imagine that you a simple young man - not simple mentally, but simple in your desires. You’re naturally a bit of a fop, and you just want to live that life. Painted fans, pretty clothes, some light gossip with friends over wine...not practicing a blade-centric cultivation technique that’s both exhausting and often, eventually, deadly to the practicer...

In pursuit of this, you engage an old acquaintance in a little light construction of a dramatic but really quite simple lie to your beloved older brother (you really do love him, and you know he loves you; he’s just even more exhausting than the cultivation he insists you join in on). You talk about it together, and figure out something pretty good

and then she betrays you! more or less! in front of everyone, so there’s no way you can walk it back! And...okay, so her lie is also pretty good, and actually does align with a secondary goal re: your older brother, ie, preventing him from blade cultivation-related early death. So you only yell at her a little bit about that, when you followed her back to the rooms she’d been assigned, and it’s not so much “yelling” as “complaining very indignantly and loudly, but not so loudly that anyone can overhear what you’d meant to tell your brother (a harmless! little! lie!)”

(you promise yourself to think faster if that sort of twist ever happens again, get the conversation back to the thing you actually wanted, but mostly you just desperately hope that nothing like that ever happens again)

And...she actually does help him. You have to help her bully him into it - you have to agree to practice with your own godforsaken saber in order to bargain him into it - but...your brother is calming down. You know more than probably anyone gives you credit for about Nie saber technique and its relation to qi deviation, and moreover you know your brother, and you can tell. So...you can forgive her a fair amount, perhaps

but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to whine, when she’s suddenly interrupting your even-harder-earned-than-usual free time. “Wen-gungiang, you’re blocking the peak! Of course I’ll do anything you ask, but please, I need to finish before the paint starts drying!”

Wen Qing just crosses her arms. “I mean it. A real favor.”

“What’s more important than painting my new fan?” Nie Huaisang begged

“Saving a child from death by malnourishment and stress at best, and more likely casual murder or, horrifyingly, overwork.”

Nie Huaisang blinks.

“Or I can tell Sect Leader Nie the real reason you brought me and Wen Ning to the Unclean Realm, how you wanted me to help you lie - ”

“No!” NHS scrambles to his feet. “Wen-guniang, you can’t! He’ll yell at me so much - !”

...and that’s how Nie Huaisang ends up back at the little town of Wen remnants in Qishan, fluttering his fan and rolling his eyes at the same Jin captain again. “I don’t knooow! I think I really am being punished this time.” He smiles just over the edge of his fan, with a lie he’s been planning the whole way over here. “Or maybe da-ge’s just going sweet on Maiden Wen. She yells at him back sometimes, about taking his medicine. I’m starting to think it’s the warrior’s way of reciting poetry in courtship!”

“Ah, Young Master Nie!” The captain/disciple - who I’m going to say is named Jin Qixian, a distant cousin of the main family - laughs. “Your life is so hard. But I’m sure your brother will get over any infatuation soon - that Wen girl you took wasn’t even that pretty.” She winks. “We have nicer-looking ones, though, if he ever wants”

“I think it’s more her strength of cultivational skill,” Nie Huaisang demurs, who’s been watching and sometimes working with Wen Qing for three weeks now, and can’t quite bear the direction this is suddenly going. Nor the memory of a guard shoving a man to the street just because he was in the way, which he saw as he landed.

when they scrounge up the boy and bring him in - Wen Qing gave him a very detailed description of who to look for - it’s clinging to the leg of an elderly woman like a limpet. the child is scared in the way of children who don’t know what’s going on; the old woman is scared in the way of adults who do

“she’s his grandmother,” the guard who brought them shrugs sheepishly under the captain’s questioning stare. “came quieter this way”

huh. well, Nie Huaisang isn’t being blackmailed into picking up an entire extra grandmother. fortunately, he came prepared

he kneels down so he’s of height with the kid. “Hey, are you A-Yuan?”

the kid peers at him from behind his grandmother’s skirts and nods shyly

“Son of [father’s name] and [mother’s name]?”

the kid looks uncertain. The granny puts a guarded/comforting hand on his head and says, “Yes, Young Master...”

“Great!” Nie Huaisang tucks his nice fan into his belt and pulls out an also-nice but definitely more garishly colored and sturdily made one, and holds it out. “Because I have this present for an A-Yuan matching that description!” A-Yuan peeks out a little further, and he pulls it back. “But you’ll have to come here and get it.”

Nie Huaisang is the stranger in the park that your parents warn you about

A-Yuan has been inadequately warned about strangers in parks. He comes forth, and gets the fan. He even mumbles a shy “thank you” before stepping back to the safety of his grandmother

“I also have candy!” says Nie Huaisang, before the boy can take more than a step. The boy perks up. NHS waves a bag of sweets. “But for that, you’re going to have to come all the way back to Qinghe with me, so your Auntie Qing stops complaining about how you’re probably malnourished!”

Nie Huaisang is definitely the stranger in the park that your parents warned you about

The granny had been about to kowtow and start begging for him to leave her child alone, but she stops halfway to the floor, startled. “Wen Qing? Wen Qing sent - that is.” She bows. “The honored young master comes on behalf of Wen Qing?”

Under blackmailed duress! he thinks cheerfully (honestly this has all been going quite well.) With wide, harmless eyes, pinchable cheeks (for the granny) and a huff of annoyance (for the Jin guards) he whines, “Yes! And when all the mountain flowers are in bloom - I’m missing the nicest time of the year!”

All the play-acting really is fun - the best prank he’s ever pulled, in a way. He’s warming up to this whole scheme. And the boy seems quiet and biddable, or at least bribeable - Nie Huaisang can work with this!

A-Yuan bites his lip and points to the fan on NHS’s belt, a very one that he painted himself, on expensive Gusu silk. “If I come, can I have that, too?”

okay, he can maybe work with this

the disciples he brought with him are on the younger side, and thus more willing to hie halfway across the country on an errand that Nie Huaisang implied has his brother’s permission, but didn’t state outright. (Asking for forgiveness rather than permission is almost always the best way to handle Nie Mingjue.) This, it turns out, means that they have less strong golden cores, which means Nie Huaisang actually has to do nearly his fair share of carrying the toddler all the way back to the Unclean Realm. Under! blackmailed! duress!

Nie Mingjue greets them thunderously when they arrive, and Nie Huaisang is exhausted, even though they stayed at several inns along the way. Fortunately, it’s easier to summon tears that way, and he already has this story prepared: he’d actually promised Wen Qing to save her baby cousin (A-Yuan) as well, if she proved that she could really help his da-ge. And she did! So here he is, upholding the honor of Nie Clan! He just hadn’t wanted to say anything in case it jinxed Nie Mingjue’s health, or force him (NHS) to admit that he’d been such a poor negotiator for the Wens’ services, or -

Once A-Yuan is settled in with the other orphans who both are and aren’t-quite-yet part of Nie sect*, Nie Huaisang also pokes his head into Wen Qing’s workroom, ie the infirmary apothecary, “You didn’t just trick me into rescuing Wen Xu’s secret bastard son or something, now long-lost heir to the terror and grandeur of the Nightless City, did you?”

* There was a war. There’s about half a dozen of them, too young to train but with no where else to go

“What? Nie Huaisang!” She leaps to her feet. “You’re back! You found A-Yuan?”

“Da-ge yelled at me for like 20 minutes in the front hall, how did you not notice? Yes - and I was thinking, and I wanted to make sure - ”

“You read too many romance novels.” She shoves past him. “Where is he?”

[smash cut to 2 weeks later] Nie Huaisang cannot work with this. He was supposed to acquire a toddler, not care for it!

okay, A-Yuan is pretty cute, and has a good appreciation for good art. So long as it’s brightly colored and/or involves butterflies.

and it’s not Wen Qing’s fault that his brother put his foot down and declared that the child could stay but only with the other orphans; she and her brother were here to be healers, not mothers. earning their keep.

(he’s still not really over the whole “Wen” thing, for all that Wen Qing has even managed to bully him into meditating before bed each night)

(Nie Huaisang is unironically starting to wonder if his brother is sweet on this terrifying harridan he foolishly brought into their home)

and it’s not A-Yuan’s fault that all but one of the women charged with caring for the orphans also aren’t over the whole “Wen” thing, and express this by caring for him as briskly and apathetically as possible

he finds this out on the third night that they’ve been home, when the last one, a young woman named Wu Yi, knocks on his bedroom door at some ungodly hour, with a wailing Wen Yuan on her hip.

“Shh, shh,” she’s begging. “A-Yuan, you’ll wake the whole wing - ”

“I don’t want you!” he’s crying. “I want Granny! Where’s Granny!”

“Hey, hey!” NHS snaps in his face. “Hey, stop crying! One piece of candy for one hour of not crying for your granny, that’s the deal!”

(that is the deal, arrived at over the course of several day’s travel from Qishan to Qinghe. it helped that A-Yuan wouldn’t know how long an hour had been until he was told)

A-Yuan leans toward him immediately, still weeping. (Nie Huaisang has known him like...3 more days than Wu Yi has, but okay.) “Sang-ge! Don’t want candy, want Granny! Take me back to Granny!”

“Oh- hell - ” Nie Huaisang takes him and he’s cute but he’s gross, he’s crying and snotty and its all getting all over Nie Huaisang’s very nice jade silk sleeping robe; if this is what consequences are like, Nie Huaisang hates them. “Why are you here? Why aren’t you bothering your Aunt Qing, or Uncle Ning?”

He addresses A-Yuan but looks at Wu Yi. Her gaze skitters away. “Sect Leader Nie was very clear...”

anyway, he’s a good kid, and he’s actually pretty good at carefully distributing seed in the aviary, or sitting quietly and entertaining himself with small toys while Nie Huaisang paints. To an extent. Wei Wuxian visited again, presumably for the express purpose of mocking Nie Huaisang for being forced to acquire a toddler, and spent the entire time setting a bad example. A-Yuan spent the next several days running around and shouting excitedly, and somehow found a wooden saber to wave around while he did so

A few days after that, the Sworn Brothers visited, and Nie Huaisang chose to hide out with the young orphans himself, assisting with snack time and play and even bedtime whenever possible. The alternative was either being dragged into hosting or breaking and suggesting that the three of them just fuck out their weird, multi-layered tension. or both in sequence.

if there wasn’t a chance of getting a proper heir between himself and the Sect Leadership, Nie Huaisang was aggressively uninterested in his brother’s sex life. But also, there’s only so much yearning/angry/whatever-the-fuck-is-happening-here tension a younger brother can take

Wen Qing found him on the second day, and waited until Nap/Enforced Quiet Time had taken hold before asking, quietly, “Does your brother trust Jin Guangyao?”

She was serious, so he thought about it. “No. But Lan Xichen does, and da-ge trusts Lan Xichen.”

Wen Qing made a noise that wasn’t quite neutral enough to hide her dissatisfaction.

“Why?” Nie Huaisang asked as though he was asking for gossip.

Wen Qing had never been one to gossip, nor to humor would-be-fools. “Wen Ruohan trusted him.”

(Meaning: what sort of man do you think Wen Ruohan trusted. Meaning: and look what happened to Wen Ruohan)

She left and fifteen minutes later, Wen Ning arrived, with a very specific look on his face. It was the look of one whose beloved-but-exhausting older sibling has ordered them somewhere Safe, who is obeying because they understand the danger but want to stay and help, are pretty sure they could help, but aren’t confident enough in how to actually disagree

Nie Huaisang recognizes it because he spent several months learning how to hide it in the Sunshot Campaign, in favor of a smile vapid enough to be contagious

But A-Yuan didn’t stop having nightmares, and he learned how to slip out of his assigned bunk and come crawl into Nie Huaisang’s bed instead, to curl up like a sad little lump of fear of abandonment, which just meant that the tears and snot got on Nie Huaisang’s sheets, too. And he was starting to feel bad about the whole “fear of abandonment” thing, not to mention the lingering memory of the man shoved onto the street, the fear in that grandmother’s eyes, the smirk in Jin Qixian’s...

So a few days later he was back at the oversight office in Qishan, with the same biddable young disciples as last time, rolling his eyes pitifully over the edge of his fan. “I don’t knoooww, Jin-guniang! Except it’s definitely punishment for me this time...but you know my brother. He’s so scary! He says ‘Jump’ and you have to say ‘how high?’ - and then he says, ‘Onto your sword, Huaisang! You don’t practice enough!’”

Jin Qixian laughed at him as much as at deep-voiced impression, but that was okay. “And yet, Nie-gongzi, I see that you brought horses to ride, as well as swords...”

“I’m not going to carry an entire old lady back to the Unclean Realm!” he cried plaintively. “Do you know how hard it was just to take a three-year-old? I was tired for days.”

She laughs again, as Granny is brought in. “Well, your timing is good - this one was on the list for the work camp at Qionqgi Pass, to be transferred tomorrow.”

Nie Huaisang is 80% genuinely confused and surprised. The remaining 20% is cynicism, and the fact that every time he’s been here, the people have looked a little filthier, a little more trembling with fear and cold, and the guards’ noses a little higher in the air. Granny and the guard that brings her are no exception

He lets the 80% show

“What? Why send an old woman to a work camp - what good would her labor be?”

Jin Qixian shrugs. “Their names are all on a list, and we send the next batch when they call for more workers. If they can’t handle a little punishment, then maybe they shouldn’t have been Wens.”

Even the 20% is dismayed. But hiding that sort of thing is what fans are for. Anyway, it’s not Nie Huaisang’s problem - Qiongqi Pass isn’t even on the way home

“Come on then, Granny,” he says, and takes her by the arm. “Do you know how to ride a horse? I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t know how to ride a horse!”

they’re about halfway back to the Unclean Realm, on a random stretch of road, when a single cultivator flies overhead from the direction of the Wen village, and lands before them. Looking somewhere between annoyed, harassed, and genuinely baffled, Jin Guangyao asks, “Nie Huaisang, what are you doing?”

To be continued... (this is almost certainly Part 2 of 3, but I’ve learned better than to say such things with confidence)

#mdzs #the untamed #nie huaisang #wen qing #my fic #ficlet #fanfiction #a yuan #a yuan's adoptability is an aoe with a VERY high wis save #i did not intend this #nie huaisang did not intend this #guyyys i have to do work in the evening now i think bc i maybe spend most of the afternoon on this instead #anyway #CLIFFHANGER!

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eirenical · 4 years

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This is the opening scene to what will someday be a much longer story, but I think it can stand on its own, as it is, so I thought I’d post it as a teaser. ^_^ It will ultimately be a fix-it for canon that ends in our main love triangle becoming a threesome (because I can’t resist an OT3... ;D), but for now is... mainly Luo Fusheng getting himself in far too deep and then realizing what a terrible position he’s put himself in.

...enjoy? ^_^

Convenience | Granting You a Dreamlike Life

Luo Fusheng x Xu Xingcheng | Rating: M

Missing scene for episode 3--the night before the morning after.

In Europe… at school… many of my friends had such arrangements of… convenience. I always thought… how lucky they were to have that. And now I have that, too! How lucky am I?

Luo Fusheng lay awake for some time after Xingcheng had finally fallen asleep, those words echoing in his ears. He’d thought— It didn’t matter what he’d thought. He’d been wrong. He’d been on one page, and Xingcheng had been on another, and that was the only thing that mattered. Xingcheng’s wandering hands, the dumpling, the way he’d rushed back to the theatre, all but falling over himself to make sure Fusheng wasn’t injured… the way he’d leaned so earnestly against him, pressing Fusheng into the door of his bedroom the second it was closed behind them, mouth opening hot and eager against his… none of it had meant what Fusheng thought it meant.

Convenience.

And when Xingcheng had pushed him across the room to the bed, backing him up with insistent kisses and hands that couldn’t strip the wet clothes from him quickly enough… that hadn’t meant what Fusheng thought it meant either. And when they were both naked, Xingcheng holding Fusheng's wrists tightly over his head as he moved between his legs, sucking marks into every piece of exposed skin he could reach, branding him with bruises of Xingcheng’s own making to mask the ones Fusheng had earned fighting Hu Qi's gang earlier… that hadn’t been what Fusheng thought it was, either.

Possession.

Fusheng eased out of bed and padded across the room to the mirror. The kiss bruises that Xingcheng had left behind stood out in livid color against the larger, duller bruises from earlier. They littered his torso, his collarbones, his neck, raw like open wounds. He imagined he could still feel Xingcheng’s teeth in some of them.

Not love.

Xingcheng’s fingers had left their own marks—bracelets of bruises around his wrists like fine jewelry… the only type of gift a convenience deserved. Fusheng pressed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes. He could do this. He could adjust his expectations. His expectations hadn’t been realistic to begin with. Xingcheng was going to marry Lan Lan. They all knew it. It had been planned since they were children. Xingcheng wasn’t his to keep, had never been his to keep. Not like this. Fusheng should be grateful to have even this much. He should. It was selfishness of the highest order to want more, to yearn for something that was not his, that could never be his… that Xingcheng didn’t even want to give him.

Love…

It was safer, by far, to be a convenience.

To be a friend.

He could do that.

Fusheng reached into his chest of drawers and pulled on his softest set of silk pajamas, hiding that night’s memory away along with the sight of each and every one of those bruises. Pulling out another set of pajama pants and a tee-shirt—Xingcheng never had been able to sleep with his arms covered—he moved to the bed to dress his friend, his brother. How many times had he done this? Helped Xingcheng out of his clothes and into sleepwear when Xingcheng was too drunk to do it himself, or already sleeping? Too many times over the years; so many times that they’d all blurred together.

Memories did that… blurred together.

So many drunken nights, so many nights when Xingcheng had fled his cold, silent home seeking comfort—in drink, in song, in Fusheng’s company—and Fusheng had given him everything he needed, everything he asked for. Always. No hesitation. Fusheng had kissed him, petted him, soothed him, swallowed him down like a personal benediction… but they’d been young, then, not even properly men. It had been fun and games, then. Young men trying to be adults, to take adult comforts from each other, when they were anything but.

It was different now.

Fusheng slipped back into bed, gaze sliding around the room, cataloging the damage from the evening, the things he would have to clean up come morning, before he had to explain it all to Luo Cheng… or worse, Shuang-jie. No. No, he couldn’t risk that. Shuang-jie would see the bruises, no matter how he tried to hide them. She would ask, and she would scold, and the word ‘convenience’ would slip off his tongue and shatter on the floor for him to cut himself to ribbons on and she would know—

Fusheng bit down hard on his forearm, breathing ragged as he fought to get himself under control, adding one more damning bruise to the set he already had. When Fusheng came back to himself enough to disengage his teeth and lower his arm, Xingcheng had shifted, turning towards him in the bed, his left arm now slung over Fusheng’s stomach, his hand heavy and possessive where it lay, and a sweet, contented smile on his face as he curled closer.

And, in spite of his turmoil, that smile… that possessive arm… they sparked a surge of warmth in Fusheng’s chest, even as a tendril of deeper, darker heat coiled low in his belly.

In all of Dongjiang, the only one who can tell me what to do… I’m afraid it’s you.

The words had slipped out of him in a moment of sentimentality on the back of a motorcycle, the wind snatching them away so quickly that Fusheng had almost hoped Xingcheng hadn’t heard. Fusheng had once sworn that he would never let Xingcheng know that, would never reveal how deeply Xingcheng had hold of him. Da-ge had forced that promise from him one drunken night while Xingcheng was overseas. Fusheng hadn’t understood then, how dangerous that knowledge could be for him, if Xingcheng had it.

Fusheng understood, now.

And it was far, far too late to do anything about it.

Da-ge… you were right. You were right, and I’m sorry. I should have listened.

Resolutely closing his eyes, Fusheng did his best to let it go, to let Xingcheng’s warmth and sleepy weight drag him down to sleep, himself—desperately hoping all the while that that was the only thing Xingcheng would drag him down to… and somehow knowing that he was not going to get off that easily. Xingcheng owned him, body, heart, and soul… and now Xingcheng knew it. Fusheng didn’t stand a chance.

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mispatchedgreens · 3 months

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stupid nonsense hours, feat. xu da's carefully crafted hotboy insta

special acknowledgements to 1. the esen tittyposting post, 2. that insta story font, which is the only one i've ever used

#the radiant emperor #she who became the sun #he who drowned the world #xu da #my art #okay listen i was drawing more of those manga cover things and i was doing one for MY BEST FRIEND XU DA and then #then i thought actually xu da genuine and self aware thirst traps and aesthetic posts on insta #so. so. uh. um. yeah. here he is i love him #ouyang and yuchun gotta leave mean comments otherwise their manna bar dries up #for different reasons each obviously

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ibijau · 4 years

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Burn it down AU // on AO3 // extras on AO3

say hello to me torturing LXC because I’m fucking blocked on all my fics and need to prove myself I can still write anyway, have some lxc plotting to marry his brother to his own soulmate :D

“Are you sure?” Lan Qiren asks, who doesn't know. If he knew, he would oppose this, suspecting some trick.

There is no trick, just desperate hope that this might help Lan Wangji.

“Does Uncle object to my suggestion?” Lan Xichen asks with a mild smile.

“We did not get rid of Wei Wuxian to throw your brother into the arms of someone just as bad.”

It is an effort to keep smiling when every fibre of Lan Xichen's body, every part of his soul wants to scream that there is no comparison possible between a man like Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang.

“Uncle is perhaps a little unfair,” he says instead, as gently as he can to soften the fact that he dares show opposition. “If nothing else, Nie Huaisang would bring us a most welcome alliance, strengthen our ties with Qinghe Nie. With such strong links between Lanling Jin and Yunmeng Jiang, we must think of these things, mustn't we?”

“A marriage with a woman would be better.”

“I remember Uncle admitting that it would be impossible to get Wangji to marry a woman,” Lan Xichen notes, unable to keep a bitter edge from his voice. “Even if you force him, do you really think you will get an heir out of that union?”

“Who knows?” Lan Qiren remarks, stroking his beard. “He had his Wen bastard.”

Lan Xichen pinches his lips. His brother hasn't said anything of Wen Yuan's parentage, but he doubts there's a single drop of Lan blood in that child. There might be some Wei, though. Wen Qing was a pretty woman, and Wei Wuxian did drop everything to protect her people, before eventually going mad with grief after her death.

“You know how alcohol affects him,” Lan Xichen states. “Aside from this, I cannot explain the child.”

Lan Qiren sighs, but reluctantly nods.

“We'll see what the Nies will say to this. I wouldn't be surprised if they refused. It's hardly a flattering match for them.”

“Are you sure?” Nie Mingjue asks, who perhaps suspected, once. He used to tease Lan Xichen for being too indulgent towards Nie Huaisang. He's stopped doing that lately. There is no longer any chance for him to do it, when Lan Xichen still does his best to avoid the younger man.

“You've said yourself that it is hard to find a good match for your brother,” Lan Xichen points out, as if his heart isn't bleeding for a chance to be that match.

“I'm not sure your brother is exactly a good party anymore,” Nie Mingjue retorts. “Not after that business in Nightless City. I know Huaisang's not exactly the most desirable bachelor out there either, but I wonder if he couldn't do better.”

Lan Xichen nods politely. It hurts that his brother's reputation has been lessened, but that was Lan Wangji's own choice. All for a man who never cared for him, all for the memory of a teenager who was once the first person to really try to befriend him. Lan Xichen knows he shouldn't judge, not when his own passion for Nie Huaisang is not so different, but if he was strong enough to still make the right choices, why not Lan Wangji as well?

“I would never put pressure on you to accept the match if it is distasteful to you,” Lan Xichen promises. “And of course I hope Huaisang will also have his word to say in the matter.”

Nie Mingjue barks a laugh.

“Of course he will. That brat! It's impossible to make him do something he doesn't want. And once he's decided something, it's even harder to make him stop. Anyone who says I'm stubborn just hasn't ever had an argument with my brother.”

“He certainly has a mind of his own.”

“Hm. Do you want to be the one to ask him?”

The blood freezes in Lan Xichen's veins, though he manages to keep his smile on as he shakes his head. He can do a lot for his sect, for his family, but asking him to go to the man he loves and suggest he should marry Lan Wangji is... he cannot bear it. His uncle would be disappointed to find him still so weak, even after years of trying to extinguish this love that cannot be.

“I think it is better if it comes from you,” Lan Xichen says mildly. “I have given you my reasons, so I know you can share them with him. And if you're the one telling him, then you can share your misgivings without fear of offending me. I must insist that I won't take it as a slight if in the end, this doesn't happen. I feel I have to try, but if it doesn't work out, I will look for another idea.”

“I'll talk to him tonight.”

Lan Xichen thanks his sworn brother for this, and pushes the conversation in a less distressful direction. It is not easy. These days, most subjects of discussion carry pain and regrets.

That night, as he lays in bed in his guest bedroom in the Unclean Realm, Lan Xichen finds himself fighting a hope that shouldn't be. He knows that at this exact moment, Nie Mingjue must be telling his brother about the match offered to him, and perhaps...

Perhaps Nie Huaisang will come running to him, shouting at Lan Xichen for forgetting that moment they shared. Perhaps he will profess his love and Lan Xichen will finally have a reason to break, to give in, to kiss him again, to be his again. Lan Qiren won't let them marry but they could elope, they could leave behind all this politic, become rogue cultivators, let others deal with this mess. Lan Xichen isn't the one who sided with a criminal, he bent before all the rules, all the customs, all the traditions, so why shouldn't he get what he wants for once?

All Nie Huaisang has to do is say the word and Lan Xichen is his.

He always was.

“Are you sure?” Jin Guangyao asks, who does know because when they met Lan Xichen, wounded and delirious, confessed that he loved his best friend's brother and would ask for his hand if they came out of this victorious.

“I wouldn't have suggested it if I weren't,” Lan Xichen replies with a short, polite laugh, glad for this break from the guest list. Nie Huaisang was right, Jin Guangyao confirmed that the list is a disaster waiting to happen. Of course Nie Huaisang was right. “I'm quite over it, don't worry. I suppose it was never more than a teenager's infatuation. I think Wangji and him will be good for each other.”

Jin Guangyao glances at him, unconvinced. For a brief moment, Lan Xichen wonders if he will be called out on his lie. He half wants to be. He would be so grateful to his sworn brother if Jin Guangyao gave him a chance to say the truth, just once, to explain how much it hurts that Nie Huaisang so easily agreed to marry Lan Wangji, how stupid he feels for ever believing that Nie Huaisang loved him back, how much he wishes he were allowed to break and hide away, as his father did.

He is tired of being strong. He is tired in general. There hasn't been a single moment of peace in his life since the day Wen Xu came to burn down his home, and Lan Xichen is exhausted.

Yet Jin Guangyao, too polite to probe, doesn't even give him a chance to wallow in self-pity.

“I'm glad Er-Ge took my advice on this matter,” he says with a pleased smile. “I had not expected Er-Ge to pick such a husband for his brother, but I think you are right. Huaisang is spirited and pretty, but ultimately he is also harmless and unambitious so he will never tempt Wangji away from the righteous path. And since Huaisang is the sort of person who can get along with anyone, your brother is sure to start liking him sooner or later.”

“It is my hope. My brother deserves someone who can make him happy.”

“So do you, Er-Ge. Perhaps after we are done with this wedding, we should find you a bride?”

“There is no urgency,” Lan Xichen replies with a small chuckle. “Of course, with Wangji's child being legitimised, the issue of succession becomes a little less concerning. It is just as well. I am not in a hurry to marry. But if you want to play matchmaker, I do fear that Da-Ge will start getting lonely without Huaisang.”

Jin Guangyao grimaces at the thought.

“I'd rather find a bride for Er-Ge than Da-Ge,” he confesses. “You are far easier to please, and besides you know he will find objections with anyone I might suggest for him. He still resents me so much, I don't know what to do.”

“He'll get over it. He won't say, but I believe he is very happy to be getting so much help to organise this wedding. It will take time, but I know someday he'll let go of his grudge and see you had no choice. And if we find him a good wife, it will probably help. He won't have time to hold on to old disputes if he's busy raising a few children.”

“Fatherhood changes a man,” Jin Guangyao agrees, perhaps thinking of his own child, set to be born in only a few months. “As does marriage. You are right, we need to take care of our Da-Ge. But then you're next, Er-Ge. With all due respect, Er-Ge doesn't strike me as someone who should stay on his own.”

Lan Xichen laughs at that.

He certainly doesn't want to be on his own.

But aside from this one afternoon during the war, he's never been good at getting what he wants, anyway.

#xisang #burn it down au #jau writes #I was going to write about lxc's side of the story after lwj told him that nhs does love him but *shrug*#I'm depressed and so is lxc lol #mdzs

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aki-draws-things · 3 years

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NaNoWriMo 2020 #20

And here we are, at the end of this month. For around 2k words I didn’t met the 50k goal but it’s fine nevertheless. I wrote, everyday for a whole month, I created things mostly for myself, worked on fics I’m going to expand . I probably got even a little better. All while still working full time and currently battling mental health that is proving to be harder than ever. So, in the end, it’s still a success and I’m proud of it.

This fic ended up way longer, but it also belongs to one of my favorite AUs and I just couldn’t stop writing.

Just a little background that I didn’t explained in the fic, Lan Qiren finds the Yin Iron instead of Wen Ruohan and the story moves accordingly. I wrote a little snippet or two before, of this reverse au, but this one is mostly focused on Wen Xu and Nie Mingjue.

Prompt: Trail of blood

Ship: Mingjue/Zonghui (but that’s not the focus)

Word Count: 6608

They once had been friends. He once had dreamed of becoming their sworn brother like his father did when he was younger, he once dreamed the three of them, heir to three of the Great Sects, standing together, side by side. Undisturbed. Untouched by mundane fights. Powerful and proud and strong in their friendship and brotherhood. He had always been a dreamer and his father warned him, not too long before that day, dreamers have a hard life in that world. The world is cruel and people easily turn against you, even those you trust the most. Especially those you trust the most.

They take you by the hand one day, treat you with kindness and love, they teach you what teachers and parents won’t. And you trust them. You love them. You love them so much you burst into flames. And they stay there and watch you burn, because they're the one starting the fire and they admire their great work.

And you burn.

He didn’t understand at first. He blamed his father’s words on grief. His older sworn brother had been badly wounded by a horned beast during a night hunt together, a hunt his older son joined too. He still remembered the look on Nie MingJue’s face when he told him, little Huaisang wailing inconsolable in his arms, the look when he asked him to take care of his little brother because the Unclean Realm wasn’t the best place for him. It took a while for Huaisang to finally let go of his brother, promises of sweets and some new brushes and fans, in the end he let go, only to cling just as desperately at him.

“Da-ge will be back to you before you even notice.” It was a lie, but aren't lies that people always say in those cases? Nie Huaisang started to ask of his brother right after dinner and the wailings started again, now followed by his own brother’s crying, in solidarity.

“Why are you even crying now?” His brother sobbed, crawled on the bed next to them and tucked his head under his arm so that he was holding both of them now.

“SangSang is— is crying.” He sniffled against him.

“That’s not an answer, Didi. You don’t have to do what SangSang does.”

“SangSang makes me sad.”

He wished he had listened to his father that day, maybe all of that wouldn’t have happened, maybe it would have gone differently at least.

Maybe. But it was late now.

They once had been friends. They studied together in Gusu and Qishan, they trained together, hunted together. They spent nights getting drunk and wandering aimlessly around the streets of whatever city they were in, Nie MingJue always sober and running after them before they could get themselves into trouble. They dreamed and shouted wishes at the night, starlit sky. They had been friends, and they had been happy.

Friendship ended in fire. Just like his father said.

The Lan Sect was, first and foremost, known for their rules. Secondarily for following a righteous path, pure and kind and gentle and true like the white robes they wore. Their rules had probably rules of their own, sub-rules, hidden things written so small on the wall that only a Lan could see it. Third, they never lied. It was against the rules, several of them, it was not proper to establish a good relationship with the other sects, and they were absolutely awful liars. Lan Xichen tried once with them, he almost fell for it, then he turned to MingJue who was staring at the young Lan Heir, a hand under his cheek, the elbow on the table and his head shaking just slightly, a fond smile playing on his lips.

“Don’t try that again, Xichen. Even a blind man could see it’s not true.”

Lan XiChen blushed and took a sip from his tea, their game not involving some Emperor’s Smile that time, not after Nie MingJue had to run after them in the middle of the night, way past curfew, around Cloud Recesses, and they kept running, blindly and drunk, in opposite directions.

Lans really couldn’t lie to save their lives but, he soon discovered, they could omit details and plans all too well, they were convincing, with their words falling like silver from their mouths, and their smiles never faltering making them appear completely innocent and honest. That was, in truth, lying but most people failed to see it through, too enchanted by their words.

He didn’t see it coming either, not until it was too late. By then he was burning.

Nightless city was on fire. Literally, with no exceptions.

"I don't want to!" his brother cried, clinging at his robes despite not being a child anymore. Wen Xu shook him off and pushed him toward a hidden passage with a Bag of important documents and papers they managed to save from the fire, history of their clan, rules they knew by heart but written by wen mao in person.

"but you will."

"brother!"

"take him somewhere safe, somewhere that will not fall." he said turning to wen zhuliu who simply nodded, he already had two places in mind, trying to decide which one would be safer for the second master, which one was less likely to fall before they reached it. He wanted to ask wen xu, but people could hear them. nothing was safe now in Nightless city, and they were alone.

"No! - wen chao screamed again. - no, come with us." he tried to reach out, his hand only brushing the sleeve of his older brother's robe before getting dragged away, his cries soon disappearing in the maze of underground corridors leading out of the city. He was in good hands, wen xu thought, gripping his sword and running to find their missing father, the best hands. More than once he trusted wen zhuliu with both his and his brother's life, his loyalty unmatched, just like his. Brother in Qinghe. Maybe Qinghe would be a good place to hide, the sect leader would definitely give them shelter and aid, he hated the Lans for years, ever since his father's ultimate demise. But perhaps Qinghe was also too obvious. The friendship once binding the three of them was not a secret. Perhaps Qinghe had already fallen.

He stopped short on the doors of the fire palace, he stared at the line of inner disciples, people he knew by name since childhood, people he trained with, hunted with, people with whom he joked around during long nights of drinking and games. Not just disciples, friends. They were kneeling in the ground, robes torn and burned, blades shattered before them, powerless, waiting to be justice by the man towering over them, smiling in his still pristine robes. Waiting.

"I was thinking you had ran away, a-xu."

Don't call me that. You have no right to call me that. He wanted to say, growl, instead he gripped his sword and took a step closer, and another, and another, until he was standing in front of his men despite their loud protests to stay back, to run. Despite them saying they would die before letting the young Master get wounded. Lan xichen laughed. Nothing compared to the sound he remembered from the long sleepless nights in Gusu. It was… Dark. It was a pretty obvious description but wen xu couldn't think of any other word, no matter how childish the description was.

"I'm glad you didn't. There is something I want to show you."

For a second, a long agonizing second, he feared he would take out a head from the sleeve pocket. His brother's head. Or his cousins' one. But it would have been too gruesome even for him, and in no way his robes would remain this white and clean. A banner then, his mind said in dread. Qinghe's banner.

Instead it was a little piece of, seemingly, rock, floating on his palm, pulsating with red energy.

"do you know what it is, right? - of course. Of course he did. Lan xichen smiled again and he swallowed. - well, of course you do. You have a piece too. Now, there are two ways this situation can work out. You hand over your yin iron willingly, - he smiled and walked closer. - and keep your life and your disciples lives. Or I kill them, one by one, then I kill you and take the yin iron from your still warm body. Your choice, little cousin."

He couldn't give it up, not now nor ever, not to him. His father entrusted him with the shard their clan hid ever since the great fight. Letting lan Xichen have the shard wouldn't only break his father's trust, but he would make the Lans way more dangerous than they already were and he could have that. How many more clans he would destroy? How many sects would fall under his power?

"xichen-ge…" he tried. Maybe he could still reason with him, maybe deep down it was still his friend, his almost brother.

"a-xu, a-xu… don't be silly. I have you a great option, to keep your life and your disciples lives. We know you're not that stupid to turn it down."

"I can't… Xichen-ge you know I can't…"

He almost said he didn't have it with himself, which was actually true, but that would make him change plans and go after the actual person in possess of the shard. - he trusted wen zhuliu with his life and his brother's life. He trusted him to get the yin iron out of nightless city and hide it somewhere. Possibly forever. He couldn't risk his life more than that. He had probably already condemned him anyway. -

"a-xu. - now his voice wasn't sweet and kind anymore, there was a not even hidden warning in his tone, dangerous, threatening. - you're forcing my hand here."

Something told him lan xichen wasn't waiting for an excuse, he was hoping he would refuse, just to have one more reason to fight. One more reason to kill them all.

He couldn't give him what he wanted, and even if he could he didn't want to. But he could fight. - he would lose. Wen xu was no fool, he knew lan xichen was stronger than him, but he could buy his brother a little longer. He could buy his father, wherever he was, a chance to escape, given he was still alive. He would die, and he wasn't scared of it. -

"no." he said, straightening his back and unsheathing his sword. He tried to look strong, unfazed by his threats, not a scared young man trying to distract him long enough for the others to save their lives. Lan xichen cocked his head and shook it slightly, his smile never faltering once, he didn't move, still as marble with the glowing shard hovering above his hand, waiting for wen xu to attack first and give him the only excuse he needed to strike back. It wouldn't take much once reached that point, his martial superiority was known to everyone. A fair fight would have been between lan xichen and nie mingjue, not between them. Wen xu hoped it would never get to that.

Lan xichen seemed distracted for a moment, he grabbed something in his hand and smiled again, pleased.

"seems like lotus Pier fell just now. - he said nonchalantly, like talking about the weather or the latest gossip running around lanling. He had never been one for gossip. - it's quite a blessing that the Wei boy has such a crush on wangji, he wouldn't deny him anything, not even his home. There is just one problem. Yunmeng has no yin iron. Qishan, on the other hand…"

He didn't care much for yunmeng in truth. He was familiar with the Jiang sect, sure, he was friends with Jiang Yanli and would never wish for her to be hurt, or worse, but the Jiang sect didn't raise a finger when the Lans began taking power. They didn't show support when nie zhenxiang was killed and his son became sect leader. On the contrary, both Jiang and jin sects tried to make moves on him, securing alliances through marriage. Hell! Jin guangshan even tried to offer himself to take care of the young leader and his brother, take them as wards as he rules over Qinghe until they're old enough. His father almost threw himself at the Jin sect leader, a white robe in striking contrast with the usual red and black ones of the wen clan, if anyone would be allowed to take care of the newly appointed nie leader that would be him, he said standing in front of nie mingjue who almost looked even smaller than usual, with being zhenxiang sworn brother and all.

"not that sect leader Nie needs someone to administer Qinghe in his stead. - he added and turned to look at him. - youth doesn't affect ability, and in these past months as acting leader he proved to be just as great as any of us."

There was a clear accent of pride in his voice, pride the first time wen xu had been jealous of before realizing, as they grew, that it was because mingjue had been the first. The first newborn his father ever held in his arms, the one he spoiled and kept spoiling even after having kids of his own. He stopped being jealous and started looking up to him.

Of course, imagining lotus Pier burning into ashes was something he never wished, no matter how useless and blind they acted. Heavens knew who would be next. "not Qinghe. Please, not Qinghe." he silently begged.

"but it seems like little a-xu doesn't want to cooperate. That's a real shame. You know…" he took a step closer and wen xu pulled the sword in front of himself. "I liked you. You were always my favorite. Mingjue-xiong is strong, sure but… He's too soft, don't you think? Always spoiling that little brother of his. You're not soft. I think I will give you one last option, because I'm in a good mood today."

Good mood? You stand in front of a city on fire. You killed dozens of disciples to get there. If that's a good mood, then---

"join me." he held out his hand and wen xu eyed him warily. "join me and qishan will be spared. No, not just spared. You'll have power."

Sure. Like they were going to share it.

It almost seemed like lan xichen believed he would accept, maybe he hoped, maybe deep down he wished he would accept.

Wen xu charged against him without giving him an answer, his action was enough already. Lan xichen didn't move until the last moment. His sword remained sheathed but from the yin iron shard came a light, red and hot, a wave that sent him tumbling back and falling on his knees. The shard pulsed again as he tried to raise and a new wave ran over him and the disciples forced on their knees. He screamed.

It wasn't a pain he was used to with sword fights, it wasn't a cut or even a slash, it came from inside. His body was lit on fire from the inside. For a moment he wondered if those wen zhuliu took the core from felt like that. Maybe it was, maybe it was similar to a qi deviation. Maybe the yin iron energy was triggering one in that moment.

It wasn't just pain. He felt his energy, his life force and his blood stream through his body and veins, like a constant rumble in his head that made it impossible to focus on anything else no matter how hard he would try. He tasted blood in his mouth, he saw his disciples fall on the ground, some still, some agonizing and screaming, some-- he saw blood. Blood drenching the streets of the nightless city, blood flowing into the flames, its smell mixing with the smoke and rising high to the sky.

A shiver ran through his back, he tried to use his sword to lift himself but his arms gave out and he fell with his face on the dirt.

Fire. Smoke. Blood. Screams.

The wens were born in fire, his father said. They stole the sunlight for the world to never be left in the darkness again. Or so was the tale told to kids as a bedtime story. It was only a tale in the end, his father said that fire couldn’t harm a true Wen. Either he wasn’t one or that was a lie, he didn’t care at that moment, he just wanted the pain to stop.

“Wen Xu.” Lan Xichen’s voice had lost all the sweetness he had; it was cold, unforgiving, he accepted no answer that wasn’t what he had in mind and he would not put his thoughts into words. His lips could say “Will you now join me?” - Or maybe he had just said that and Wen Xu didn’t realize, struggling to make out what was real and what not. - and the answer he wanted was “Of course I will follow you.”, no more, no less, exactly those words.

“No…” Wen Xu coughed, blood trickled down his chin and his vision faltered, Lan Xichen’s body swam out of focus for a moment, the world tilted and he was glad he was already on the ground, saving himself from another fall. He was going to die. For sure Lan Xichen was going to kill him, search him and the palace for the Yin Iron and, realizing it wasn't there and he had lost a lot of precious time he would hunt down his brother.

“Please… please be safe.” He thought, and night dawned on the Wen’s city.

Lan Xichen didn’t kill him in the end and that was already surprising enough. Perhaps he thought him dead, but he must have not checked for whatever reason, or he had been distracted by something else, got a message or something. Anyway Wen Xu woke up coughing blood and shivering, surrounded by bodies and almost dead fires. No Lans in sight, like they all left Nightless city to its now obvious fate. He couldn’t stay anyway, he had to get out, get somewhere safe and find his brother and their father before it was too late hoping beyond hope that it wasn't already too late.

He felt his stomach churn as he forced his body to move, bile and blood rising to his mouth, everything hurt even where he can’t find any physical wound. Still he forced himself to move, slowly walk out of the city, away from the some and the blood and the smell of burnt flesh of people he once knew. He dragged his feet for hours, through the night and the following day, his strength too unstable to even dare to fly on his sword, the thought of enemies around every corner forbidding him to stop and take a well deserved rest. He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t sit down on the root of a tree in a hidden path and close his eyes a moment. He couldn’t even try to stop the bleeding without risking losing consciousness on the spot. He could only move. Keep moving. Move forward until his weary feet crossed the borders of Qinghe. But he still couldn’t rest, not before reaching the Unclean Realm. He would be safe there, his older cousin would give him shelter, perhaps he already did it for his brother and Wen Zhuliu,. Perhaps he would get there and find them safely inside the tall walls. The Unclean Realm couldn’t fall, not to strength or convincing words. Unbending like the steel of their sabers.

The first time he saw the walls around the Unclean Realm Wen Xu was five and thought it was the most terrifying high walls ever. Everything was in dark gray and black colors, walls, doors, the robes of the soldiers keeping watch. Even the Sect Leader and his older son wore gray robes. Over the years, as he grew older and closer to Nie MingJue he began appreciating the hidden colors of the Nie Sect. Nie MingJue still wore dark gray, but there his inner robe was a pale, creamy white, something he would later see Nie Huaisang wear all the time, there were accents of silver on his outer robe, on the hems of the sleeves and the collar, silver for the sewing thread used in most of his clothes. Wen Xu had always been exceptionally fond of a light, almost transparent dark gray robe MingJue sometimes wore during official meetings and celebration. It made him look almost regal. There was also some gold, on the belt and the tassel hanging from his fan and from Baxia sheath, they said gold was his mother’s color. - he had a hairpin in the shape of a sun with a red stone, a symbol, Wen Xu recognized immediately, of the Wen Sect. When he asked when he got it, and from who Nie MingJue shook his head, finger brushing over the hairpin. “I have it with me since I remember.” He admitted, he later found out it had been the gift his father gave him for his birth, as a sign of his brotherhood with Nie ZhēnXiàng and as soon as MingJue was old enough, and his hair long enough, his father put it on. -

The Unclean Realm was much warmer than what his walls would give away and for Wen Xu that warmth meant safety. He dragged his feet weakly through the streets, he leaned on the walls of nearby houses and only stopped to cough in his hand. Blood trickled from his mouth, it pooled under his feet when he stopped, drenched the red robes and left a trail behind him as he walked. Wounds began to split open as he moved, like the energy that hit him and threatened to destroy his body from inside was slowly making his way out, cutting his chest to get out. The fire was gone, he felt cold, shivering and freezing; he felt numb, his limbs weak and heavy as he dragged himself closer and closer to safety, forcing his body not to stop moving.

There were voices, suddenly, voices close, familiar ones, they called his name, they screamed, demanded to know what happened. He couldn’t place the voices, or was it only one?, he couldn’t find the strength to answer, he looked up, eyes half closed and unfocused, his body trembling so much he felt like he was going to tumble over at any moment if he dared to take one more step, there was a translucent robe entering his line of view, a familiar one. Safe. His mind said at the blurred sight, and that was the last thing Wen Xu remembered. He fell into strong arms and finally stopped.

Qinghe winter nights were long. People living there got used to it after the first years, they got used to waking up in the early morning before the sun was fully up, they got used to seeing it go down as they were still working and returned to their homes in the light of thousands of lanterns. Some people carried their personal lanterns, some were classic, a candle in a metal cage with paper around it to protect it from the wind, others were fancier lanterns in silk, they all had the same purpose of lighting the way home. Nie MingJue had a metal cage colored in gold, the paper had some birds and flowers inked on it by Huaisang, in the perfect light the bird’s eye shone gold, nie MingJue knew he did it on purpose and couldn’t help but love the lantern, he used it to move around the palace at night, like in that moment.

He opened the door just enough to get inside and closed it behind himself before any wind could get in. Winter nights were cold just as much as they were long.

The young man on the bed didn’t move, he slept peacefully through the days and the nights, the healer said his body was recovering slowly, the yin energy caused more damage than what it looked like and his qi was struggling to balance itself.

“You’re telling me he had an induced qi deviation?”

“Sect Leader, I wouldn’t put it in those exact terms, but the symptoms are similar to a deviation, yes.”

“Induced one it is, then.” He decided, because there was no other explanation.

He sat by the bed, vigil and awake, waiting for a change that in three days didn’t come. He too had his small knowledge of healing, many years before, almost a lifetime before, he had begged Lan Qiren to teach him when the Nie healers said it wasn't a knowledge he should lose time on. Master Lan on the other hand taught him to heal wounds, to share his energy and to stabilize the qi. It wasn’t much but it probably saved his life many times already. What he didn’t know was how to stabilize it when a source of Yin energy was rejecting it, there was no one that could teach him, no one that could help. So he waited and kept watch.

“You need to rest Da-ge.” Huaisang said, slipping in the room when noticing the light still on.

“I’m resting.” His voice betrayed him, he stifled a yawn and closed the heavier robe in front of himself.

“It doesn't look like it. You snapped at ZongHui today.”

Yes, he did, he thought guiltily, he also went to apologize after the meeting was officially over; he knelt in front of his chamber and bowed, he said he was sorry, asked for his forgiveness and that it had been improper and unfair for him, as a sect Leader, to behave in such manner. ZongHui sounded almost surprised, not even angry at him. He understood his worry, perhaps better than most people, he shared that same worry, and the rest too.

“If you’re not angry… - Nie MingJue sounded uncertain, still kneeling in front of him until Nie ZongHui forced him on his knees if MingJue didn’t want him to kneel too. - then why did you get out of the council room that fast?”

“You asked me to check on our prisoner, didn’t you? I thought you meant in that moment.”

“Oh…”

“He still doesn’t want to talk.” Nie ZongHui had said.

“I know, Huaisang. - MingJue said to his brother, shaking away the memory of his voice rising to his most trusted man. - And I apologized already. You should be in bed already, or you’ll be late for training again, tomorrow.”

“Da-geeeee…” he complained pouting as he slipped out of the room.” “You go to bed too! Or you’ll fall asleep during training!”

He knew, it wouldn't be the first time either, but he couldn't simply leave wen xu and go sleep, not after--

The truth was wen xu reminded him of father. Nie huaisang was too young at the time, he remembered the shock and the pain of losing him, but not the long, restless nights spent awake, waiting for him to get better, waiting as his qi destroyed his own body. Healers said it was different, small details making it different, wen xu wasn't going to succumb to a massive qi deviation, probably. Still nie mingjue sat by his bed and waited.

It was after a week that the wen heir woke up, dazed, looking at his surroundings until his eyes settled on the person dozing off next to the bed. He didn't feel rested, he felt like he could sleep one week more, but he also didn't feel his body threatening to split at any moment.

"you're awake." there was a little surprise in the voice, there was sleep he tried to brush off, a hand holding his and a worried, yet relieved look on MingJue's face. Yes, he was awake. Alive. Safe.

"my brother…?" he asked, voice raspy, his throat hurting. Nie mingjue shook his head, he wasn't there, wen xu hoped he still managed to reach a safe place.

"think of getting better yourself, you almost died." he said. "I'll send my spies to look for him." wen xu nodded, not thinking much of his words and fell asleep.

The next time he woke up he felt better, more awake, more focused. Nie mingjue was still there.

"you don't have spies." he stated as a greeting. He had never heard of spies in the Nie sect. They were known for strength, for heavy sabers and direct battles, spies were more something his sect had, or the Jin sect.

"No, I don't. - nie mingjue agreed with a chuckle. - I have only one spy and it's my own man."

As if on clue, a shadow appeared outside the door, kneeling and silently asking permission to enter, granted by a quick gesture of MingJue's hand.

"I found them."

The man was familiar, wen xu was sure he met him before but he couldn't remember the name, or where he met him. It wasn't important.

"my brother?"

"and zhuliu." the man nodded. The next thing wen xu noticed, when dropping his head with a relieved sigh, was the man's shadow. It was… Weird. It was long, stretched in a way that was impossible in that light, almost like it was checking outside. He blinked, thinking it was a trick of the light or due to his tiredness.

"can you bring them here safely?"

The man bowed and his shadow stretched more, before he turned to leave.

"what-- who is he?"

Wen xu finally dared to ask.

"nie zonghui. My spy." mingjue said with a little smile. "he comes from the Zhao clan, you're familiar with it, right?"

The name was familiar. Zhao… Zhao….

"zhuliu came from the Zhao clan… I thought he was the last survivor."

Nie mingjue sat with his back against the bed.

"they're brothers from what I know. The clan wasn't known for they're high cultivation, but every generation had a member with a particular, unnatural ability. In our generation there have been two."

"and the destruction of the clan when zhuliu lost control over it. What is zonghui?"

"a shadow. - well, that was obvious enough given how silent he appeared and how his own shadow acted on his own but… - they're twins and their parents were too so proud that zhuliu developed such strong ability, despite its danger, that they wanted to keep him safe. So they made his twin his shadow. He had to protect him from everything and everyone. Zonghui said that when he was 10 and his brother's power went rogue his own ability got triggered and he merged with the darkness to save himself. He lived as such for a couple of years before learning how to free himself, and then they took separate ways."

"he literally became his shadow…" wen xu said, almost sadly. "that's why sometimes zhuliu looks back at his shadow despite them not being together. But… but zhuliu never mentioned a brother, even less a twin."

"Zonghui left in the night, without a goodbye. Like a shadow. That's when I found him, hiding on the walls of the palace. He looked cold and uncomfortable so I took him in."

Wen xu stifled a laugh, people said the Nie brothers were nothing alike, but they were wrong. They both were way too keen on taking in strays, be it little birds like huaisang did or people, like mingjue did more time than people knew. Zonghui hadn't been the first one, and he probably wasn't the last either. - he was taking them in too, when most sects would ignore them in fear the lan would come after them. -

"you're lucky to have someone like him." he commented, laying on his side, a hand playing softly over nie MingJue's hair like so many times before, they were close enough to let themselves be seen at their weakest point without fear, close enough to let the other touch them. - wen xu prided himself of having been the first person to have sect leader Nie under his hands, completely at his mercy, to have him beg for one touch more. It had been one night only, they knew they wouldn't work in the long run, but nothing could stop them from trying. Despite the two years Mingjue had more than him, Wen Xu immediately realized he never let anyone close. Not that close. For a moment he wondered if he still was like he remembered, melting like snow in the sun in the care of someone he trusted and loved. - "it looks like he belongs to you, from the way he was bowing."

"the way he was… - nie mingjue laughed lightly and cocked his head to look at him. - are you sure you're not referring to the mark you keep touching now? Always so subtle, xu'er. Subtle indeed."

They slipped back in a familiar banter as they waited, knowing, both of them, that this was the only way they wouldn't fall apart in the dawn of a war.

It took three days for ZongHui to return, while he could move easily and fast through the shadows he couldn’t bring anyone with himself. Wen Xu woke up with a sudden movement of the mattress, like someone had joined him, he opened his eyes to the sight of his little brother hugging his neck like life depended on that, desperately grasping at his robes and hiding against his shoulder. As soon as he realized who it was his arms flew to hold him just as tight before grabbing Wen Zhuliu, silently waiting beside the bed, and bringing him down in a hug.

“Let’s leave them be. - Nie MingJue said, a hand resting over ZongHui’s neck. - You traveled far and spent enough energy. Come rest.” He di9don’t complain, letting MingJue lead the way, for once.

The Wens never spent more than a week in the Unclean Realm before, usually during cultivation conferences or meeting his father had with the Sect Leader, both MingJue and his late father. Now, despite wishing to return to Qishan and help rebuild it, despite wanting to search for their father, they stayed in Qinghe, if possible the safest place. The Lans could easily get them there, it was true, they could come, both Twin Jades, and destroy everything on their path, but Lan Qiren wasn’t stupid, and neither were his nephews. A direct attack on Qinghe would mean an instant war, and even they, with their seemingly unstoppable army of puppets, couldn’t hope to win without proper preparations.

Lanling, they got notice of, had been quick to bow to the new master of their lands, giving them up in fear masked by an obviously fake alliance. Not even someone like Jin GuangShan could really believe Lan Qiren words of keeping them safe would hold as soon as someone spoke ill of them.

Qinghe still had a little advantage. If the Lans dared to attack the prisoner they had would be delivered to them instantly. In pieces.

What surprised more Wen Xu was how unafraid Nie MingJue looked when speaking of threats and possibilities, when he planned for the oncoming war, be it in a month or a year. The soft young man he knew once had totally been absorbed by the hate for those he considered part of his family in their youth, and Wen Xu couldn’t blame him. His people, his disciples always swore to follow him, to advance and retreat with him, no matter what lay ahead or behind them. He almost wished he could inspire his people with the same loyalty one day, one very distant day, because in no way his father was dead, in no way he would become Sect Leader right before a war, he didn’t even know where to start. And as he watched and dreamed to be like him he saw the cracks stretch bigger and deeper. When the world was turned and people weren’t looking at Nie MingJue he saw the cracks appear. One by one he saw them stretch larger, threatening to destroy him before the time, threatening to swallow him.

“Do you think it exist, a different way?”

He joined him one night when he noticed him sitting on the stairs of the silent training ground.

“A different way for what?”

“Stop them. To avoid a war. Do you think—”

“No.” And his voice broke, because deep down, Wen Xu knew he wished too to find a different way, buried deep beneath rage and grief and desire to protect. “We knew war would come for us the day Master Lan found the Yin Iron, we just turned a blind eye on that until he arrived in our gardens and trampled on everything on his path.”

“But maybe… What if we destroy the Yin Iron?”

Nie MingJue turned, he looked at him, pained, before standing and crossing his arms over the chest, pulling the robe so that it closed on the front, protecting him from the cold.

“I don’t know. - He admitted and Wen Xu looked up. - I don’t know what would happen, I don’t know what will happen the day we’ll move. But I know it will end in war and people will die.”

Wen Xu didn’t want a war. He had been trained, of course, he knew how to fight, and he knew how to survive. He had people he wanted to protect and that was enough to convince him, but he had never been on a real battlefield, he never had to look at his men in the eyes, the few that survived the burnt, and led them into battle. Her would, of course, because it was the only thing to do, right rot wrong meant little when fighting for survival, but he would carry the guilt and the weight of every man he would lose. Nie MingJue seemed to read his thoughts as clear as he had spoken them.

“Maybe there is another way, and maybe that way would work, - Wen Xu looked back at him, suddenly hopeful. - But I will take the higher risk in a battle so that you, and our brothers, won’t have to fight one later.” “Because I will not survive this one.” He thought.

In the end war came. In the end the four Sects came together against the Lans. In the end Wen Xu felt no shame in admitting how scared, absolutely terrified, he felt even when standing side by side to Nie MingJue. In the end he curled up on Nie MingJue one night, their fingers intertwined and held tight in fear of having the other disappear. In the end, when morning came, Wen Xu woke up to an empty bed.

In the end there was blood running down the white stones of Cloud Recesses as he ran as fast as he could until he reached a small pavilion surrounded by absolute silence and a red, pulsing light; Nie MingJue's body, bloody and battered, laid slumped against the wall. At the sound of his footsteps stopping Lan Xichen turned, eyes flashing red and blood smeared on his smiling lips, a hand holding Nie MingJue’s face up, fingers clawing in his skin.

“You arrived just in time. - He said, voice low, never looking away, almost freezing Wen Xu in place. He wasn’t scared. He couldn’t be scared. Not now. Not when it mattered. - Will you join me, now?”

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