#and what's nicer than er-ge
Text
It's a-Yao's birthday! He deserves to marry the most handsome young master of the Cultivation world.
#jin guangyao#lan xichen#meng yao#xiyao#mdzs#mo dao zu shi#the untamed#cql#mdzs fanart#so the gusu lan a-Yao AU living rent free in my head is starting to leak#he deserves all the nice things#and what's nicer than er-ge
284 notes
·
View notes
Text
Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5
- Chapter 6 -
It was strange, Lan Wangji reflected, to be in public again after so long an absence. Stranger still to be addressed by strangers, to be called the Second Jade of Lan, or Lan-er-gongzi –
He wished that they would use his personal title instead. It might reduce the awkwardness.
Though, he reflected, it was likely that nothing would really reduce the awkwardness inherent in the situation, for all its old nostalgic familiarity: his brother walking in the lead, he and his uncle one step behind him, the representatives of the Lan sect in all their glory, beauty, and righteousness.
Looking at their tranquil expressions and sedate pace, one would never know that Lan Qiren was still furiously angry at Lan Wangji for his decision to abandon his sect and family, now made several times over; that Lan Wangji had been shockingly disrespectful by Lan standards in his response; that Lan Xichen had ordered that neither of them were permitted to speak until they could behave civilly (he’d used the term “like human beings”) once again.
It had been a very quiet journey to Koi Tower.
Luckily, even once they arrived, their customary reserve meant that no one noticed the tensions between them – not even the normally astute Lianfeng-zun, who greeted them at the door, much less his father and brother, and certainly not Chifeng-zun, who was listening to another sect leader speak with the stiff and stern expression that, after several years of keeping company with Jiang Cheng, Lan Wangji now recognized as please stop talking to me.
(Lan Wangji briefly considered that he ought to suggest that Jiang Cheng spend more time with Chifeng-zun. They shared a history as young men who assumed control over their sects too soon as a result of the same enemy, and he knew Jiang Cheng highly esteemed Chifeng-zun – but then he rejected the idea as unnecessary and likely full of potential political pitfalls, especially given the Jiang sect’s role in the Jin sect’s current one-sided rivalry with the Nie sect.
As the Second Jade of Lan, he didn’t need to worry about political concerns, or at least not those beyond the basic premise of ‘don’t lose face for the sect’. His uncle and brother handled everything of that nature, just as they always had, holding up the sky for him and allowing him to focus on cultivation and his own interests, only he had been Jiang Cheng’s secret sounding board for too long now to fail to think of the potential problems anyway.
He found to his surprise that he missed it.)
Jiang Cheng would have noticed the tension, but he had yet to arrive – they had agreed that it would make everything easier if he would arrive to the gathering a little late, minimizing the amount of chatter they would need to endure about the two of them before the formal events began.
This would be Lan Wangji’s first discussion conference after having “left seclusion”, as people were calling it – his uncle with notably more sarcasm than usual – and the first test of his new public relationship with Jiang Cheng. They’d settled the public fight aspect with some degree of enjoyment, having a spar that extended throughout the rooftops and alleyways of the Lotus Pier, matching Bichen again Sandu and Wangji against Zidian, and the rumors had run wild ever since then. Finally, Jin Guangyao had intervened in his father’s name to “force” the compromise they’d all agreed upon: that Lan Sizhui would fall under Lan Wangji’s personal supervision, as was his right as the (assumed) father, but that he would remain at the Lotus Pier for most of the year to avoid a sudden and traumatic readjustment.
That this coincidentally would result in Lan Wangji spending most of his time at the Lotus Pier had largely passed unnoticed. Most people were far, far too busy gossiping about Lan Wangji’s mysterious Jiang sect wife, each one adding new salacious details atop the other. Some of the nonsense he’d heard…!
At least, he comforted himself, none of them would be rude enough to actually ask him about it directly.
“Lan-er-gongzi!” a voice called, and Lan Wangji would have stiffened if his back hadn’t already been straighter than a board. His uncle coughed and stroked his beard to conceal his expression of amusement – he probably thought that having to deal with Nie Huaisang, inveterate gossip and useless person extraordinaire, was exactly what Lan Wangji deserved.
He was probably right, too. Lan Wangji had brought this on his own head.
“Nie-gongzi,” he said, very reluctantly, as the Second Young Master of Qinghe Nie showed up with a feckless smile, promptly clutching at his arm and insisting that they go catch up and indulge in nostalgia about their shared school days.
Which ones, Lan Wangji wasn’t sure – Nie Huaisang had attended his uncle’s classes three times over before passing, and whether or not that final pass had been fairly earned or whether his uncle had simply yielded to his desire never to see Nie Huaisang’s face in his classroom ever again, Lan Wangji remained unsure.
Still, it suited him not to be forced to make nice with all those sect leaders pretending that they weren’t gawking at him, and so he permitted Nie Huaisang to drag him off to some unoccupied garden he had somehow managed to uncover, the other man chattering in his ear like a magpie the entire time.
“ – supposed I really should call you Hanguang-jun now, but that just seems so formal, though at least I remember it. I barely remember anyone’s title. Though now that my big brother’s sworn brotherhood with your big brother, I could probably just get away with calling you Wangji-gege –”
“No.”
“You’re so mean!” Nie Huaisang wailed. “Aren’t we old friends?”
“No.”
“Well, we’re close enough to count, anyway,” Nie Huaisang said. “Jiang Cheng’s my friend as well, you know; you can’t keep him to yourself just because you’re angry at your family! That’s just selfish. Aren’t there Lan sect rules against being selfish? I assume so, though I admit I’ve forgotten more of them than I’ve learned…don’t tell your uncle that, I’m afraid he’ll revoke my sympathy pass.”
Lan Wangji reflected briefly that it was good that Nie Huaisang was self-aware enough to recognize that the pass mark had likely been given out of sympathy rather than for merit, but then returned to the more critical point of what Nie Huaisang had said.
“Why do you think I’m angry at my family?” he asked. And what was that about Jiang Cheng?
It was critical that Sect Leader Jin, among others, not suspect that Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng shared a closer relationship than apparent – even Jin Guangyao had agreed with that – and if they had been sussed out so quickly, and by Nie Huaisang…
Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him. “You may be an unreadable stone wall, my – er, acquaintance, but do you really think I can’t tell when your uncle is upset? Me, of all people?”
This was a good point.
“And if your uncle’s upset at you, again, of all people, and you haven’t apologized or made up to him yet, that means you’re the one that’s angry,” Nie Huaisang concluded. “And anyway, why else would you agree to stay for so long at the Lotus Pier if you weren’t angry? You and Jiang Cheng must drive each other up the walls.”
Lan Wangji relaxed minutely. That was a reasonable explanation.
A moment later, he tensed up again – he was abruptly convinced, albeit without any logical basis, that the explanation was too reasonable, meant to put him at ease, designed to allow him to move on with the conversation without thinking too much or questioning too deeply. No one else had put the facts together the way Nie Huaisang had, and, most notably, Nie Huaisang hadn’t yet asked a single question about Lan Sizhui, who was, without making an appearance, the main subject matter of the day.
But then, a moment after that, he relaxed again, somewhat unwillingly – this was Nie Huaisang, who’d been born useless, grown up useless, and remained useless. It was a little absurd to suspect him of having figured out something that had duped the entire rest of the cultivation world.
As Nie Huaisang said – of all people…
“What do you want?” he asked, shaking his head a little to try to clear it. It must be the oppressive atmosphere of Koi Tower, gilded and rotten, that was affecting his thoughts.
“What do I always want?” Nie Huaisang asked philosophically, and then helpfully answered his own question: “Attention.”
Lan Wangji was starting to remember why he’d avoided Nie Huaisang so thoroughly in their youth.
“I’m not telling you anything about Sizhui,” he said.
Nie Huaisang pouted at him. He was still clinging to Lan Wangji’s arm, and Lan Wangji wondered whether it would count as ‘losing the sect face’ if he threw him out a window.
(He wished Jiang Cheng were around so that he could mention the thought to him - he suspected it would make the other man turn purple with suppressed laughter, and probably get some sort of comment about it being the only sort of flying Nie Huaisang could manage, with or without a blade.)
“Fine,” Nie Huaisang said sulkily. “Turns out you’re still no fun, even after all these years. I’ll have you know, Jiang Cheng’s a lot nicer than you. He appreciates all the things I bring to the table.”
Lan Wangji seriously doubted it – unless perhaps if Nie Huaisang was speaking literally, referring to fine foods and liquor – but his mood improved a bit nonetheless at the compliment. Given the Jiang sect’s relatively isolated political position, with all the smaller sects looking at it hungrily, just waiting for it to trip up and give them a chance to snatch away the title of being the fourth Great Sect, it was only good that the second young master of Qinghe Nie had a positive impression of the ever-prickly Jiang Cheng.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Nie Huaisang said, and dug something out of his sleeve. “Give this back to er-ge for me, will you?”
Lan Wangji stared blankly. “His passage token for Koi Tower?”
He had planned to ask his brother later if he could borrow it – perhaps not that night, since it was the first day of the discussion conference and he suspected his brother would want to visit with his sworn brothers, but in the next day or two. That was the only reason he had agreed to go to Koi Tower at all, agreed to visit Lanling at all: so that he might try to steal away at some opportune moment to visit Mo Xuanyu unattended, before anyone noticed where he’d gone, and talk to him about the request for safe harbor that he had made of Jiang Cheng.
Lan Wangji had still been thinking over how he would phrase the request for the token without giving away his suspicions of the boy’s mistreatment, which his brother would likely take as a slight against Jin Guangyao even though it was fairly obvious to everyone that Sect Leader Jin was keeping Mo Xuanyu as a weapon against Jin Guangyao. He hadn’t yet managed to think of a way to do it.
And now – how had the token ended up here, in Nie Huaisang’s hands?
“Well, yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “I wanted to talk to you privately, without everyone eavesdropping, so I asked him for it. Da-ge never lets me use his, he says I’m a menace to both people and property, and for some reason san-ge never lets me take his. Probably because he’s always so busy all the time.”
That sounded – very much like all three of them, in fact. Nie Mingjue, bluntly refusing; Jin Guangyao, politely eliding; his brother, yielding in utter capitulation to the first bit of begging, confident enough in his own righteous reputation to not worry about the consequences…
An idea appeared in Lan Wangji’s mind.
It was not the sort of idea that might naturally come to a member of the Lan sect. Perhaps his uncle was right in saying that he’d been lingering at the Lotus Pier for too long.
“Nie-gongzi,” Lan Wangji said, looking at the token. “You are right.”
“I…what?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “Are you getting sick, Lan-er-gongzi? I’m never right.”
“I am angry at my family,” Lan Wangji continued, deciding to ignore him. He did not specify why he was angry – let Nie Huaisang assume, as everyone else assumed, that it was because they had not retrieved Lan Sizhui earlier, and for sticking him with the ‘compromise’ of having to stay at the Lotus Pier, no matter how far that was from the truth. “I have not had the opportunity to vent my feelings.”
Nie Huaisang blinked at him. “You…vent feelings?” he said, sounding doubtful, but a moment later he brightened, as Lan Wangji had expected he would. “We could play a prank on somebody! That always makes me feel better – something petty and ridiculous, so that they won’t get really angry, but still know that you’re upset.”
Lan Wangji nodded.
Nie Huaisang appeared somewhat dazed by his agreement. “We could do so many things,” he marveled. “I mean, the possibilities are countless. We could throw paint at something, we could put water on top of a door, we could…”
“I do not want to be publicly associated with it,” Lan Wangji said.
Nie Huaisang pouted, but tapped his fan against his cheek, thinking. “That makes things harder, but not impossible, I suppose…oh, I know! Why don’t we pretend that you’re your brother? You two look like peas in a pod, but for the color of your eyes and your expressions – if I’m hanging around and calling you er-ge and no one looks too closely, they would have no idea it was you involved.”
That was precisely the idea Lan Wangji had hit upon, and the one that he had hoped to lead Nie Huaisang towards suggesting. He had gotten to the point much quicker than Lan Wangji had thought he would; it seemed, useless as he might be, Nie Huaisang was still apparently capable of accepting at least some guidance.
(Unless perhaps...but no. It was Nie Huaisang.)
“This evening?” he suggested, and Nie Huaisang nodded.
“That’ll give me time to think of a proper prank,” he said happily. It was as if he’d never encountered a care in his life, Sunshot Campaign or no. “Don’t you worry, Wangji-gege! Leave it all to me!”
Lan Wangji returned to the main hall, the token tucked into his sleeve, and said nothing when his older brother smiled at him, faintly apologetic, nor when his uncle turned his face away from him. By that point, Jiang Cheng had arrived, scowling as usual, and he was mingling, speaking with the smaller sect leaders with a stiff and stern expression that said please don’t talk to me – Lan Wangji really would have to see about convincing him to invite Chifeng-zun to the Lotus Pier, politics or no politics – and he and Lan Wangji stared at each other briefly before turning away from each other, whispers sprouting up around them like grass.
Why must we put up with people? Jiang Cheng’s expression eloquently conveyed, and Lan Wangji didn’t disagree in the slightest. Life was so much easier in his little room back at the Lotus Pier, where he could shut the door and not let in the world – sometimes he wondered if all of this was really worth it.
Later that evening, he was reminded that it was.
Mo Xuanyu had been invited to the opening ceremonies, sitting in the main row with the important people of the Jin sect – directly beside Jin Guangyao, as if everyone didn’t know his purpose already – but he hadn’t spoken at all, keeping his face down and demeanor as withdrawn as possible. Sect Leader Jin had found an opportunity to praise him for his humility and obedience, and even Lan Wangji, who did not like Jin Guangyao, was indignant on the man’s behalf in the face of such obvious humiliation.
Etiquette dictated that no one could intervene in another man’s family affairs, but Chifeng-zun had rather loudly remarked to Lan Xichen – as if only just remembering – that it must be good to have his brother (subtext: notable for being humble and obedient) out of seclusion at last, inquiring as to whether Lan Wangji was planning on attending any night-hunts in the near future and, if so, whether he would be bringing his son, for whom he cared so deeply, along.
Lan Wangji was accustomed to being the other person’s child, held up as a positive comparison to the annoyance of the person being compared, and it took Jiang Cheng’s eyes crinkling with barely concealed laughter for him to realize that the person he was being compared favorably against this time was Jin Guangshan, absent father extraordinaire, and not poor Mo Xuanyu.
Later, when his brother slipped away to meet with his sworn brothers, as Lan Wangji expected, and Jiang Cheng was gone reluctantly to take Jin Ling to visit with his grandfather, Lan Wangji headed out with Nie Huaisang, who had come up with some prank involving feathers and glue that Lan Wangji wanted nothing to do with.
“But it would be funny,” Nie Huaisang argued.
Lan Wangji blamed Jiang Cheng for the fact that he even considered it.
“We can simply walk around in the guise we agreed,” he finally said, banishing that unhelpful part of him that loved chaos a little too much – the Wei Wuxian part, perhaps. “That will be confusing enough.”
“Oh, all right,” Nie Huaisang said. “But the feathers are hidden in the linen closet off the main guest hallway if you change your mind.”
With Nie Huaisang complaisant, it was easy enough to gradually make their way through Koi Tower, seeming to stroll without any apparent goal but in fact edging closer to Lan Wangji’s destination: the Jin family quarters.
“Wangji-gege – oops, I mean, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said after he had exhausted at least three other pointless topics. “Why don’t you trust me?”
Lan Wangji looked at him, surprised by the question.
Nie Huaisang was pouting. “You clearly have a goal,” he said. “I know I’m not much, you know, but I’m not nothing. I could still help. If you wanted.”
Lan Wangji opened his mouth to refuse on instinct – the idea that Nie Huaisang could be helpful to him in any way seemed utterly absurd, utterly impossible – but then he paused.
Attempt the impossible, he reminded himself. After all, was it really so long ago that he himself had done what he had never dreamt he could do and chosen to leave his sect behind?
For a life at the Lotus Pier with Jiang Cheng, no less?
Maybe even Nie Huaisang could overturn expectations.
“I want to speak with Mo Xuanyu,” he finally said. “And, if he is unhappy, remove him from Koi Tower. Is that something in which you think you can assist me?”
Nie Huaisang blinked at him, just once – he did not appear nearly as surprised by the request as Lan Wangji thought he probably should be – and then smiled.
196 notes
·
View notes
Note
5, 29 or 43 for nhs/su she?
Guess it can count very vaguely as 29 Being in denial about them actually being in love with them./ 43 Taking s/o to meet parents.
"I don't think your plan is working," Su She remarked.
Nie Huaisang, who'd started to fall asleep, hummed to signal he had no idea what that was about. He was very comfortably laying in the grass, his head on Su She's lap while the other boy read some boring Lan book for his lessons, and actually talking would have demanded more effort than Nie Huaisang was willing to expand.
"I don't think Lan er-gongzi has even noticed that you're trying to get him jealous," Su She clarified. "He didn't even see us kissing earlier, and we were right there."
"Hm. Wei-xiong managed to get himself kicked out," Nie Huaisang yawned, before breaking into a small grin. It had been a very nice kiss. "I think Wangji is going to mope around for a while, now that he's lost his favourite nemesis."
Su She tensed, enough so that it made him uncomfortable for use as a pillow.
"What now?" Nie Huaisang asked, sitting up.
"Will you change your plan, now that Lan er-gonzi is going to be free again?"
Nie Huaisang shrugged, and stretched lazily. "I don't think he's free as such. He's got it bad, about Wei-xiong."
"Then he's stupid. That Wei Wuxian has nothing on you. Well, not when it comes to looks anyway."
“That’s very sweet of you,” Nie Huaisang said, earning a scoff. “It is! Most people would say I don’t even have looks on my side.”
“Most people are stupid,” Su She sneered.
Again Nie Huaisang stretched, slow and lazy, taking the chance to nuzzle at Su She’s thigh, before reluctantly sitting up. He opened his fan, and took a long, good look at the other boy, that poor Lan disciple he’d somehow dragged into his crazy plan in a desperate effort to catch Lan Wangji’s attention. Back when the school year had started, Nie Huaisang had nearly cried over the unfairness of discovering Lan Wangji too liked boys, but only because he’d noticed how his crush looked at Wei Wuxian.
…
Fine. He had actually cried, a lot, frequently, and preferably in places where Lan Wangji should have seen it, but apparently crying in public wasn’t actually forbidden. Not that it mattered, because all of a sudden, Lan Wangji dropped his other duties and only supervised the punishment of one Wei Wuxian, who was too stupid to even realise how lucky he was, and…
And then Nie Huaisang had found himself crying again, but in a more secluded place, because those had been true, honest tears that made his face all blotchy and his nose all runny. It was in this horrible state of ugliness that Su She had found him. The older boy had been concerned at first, but only until he’d realised this whole thing was about Lan Wangji, at which point he’d called Nie Huaisang an idiot for being so indirect about his crush.
A comment he’d regretted when Nie Huaisang had dried his tears and impulsively asked Su She to help him make Lan Wangji jealous. Nie Huaisang had ended up basically paying the other boy to help him, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that Su She had agreed, and the plan had been set in motion.
It had been, Nie Huaisang liked to think, a great plan.
But two months had passed, the situation had changed, and the plan just wasn’t right anymore.
It was time for a new plan, and that one was absolutely going to work.
“Su-xiong, I have an idea,” Nie Huaisang announced, closing his fan.
“A good idea?” Su She asked, sounding far too suspicious, really.
“Of course. All my ideas are great.”
Su She gave him a look. Nie Huaisang stuck his tongue out at him.
“My ideas are great, you’re just too indoctrinated by the Lans,” he insisted, poking at Su She’s shoulder with his fan. “Anyway, you’re right, making Wangji jealous isn’t working, so I’m dropping that idea.”
Something immediately hardened in Su She’s face, the older boy’s hand clenching hard enough his knuckles turned as white as his robes. Nie Huaisang had to reopen his fan to hide a smile, pleased with that reaction. He’d suspected already, but it was nice to have it confirmed. After all, Su She didn’t kiss like someone who was just paid to do it, and always let him get away with so much even when there was no one to see, and would pet his hair sometimes, and…
Well, Nie Huaisang was only mildly stupid, no matter what his teachers thought.
“Su-xiong, when the school year is over, do you mind if I ask teacher Lan to let you travel with me to the Unclean Realm?" Nie Huaisang asked, startling the other boy.
"What for?" Su She asked, again with far too much suspicion, especially when he was always complaining that he wished he could leave the Cloud Recesses more.
Nie Huaisang started fanning himself with affected nonchalance.
"I've just written so much about you this year, so da-ge wants to meet you.” Seeing Su She startle, Nie Huaisang laughed. “Oh, don't worry! He's nicer than what people say! And I like you, so he'll like you too."
“You like me?”
Nie Huaisang’s fan stilled as he shot the other boy a surprised look. Su She was always confident, disdainful even, for which he sometimes got in trouble with other members of the Lan sect. But right then, his voice was low and a little incredulous, as if in spite of the too proud front he displayed before others, he couldn’t quite believe that anyone might want him.
Of course, that was a sentiment Nie Huaisang knew as well, and it only served to cement his decision.
Nie Mingjue could say what he wanted, Nie Huaisang was taking Su She home with him, and he was going to keep him, because clearly nobody else knew how to appreciate him.
They might come second best to everyone else, but if they chose each other, who cared that other people thought they weren’t enough?
So Nie Huaisang grinned and, rather than to answer that stupid question, he kissed Su She, hoping that would say it all.
#Su She#nie huaisang#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#bad ship prompts#jau writes#I legit had to control myself because I almost wrote something much much longer#I guess I have big feels for characters who are never good enough for everyone else deciding that they're good together#anyway I'm a little into this ship now oops
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
金桑 沙沙羽, 和你 一起飞
“Come, come,” it said. “I just need an extra pair of hands. Here, hold this here while I--”
Mo Xuanyu did as he was told, marveling at how easily to other person’s hands gathered the fabric, trimming it in one clean line. Mo Xuanyu imagined trying the same, and knew her would have felt the silk fray beneath his fingertips in an instant.
“Perfect. Can you go grab the candle for me? We need to keep this from unraveling…”
Mo Xuanyu hopped up immediately, taking the unlit candle and holding the wick over the fire. The other person took it with a grateful smile, lighting the freshly-cut cloth and quickly putting it out, smoothing over the remains with their fingers.
“Alright! You look beautiful, A-Fen,” the person complimented, before turning to Mo Xuanyu. “Thanks for your help. Our performer had to back out at the last minute, and A-Fen had to take his place. She’s much smaller than Zhuwei-ge.”
The girl in the green dress, A-Fen, laughed at that, and Mo Xuanyu smiled. “Er-gongzi is right.”
“What is your name?” the first man asked. “I should thank you properly for your help.”
“Mo Xuanyu, son of Jin Guangshan,” Mo Xuanyu replied.
“I’m Nie Huaisang, half-brother of Nie Mingjue!” the man, Nie Huaisang, replied. “Thanks a million, Mo-xiong!”
Mo Xuanyu nodded, casting his gaze down. “It’s...really nothing.”
“Nonsense !” Nie Huaisang protested, swinging an arm around Mo Xuanyu’s shoulders as if they were already the closest of friends. “Hey, why don’t we go get something to eat before the show starts, huh? The dancers all have to go get setup backstage, but they don’t really need us anymore, eh?”
Mo Xuanyu nodded hesitantly. They don’t really need me anymore, no, Mo Xuanyu thought. But Sect Leader might get upset if I’m slacking off…
But Nie Huaisang was rather insistent, so Mo Xuanyu tried not to dwell on that for long as Nie Huaisang dragged him out by the arm.
“You live here, so you know what the best snacks are, right?” Nie Huaisang asked, finding his way to the kitchen without even asking. Mo Xuanyu had a sneaking suspicion that this man was often running off for random snacks during intersect gatherings.
“I suppose,” Mo Xuanyu replied. “That is, if your idea of the ‘best snacks’ are the sweetest ones.”
“Ah, so you’re a sweets person, Mo-xiong? That’s alright, I like myself some sweets!”
And so, Nie Huaisang followed eagerly as Mo Xuanyu found them various sweets to nibble on (sweet red bean filled dumplings and egg tarts, fruity snowball-like pastries and grass jellies!). The desserts in Lanling were much nicer, and much richer than the treats he used to eat with his mother, and Mo Xuanyu had tried so many new ones in the past eight months than he could count. A part of him thought sharing these foods with Nie Huaisang was nearly as delightful as his dreams of bringing sweets home to his mother and reciting poetry, like the old times.
For a brief moments, he wondered if Nie Huaisang liked poetry, too. He shook that thought out of his head just as fast.
#mdzs#dancecultivationau#sangyu#nie huaisang#mo xuanyu#i should have been working on smth else but--#read the whole first chapter on ao3
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
In Which Nie Huaisang Does Not Know How to Drop It
Summary: Jin Guangyao intercepts one of Nie Huaisang's trade deals. Nie Huaisang won't rest until he gets his revenge. Jiang Cheng would very much like his husband to drop it.
Written for sangchengber day 4 - Crime AU!
Rating: M
Pairing: Sangcheng
Warnings: Talk of sex
ao3 link
“I’m going to kill Yao-ge!”
His husband’s voice echoes through their apartment and into the master bathroom. Until now, Jiang Cheng didn’t even know Nie Huaisang was home.
Sighing and removing the cucumber slices from his eyes, Jiang Cheng calls back, “Welcome home, A-Sang.”
“Hello my love! I’m home!” Nie Huaisang enters the master bath, still dressed to the nines. “Know any contract killers I can hire?”
Jiang Cheng sinks further into his bath. He’d been planning to take the day to himself, away from the family business. But crime doesn’t sleep and, apparently, neither does the weird friend-enemy relationship between Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao.
“What happened now?” Jiang Cheng asks as he starts to chew on the cucumber slices.
Nie Huaisang begins disrobing with a significant sigh. “You remember I was going to finalize that trade agreement with the Tang family? They’ll get top of the line ecstasy from the Nie and we’ll get access to their spy network?” Off goes Nie Huaisang’s top, revealing the intricate and lace-like tattoo that encircles his waist. “Well, take a guess at what Yao-ge did!”
Jiang Cheng watches in appreciation as Nie Huaisang removes his black thigh highs. “He killed your contact in the Tang family?”
Then goes the pleated skirt. “Worse! He intercepted the trade and took the deal for himself! Now the Jin will have everything my family was supposed to.” Finally, he removes his satin briefs, gloriously naked and unfairly sexy in front of Jiang Cheng.
“In that case, I don’t think killing him will fix anything,” Jiang Cheng counsels. As Nie Huaisang approaches the bath, Jiang Cheng leans over the bathtub rim, reaching out a hand to grab his husband’s ass.
“Not right now, A-Cheng,” Nie Huaisang says, grabbing Jiang Cheng’s hand to leave an apologetic kiss on the inside of his wrist. “I need to think.” Without bothering to remove his makeup, Nie Huaisang slips into the bath. Thankfully, their tub is more than large enough to accommodate the two of them.
“About killing Jin Guangyao or taking a more civilized route?”
“Would you be mad if I said both?”
“I’d be very annoyed. It’s hard enough making sure the Ouyang and Yao families stay loyal to only the Jiangs. If you start a war with the Jin, I’ll be up to my eyeballs with internal conflict.”
Nie Huaisang clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Fine. I’ll be nice this time.”
“Will you try to make a new trade agreement with the Tang? Or weasel your way into the one Jin Guangyao finalized?”
Nie Huaisang sinks into the bathwater, the bottom of his hair floating with the soap bubbles. “Probably see if I can convince Yao-ge to renegotiate. First I should figure out why he wanted my trade agreement. Then I’ll stick it to that bitch.”
Jiang Cheng smiles and slots himself between Nie Huaisang’s legs, hovering about his husband. “That’s the man I married,” he says, doing his best to sound seductive.
It must work, because Nie Huaisang tucks Jiang Cheng’s hair behind his ear before bringing him in for a searing kiss. “That’s enough thinking for today,” he whispers against Jiang Cheng’s lips.
Jiang Cheng smirks before making himself busy.
~~~
A week later, though, the situation isn’t resolved.
“Little bitch won’t even talk to me,” Nie Huaisang grumbles as he types on his phone. Jiang Cheng’s best guess is that he’s talking to a Jin contact, but he can’t be certain. “The second I mention the Tang deal, everyone clams up. San-ge won’t answer my calls, er-ge is leaving me on read, and now da-ge! My own da-ge! Calls me this morning to tell me to drop the situation. Like I’m going to do that when they’ve got me curious!”
Jiang Cheng would very much like to watch this movie with his husband but, well, he’s used to disappointment.
Pressing pause on Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Jiang Cheng sighs and leans back in the couch. “Want to talk about it?” he asks, putting on his best sarcastic tone.
“I’m sorry, puppy,” Nie Huaisang says without looking up from his phone. He reaches out his hand and Jiang Cheng places it on his knee so Nie Huaisang can rub it apologetically. “I can’t leave this.”
“No, I know.” Sighing again, Jiang Cheng rubs the bridge of his nose. He loves Nie Huaisang more than anything, but he won’t deny there are sides of him that Jiang Cheng can barely stand. His stubborn desire to solve any mystery, for example. Jiang Cheng will never forget what happened after he watched Inception with Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian when they were still in their teens. In what was his first glance into his future-husband’s intellect, he saw his then-friend lose himself in Reddit theories about the movie’s ending and pick apart all the possible meanings. That insatiable curiosity was insane then and it is insane now.
Jiang Cheng stands up and turns on the living room lights. Nie Huaisang is still sitting on the couch, buried deep into his phone, his share of the snacks untouched and forgotten. Restraining another sigh, Jiang Cheng decides then and there what he’ll have to do before his husband drives him mad. He won’t like it, not in the slightest, but he’s willing to make due for love.
~~~
Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen, and Jin Guangyao share an apartment in midtown. Among the many swanky high-rise buildings and metro lines, the trio live in a quaint, three-storey building. It is the last place one would think to look for three of the most powerful names in the criminal underworld as well as just cute enough to appeal to Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao’s cottage core tastes.
Jiang Cheng presses the buzzer for their apartment – room 303. He knows there is a camera attached to the buzzer and that he didn’t bother wearing a disguise, so he is very surprised when he is allowed entry. As he climbs the stairs, he runs through scenarios in his head. He is wearing a bulletproof vest just in case, but he knows that winning the argument will ultimately come down to sincerity (or how well he can fake sincerity) and word-spinning (or how well he can mimic Nie Huaisang without betraying his pride).
When Jiang Cheng knocks on the door, he is greeted by Nie Mingjue wearing only baggy sweatpants with his long hair tied into a long braid. All arguments immediately leave Jiang Cheng’s head, because it is simply impossible for a mere mlm to not fall victim to the intrinsic sexiness of Nie Mingjue.
“Huaisang sent you?” Nie Mingjue grumbles, sounding so much like a deeper-voiced version of his younger brother.
“Um—no, I came here on my own,” Jiang Cheng stumbles to reply. “I wanted to talk to you. On my own.”
Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes and steps back from the door, allow Jiang Cheng to enter. “I’ll go get the other two.”
The other two arrive in short time. Lan Xichen, as always, is dressed impeccably and like he just walked out of a photoshoot for Vanity Fair. Jin Guangyao, meanwhile, is still in his pajamas, a mismatched set of yellow sweatshirt and light green pants, yet his make-up and hair are not a detail out of place.
“How can we help you, Wanyin?” Lan Xichen asks, serene smile in place as he fills a tea kettle with water.
“If it’s about the Tang deal, please tell Sang-di the answer is still no,” Jin Guangyao adds as he settles into the couch next to Nie Mingjue.
“You know he won’t drop it,” Jiang Cheng responds. When Lan Xichen asks him his preferred tea, he responds anything with chamomile, thank you.
“Neither will I,” Jin Guangyao retorts, smiling politely as Nie Mingjue throws an arm around his shoulders and pulls him against his side.
“I’ve lived with the brat for years,” Nie Mingjue argues, “he’ll drop it in a few weeks.”
“He’ll be a bitch about it for an extra month, though,” Jin Guangyao snarks.
“A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue scolds.
“He’s right, da-ge. Sang-di is a bit of a bitch,” Lan Xichen says.
“I’m his husband and I have to agree,” Jiang Cheng adds.
Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes. “Fine. But you can use nicer language.”
“Here’s the thing, though,” Jiang Cheng starts as Lan Xichen pours hot water into four cups, “Nie Huaisang is a bitch and I love him so much, but this Tang deal is getting in the way of a happy marriage.”
“Suck his dick if you want him to pay attention to you,” Jin Guangyao immediately snarks.
“A-Yao!” Nie Mingjue nearly screeches.
“I have to agree with da-ge on this one, A-Yao. That was a bit far,” Lan Xichen says smoothly as he carries in the tea.
Jiang Cheng takes his cup first. “The problem is that I have! But then right after, it’s back to the Tang deal!”
“Please don’t talk about my didi’s sex life,” Nie Mingjue whines.
“Hm, he really sounds like a Nie alright,” Jin Guangyao says as he takes his cup of tea. “Thank you, Huan-ge,” he adds sweetly to Lan Xichen.
“Please don’t bring me into this argument!” Nie Mingjue cries as he hides his face in Jin Guangyao’s hair.
“Maybe he needs a new project?” Lan Xichen tries as he sets his and Nie Mingjue’s cups on the coffee table.
“I’ve tried getting him interested in some Jiang affairs,” Jiang Cheng says as he settles into a loveseat adjacent to the couch. “He won’t pay them any attention.”
“Jiang affairs are probably boring to him now,” Jin Guangyao advises. “He married into them, after all.”
“Perhaps ask Wei Wuxian? There’s always something interesting going on with him,” Lan Xichen says as he sits down next to Jiang Cheng, looking every bit like somebody’s hot and nice school counselor.
“I’ll, um, I’ll try that,” Jiang Cheng replies. He turns his eyes onto the door, hoping he’ll be able to finish this cup of tea before he’s somehow roped into this weird polycule.
~~~
Lan Xichen’s advice turns out to work. Wei Wuxian has somehow embedded himself in a tricky situation involving the Wen siblings versus the rest of their stupid family. Getting Nie Huaisang involved proves a quick fix to both Wei Wuxian’s bullshit and the Tang deal.
“So was this san-ge’s idea, too?” Nie Huaisang asks after a night of long-overdue sex.
“Xichen’s, actually,” Jiang Cheng replies, curling up around his husband. “But if you’re thinking about trying to weasel your way back into the Tang deal, I will leave you.”
“…Fine. I’ll leave it be,” Nie Huaisang mumbles as he slots himself against Jiang Cheng’s body.
“Good. I love you.”
Nie Huaisang laughs softly. “I love you, too.”
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
outtakes [3]
“You’re a terrible influence. I’m pretty sure that Ganyu was nicer before you two started dating,” Keqing narrows her eyes, squinting at the fine print.
Yanfei pokes her finger to Keqing’s forehead, pushing her face back from the tablet. “You’re going to ruin your eyes. I mean. They’re already ruined, but you’re going to make them worse. Just suck it up and see your optometrist again.”
Keqing grunts, “She retired. I don’t trust her replacement.”
“They’re optometrists. I don’t think they’re going around untrained.”
“I am very particular about my contact lenses. It took me three fittings to get these ones right.”
“And your new optometrist can’t just copy the fitting from your last visit?”
Keqing is quiet in a way that Yanfei’s years of experience in a courtroom know as guilty. If they were in a courtroom this would be the case closer and Yanfei would be walking to the bus stop with a bounce to her step and a more generous outlook on whether or not she’s paying for a round or not.
“When was your last visit?” Yanfei asks, making a grab for the tablet. Keqing lets it go easy enough.
“Four years ago,” Keqing says.
Yanfei makes a face. “The things in your eyes must be riddled with germs.”
“They still work.”
“Qing-er — “
“Don’t call me that.”
“Everyone always thinks you’re angry because you’re scowling and frowning but is it just because you can’t see worth shit?”
“You’re one to talk, your eyesight is as bad as mine.”
“Yeah, but I go to my optometrist and get new contacts every year on the dot. My optometrist and I joke that I keep anniversary dates better than his wife does.”
“Somehow I’m not surprised by this information. You’re surprisingly well liked for a contract lawyer who’s constantly booked full.”
“Hey! Why surprisingly? I’ve got a very charismatic personality. And I only speak the truth so why should people hold a grudge? I’m only holding them to their own words!”
“Yanfei, that is exactly why someone would hate you.” Keqing sighs. “Just tell me the important parts I need to know. How do you see anything on your tablet? It’s all set so small you’d need to zoom in four times just to get a difference between a punctuation and a speck of dust. Also I retract my previous statement. Consider it stricken from the record. Ganyu has never been nice. She’s just polite but what can you expect from someone raised by Zhongli-xiangsheng?”
“Xiao-ge isn’t polite.”
“Xiao-ge is polite, you’re just dating his sister. All bets are off when it comes to family. No one is polite to family.”
Yanfei holds a hand to her chest. “I think that’s possibly the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, Keqing. You do care.”
“If only because you make Ganyu happy and a happy Ganyu is a happy Qixing.” Keqing sighs, brushing her bangs to the side of her face. “Ganyu’s more playful now. I think that’s the word I’m looking for. She’s more liable to bully people with thin faces because of you. It’s all the playing around you both do with Xiao. The man’s face is so thin I don’t know he got a job in security.”
“You say that but your face is as thin as he is,” Yanfei snickers. “You both get riled up so easily. Matching tempers. I’m surprised you two don’t get along more.”
“We get along plenty fine. Between the rest of you someone’s got to be capable of feeling any sort of shame, just so we can pretend to be responsible adults in society.” Keqing crosses her arms. “Get to it.”
Yanfei quickly flips to her notes she’d taken of the contract and Keqing groans.
“Why didn’t you just let me read the notes to start with?”
“Because if I told you I took notes then you’d want to see the contract itself and then read the notes again afterwards. You wouldn’t trust my notes alone. Come on, give me some credit. I know you better than you think. Even before we were friends I’ve been going back and forth with the Qixing poking out the holes for you lot to fix like determined little tailors.” Yanfei clears her throat, face turning serious as she scans her note page. “Alright. Focus, down to business Keqing. This contract seems airtight but even submarines have to release pressure somewhere. The contract also seems to be evenly balanced but I started checking into the current stock trends for the jade traders and I’ve found some interesting sells and trades for the past few months.”
Keqing hisses out through her teeth. “Few months? Yanfei, you said you found this one in your spare time. How far did you dig?”
“Consider it a favor. Your lot would’ve had to do the digging anyway.”
“That’s the point. The Qixing is still going to need to independently review what you’ve found and cross referenced. You’re not saving any time — wait, where are you getting these records from? Yanfei.”
“You have your sources, I have mine.”
Keqing groans. “Every single time you tell me you’ve found something interesting I fall for it like an idiot. I think it won’t be that bad, that it’s going to be something minor like tax evasion or some kind of labor hour issue. And then you bring insider trading and monopoly rigging to me.”
“I keep you in a job, ingrate,” Yanfei says fondly. “Ganyu always says you seem livelier when I pass you an interesting case.”
“Lively is a polite way for Ganyu to say I’m on my last nerve and ready to snap.”
Yanfei giggles, “But Keqing, you’re already snapping. How many last nerves do you have?”
“You!” Keqing shakes her fist at the other woman. “You’re insufferable! I don’t know how Ganyu puts up with you! The woman’s got the patience of a god. She’s going to ascend before everyone else just for this alone. If you ever came to work for the Qixing I’d quit my job and go to work at my parent’s grocery store.”
“You’d be turning the grocery store into a chain business and pillar of the local economy within half a year then you’d get bored and come back.”
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
NaNoWriMo 2020 #05
This part fits in one of my favorite AUs, the old generation Sworn brothers (which is not the Evil Lans AU... that one is a consequence of this AU. I swear I’m trying my best to containall the mad ideas I have. I’m also failing at that.)
I never thought I would get attached to Wen RuoHan too but here I go...I have no control. But I’m pretty proud of this fic.
(And I’ve hit the 10k already hooray!!!)
Have a nice reading!!
Day: 05/11/2020
Prompt: Pick who dies
Ship: Mingjue/Zonghui (only mentioned)
Word count: 2363
The Sunshot campaign had been his idea and Nie MingJue was ready to pay the highest price for it, he was ready to die to see it succeed, he never said it aloud like that but that didn't make it less true. He couldn't say it aloud anyway, there were people who would try to stop him, people who would join him in his suicide mission, and he already condemned too many of them to that unfair fate. No more.
But fate had different plans for him, he realized once in the Fire Palace. Fate showed no mercy, made no difference between Saints and sinners. Fate took and took and grinned like a mad man. His fate was called Wen RuoHan and Nie MingJue was on the brink of losing.
"you said the unclean realm was the safest place for me!" Nie HuaiSang whined, his hand in front of him, blocked by heavy chains that were already leaving marks on his wrists. "I see how safe it is!"
The man next to him, chained in the same way, but with more bruises and cuts from the fights before he got ambushed, sighed.
"how could we know they would burst in there and kill everyone on their way to your chamber in the middle of the night? I left my best men there to your protection and they--"
"failed."
"were brutally killed by Wen's scum. Young Master please, give us some credit, we tried!"
Nie HuaiSang almost never complained, nor he really blamed those Nie ZongHui left behind to protect the unclean realm and him of course. If anything he felt guilty for not having been able to protect them too, he couldn't even reach for his saber in time, not that it would have made a huge difference anyway. He could have tried at least. No, his complaints weren't honest, and in a different moment Nie ZongHui would have realized it immediately, but he was too tired now, too weakened by the battle and the wounds, the cut on the side of his head oozing blood slowly. Nie HuaiSang only complained loudly and obnoxiously to keep him awake and aware of what was around him. He would apologize later, once his brother would find out and came to their rescue.
That was his plan. Wen RuoHan plan was different.
"I'm a merciful man, you know?"
Nie MingJue coughed, fresh blood splattered on the floor, mixing with the already dried one.
There had been a time he would have believed those words, but they were spoken in a nicer voice, with a smile. They were spoken when he was a little boy, in a manner meant to tease his father during a training session. He remembered his father holding back his strength, leaving his personal Saber in her sheath and using a common sword in an attempt to let his younger sworn brother win. And he did win, towering over him with a light shining in his eyes, they always had a red hue, ever since Nie MingJue could remember.
"it's because our descendants came from the sun. - he told him once. - they stole it's heat and ran away, our eyes are red for that reason." little MingJue looked at him in awe and patted his small hands on his cheeks. "uncle Red!" he squealed.
"stop telling him stories about you people stealing the sun!"
"its heat, not that actual sun, Er-ge."
"uncle cold!!" and he waved his arms at him trying to be picked up and passed back and forth between them.
"I'm a merciful man, sect leader Nie."
But that man wasn't the same, it was a memory, and he had been lost so long ago.
"you're not." he wanted to say but remained silent, the one time he tried to talk back he found himself getting hit by a shot of red light from the yin iron, he felt his chest burn and his mind go blank. When he woke up, the memory lingering painfully in his mind, he wasn't in the hall in nightless city but in the fire palace, he wasn't going to kill him, he realized, he wanted to torture him into obedience and then, only then, only when he was broken in his knees, he would show him off as a trophy, a sign of his undiscussed power in front of all the sects who followed him into destruction and despair and death.
"you killed my oldest son."
Yes, Nie MingJue thought. He killed Wen Xu personally, beheaded him and placed his head on the gates of the Hejian Front as a reminder of his power. - they didn't know the rest of the story. Wen Xu's body was buried with his hands crossed over his sword, the coffin only partially sealed, he wanted to bury his head too once the war was over. And he would bury him in Qishan. They wouldn't understand. The Lans would probably oppose. Maybe Lan Qiren could speak up for him. Or maybe he stopped caring the day he -- -
"for that I will have to kill something yours."
Weren't all my disciples enough already? He kept his mouth sealed close.
"I'll let you choose."
What?
He blinked trying to clear his mind from the pain and the tiredness, he blinked to clear his vision, almost convinced he saw wrong.
He couldn't be there. HuaiSang was safe in the unclean realm, ZongHui was leading his men at Hejian, he left him there when he left that night. Was it only been a night? Time was… Weird. He didn't leave him wounded, now he had a gash over his head, blood dripping on the side of his face. They were… fighting?
"it's your choice, you pick who I kill between them. You see, I'm merciful."
"uncle Red! Uncle Red!!" little MingJue wobbled on his feet across the halls, he tumbled over the last step leading to the ancestral Wen's throne, but immediately collected himself back up and smiled climbing on his knee.
"I made this for you!" he showed a pin in his hands proudly. "A-die helped but I made it!"
"he almost burnt his hand off." Nie ZhenXiang voice came from in front of them
"You need to be careful JueJue." he said softly, looking at how the boy shook his head and took the pin back before standing on his knees and trying to fit it in his uncle's hair.
"there. Now you can come visit us whenever you want and no one can stop you." he said proudly. "Can I go see A-Xu?" he asked in the end before scrambling out in search of his younger cousin when he got permission.
"it suits you."
Wen RuoHan smiled.
"thank you Da-ge."
There was a pin in Nie MingJue's hair, crooked and old, he kept it hidden where only a certain level of intimacy would reveal it was there. A pin in the shape of a flaming sun. Some days Nie MingJue hated being so attached to the past, he wished he had lost all softness the day his father died, he wished he could be as cold as Lan Qiren on that matter. But maybe Lan Qiren was too cold, never speaking of his father anymore, not even a small mention, not a letter in the day of his death’s anniversary, or a look, Lan XiChen probably didn't even know his uncle had two sworn brothers once. Sometimes he wondered if HuaiSang knew. But he did, he remembered. He moved war against a man he once called his favorite uncle. He wished he could forget.
“That’s not even a question.” Nie ZongHui’s voice was strained, Nie MingJue could feel his pain, his consciousness beginning to fade despite his best tries. “You can’t kill HuaiSang, that’s absolutely out of question.”
“ZongHui! - The younger Nie exclaimed turning to stare at him. - If you die Da-ge won’t survive more than a week.”
“Of course he will, he will have you.”
“A week. A week and then he’ll die of grief. You went missing for two days and he already had a searching party outside.”
“You’re his only brother.”
“You’re his betrothed!”
Nie MingJue didn’t see Wen RuoHan move until he was next to him, a hand clawing on his injured shoulder.
“I know what you’re thinking. Just like your father, you are. Sacrificing yourself will not save them. I will find no pleasure in killing you so soon, and they too will die, for nothing.”
(”Love will pass after a while. He will find — - Nie ZongHui briefly held his head on one hand as nausea washed over him. - find someone else he’ll love one day. He wont find another brother.”)
“Are you allowed to compare me to father? After what you did? Do you even remember what he looked like?”
“You insolent —”
(”He won’t fall in love! You know he won’t! It took me years to convince him he was worthy of you! I only bring shame to the Nie Sect…”)
The hit was almost expected, it was direct, the back of his hand colliding with Nie MingJue's cheek with enough strength to send him fall on the floor stopping the discussion between the other two prisoners, Nie ZongHui tried to take a step But it only took a look from Wen RuoHan to stop him, he put a foot over Nie MingJue when he tried to stand.
“You, stay right where you are or he will die, his brother next and you last, slowly.” He warned.
With a flicker of his hand a red surge of energy lifted Nie MingJue until he was hanging in front of him barely conscious.
“And you… You need to learn some manners.”
Nie MingJue brought both hands around the neck, it was suddenly hard to breath, like he was choking on air, soon enough he let his head loll to the side, his hands let go and fell limp at the side of his body, two voice desperate calling his name.
“Was that so easy? The great Sect Leader Nie is in truth that much weak?”
He moved closer and grabbed Nie MingJue's face lifting it slightly. Close enough for MingJue to open his eyes and stab something in the back of his neck. He barely had time to grin before in a burst of rage and red energy , Wen RuoHan, threw him against the wall and he laid there.
Nie MingJue knew he couldn’t choose, he knew he would rather die than condemning one of them only to live in regret for not even a week, a day, two perhaps if he was generous. The truth, the one hidden under many layers of hate and rage, was that he didn’t want to be the one killing Wen RuoHan. He wanted him dead, of course, after what he did, after what he became, but directly killing him… no. That wasn’t in the initial plans. He led to that.
Nie MingJue also knew wen RuoHan thought him to be unarmed. It was easy to think that when he personally took his saber and the daggers he had on himself. He forgot the hairpins.
It had been his mother’s idea, back in the days before MingJue was even in their most hidden ideas, to turn the pins both her and Nie ZhenXiang loved to wear so much into weapons. Making them cave was easy, it took some tries to fill them with any kind of poison or tranquilizer they could think of and seal them in a specific way that only stabbing would release the liquid. Of course they were dangerous, deadly, even for them to wear, but no one would consider that a weapon, no one would take them away if they were captured.
Over the years Nie MingJue put together a specific poison, for emergencies, he said. Something unknown, something not even the stronger cultivator could fight off in time. A poison made from the blood dripping from Baxia’s blade, made of resentful energy and evil. He made it and swore to never use it. He filled only one hairpin with it and hid it under the braids. Just in case. Just if he needed. If things were bad. His original plan was to use it on himself. Plans rarely got followed during that war.
He woke up some time later with his head on Nie HuaiSang's lap, next to him laid ZongHui, his chest rising and falling regularly. Lan XiChen was kneeling by his side, his wrist caught in his cool fingers as he slowly healed him. With a soft sob HuaiSang curled over him and brushed his cheek against MingJue's forehead.
“I thought… I thought you were dead. Don’t do that again. Promise.” Nie MingJue hummed, nodding weakly.
“What happened?”
“Wen RuoHan is dead.” Lan XiChen informed him and he nodded again before trying to sit despite HuaiSang's complaints.
He looked around briefly before his eyes settled on a figure not far from them, he was looking down where wen RuoHan had finally fallen and died, holding a passage token. Perhaps in the last moments he remembered, perhaps he broke free from the Yin iron power for those last seconds, enough to grab the Jade token and die holding it. Perhaps. Nie MingJue didn’t know.
Lan Qiren turned and looked at them exhaling slowly, in his hands a cave hairpin in the crooked shape of a flaming sun; in his eyes a regret most of the world would never understand.
(Many years later Lan Qiren would enter his older nephew’s room as he sat there in seclusion. He would sit next to him and bring out two passage tokens he kept tied with a tassel. Silence would stretch between them until, with a sigh, he would speak.
“I suppose it’s a curse us second brothers have to share.” His smile would be sad, lost in a distant memory, lost in a long lost time that would never come again. “To see their downfall and remain blind until it’s too late.”
And perhaps he would tell him the story of three sworn brothers who, in their youth, dreamed to change the world.)
#nie mingjue#wen ruohan#nie zonghui#nie huaisang#mingjue/zonghui#pick who dies#character death#Old generation sworn brothers#the untamed#cql#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#mdzs fic#Grandmaster of demonic cultivation#founder of diabolism#fanfic#nanowrimo 2020#angst collection in cultivation#aki writes
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Daily Life Drabbles: The Cake
Wen yawned and shuffled half-awake into the living room. Just ahead he spotted Ronan. He was (as always) draped dramatically over Margo’s recliner in a way only thought possible for wet towels. A frustrated huff escaped him and his eyebrows drew together in concentration as he tried to make sense of the Country Living Magazine in his hands. He flipped forwards a few pages and seemed only more and more at a loss the further he read on.
“Morning,” Beckman greeted him and leaned down to place a kiss on his cheek. His soft sentiment was lost though. His half-conscious reflexes missed his mark by a mile and Ronan cringed as Wen’s lips met the Irishman’s ear. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to-...” He rubbed a hand over his eyes before waving vaguely. “..Yeah.”
“S’fine, swee’hear’, jus’ a li’tle gross fer ya is all.” Ronan sat up an inch to look around before settling back into the cushions more haphazardly than he started. “Ay, ‘N? Before ya go an’ make cereal o’ wha’ever ya were gonna make, come si’ with me a min’ will ya?”
The couch creaked as Wen settled beside him. His hazel eyes looked expectantly into his brown one. “Are you sick? You don’t look too happy.”
“Nah, nothin’ like tha’. Jus’ irritated,” Mulcahey explained and showed him the page he had just been attempting to glare a hole through. It was a recipe for a simple layered chocolate cake. “I wanted ta make somethin’ nice fer Margo since she’s helped us fer so long an’ Emme’ said ‘er birthday’s comin’ up. Bu’ tha thing is tha’ this book ‘e gave me doesn’ make any sense. They go’ tha ingredien’s righ’ ‘ere bu’ look a’ ‘em! I’s like their speaking French o’ something!”
The other man leaned forwards and scanned through the recipe. “What’s a teaspoon?”
“I’s a spoon. Obviously. Bu’-”, he points at another ingredient. “Then there’s tablespoons too. Which is also jus’ a spoon! Why are there two? Wha’s tha difference anyways? I though’ i’ was jus’ a mistake bu’ tha whole book is filled with tha’ shi’!”
“I have an idea,” Wen stood up suddenly and grabbed him by the hand. “I’ll show you.”
“Alrigh’y then.”
Ten minutes and three spoons now soaking in two tea cups to prep later, the two men began to try their hand at baking. It took a little while to find a large bowl and all the ingredients but whatever they couldn’t find they eventually found alternatives for. Things were starting to really come together in their opinion. At least that's what they believed by just glancing at the thing.
Ronan was busy cutting almonds as Wen dumped a cup of water into the bowl and then a few eggs. “Don’ forge’ tha flour. Tha’s an importan’ bi’.” He reminded his boyfriend.
“Oh right!” The taller man frowned at the empty cupboard in front of him. “I used all of our cups on the other ingredients. Should I use a mug instead?”
“Hm..” He squinted at him before bobbing his head in approval. “Yeah tha’ shoul’ be fine. Doesn’ ‘ave ta be perfect.”
The Irishman slid the bag of flour across the counter before pouring the almonds into the mix. Wen had just lifted the bag up in front of him when it began to slip from his hands. On instinct his other hand shot out and grabbed it before it fell, sending a large plume of flour into the face and chest of the man leaned in front of him. The flour-coated man coughed and rubbed his hand over his face.
“‘N.. Wha’ jus’-?” An accusatory brown eye glared up at him from a white-coated wasteland where his face had been. Wen, initially having felt terrible for accidentally dousing him in the powder, now struggled to withhold his laughter. He tried not to look at him as a few deep giggles escaped his lips. Ronan felt his face grow hot with a mix of annoyance and embarrassment before he saw the state of his clothes. “M-Mah shir’! ‘N, ya go’ i’ all over my new-! AN’ MY JACKE’?! Wen-!” He whined and uselessly tried to shake the cloth clean.
“I- I’m s-” Watching him wag his shirt about was too much for the other man and Beckman curled over as laughter overtook him. Tears streamed down his face as he guffawed. Anytime he looked up at Ronan he immediately was hit with a new wave of joy. “Sorry- I’m-!” He struggled to speak. “I-!”
“Ya think this is jus’ so funny, huh?” Beckman nodded and wiped at his face. “Well how funny is i’ for ya when I do this-!” Ronan grabbed him by the collar and pulled his laughing face down to him. He pressed his lips against his roughly, catching Wen pleasantly off guard. Just when he had begun to sink into the kiss the flour-covered man rubbed his face all over his own.
“Ah- Stop-!” He laughed trying to get away. He didn’t get far before Mulcahey wrapped his arms around him and went to work trying to cover every inch of the 7 foot tall man with flour. “Ronan, ah-! You got it in my sweater!”
“Tha’s wha’ ya ge’ fer ruinin’ my hair AN’ clothes.” He growled playfully then yelped as they both went careening backwards and landed on the floor. “AH! WEN-! THA FLOUR!!” He flailed uselessly underneath the larger man’s body. Only managing to get more of the flour on him in the process. Ronan let out a dramatic and forlorn groan and flopped his hands back down. Choosing to accept his fate rather than fight it any longer.
Wen grinned at him, his freckled face half coated as well. “Does that mean I win?” Ronan’s eye shot back open and he glared at him.
“Never!” He declared, grabbing him by the back of his leg and flipping him off. Mulcahey shimmied to his feet and stood proudly over his startled form. “Accept i’, love! In tha end I always-”
The front door creaked open and a small older woman walked through. The Irishman turned around and Margo looked between the two of them, the mess on the counter and her full sink. “..Boys.” She said in an eerily smooth tone. She took a deep breathe in and pushed her glasses up her nose. “I’m gonna go visit Kat for a bit.” She went back out the way she came and slowly meandered back to her truck.
“Shi’.” Ronan shared a worried look with Wen before helping him up. “Alrigh’ new plan. We clean this up then we finish tha cake.”
“Sounds good.” They shook on it and got started. Wen went to work trying to sweep the flour off the counter and floor with his hands. Mulcahey, on the other hand, began to strip off his clothes and put them into a bag so as not to track it in the house. Both now driven by their combined efforts to not get killed when the woman returned to the cabin.
-2 hours later-
Margo’s hand hesitated before grabbing the doorknob before her. She hoped her heart could handle whatever she found on the other side. She opened the door and to her surprise the kitchen looked nearly as it had when she first left that morning. Cautiously, she continued forwards.
“Shorty, Rooster, where did you all get off to?” She heard quick, very-much-audible whispering in the other room. After another few seconds Ronan stumbled out from the hallway as if pushed by an over-eager hand and grins apprehensively at her. “Care to explain what’s going on?”
“Well, ya see-,” his eye glanced at the living room and he cleared his throat. “We- Me and ‘N, ya know ‘im. Well, we made somethin’ an’- Oh-! Tha mess don’ worry we go’ tha’ all up! I’s jus’ woosh gone, y’know how tha’ goes. Jus’-!.. Yep.”
“Rooster, are you gonna spit it out or-?” All of her old worries were now gone and now she merely enjoyed watching the ordeal play out.
Ronan, looking rather constipated, shouted for the other to join them. It took him a second, but eventually the sheepish man came into the main room as well. In his hands he carefully supported a-.. Well, she wasn’t exactly sure what it was, on one of her nicer plates. Just going from the looks of the thing she assumed that if either church in town caught sight of it it’d likely be declared an abomination and quickly exorcised.
“We made a cake,” Wen said proudly. “For your birthday!”
“Was my idea bu’ ‘N helped me transla’e i’ and pu’ i’ together. Do ya know how hard i’ is ta make one o’ these?! Took ages. Bu’ i’s perfect.”
“Better than the picture,” the other chimed in. Mulcahey nodded in agreement and she chuckled. “We should have some.”
Margo had at first found the whole situation rather endearing. That is, she felt that way until that exact point. She smiled widely but as her eyes fell on the mess on the plate she only felt dread filling her gut. “Of course! L-Let’s go get us each a slice.” She had lived long enough, she decided and took the plate from him.
She set the thing on their dining room table and did her best to cut it as it oozed beneath her blade. Margo put a strangely rigid yet gelatinous piece on each of their plates and sat down. Her two loveably stupid sons smiled excitedly at her as she scooped some onto a fork. She smiled back, prayed to whoever or whatever was out there and took a bite. “Is-..” She struggled to swallow it. “Is that sour cream?”
Ronan gave her a smug look. “Yep, we forgo’ ta add i’ in before with tha other ingredients bu’ then I remembered we still needed ta make tha fillin’. So we jus’ threw I’ in there! Clever righ’?”
“Oh? Yes, very.. Um, creative.” She chewed through another glob and gave him a supportive smile. Turning her attention to the other man beside her, she found that Wen was shoveling down the mess without hesitation. Margo’s stomach twisted at the sight but she couldn’t help but respect him for it. “Well, this was real nice, boys. I love it alot. It was-.. Was very sweet of you both to do this all just for me.”
She reached over and dusted some flour out of the fan of Ronan’s mohawk. Making a mental note to teach them how to bake before her next birthday. He grumbled and waved her off and Wen continued to eat the “cake” like a man half-starved, smiling all the while. Margo, despite her and very likely Wen’s inevitable food poisoning, found that this was the best birthday she had in a long time and looked forward to the next one they would share.
#my writing#ronan mulcahey#wen beckman#my ocs#my oc#original story#original character#mlm characters#mlm ocs#lgbt ocs#gay#drabble#romance#fluff#gay disasters#baking
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
♔ TASK 002; THE INTERROGATION ☞ valerie castillo
( tw: death mentions, mob mentions )
So much had changed.
It was almost funny how in five years, so much had changed. How the sense of deja vu could hit someone in a brand new place. It almost makes the thought of running away from home that much harder.
Five years, since she’d been in a similar room. With the same four dreary walls, and the same eerie light that hung overhead. An ominous chill crawls up her spine, upon the thought of her once having sat in a similar-looking chair, answering questions about her late brother.
The Castillo-Guerrera takes two thoughtful steps to the mirror in front of her. Mahogany hues lock onto the gaze of her reflection. Fragments of the person she used to be. Once-upon-a-time shrapnel shards of hope now appeared irrevocably lackluster. Long-ago smile now turned an unfathomable scowl. It took five years and to return to the confines of an interrogation room to come face-to-face with the inevitable truth — Valeria couldn’t recognize the person she saw anymore. Solemn eyes shift south to fall upon her golden rose pendant. Manny’s rose pendant. Perhaps the only thing that remained the same. The creak of the door immediately grasps Val’s attention, as a polite smile musters to greet the detective.
“Please, take a seat. The station thanks you in advance for your cooperation and honesty today. The more information you give us today, the faster you’ll be out that door. Understood?”
“Hm? Yes, of course. Understood.” No time is wasted as she quietly obeys his orders. The nicer she plays, the easier this’ll be in the long run.
“Are you aware of the events that occurred on February 19th, 2017? More specifically, the attempted murder of Desmond Delaney?”
"I can’t imagine there’s a person in Treeville who doesn’t know of the incident, detective.” Valerie shakes her head, before leaning back in her seat. “But to state for the record, yes. I’m aware of the murder attempt. I wouldn’t wish what happened to him on my worst enemy.”
“Had you ever met or heard of Mr. Delaney prior to the incident?”
"Er, honestly speaking? His name doesn’t personally ring as much of a bell as the convenience store he worked at. I frequented that store my junior year — ‘15 to ‘16. It was close to where I had my afternoon class, so sometimes I’d grab water or a snack from there if I had no time for a proper meal. He might’ve rang up my things one of those times, or something. But given the circumstances of my hurried visits, that was the extent of it.”
“Where were you on the night of February 19th, 2017? What were you doing and especially, who were you with? Please recall as much as you can remember, even the smallest bits of information will prove to be helpful.”
It’s almost impossible to ignore the sirens going off in her head. She takes two seconds to herself, before resuming eye-contact with the detective. "Last year... that was also President’s day weekend, if I recall correctly. Ah. I spent that night at TRX. You know, Vivian’s club? Vivian Trons, to specify.” Thoughts on the sudden name-dropping volleyed back and forth in her head, as it contrastingly rolled off her tongue with ease. She was never an advocate of tossing another’s name into a lie, but what choice did she have? This was the only way to wrap a lie with a truth. And strategically speaking, two fake alibis were stronger than one. “I was planning for my birthday party in advance and wanted to scope out the place before booking it. Viv was with me that night too,” a carefully articulated phrase, as fingers now interlock on the table’s cool surface. “Despite it being a Sunday night, quite the crowd had formulated. Guess her business has taken off, hasn’t it?”
“Allow me to make it clear that deception to law enforcement will not be tolerated. That being said, is there anything you’d like to add or perhaps clarify? This will be your only chance.”
“I guess there is one thing that’s been bothering me...” brows now furrow a little at the topic at hand, as eyes drop to interlocked fingers. Should she even say it? The last remark made by the detective is enough to change the girl’s mind. Pad of right thumb begins to brush against the other’s knuckle in an antsy manner.
“Does... does anybody else get a little confused by the name of that club?” Young Spaniard begins, fingers now unlocking and splaying out face-up on the chilled surface of the interrogation table. “Like when you hear the name. You think of the cereal too, right? The whole ‘Trix are for kids!’ kind of thing.” Two index fingers reach up to curl above her ears. “But in THIS instance, TRX are most certainly not for kids. At least I’d hope not.” A small pause, as lips go awry. An Oscar-worthy performance yet again, by the the theatrical, naive Castillo. “Like, I don’t want to hurt Viv’s feelings. It really is a cool name! But sometimes I kinda ge—”
“–Alright. We’ll be following up on the information provided today for legitimacy. We’ll be in touch. Thank you for your time. You’re free to go.”
"I’ll... I’ll take that as a no?”
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Master List Nov Edition 2019
(1/2)
Welp, I did say Nov’s Master List was going to take a while, but it wasn’t expected to take this long... Anyways, enjoy!
This half contains AU-centric headcanons (excluding Classic Undertale)
The second half contains Classic Undertale, Multiple AU headcanons, other headcanons (mostly of different AUs) and franstastic-idea's other posts
franstastic-ideas - November Content
------------------------------------------------------
Wraithtale
Nov 4 - WT Frisk using her big-boned human as a pillow to relax on
Nov 14
What does ratty Rosalyn look like?
When you mentioned Rosalyn's appearance
Nov 16
What’s the context for WT Muffet’s huge family?
Does Sans have a chicken in wraithtale?
Nov 17
Did the adults at the time know that Rosalyn was abusing Sans?
How does WT gaster feel about Henrietta?
Nov 20 - Would WTSans consider joining a sumo competition?
Nov 21
Personal head cannon for Rosalyn's appearance
Rosalyn’s appearance is pretty much a Ganguro Girl
Nov 22 - How does Henri react to Rosalyn’s presence?
Nov 25 - I’ve been thinking about WT Sans lately. Specifically his hair.
Nov 30 - Is WT Papyrus a better cook than his UT Counterpart?
Cryptolozoologist Frisk
Nov 17 - What does Gaster have to say about “anime is real”?
Nov 18 - Anime is Real Gang(?) shenanigan hcs?
Nov 19 - How is Sans during this anime is human history bonanza?
Convergence
Nov 1 - US Sans and UT Papyrus on a cooking show
Nov 2 - Do you think that UT Sans would be better at cooking?
Nov 3
If frisk got possessed by an evil spirit
If a Bitty Frisk came to the houses of each skelebro
Frisk from the Bitty AU coming to the skeletons
Shenanigans Bitty Frisk would get into with the boys
Overbearing Mother Hen Sans?
If someone stepped on Bitty Frisk
Are there any other canon characters that live there with them?
Nov 4
About that yandere convergence AU
Mother Hen vs "Mother Hen?"
Nov 5
How tall are the papyruses and sanses? Do any them have jobs?
How would Frisk react if there were too many skeletons?
What gifts do the skeleton boys give on Frisk’s birthday?
Nov 6
How do the skelebaes find time to spend with Frisk?
Planet Boned
Mr. Clumsy McDumsy Rad Mad Scientist Lad’s time in the void?
How would the skellies finally get Frisk out of Henri’s grasp?
Nov 17 - Do Ink and Error ever visit the convergence au?
Nov 18 - A potential obligatory beach episode
Nov 19
Beach shenanigans convergence au
Do the skeleton boys have cars or rides?
I don’t think Mettaton could squeeze Frisk into a swimsuit...
Skellies reaction to Metta yelling for Frisk, waving a swimsuit?
Nov 26
UT Papyrus and US Sans have a cooking contest…
How old are the skeleton boys and Frisk in human years?
Keepers of the Ruins
Nov 4 - Keeper of the Ruins AU is so cuuute!!
Nov 5 - Do the others ever pick Flowey up and run around with him?
Nov 6 - Can we have more shy kid Sans with Frisk?
Nov 16 - Can you go into more detail about Bravery and Sans?
Swapfell Lamias
Nov 17 - “So Lamia Sans abducts Frisk and takes her to his nest”...
Nov 19
May I humbly askef you for more SF Lamia hcs for Frans?
Oh, wait.... What if, lets say, bitty lamias?
Cleaved
Nov 27
I'm imagining an AU like Convergence…
The Cleaved AU could become very similar to Convergence
Cleaved Continued
Nov 28 - Yandere cleaved AU
Nov 30 - May I have some frantastically amazing cleaved HCs
Wraithtale Swap
Nov 4
What if WT Swap Frisk is hurt outside the mountain's boundaries?
Is there a hunt for the WT Swap wraiths now?
Nov 5
What are WT Swap Frisk's actions towards Sans' flirtations?
What happened after WT Swap Chara stopped beating Pap?
Nov 6
More about WT swap Sans refusal on hats
Does Rosalyn exist in the WT Swap?
Nov 14
I don't think Rosalyn should be included in WT Swap
What do WT Swap Papara do whenever they hang out?
WS Sans having a bully can either work out or not at all
Nov 16 - What would WT Swap Sans do to be Frisk's boyfriend?
Nov 17 - Does WT Swap Papyrus go too fast in relationships as well?
Nov 18
How’s Kris in WT swap???
If WS Toriel found out about Kris’ homelessness…
Nov 24 - If WS Kris is homeless and Toriel finds out…
Nov 27
If WS Frisk moved with Sans, would he dote on her all the time?
Does WT Swap Sans try to forcefully take Frisk back to his home?
Pure Underfell
Nov 1 - What started UF Sans’ underwear collection?
Nov 3
How was Asriel when it came to making friends?
Does Asriel have a Strong Superiority Complex?
Edge and Fell's relationship
The last thing Papyrus ever wants to do is hurt Chara
Nov 4
What's the relationship between their Papyrus and Undyne?
What would Sans do to get back at his brother?
Why did Papyrus join the Royal Guard to begin with?
Nov 5
Does Asriel pick on Chara in part because of his feelings?
What were Asriel and Chara doing that lead to her dying?
Is Flowey nicer because he feels bad about killing Chara?
Did Flowey help Frisk in part because she resembled Chara ?
Are the skelebros able to tell that they found Chara’s body?
Nov 6 - Was UF Sans still friends with UF Toriel?
Nov 14
UF Sans sympathizes greatly with UF Chara
A lot of things Papyrus did were actually to look after Sans
Nov 15
UF Papara's first time cuddling! I demand it!
If rumors were spread that Sans and Chara were having an affair…
How was Papyrus in the early stages of his relationship with Chara?
What were the thoughts of the Underground after learning the truth?
What did Papyrus do upon learning the truth behind Chara’s death?
Nov 16
Would Toriel and Asgore be hostile to anyone dating Chara?
What kind of dates would UF papara go to?
Do Asgore and Toriel also dislike Papyrus for his treatment of Asriel?
What if Frisk confessed first to FellSans?
Does Chara every try to talk to Pap about Asriel?
Nov 17
Toriel and Asgore took forgive and forget just a bit too literal
Did Frisk still agree to act as their ambassador?
Nov 19
How would Chara react to Papyrus confessing to her?
Do Toriel and Asgore see Sans "taking Chara away" as well?
Nov 21
Would UF Papyrus get Chara a small animal?
So UF Chara likes small animals? Could I get her...
Actually, Chara doesn’t live with the royal family
Nov 22
Would Flowey ever reset if it meant avoiding Toriel and Asgore?
Can we have happily married life Papara scenes?
UF Papyrus and his own Annoying dog stories? Please!
Head cannons for UF Papyrus and the Royal family's interactions?
Nov 23
Would Asgore & Toriel coax Frisk & Chara into trying other people?
How would the talk about the arranged dates go?
How did Asgore & Toriel find out about Chara’s relation with Pap?
If Royal family dinner is like that Shrek 2 scene then who’s Donkey?
Nov 24
What reason would Asgore & Toriel give when visiting Pap’s house?
Married life Papara parents edition?
Does Frisk ever worry that Sans might end up leaving her one day?
Drama between the royal family and the bone brothers
Nov 25 - Can we take a peek on UF (Frans/Papara) children?
Nov 26 - How would Edge handle it if Red actually DID die?
Nov 28 - Toriel & Asgore taking Chara in for personal gain revealed…
Nov 29 - Can I haz sum UF sick days HCs cuz I’m a little sick
Pure Underswap
Nov 1 - Do you think that Papyrus is the older brother?
Nov 2
Do you think Pap would at least try to convince US Chara to wear the shirt?
Would Frisk collapse from exhaustion from spending time with Sans?
Nov 5 - In the swap verses, who has the kitten sneeze?
Nov 20 - Would Pap get Chara a shirt related to bees or honey?
Nov 22 - Hypothetical scenario: US Frisk is drinking an energy drink…
Pure Swapfell
Nov 17
Swapfell sick days fluff
Swapfell, but the skeletons are sick headcanons?
Nov 18
Would Swapfell!Frisk’s death be similar to Fell!Frisk’s death?
Swapfell papara/frans headcanons?
Nov 24 - Do SF Asriel & Chara have a better relationship than in UF?
Nov 25
Can we get some Swapfell head cannons?
Does Asriel feel jealous when Chara spends time with Papyrus?
SF Chasriel hcs? and maybe a little SFChara too?
How does Pap respond to Asriel's jealousy towards him?
------------------------------------------------------
Meep
0 notes
Note
Fic prompt: lxc pretends to be lwj. For a day? To fool... somebody? For fun?
…just run away.
Lan Xichen was not often given to bad moods. On the contrary, he had always been praised for having a sunny outlook and a pleasant demeanor, and it had become something he prided himself on. He preferred to greet people with a smile; even when he was insulted, he preferred to let it roll off his back, knowing it would never harm him. It was very hard for mere words to affect him – to get under his skin.
Unfortunately, irritating words appeared to be the one area in which Nie Huaisang excelled.
Nie Huaisang had come to Gusu for help with a problem at the most inconvenient moment, sobbing his heart as he always did, and Lan Xichen had had to send a letter to Jin Guangyao explaining that he would likely be unable to make their appointment as a result. It had been especially annoying because he’d hoped to use the opportunity to give Jin Guangyao a book for his birthday, which Lan Xichen would be forced to miss the date this year due to certain responsibilities at his sect; he’d mentioned in his letter that he would ask Lan Wangji, now more than a year out of his ‘seclusion’, to bring the book instead.
He hadn’t expected Lan Wangji to refuse outright to even consider going to Lanling.
Still, none of that was enough to seriously bring him down, and his mood cheered up even more when he realized that Nie Huaisang’s problem, which had been held out as the sort of sobbing, gasping, threatening to die type of problem, was in fact easily solved. That in turn meant that, if he hurried, he would likely be able to make to his appointment with Jin Guangyao – a few shichen late, yes, but it was better than not going at all.
He’d just been finishing up tea with Nie Huaisang, thinking happily about what a surprise his unexpected appearance would be for his sworn brother, when Nie Huaisang had said –
That.
Lan Xichen didn’t even remember how the conversation had gotten to that point, only that Nie Huaisang had been laughing, face bright and happy, when he’d said it.
“I wish I was more like er-ge, not concerned of what other people think; I take you as my role model! It would be so much nicer to think that whenever I encountered any serious problems, I would just run away!”
Just run away.
The words were like a thorn under his skin.
“What makes you say that?” he’d asked, fighting and failing to maintain his smile, not that Nie Huaisang noticed.
“Well, isn’t that what you always do?” Nie Huaisang asked, his eyes wide and innocent; he was still a child, even after years of sitting in the sect master’s seat. “You ran away after the Cloud Recesses to save the books, you ran from one place to another during the war, you ran away when da-ge died –”
Nie Huaisang had been sitting in Nie Mingjue’s favorite place, wearing clothing that looked just like Nie Mingjue’s, drinking from the tea cup that Nie Mingjue had liked, and he’d said that.
Lan Xichen had gone to get help, to find medicine, to do something. He hadn’t run away.
It wasn’t – it wasn’t running, during the war. He’d been a courier, taking news from one place to another; the Lan sect had been rallied to war very effectively by Lan Wangji, and he hadn’t wanted to step on his brother’s glory. It had been useful, necessary…
He had run away when the Cloud Recesses burned, though. He hadn’t wanted to, but his uncle had begged him to prioritize the saving of their sect’s most fundamental treasures.
Maybe that’s why it bothered him so much.
Nie Huaisang had moved on shortly thereafter, nattering about his birds; he hadn’t even noticed how effectively his words had stabbed Lan Xichen – but that was Nie Huaisang in a nutshell, wasn’t it?
Lan Xichen had taken his leave shortly thereafter and headed to Lanling, but it was still bothering him.
He kept going back to it, turning it over and over again in his mind, indignation warring with guilt; as a result, he wasn’t smiling the way he typically did when he landed at the entrance to Koi Tower.
It was also why he didn’t notice at first that people had started calling out “Lan-er-gongzi” to him instead of addressing him as Sect Leader Lan or Zewu-jun, just absent-mindedly nodding at them as he swept past the gateway and headed inside on paths he knew well.
He was already halfway to his destination when he realized – they thought he was Lan Wangji.
Lan Wangji, who’d already developed a reputation for having, and this was a direct quote Lan Xichen had overheard, “a bitter facial expression that made him look as though his wife had passed away.”
(Lan Xichen hadn’t liked hearing that. It was all the worse because it was true.)
It wasn’t actually funny – Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji looked alike, yes, but not that much – but at this point Lan Xichen was so desperate to think of something other than Nie Huaisang’s irritating words (just run away) that he seized on it at once, deliberately arranging his face in something a little like Lan Wangji’s cold-faced glare.
It was childish of him, of course. But wouldn’t it be even more of a surprise for Jin Guangyao, to come in with a resigned polite expression (he’d never understood why Lan Wangji so disliked him) and then to find the person he’d actually hoped to see? It would make him smile, and Lan Xichen could give him the book in person and apologize yet again for missing his birthday…
Yes, it would be perfect. Jin Guangyao’s joy would be the ideal balm for Lan Xichen’s unexpectedly hurt feelings.
Lan Xichen felt positively mischievous, even a little wicked. He hadn’t played a prank on anyone in years, certainly before the war started –
(Just run away.)
He wasn’t going to think about that.
Lan Xichen made it to the Fragrant Palace – it had been years now that it belonged to Jin Guangyao, since he had taken the place of sect leader, and yet it still seemed as though it were his ‘new’ quarters – and nodded to one of the door guards, announcing, “I will wait for Lianfeng-zun inside,” in a way he would never have done if he weren’t pretending to be Lan Wangji.
Of course, once inside, he found himself with a dilemma: the Fragrant Palace was a classic building, full of servants and Jin sect cultivators, any one of which could catch Lan Xichen in an unguarded moment and ruin the whole surprise. If only there was a better place to hide…
The bronze mirror in the corner caught Lan Xichen’s eye and he pressed his lips together to hide his amusement. He couldn’t do that.
Hiding in another sect leader’s treasure room would be offensive, after all, a trespass – though Jin Guangyao was always saying that Lan Xichen was welcome anywhere he was. And he could do it; after all, it had been he himself who had taught Jin Guangyao the trick of how to enter…no, he shouldn’t.
A high-pitched voice travelled through the hallway, and Lan Xichen abruptly remember that Jin Guangyao wasn’t the only person with free access to the Fragrant Palace – his wife, Qin Su, was equally the mistress here, and worst of all it seemed like she was heading straight towards the room he was in.
(It wasn’t that Lan Xichen didn’t like Qin Su – it was that she didn’t like him, her smile fading a little every time she saw him. He couldn’t hold it against her: it had been to Lan Xichen that Jin Guangyao had turned for comfort after the death of their child, not his wife, and Lan Xichen had indulged his sworn brother in his grief when he should have reminded him not to leave his wife to grieve alone. Lan Xichen was a painful reminder of that painful time, now, and he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to see him.)
Jin Guangyao would understand and forgive a small trespass, Lan Xichen decided. It would be easier to explain a little thing like that than to have deal with the fallout of making Qin Su cry again.
The mirror worked the way it always did, and he stepped through –
There was a blank period in Lan Xichen’s memories after that.
It was as if his brain had simply stopped working, refusing to accept the evidence his eyes were presenting him with. The sight filling his eyes, the smell filling his nose even through the scented incense that filled the treasure room, the feeling in his fingers as he lifted them to touch the cheek he remembered so well –
By the time the haze that had fallen upon him had lifted, Lan Xichen was far away from Lanling.
He wasn’t sure where he was – he vaguely recalled, as if remembering the actions of another person, that he had staggered out of the treasure room and gone to the window, leaping onto Shuoyue and flying straight out of Lanling in violation of all prohibitions on using a sword within city limits.
He hadn’t had a direction to his chaotic flight, he’d only been desperate to –
To run away.
I’ll do what er-ge does, and just run away – isn’t that what you always do?
He was still clutching Nie Mingjue’s head in his arms.
His da-ge, his friend – he should have been buried safely in Qinghe. Under Nie Huaisang’s lax supervision, yes, but still, he should be there. Not – not in pieces.
Not in Lanling, like some sort of sick trophy.
Trophy.
A-Yao, his A-Yao, he’d – was it just grave-robbing? Some sort of perverse triumph over Nie Mingjue, who had only ever wanted the best for him even if he were not very good at showing it? After all, Nie Mingjue had died of a qi deviation, in public, there could be no question…
He’d died in Lanling.
He’d been speaking to Jin Guangyao before he died, and his final rage had been aimed at him, and –
And Jin Guangyao liked to keep trophies.
Lan Xichen had always known this, of course, but it had been little things: wanting to pin up a flag from a battle he’d helped win, keeping letters of old correspondences, things like that. Not – not like this.
Lan Xichen’s mind was rebelling against him.
His A-Yao – Nie Mingjue was his sworn brother. He couldn’t have –
He could.
It wasn’t like he didn’t know all the things Jin Guangyao had done, after all. It was only that he’d always believed that there was a reason behind them, some justification that made sense.
Just run away. Isn’t that what you always do?
Nie Huaisang’s innocent words had been right. Lan Xichen ran away: from the facts, from the truth. He blinded himself because he didn’t want to believe it.
He couldn’t run away this time.
Nie Mingjue’s head is in his arms, but Lan XIchen can feel the pulse of resentful energy already – his sworn brother had died a violent death, betrayed by someone he should have been able to trust; there was no soul-calming ritual in the world that would keep him from becoming a fierce ghost. The head was already straining in his arms, as if seeking to fly off, seeking –
The other pieces.
Nie Mingjue’s soul was still there, divided into pieces and bound; Lan Xichen recognized the horrific array that had been painted on him. It was vile, ghastly, an abomination.
It called for an answer.
No, there would be no running away this time.
At least Jin Guangyao would have no choice but to confront Lan Xichen this time, now that he knew that Lan Xichen knew –
Lan Xichen’s entire body gave a sudden start, and a chill filled his heart.
He didn’t know.
Jin Guangyao – Lan Xichen had been pretending to be Lan Wangji, hadn’t he? He’d hidden Shuoyue’s hilt, he’d mimicked his brother’s expression, he’d wanted to give Jin Guangyao a surprise…
Jin Guangyao, who Lan Wangji had never liked and who had never especially liked Lan Wangji in turn, would have no reason to think Lan Xichen knew.
He would think Lan Wangji knew.
And after all, they had comforted each other over the death of one brother – why not another?
Lan Xichen had put Lan Wangji into terrible danger.
He had to find his brother.
He had to find him right now.
554 notes
·
View notes
Note
If you're still doing prompts: Nie MingJue has a kid. IDK how this affects anything else, but the kid loves A-Yuan whenever they meet while Xichen and HuiSang spoil them relentlessly.
Lan Xichen admired the world for its diversity: how different lands had different accents, different foods, different melodies, different customs, different superstitions – the differences added color to the world and made it more interesting. After all, without differences, how would anyone ever know that the sweet smoothness of Gusu’s Emperor’s Smile paired beautifully with the spicy food prepared in Yunmeng, or that the nasal intonations of Lanling were pleasantly charming when put against his favorite childhood songs?
Still, there were some cultural idiosyncrasies that, admittedly, he thought had less merit than others.
Qinghe’s notorious reluctance to share personal information, for instance.
It was one thing when it was not knowing exactly how old a person was, or what their given name was, or things like that – it was another thing to find out, well…
“Did you know about this?” Lan Xichen asked Jin Guangyao in an undertone, even though the dumbstruck expression didn’t give him much hope. “You were his deputy, once…”
“You’re his childhood friend,” Jin Guangyao pointed out. “And you didn’t know.”
“Well, yes, but that’s outside the sect, whereas you were a guest disciple…never mind. It’s not important.”
“Not important?”
“It isn’t.” Lan Xichen straightened and moved forward, waving to get Nie Mingjue’s attention from where he was yelling at Nie Huaisang, much to the evidence pleasure of the baby in his arms. “Da-ge, your child is beautiful.”
“Is she?” Nie Mingjue asked, glancing down at the infant with a frown. “How can you tell, under all those layers? All babies look the same to me.”
Lan Xichen found himself smiling in amusement. It was good to know that Nie Mingjue hadn’t changed in personality, even if – even if –
“I must admit I hadn’t known that you were expecting a child,” he blurted out. “Or that you, uh…”
“Were capable of carrying one?” Nie Huaisang asked innocently – a bit too innocently, the brat; he’d obviously known that his elder brother was, physiologically speaking, an elder sister.
It wasn’t as if Lan Xichen wasn’t aware that Qinghe had a tradition of recognizing what they called ‘misaligned reincarnations’, a male soul accidentally reincarnating in a woman’s body or a woman in a man’s or even something else altogether; it was only that he’d thought he would have noticed it.
Apparently not, given the casual way his sworn brother had been feeding the child earlier.
“Er-ge is right: she really is quite beautiful,” Jin Guangyao said, coming close with a smile. His fingers reached for her, then paused. “Take it from one that knows, da-ge; I’ve seen plenty of babies before – she has very auspicious features.”
Nie Mingjue snorted. “I’d rather she had auspicious meridians, but it’s too early to tell…why do you keep twitching like that? Do you want to hold her or something? Just take her already.”
Jin Guangyao found himself with a baby in his arms and a surprised expression, albeit one that quickly faded into a smile that seemed a bit more sincere than the previous one. Lan Xichen wished his sworn brother wouldn’t feel the need to put up a façade with everyone. “Oh! She’s very light…how old is she?”
“Old enough,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug, and there was that Qinghe reticence again. ‘Old enough’ probably meant she’d had her first month birthday. “We’re just calling her Baobei until we think of a name.”
Of course they hadn’t thought of a name. The Nie were hopeless. Nie Mingjue in specific; Nie Huaisang probably had lists of names.
“Does she…” Jin Guangyao started to ask, then stopped. At Nie Mingjue’s irritated expression he coughed. “You’ll have to forgive my unfamiliarity with how it works under the circumstances – is she surnamed Nie? Or do you use her father’s…?”
Nie Huaisang’s face spasmed in something that vaguely resembled rage for the half-second it took for him to hide it behind a fan, which Lan Xichen didn’t understand and which made Jin Guangyao frown.
“No father,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s surnamed Nie, nothing else.”
“Not as if we’ve left much of the other side alive,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, and – oh. That’s why he was angry.
That was a very good reason to be angry.
Jin Guangyao abruptly turned as white as a sheet, which made Nie Mingjue reach over and catch him by the shoulders with a frown, saying, “Meng Yao, if you drop my infant child, I will drop you off the walls. Do you know how much effort it takes to get one of these? Quite literally a pain in the ass.”
Lan Xichen had been about to say something – he didn’t know what, but something necessary to vent the emotions in his heart – and it was all abruptly cut off by the sudden swell of amusement; Nie Mingjue’s sense of humor had always been like that, a perfect deadpan that you only belatedly realized was deliberately making fun.
“Let me hold her,” he said instead, and accepted the small child into his arms. She mostly looked annoyed with all the jostling, the tiny little scowl already demonstrating her Nie heritage. He hoped for her sake that all her features were the same. “Da-ge, you really don’t leave any room for the rest of us to compete with you, do you? You took first place in Phoenix Mountain even though you must have already had this little one in tow.”
“Don’t think too highly of me,” Nie Mingjue said. “I hadn’t even noticed at that point, though it was late enough that I probably should have...anyway, I didn’t take first. They only said that because they didn’t want to give it to the Jiang sect.”
“You were about equal with a third each,” Jin Guangyao said. He was still too pale, still upset; Lan Xichen didn’t blame him. Especially since it had been his plan that had…still, it was evident Nie Mingjue had no interest in discussing it, and it was better to follow his lead.
“About equal is still second place. There weren’t any rules against using demonic cultivation.”
“There will be now,” Jin Guangyao said. “Although I suppose it’s unnecessary, with Wei Wuxian now holed up in Yiling.”
Nie Huaisang hummed from behind his fan. “Didn’t Lan-er-gongzi go to Yiling recently?” he asked, almost purposefully casual. “What did he think of it?”
Lan Xichen blinked. Nie Huaisang was getting at something, but he didn’t know what – the Nie sect hadn’t made any statements about what had happened with Wei Wuxian in the immediate aftermath, something rather uncharacteristic of them. He supposed, looking down at the babe in his arms and calculating time since Nie Mingjue’s capture at Yangquan, he now knew why: they had been preoccupied.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “He didn’t say much, though I think he was pleased to see that Wei-gongzi was doing well.”
“He didn’t encounter any issues?”
“Issues? No. What sort of issues?”
“Oh, I don’t know. We all know how righteous Hanguang-jun is. If there was something fishy going on, he would have felt the need to act, wouldn’t he?”
Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes, clearly understanding better than they did what Nie Huaisang was getting at. “You just want to get more baby presents.”
“Baobei deserves all the presents,” Nie Huaisang agreed peaceably. “But she also deserves peace of mind, don’t you think?”
“It’s never too early to think about the future, da-ge,” Jin Guangyao agreed. “If you leave relatives outside, you never know when they might come to make trouble.”
Lan Xichen’s heart gave a pang: Jin Guangyao had been one of those relatives from the outside once, and he knew it still pained him even though he was now safely recognized as his father’s son.
“We can go with you, assuming you want her to meet them,” he offered. He wasn’t entirely sure whether Nie Huaisang and Jin Guangyao were suggesting meeting the remaining Wen sect members or implying that Nie Mingjue should simply put the remaining Wens to death to avoid having to deal with any problems, but he figured it was better to simply pretend they meant the nicer option. “It’s bad luck not to honor relatives, if there are ones that you can tolerate. Anyway, I don’t believe even the Yiling Patriarch could stand up against all of us – or that Wei-gongzi would, if we came with a child to meet her relatives.”
“I’ll think about it,” Nie Mingjue allowed. “If they really are all old people and children, non-participants, it wouldn’t be a problem to recognize them to some extent. It’s better to have more cousins rather than less, after all.”
Lan Xichen recalled a brief reference his brother had made to a child he’d encountered at Yiling – how close it had been with Wei Wuxian, who was infamously rabid in the defense of those he considered family no matter what official pretense had to be put about between him and the Jiang sect.
“I think,” he said, “that that’s an excellent idea.”
#mdzs#nie mingjue#jin guangyao#meng yao#lan xichen#nie huaisang#trans!NMJ#tw: implied rape#my fic#my fics#padawan-lightningstarborne#baby da-ge#baby dage
540 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Sunday 11th: Free spot - Age/role reversal, where Nie Huaisang is the oldest with a bratty little brother, while Lan Xichen is the sweet and happy Second Jade of Gusu Lan
This will be a two parter at minimum and the role reversal won’t come up until part two oops
Also on AO3
Inside Lan Qiren's office, Nie Huaisang bowed deeply before the renowned teacher.
"I leave my brother in your capable hands," he said, before turning to Lan Wangji and bowing again. "Please, make sure he doesn't create troubles. I trust your judgement in these matters, so punish him if need be."
Next to him Nie Mingjue scoffed, as only a boy unused to discipline could. Nie Huaisang, who was the entire reason his brother often came off as a stubborn brat, sighed. The Lans would have a lot of work with that one.
Lan Xichen, who had been standing behind his brother, stepped aside to grab Nie Mingjue's arm, smiling brightly.
"I'll make sure he behaves," he promised. "If he does anything bad, I'll tell Brother and Uncle."
"Xichen-ge!" Nie Mingjue cried out, betrayed. "I thought we were friends!"
"We are, but Nie zongzhu trusts us. Don't you, Nie zongzhu?"
"I trust you most of all," Nie Huaisang said, amused as always by this too earnest second master of Gusu Lan. He almost laughed when Lan Xichen's face turned bright pink at his comment. It was always fun to compliment those Lans. "Lan Er-gongzi, please take good care of my little brother. I know you will be a good influence on him."
Lan Xichen preened, until Nie Mingjue elbowed him in the ribs for this betrayal. This time, Nie Huaisang really couldn't help laughing. He exchanged a glance with Lan Wangji who also looked amused, in his own manner, while Lan Qiren just sighed and dismissed the two boys so grown-ups could speak in peace. Well, two grown-ups and Lan Wangji, who wasn't quite nineteen yet, but often behaved as if he were already in his seventies or more.
"How are things in Qinghe?" Lan Qiren asked, inviting his guest to sit while Lan Wangji served tea for both of them.
"Better these days," Nie Huaisang confessed. "We haven't had another plot against us since that last time. I think everyone is coming to term with me being in charge until Mingjue comes of age… And five more years isn't so much to wait."
Lan Qiren nodded, knowing as well as Nie Huaisang what that sort of waiting felt like. Though of course, the circumstances were different.
Lan Qiren's place within Gusu Lan could never have been contested, while Nie Huaisang was only the talentless son of a dancer turned concubine. On the other hand, Nie Huaisang would be truly free in five years, when his father's true heir could be crowned sect leader, while the best Lan Qiren could hope for was that in eighteen months Lan Wangji would become more involved in sect affairs, but Lan Qiren would remain regent unless his brother decided otherwise.
Although Nie Huaisang got along well with Lan Qiren who was little more than a decade his senior, he was close friend with Lan Wangji who was only a few years younger. And so, for the sake of his younger friend's wellbeing, he hoped Qingheng-Jun would continue leaving the burden of power on Lan Qiren's shoulders. Lan Wangji deserved to have a free youth, or at least as free as his temper allowed.
"How long is Nie zongzhu staying?" Lan Wangji asked, sounding hopeful. Or at least, Nie Huaisang gathered he was hopeful, he could be so hard to read.
"I really only came to drop Mingjue," Nie Huaisang sighed. "Things are more stable, but I'd be a fool to stay away too long. But you must come visit me, Wangji. We haven't chatted in so long, you really must. I'm even willing to go on a Night Hunt if need be."
A near smile appeared on Lan Wangji’s face at that offer, both of them knowing what it cost Nie Huaisang to say such a thing, but also that he really would if it was the only way to see his friend.
-
It had not been the worst Night Hunt Nie Huaisang had ever been on, mostly because he'd let Lan Wangji do all the work. In exchange, he was the one paying all the expanses, and so had dragged Lan Wangji into a nicer inn than his friend would have picked. Someone had to spoil Lan Wangji, and Nie Huaisang was happy to do it. He hadn't managed yet to convince his friend to have a little meat, but the night was still young, and it was just the two of them since they'd requested to have their dinner served in their room. In private, Lan Wangji occasionally relaxed a little more.
"So, I hear Mingjue’s making friends?" Nie Huaisang said, pouring himself some wine. "Those Yunmeng boys?"
"Jiang gongzi," Lan Wangji confirmed. "They have frequent arguments. They always make up."
"It's good he's met someone with a temper to match his own," Nie Huaisang laughed. "Xichen lets him get away with too much. He writes to me, you know?"
"Nie gongzi?"
Nie Huaisang shook his head. "Mingjue wouldn't write to me if his life depended on it, the brat. No, I meant Xichen. That boy is adorable, he took it so seriously when I asked him to take care of Mingjue, and now he gives me updates. Wangji, you have the best brother, I want to trade."
"Hm. No."
"How selfish!" Nie Huaisang whined. "Just you wait, in five years I'm free! I'll seduce Xichen, get him to the Unclean Realm with me… Then he can make sure Mingjue behaves, while I'll be painting all day."
Lan Wangji rolled his eyes, before taking a sip of tea.
"Oh don't worry, you wouldn't be left alone," Nie Huaisang said with a wide grin. "Maybe Wei Wuxian could be convinced to stay in the Cloud Recesses?"
Instantly, Lan Wangji spit his tea on the table, glaring at Nie Huaisang who howled with laughter.
"Huaisang!"
"Blame your brother! He's the one who told me about it. I thought he was joking, but… Seriously, Wei Wuxian? Ah, Wangji, you'll always surprise me."
Lan Wangji's glare intensified, as if the very idea of him liking anything about a brat like Wei Wuxian were an insult to his character. It would have been more credible if Nie Huaisang hadn't known his tell, and noticed his red ears.
"He's smart, and talented," Nie Huaisang noted, a little more seriously. "A brat, sure, but he'll calm down with age. I can't say he's my type physically, but you're entitled to your bad tastes."
"A sect leader can't marry a man," Lan Wangji sternly noted.
Nie Huaisang shot him a surprised look, shocked that Lan Wangji would even be thinking of something so serious. He would have to write to Lan Xichen about this. If Lan Wangji's crush was this deep already, they needed to help along. Propriety didn't matter much in the long run, Nie Huaisang had learned early.
And besides, there was always Lan Xichen to give heirs to the Lan sect.
-
Discussion conferences were never much fun. Those held in Nightless City, even less so. Nie Huaisang hated most other sect leaders, though he felt justified in that by the fact they didn’t like him much either, with the exception of Lan Qiren, who was an old family friend, and Jiang Fengmian, who was too weak willed to hate anyone. Everyone else treated Nie Huaisang like an idiot for his continued insistence that he would abdicate in favour of his brother as soon as Nie Mingjue was ready for it, never understanding that aside from his lack of interest for the job of sect leader, he would merely be obeying his father’s own wishes.
Nie Mingjue was their father’s true heir, Nie Huaisang’s only role was keeping the throne warm for him.
Of course nobody except Lan Qiren would understand that. A bunch of greedy, selfish fools the whole lot of them, who would have sold their own fathers and sons to grab a little more power. The worst, by far, were Jin Guangshan (who’d always taken the old Nie sect leader for an idiot, since he would never have recognised a bastard, let alone married the whore who bore it) and Wen Ruohan (who rumour said had murdered his own father indeed, and who had certainly killed Nie Huaisang’s, something for which he’d pay someday). If either of those two dropped dead before him, Nie Huaisang would only have laughed and left them to rot in the sun.
Which wasn’t to say that either of them knew that.
Nie Huaisang hadn’t survived years of internal conflict in his sect without learning a few things, and so he made sure to be especially polite to those two very powerful men. It annoyed Nie Mingjue to no end, but he wasn’t sect leader yet and couldn’t do anything about it.
And so, Nie Huaisang had to pleasantly talk with those two awful men while the juniors of all sects took part in an archery contest. It wasn’t Nie Mingjue’s greatest strength, but he did well for himself, so Nie Huaisang was determined to congratulate and praise him for his hard work. Meanwhile, Wen Chao had failed horribly and been eliminated very early on, which delighted Nie Huaisang more than words could have said, even if he forced himself to babble that surely it couldn’t have been anything but bad luck. Not that anyone really cared, anyway. The stars of the day were the Twin Jades of Gusu Lan and Wei Wuxian, who had done so well and would have been in the top three together, if not for some incident forcing Lan Wangji to give up.
When the contest was over, Nie Huaisang rushed to go meet his brother and his friends, eager to congratulate the boys… and to escape the grown-ups.
It amused him to find Nie Mingjue having an argument with Jiang Cheng, with Wei Wuxian laughing to the side and Lan Xichen watching them indulgently, like a benevolent older brother to those three terrors. And out of the four of them, Lan Xichen was the first to spot Nie Huaisang approaching.
“Nie zongzhu, were you looking for your brother?” he asked with a bow that the Yunmeng boys imitated. “Did you see how well he did in the contest?”
“Very well indeed,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “Though I found myself mostly watching you. I knew Lan Er-gongzi was a skilled archer, but this was amazing. I wouldn’t be surprised if the heavens had opened to welcome you as a martial god, you were simply brilliant.”
As always, Lan Xichen blushed at the heavy praise, which was the very reason Nie Huaisang did it. That boy always reacted so strongly to any little compliment, it was simply a joy to see.
Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes, and slapped his brother’s shoulder.
“You’re such an embarrassment, Da-Ge,” he muttered. “Can’t you behave normally sometimes?”
“Did I say something wrong? Lan Er-gongzi, did you feel insulted perhaps?”
“Not in the least,” Lan Xichen replied, his cheeks turning a brighter shade of pink. “But perhaps Nie zongzhu is… a little too generous in praising me. I only got the first place because Brother had to quit. Otherwise, he would have won for sure.”
“Second place wouldn’t be bad either,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “And having a calm character in the face of adversity is a quality in and of itself, one that I envy. Lan Er-gongzi just needs to accept that he is a very skilled young man. He wouldn’t have been picked as the first most eligible bachelor of this generation otherwise!”
This was, without a doubt, the brightest shade of red that Nie Huaisang had ever seen on poor Lan Xichen who clearly felt greatly embarrassed by that list that had started circulating some months earlier. It was a fairly accurate list though, and one Nie Huaisang could have written… except he would have placed his brother higher (seventh only was an insult) and removed himself from it (he was eighth only because of his current position as sect leader, and did not intend to ever marry if he could avoid it).
"You're such a creepy old man," Nie Mingjue grumbled, elbowing him in the ribs with more force than was really necessary.
"Nie zongzhu isn't old, he's only twenty two, right?" Lan Xichen protested, before turning to the Yunmeng boys who had been watching them with great amusement. "That's not so much older than the rest of us, right?”
“It’s barely older than our sister,” Jiang Cheng conceded, always trying so hard to be polite even when it did not come to him easily. Nie Huaisang really hoped some of that would rub on Nie Mingjue over time.
“So it’s settled, Nie zongzhu is not old at all,” Lan Xichen decided. “Nie zongzhu should really spend more time with us, instead of other sect leaders.”
While Nie Huaisang couldn’t help laughing at that very tempting offer, Nie Mingjue glared at his friend. For some reason, Lan Xichen turned bright red once more and had to look away. Ah, he really was too cute, none of the other Lans were ever so sweet.
“I’d do so gladly, if I truly had a choice, but duty is a cruel mistress,” Nie Huaisang theatrically sighed. “In fact, I’ll abandon you again now. I only wanted to get a chance to congratulate all of you for your amazing performance. You’ve all done very well, and I feel lucky to have seen such talented young men perform like this. Now though, I must return to sit with boring old men and pretend there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
The four boys had the kindness of pretending they were disappointed to see him leave. At least, three of them had to be pretending. Lan Xichen was sweet enough that he might have been sincere in saying he wished Nie Huaisang could have stayed, though Nie Huaisang had no doubt they’d all have much better fun without him.
Ah, to be young and free.
Nie Huaisang wondered what that was like.
-
The news of the burning of the Cloud Recesses reached the Unclean Realm a few days after it happened, carrying with it grim rumours. Qingheng-Jun was either wounded or dead, his eldest son captured or dead as well, and as for the youngest, no one seemed to really know. Maybe he too was dead, leaving only poor Lan Qiren to pick up the pieces, as he had already done more than once now. If the political climate had not been so tense and the Wens so clearly looking for excuses to attack everyone, Nie Huaisang would have flown straight to the Cloud Recesses to check what had really happened and offer his support.
Just days after they heard about the Lans, a messenger came from Qishan Wen, ordering that twenty young people of Qinghe Nie should be sent to be taught properly in cultivation matters, among which one at least needed to be from the main clan itself.
Nie Huaisang, who was no fool, understood what that truly meant. The Wens wanted to have his brother in his power.
His first instinct, of course, was to refuse. He hadn’t spent six years protecting Nie Mingjue from coups and attacks within their sects just to hand him over to the people who had murdered their father, the ones who Nie Huaisang suspected to have supported at least one or two of those coups. And yet, after thinking on it for a few hours, Nie Huaisang realised that this choice, like many others, wasn’t quite in his hands. So he summoned his brother to the throne room, hoping that treating this like official sect business would make Nie Mingjue a little more willing to bend to his authority.
It did not quite work.
In fact, it did not work at all.
"I'm not letting you send me there as a hostage!" Nie Mingjue roared when Nie Huaisang announced his decision.
"I'm your sect leader and your elder brother,” Nie Huaisang pointed out, trying not to wince. This was going exactly as bad as he had feared. “If I give you an order, you have to obey."
"Some sect leader you are," Nie Mingjue snapped. "Always bending before everyone, trying to stay on the good side of the man who murdered our father. If I were sect leader…"
"Well you're not, not yet. And you'll never be unless I keep you alive!" Nie Huaisang shouted, before taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Mingjue, just because nobody has tried to kill me recently doesn't mean they've given up on it. If I resist Wen Ruohan and start a war, they'll turn on me, on us! And even if they don't, who would side with us against the Wens? Jin Guangshan covets our territories, the Lans are weakened, and Jiang Fengmian doesn't have the numbers to be of any use. Qinghe Nie is alone. We're alone, Mingjue. Please understand that. Please let me protect you."
Nie Mingjue glared at him and stepped closer. He’d grown a lot recently, and was slightly taller than Nie Huaisang. He was likely to keep growing, too, and would probably be as imposing a man as their father… if he stayed alive long enough for it.
Nie Huaisang begged any god that might be listening to keep his brother alive.
"Protect me?” Nie Mingjue spat, looking down at his older brother. “Are you sure you're not just sending me there to get killed by the Wens, so you don't have to pretend anymore that you'll abdicate in my favour? After all you've gotten so good at leading the sect, and I'm just a brat, who'd blame you for wanting me dead?"
Nie Huaisang slapped him.
It wasn't a strong blow, and with their difference in cultivation and power, it couldn't have hurt much. In fact, Nie Huaisang’s hand probably stung more than his brother’s face. Still Nie Mingjue found himself stunned into silence and pressed a hand to his cheek.
No matter how bratty, headstrong, or disrespectful he'd been before, Nie Huaisang had never once hit him until that day. At the same time, Nie Mingjue had always taken his brother's defence whenever someone accused Nie Huaisang of plotting for power, knowing full well how much it distressed his brother that anyone would think him capable of harming Nie Mingjue.
"I hate you," Nie Mingjue hissed.
"Hate me if you like, you're still going to Qishan," Nie Huaisang replied.
"If you were a real sect leader, a real cultivator…"
"Well I'm neither!" Nie Huaisang exploded. "I don't have the strength to start a war, and I even less have the power to fight in one! In four years, when you sit on that damn throne, you can declare all the wars you like, lead this sect however it pleases you! But until then it's me who decides how we're playing this game, and I say we are not going to give Qishan Wen an excuse to slaughter all of us!"
"I really hate you," Nie Mingjue retorted, still rubbing his cheek. "I wish your mother had never come to Qinghe."
"I wish the same. I'd rather have been the obscure son of a whore than to lead this stupid sect for you. Now go and pack your things! I need to decide who else I'm sending."
Nie Mingjue stormed away, cursing loudly and stomping his feet. Nie Huaisang waited until his brother was far enough, and collapsed on the throne, curling up on himself to cry.
He could have taken the whole world accusing him of scheming and being a bad brother. Even if Lan Wangji or those few Nie elders faithful to him had suddenly turned on him, he could have borne with it. But to hear that Nie Mingjue too doubted him after all was more than he could take.
It took him a long time to calm down, but he did eventually. And then, as he was quite used to doing, he pushed aside his feelings and set out to decide what would be the best way to protect his brother. Nie Huaisang stayed up all night making a list of nineteen Nie disciples who could be trusted to keep Nie Mingjue safe not simply from whatever the Wens had in store for them, but also from his own temper.
His brother would survive this.
Nie Huaisang refused to consider any other possibilities.
-
When Nie Mingjue and the other disciples returned, exhausted and on foot, Nie Huaisang ran to his brother and hugged him in the middle of the courtyard for an embarrassingly long time. It alarmed him when Nie Mingjue didn’t push him away or complain, as he’d started doing over any displays of affection these last couple of years. Instead, Nie Mingjue pulled his brother closer to him, as if needing the closeness as well. Later Nie Huaisang would worry about what might have caused this big boy of nearly seventeen to so desperately need a hug, but right then he just took this rare gift and enjoyed it while it lasted.
When at last Nie Mingjue reluctantly let him go, Nie Huaisang looked around at the other disciples. He frowned when he counted two missing, when he saw wounds on several of them. These boys were his, almost as much as Nie Mingjue, and it made his blood boil that anyone had harmed them. He quickly gave orders for the healers to check on them and food to be served for them, before dragging his brother to the privacy of his quarters to hear what had happened.
It worried him again when he sat on his sofa, and Nie Mingjue not only sat near him but curled up against his side, the way he used to do as a little boy.
Then his brother explained everything that had happened, the punishments, the threats, the slaughter in that cave, the monster, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian being lost to the world perhaps, the long run home, and… Nie Huaisang pulled his brother as close as he could. They both knew better than most how carelessly cruel Qishan Wen could be, but this was a new low.
“I shouldn’t have sent you,” Nie Huaisang whispered against his brother’s hair. “You were right, I shouldn’t have.”
“They’d have attacked us, like you said,” Nie Mingjue replied. “Wangji-ge said that they were well prepared when they came to the Cloud Recesses and would have killed all of them if Lan Qiren hadn't given in about burning the library.”
“We’re not Gusu Lan,” Nie Huaisang hissed. “We know how to fight back. I shouldn’t have risked you, I’m so sorry.”
Nie Mingjue only hummed in answer. After a moment he pulled back from his brother, looking horrifyingly serious.
“Da-Ge, do you think we’ll really have a war now?”
“If they attack us, we’ll defend ourselves,” Nie Huaisang replied. “If they attack our friends, we’ll come to help them. If they attack the Jins… I’ll send Wen Ruohan a basket of flowers in thanks, and then we’ll still prepare for war. I don’t think it can be avoided now.”
Nie Mingjue nodded. “I’ll help. I’ll fight, I’ll lead men, I’ll do anything you tell me. Anything except stay away from the fight,” he quickly added before Nie Huaisang could say a thing. “I’m not too young for it, and with their numbers you know we can’t spare anyone. If Wen Chao is standing at his father’s side, why shouldn't I stand at yours?"
The idea of Nie Mingjue in battle, of him facing not just monsters but actual people capable of far more harm than any supernatural creature, left Nie Huaisang breathless with horror. His little brother shouldn't have had to deal with that, not yet, not ever. Nie Huaisang’s soul screamed in protest.
Most of his soul, anyway.
The part of him that had been fighting daily to maintain power over Qinghe Nie so it wouldn't be stolen from Nie Mingjue saw this upcoming war as an opportunity. If they did well enough for themselves, if Nie Mingjue proved that he had the potential to make a great leader, the way Nie Huaisang knew he would be when his time came… It could buy them peace within their sect, turn a few more elders and ambitious cousins to their side. If they could be made to see Nie Mingjue the way Nie Huaisang saw him…
It was a risk to take, but it'd be worth it if it worked.
And between Nie Huaisang's cunning and Nie Mingjue’s everything, how could it not work?
As long as they were together, Nie Huaisang felt capable of anything.
-
Roughly a month into what they had dubbed the Sunshot Campaign, Nie Mingjue barged into his brother's tent, dragging behind him a bewildered young man by the name of Meng Yao. A new recruit into their sect, arrived in Qinghe Nie shortly before Nie Mingjue had escaped from the indoctrination camp. A young man who showed great promise, Nie Huaisang had thought, putting him among the troupes led by his brother.
Nothing to do with the fact that Nie Huaisang had taken notice of Meng Yao for their similar backgrounds and, knowing how some of their disciples could be, decided to leave that young man under the protection of Nie Mingjue who did not tolerate anyone to be badmouthed for their origins.
Nie Huaisang had expected that sooner or later his brother would talk to him about Meng Yao, hopefully in good.
What he hadn't expected was Nie Mingjue demanding that Meng Yao be made his second in command right this instant.
"Did Meng gongzi agree to this?" Nie Huaisang asked, deeply amused by the shock on the young man's face.
"Why would he refuse?" Nie Mingjue retorted, so sincerely puzzled that it made his brother laugh.
They had all seen some ugly things this past month, but Nie Huaisang was grateful that his brother hadn't been too changed by it yet.
"Please just ask that man what he wants," Nie Huaisang chuckled.
Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes, as if his brother were acting obtuse on purpose, but he did ask Meng Yao whether he wanted the job or not.
Meng Yao hesitated, which marked him as someone clever enough to realise the amount of responsibility he'd get if he said yes. But he did say yes, which spoke of a certain hunger for better circumstances that Nie Huaisang would have to keep an eye on. Ambition had never been a trait he liked in others, lacking it so much himself.
"Well if everyone wants this, I can only agree," Nie Huaisang announced. "Welcome to this mess, Meng Yao."
"Thank you for this honour, Nie zongzhu," Meng Yao replied with a deep, elegant bow. "I will try to be worthy of it."
-
The weeks that followed were both some of the hardest and the best that Nie Huaisang had ever lived through.
He had not been confronted with such levels of fear and stress since the first year after his father's passing. At the same time, he wasn't alone to face it all this time. His brother was now old enough to fight some battles of his own, literally and metaphorically, which took a huge weight of Nie Huaisang’s shoulders. And Meng Yao, although dropped into this unprepared, had soon proven to be a great asset as well as a great friend.
It had been so long since Nie Huaisang had made a friend. Not since his father's descent into madness, in fact. All those years he had only had Lan Wangji and Lan Qiren to turn to, and he liked both of them immensely, of course, but there was so much they simply couldn't understand.
Meng Yao did.
He knew what it felt like to be the son of a mother only, no matter how glorious the father. He knew about disdain and fighting for respect, about needing to be better than anyone just to perhaps be treated the same. Meng Yao was the only person to understand what Nie Huaisang’s life was like, and he was ever so glad that his brother had decided to take a fancy to the young man.
He hoped Meng Yao would stay with them for good, a perfect addition to their little family.
He told Lan Wangji as much, a few weeks after Meng Yao's rise in ranks, too delighted by the way things were going to keep the joy to himself.
They were technically meeting in the Nie camp to plan a joint attack by Lan and Nie forces, but Nie Huaisang refused to make any decisions until Nie Mingjue joined them and gave his opinion. He was the one who knew the field's situation best after all, and he generally understood military manoeuvres better than Nie Huaisang. So as they waited for him to return from a quick reconnaissance mission, Nie Huaisang did what he did best and chatted endlessly.
Because Lan Wangji was always so quiet, it took Nie Huaisang a criminally long time to realise his friend seemed a little out of it that day.
"How is it treating you, being sect leader?" Nie Huaisang asked. "To rise to power in such circumstances, that can't be… I can't imagine."
"It was similar for Huaisang," Lan Wangji soberly replied. "I have people to rely on."
"Oh, right, I heard Xichen made it home safely! It must have been such a relief! I know I was worried for him. But him and the books were safe in the end, right? You must have been so relieved!"
Lan Wangji nodded, quite earnestly, and yet something still didn't look right. It had to mean the reason for his melancholy was the last possible option. And that, sadly, also meant it was not something Nie Huaisang thought he could help with. Still, even just by lending a friendly ear…
"So, I hear you were there when they found Wei Wuxian again?"
Lan Wangji flinched at that name, visibly so.
It had been barely two weeks since Wei Wuxian was found, but already odd rumours had reached Nie Huaisang, rumours that didn't quite fit the image he had of that brilliant but silly boy. The state in which Wen Chao's men were said to have been found was…
"It must have been rough, hiding three months like that, or being a prisoner of the Wens," Nie Huaisang hesitantly said. "And after what happened in Lotus Piers… But I'm sure he'll be back to normal with a little time, and then you can go back to inefficiently flirting with him."
"No."
"Why not? Come on Wangji, I'll even help you!" Nie Huaisang offered, delighted by the idea. "I know that type, they flirt with everyone, but it takes them by surprise when someone flirts back. Just smile at him a little and I swear…"
"No," Lan Wangji repeated, more insistently. "It is me or Xichen. I will not be my father. I will not take my brother's choice from him."
Nie Huaisang blinked a few times, trying to understand what Lan Xichen had to do with anything.
"Wait, Xichen likes someone ?" he gasped. "Oh. Who is it? Do I know her? Is she pretty? Had he started courting her?"
"Him. Not yet. The circumstances aren't right."
"Oh."
Nie Huaisang pinched his lips, a little disturbed by the idea. He had nothing against men who preferred other men, having that taste himself. And even if he had liked only women, since he suspected that Nie Mingjue had a thing for pretty boys as much as girls, he could never have found that sort of preference disgusting.
Still, it felt odd to him that Lan Xichen might have a crush on anyone. Perhaps that was because Lan Xichen had never once mentioned it to him. Not that they were close by any means, but they had written to each other so often that year Nie Mingjue was in Gusu, Nie Huaisang thought that Lan Xichen had come to see him as another brother figure, one in whom he might have confided more easily than in Lan Wangji.
Clearly, he had thought wrong.
"So what if you both like men?" Nie Huaisang said, choosing to ignore his discomfort when Lan Wangji’s was greater. "There's always the option of getting a concubine. My grandfather certainly did, and back then cut-sleeve weddings weren't half as accepted as they are now."
"Concubines are frowned upon."
"You Lans need to stop ruining your own lives. Get that Wei boy, Wangji, and let Xichen get… Who is it, anyway? Someone I know?"
Lan Wangji threw him an unimpressed look, the one he had whenever he thought Nie Huaisang was acting obtuse on purpose. For once, it wasn't the case. Still, it meant that it had to be very obvious. Nie Mingjue, perhaps? But that seemed unlikely, Lan Xichen used to joke in his letters that he wasn't sure if Nie Mingjue and Jiang Cheng were arguing or flirting. That also took Jiang Cheng out of the picture. Wei Wuxian then? But no, Lan Xichen was so supportive of his brother's affections, it was impossible.
Nie Huaisang was stumped. Aside from these three, he couldn't imagine who Lan Xichen would have been friendly enough with to fall for them.
He was about to ask for clues when his brother stomped into the tent, followed closely by Lan Xichen and Meng Yao who both looked rather worried.
"How nice of you to join us at last," Nie Huaisang noted lightly, as if this were a perfectly fine and polite way to come in. "Please Mingjue, sit down so we can commence."
He gestured at a sitting cushion next to him, only for his brother to glare at him.
"You need to write a recommendation letter for Meng Yao," Nie Mingjue ordered. "He wants to join Lanling Jin, but they've refused him before. They won't dare if he comes recommended!"
Nie Huaisang felt his blood freeze. He tilted his head, trying to catch Meng Yao's eyes, but the young man refused to look at him. An admission of guilt in itself.
"Meng Yao, I don't think that's a good idea," Nie Huaisang sighed. "Aren't you happy with us? Aren't we treating you well? You know how much we value you, you're the only person I trust to look after my brother. If you leave…"
"He's Jin zongzhu's son," Nie Mingjue interrupted, as if that were news to Nie Huaisang. "He has a right to be in Lanling Jin! If they were stupid enough to turn him down before, I'd like to see them do that again, when he has the support of another great sect!"
Nie Huaisang smiled without joy, full of affection and pity for his little brother. It must have been wonderful to be such a righteous and honest person that you couldn't understand that others weren't.
But Nie Huaisang had long ago learned how other people were, and so he could guess just how awful of an idea this was. First of all, Jin Guangshan was a man who loathed all his bastards, and hated being told what to do. Secondly, if Nie Huaisang were to give Meng Yao a recommendation, it would just be the son of a lowly concubine supporting the son of a prostitute. Between whores' sons, of course they would help one another, people might say, and then dismiss all of Meng Yao's skills because they had been praised by the wrong person.
It would be such a disservice to Meng Yao. It would be sending him to people who wouldn't appreciate him the way Nie Huaisang did.
It would be losing a friend, when he had so few.
"Jin Guangshan doesn't like me much," Nie Huaisang said at last. "I'm not really sure…"
"Please, Nie zongzhu," Lan Xichen pleaded, stepping forward. "It is really important to Meng gongzi. Maybe if Wangji too writes him a letter? After all, we owe him as well."
"How so?" Nie Huaisang asked. He shot Lan Wangji a surprised look, but it was Lan Xichen who spoke again.
"When Wangji sent me away with our books, I met Meng Yao who rescued me and protected me," Lan Xichen explained, smiling at Meng Yao who was looking more and more embarrassed. "Without his help and advice, I would surely have been caught by the Wens, and who knows what might have become of me."
"He never said."
Meng Yao risked a glance at his sect leader, and smiled weakly.
"At that time, I wasn't sure who could be trusted with such sensitive information," he confessed. "And besides I wanted to be accepted for my own merit. I wanted a chance to truly prove myself, relying only on my skills and hard work."
"And you did!" Nie Mingjue exclaimed. "So Da-Ge will write you a letter to present to Jin Guangshan. We'll be sorry to lose you, but family is what matters."
Nie Huaisang pinched his lips. Nothing good could come of Meng Yao leaving them, he was one of theirs now, he belonged with them as surely as if they shared blood.
But if Nie Mingjue truly wanted this, if he was certain of his decision… it was high time that he started becoming more involved in their sect's life, and this was part of it. Besides, what was the worst that could come from it?
"I'll write you that letter, Meng Yao," Nie Huaisang promised. "I hope you find in Lanling what you seek. And if you do not… You are always welcome in the Unclean Realm. Tomorrow, in a year, in ten… You are our friend, Meng Yao, and leaving today doesn't mean you can't return later."
And he would return, Nie Huaisang was certain of that. Still, the pain of losing this skilled collaborator, this valued friend, was compensated somewhat by the explosive joy of these three boys. Meng Yao bowed deeply in thanks, while Nie Mingjue broke the stoic persona he was trying to put on lately to hug his brother. As for Lan Xichen he smiled more brightly than Nie Huaisang had ever seen him before, saying again and again how grateful he was that Nie Huaisang was helping him repay his debt. In a very un-Lan manner, he even knelt next to Nie Huaisang and gave him a brief hug.
When Lan Xichen jumped back to his feet to return at Meng Yao's side, Nie Huaisang’s eyes met Lan Wangji, his friend once again giving him That Look.
Nie Huaisang glanced over at Lan Xichen, so excited for his friend's good fortune, while a very overwhelmed Meng Yao could only stare at him with open gratefulness and affection.
Oh.
Well, that settled the issue, Nie Huaisang thought despondently.
They would never have kept Meng Yao anyway.
#xisangweek2020#xisang#nie huaisang#lan xichen#mdzs#honestly there isn't that much xisang in this part oops?#it's mostly nie bros stuff#jau writes#Jau draws#age reversal au
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Price of Wishes / On AO3
Sitting by the bed once more, Nie Mingjue stares at his brother as if he’s lost his mind. Which he might have. Nie Huaisang, lying in bed, doesn’t know what to think about anything at the moment, but this… this is the one certainty he has.
“A road, really?” Nie Mingjue insists.
“And a small altar somewhere in the Unclean Realm,” Nie Huaisang repeats. “It’s very important. And… and we need to find that god’s name to send them proper prayers.”
He glances at ‘Lan Xichen’ who stands just a little behind Nie Mingjue, smiling peacefully as if none of this concerns him. He probably doesn’t know that he’s not a real person, so he must just think that this is only Nie Huaisang being weird.
“Huaisang, that’s a little excessive,” Nie Mingjue scolds. “I’ll go make an offering to that temple if you want me to, but…”
“I’ll pay for all of it,” Nie Huaisang announces, half panicked at the idea of angering a deity so strong that they created a whole person out of thin air. “I’ll sell my fans, and those silk robes I never wear anyway, and… and we can take it off from my allowance for as many years as needed. I’ll paint a portrait myself for the altar. But it is so important. I can’t explain why, just trust me.”
He winces and regrets the words as soon as they leave him. Trust him? Right after he did something so stupid that could have gotten him killed? Nie Mingjue already didn’t trust him before, but after that…
“Fine, you’re getting an altar if it matters so much,” Nie Mingjue sighs. “I’ll see for the road. Those things cost a lot, Huaisang, and it can’t be a priority. You understand that, right?”
Nie Huaisang meekly nods. He understands for sure. Nobody really says it, but their sect is kind of preparing for the risk of a war with Qishan Wen. They have to spend money on things more important than Nie Huaisang’s whims.
“I’m sure that deity will understand that you are doing your best to thank them for their help,” Lan Xichen intervenes, his voice deep and calm, exactly the sort Nie Huaisang likes. It isn’t even a detail that made it on his list, that god is just that great, apparently. “It is to your honour that you are trying to keep your promise.”
Nie Huaisang smiles weakly, and hopes that having Lan Xichen’s approval is a sign that the deity themself is also satisfied with his efforts, at least for the time being. He can’t do more than that anyway, not right then, because the healer joins them with a foul smelling potion that quickly knocks Nie Huaisang out for the rest of the day and the night that follow.
His sleep is not a quiet one, plagued by nightmares of his father, of Wen Ruhoan, of an angry statue without a face that demands the price of a lover Nie Huaisang never even really asked for.
When morning comes, Nie Huaisang is up much earlier than usual, almost with the sun in fact. In spite of his dreams, he feels perfectly rested and full of energy in a way he never is at sunrise. It's fine though, there's a busy day ahead. Nie Huaisang is determined to find out more about his god, and to start working on paying his debt. For this he'll need to spend some time in the library, and maybe send some letters to neighbouring sects and monasteries if he can't find information on his own.
First, though, he needs breakfast. He's a growing boy after all, and he hasn't had anything since that broth yesterday.
After dressing up hastily, Nie Huaisang starts making his way toward the kitchens. As he crosses the courtyard toward those, he spots an unfamiliar silhouette walking around. A young man in white who smiles at him and comes closer.
It'll take a while to get used to Lan Xichen.
"Nie gongzi, good morning. Are you feeling better today?"
His voice is really so, so nice, it's awful.
"I'm quite well, thank you. I was on my way to grab something to eat, do you want to come with me?"
It's a stupid thing to ask. Nie Huaisang doesn't want company, least of all that of this boy who shouldn't exist, but a year in Gusu has left him plagued with crippling politeness and a fear of offending anyone wearing white. Even from this far, he can't shake off the fear that Lan Qiren will hear about any misdemeanour and punish him for it.
"I would be glad to do so," Lan Xichen replies. "People here really sleep in late, don't they?"
"By Gusu Lan standards, for sure," Nie Huaisang says as he starts walking again, the other boy following him. "But everyone will be up soon. Are you going to spend the day with Da-ge?"
From what Nie Huaisang understood yesterday, Lan Xichen is supposed to be friends with Nie Mingjue. It was on the list, after all. As for how close he is supposed to be to Nie Huaisang… it doesn't seem like there's anything official happening between them, or Nie Mingjue would surely have said something when his brother 'forgot' that Lan Xichen exists. Still, maybe the god has decided to give them a secret romance, so Nie Huaisang needs to be very careful until he figures out where they stand.
"Your brother said he would be busy," Lan Xichen says. "My presence was unplanned after all. Maybe Nie er-gongzi will agree to let me keep him company instead?" he adds with a warm smile that Nie Huaisang can't bear to look at. "After your fever, and the way you fainted, it might be better if you were not left alone."
Whose fault was it if Nie Huaisang fainted? And he so doesn't want to spend more time together, but it's hard to refuse anything to someone who smiles at him like that and makes it sound like he might be disappointed if his request were denied.
"It probably won't be much fun," Nie Huaisang warns. "I'm just going to check our library for… Ah, but maybe you'll be able to help. I really want to find whose temple it was, in the mountains."
"Nie gongzi is very determined it seems," Lan Xichen notes.
Determined is just a nice way to say stubborn, which Nie Huaisang has been accused of in the past, though he still thinks he's not nearly as bad as his brother. But Lan Xichen says it like it's a good thing, and that's... nice.
"Debts must be paid," Nie Huaisang grumbles as they enter the kitchens. It's early for sect disciples, but the servants are already hard at work, so they'll have to be nice and stay out of the way. "Lan gongzi, do you want to eat something as well?"
Lan Xichen eagerly nods, glancing all around as if he's never seen food before. It's… cute, for lack of a better word, but it also worries Nie Huaisang. He's pretty sure that if the truth gets discovered he'll be in a ton of trouble, so lan Xichen really needs to learn to act as if he wasn't born yesterday. Only, how to tell him that? If Lan Xichen himself isn't aware of it, he'll think Nie Huaisang is crazy, or maybe he'll get upset over the fact that he isn't a real person.
It’s a problem for later. Nie Huaisang manages to steal two bowls of congee and a pair of buns (earning a slap on the shoulder from the laughing cook who threatens to tell his brother, as always) and quickly goes back outside so Lan Xichen and him can find a quiet spot to eat.
Lan Xichen seems particularly delighted with the food, as if it’s the best thing he’s ever had. It certainly is a lot better than what they have in the Cloud Recesses, as Nie Huaisang can’t help bragging about. Food is just nicer when it actually tastes of something besides bitter and watery. Nie Huaisang could have dealt with the absence of meat, but the lack of taste is something he just can’t handle at all.
“Nie gongzi is very outspoken on this matter,” Lan Xichen notes with a small smile.
The tone is nothing more than teasing, but Nie Huaisang quickly shuts down. He’s been told before that he complains too much, and it’s against the rules of Gusu Lan. Everything is against the rules of Gusu Lan. In fact, Nie Huaisang is starting to feel bad for even talking during this improvised meal, and can't help glancing over his shoulder, fearing to be scolded by someone. He finishes eating quickly and silently, imitated in this by Lan Xichen.
After their bowls have been dropped back to the kitchen, they two boys head to the library. It's not the most impressive room in the Unclean Realm, but it's still a fairly decent library, Nie Huaisang thinks. There's all the normal classical texts of course, a whole bunch of cultivation nonsense he won't get close to if he can help it, but also some essays and notes on the history of Qinghe and its region. At some point in the past, one sect leader decided that he felt ashamed for being descended from a butcher and ordered his more scholarly disciple to research the issue and find out if maybe his ancestor wasn't secretly someone a little more glorious, linked to local nobility. He was apparently very disappointed to find it wasn't so, but at least now Qinghe Nie has some surprisingly serious historical texts in its collection.
Nie Huaisang has read most of them in fits of boredom. He knows some of them mention powerful local family building temples and making offering to gods in times of crisis or celebration, so hopefully he'll find something about his god as well. Without losing a moment, he starts perusing the shelves.
"So what are we looking for?" Lan Xichen asks, glancing around at the books.
"Histories of Qinghe, or something on local beliefs, or… Anything, really. It was a big temple, and the statue was huge. It's got to be an important god. They felt… powerful. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if it were one of the really big ones. I bet the temple has just been abandoned because it's hard to get there."
Lan Xichen smiles at that statement, though there's something a little sad in his expression.
"Gods rise and fall," he points out. "Perhaps the one you encountered is among the latter, and you won't find anyone who remembers them."
Nie Huaisang shrugs, and grabs the first book he can spot that looks even mildly relevant, quickly browsing through it.
"I think you're wrong," he says. "I think they must be very powerful. They have to be. They listened to my stupid prayer and answered it so well and so quick! Isn't that the mark of a powerful deity? And even if they're not, I've got to try. I've got to make them good offerings, so I must find who they are and what they like."
"Congee and buns apparently," Lan Xichen murmurs, but Nie Huaisang is too taken by his book to hear him.
Morning passes quickly, and brings them nothing. In all honesty Nie Huaisang isn't entirely surprised, but still had to try, and it's better than training in the sun with everyone else. He even appreciates that Lan Xichen is trying to help, though he does catch him looking at the books with puzzlement a few times. Of course if Lan Xichen was created with memories of Gusu Lan's great library, this one must seem very pitiful to him.
Around lunch time, Nie Mingjue joins them in the library and starts scolding Nie Huaisang for yet again leaving his bed without permission.
"But Xichen-ge was there with me," Nie Huaisang shamelessly points out, batting his eyes innocently. "And you trust him, right?"
"Of course I do," Nie Mingjue retorts without hesitation. "The servants told me you were with him, or else I'd have dragged you back to bed already."
Nie Huaisang laughs, and makes a note that he can probably use Lan Xichen when dealing with his brother. It's not what he intended when he asked for a husband who would get along with Nie Mingjue, but if Nie Mingjue gets soft with someone, it might as well profit his brother.
As they exit the library and walk away to have lunch, Lan Xichen hesitantly turns to Nie Mingjue, looking almost shy now.
“Mingjue-xiong, about that matter I mentioned yesterday…”
Nie Mingjue nods. “The woman was found where you said, and given the money. One of the disciples is from that village and he’s asked his parents to keep an eye out for her so we can help again if needed. She’s almost destitute and doesn’t have any family left. Apparently she’s got a reputation for being a little mad and impossibly lucky. I guess her crossing your path confirms it.”
Lan Xichen smiles. He rarely ever does anything else of course, but Nie Huaisang gets the feeling that it’s a lot more genuine this time, as if it really matters to him that this old woman gets treated well. It’s… sort of sweet, if Nie Huaisang is honest. But of course, kindness was on his list, so he shouldn’t be surprised.
“Who’s that woman?” Nie Huaisang can’t help asking, surprised that this newly created man already knows other people in the area.
At this question, a spot of red appears on Lan Xichen’s cheeks, as if he’s been caught doing something bad. Nie Huaisang’s heart speeds up a little, which is ridiculous and annoying. Maybe he shouldn’t have demanded for his future husband to be so handsome, since he clearly can’t handle that.
“While running that errand for my uncle, I became a little lost,” Lan Xichen confesses. “This old woman helped me get back on the right path, and she even insisted on giving me something to eat, though it was clear she doesn’t have much. I was in too much of a hurry to repay her then, but I thought your brother might be able to do something for her. I’m glad I was right.”
There’s something wrong about that story, because Lan Xichen definitely can’t have been running errands and getting lost due to not even existing a few days ago. But the joy and relief on his face over knowing that this woman will be taken care of seem real, so Nie Huaisang decides not to question it for the time being. If that god in the mountain decided to give their creation some fake memories to make everything feel more real, it’s for the best.
It’ll make it less likely for others to realise something isn’t quite right.
#xisang#nie huaisang#lan xichen#mo dao zu shi#the untamed#xisang wishes au#jau writes#people had been worried for lxc's believer so I hope this comforts you! he cares about her a lot and wouldn't just abandon her#also nhs doesn't know how to deal with very handsome people
32 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
dragaliareferencearchive
Archive
thilina-indrajith
Cats park
goingplacesandtakingpictures
Just for Fun
deby45
All we are saying...