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Nie Huaisang’s hand curved over the top of his cup, fingers encircling the rim as he lightly swirled it. He sat quietly at the table given to him by Sect Leader Jin upon arrival, empty plates before him and a recently refilled jar of wine. He was people watching at present, taking a moment for himself to get the lay of the land and prepare himself for whatever nonsense the cultivation world would like to argue over tomorrow when the discussion conference began in earnest. Tonight was the opening, with Jin Ling stepping into the role of Sect Leader Jin fully for the first major event of his reign.

He had done wonderfully so far, being moderately personable as he welcomed everyone in—Nie Huaisang only spotted a few rolled eyes as one sect leader or another droned on at him. He had attended to everyone with a brief word of welcome before finding one excuse or another to move on and speak more with those that interested him. Once they had all been seated at their respective tables, the speech Jin Ling gave of unity and new beginnings was very tastefully done and eloquently spoken, earning him approved mutterings from much of the elder crowd. Lan Wangji, the Chief Cultivator himself, spoke few words, though all were artfully chosen and well said, before returning to sit with the Lan contingent and Wei Wuxian. Then, of course, Jin Ling sealed the deal with the endless generosity of the Jin, plying them all with good wine and even better food; succulent meats and river-fresh fish, fresh toasted nuts and steaming plates of sauced vegetables. 

Tomorrow would be when the real conversations began, but for tonight, Sect Leader Jin had set them all off on a good foot and a generous mood, if the toasting and boasting coming from some corners were to be believed. For now, Nie Huaisang remained in his seat, just watching. 

Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian looked well and orbited around each other like the earth and moon, never far from the other. Jin Ling bounced around the room being a courteous host before sequestering in a corner with Lan Sizhui for some time, then being sent back out into the wilds of the elder sect leaders. 

Lan Xichen was not in attendance, though Nie Huaisang did not expect him to return to the public eye for some time still. It had only been a year after all, and he did not begrudge him it. To learn of such a deep betrayal would be a trial for anyone to overcome. Nie Huaisang had funnelled all of his horror into revenge. It had helped.

Jiang Wanyin was standing by a pillar, half leaning against it while watching Jin Ling as he entertained his guests. There was something wistful in the way Jiang Wanyin watched his nephew, his finger tapping absently at the side of the cup of wine in his hand. 

He was looking particularly eye-catching today, his left hand tucked behind his back, spine tall and head upright as he stood alone. His robes were a deep plum with faintly lighter embroidery across it, shining lotus’ within swirling wind and water that caught the light when he moved. Zidian was curled around the wrist holding his cup as always. A silver lotus guan curved out of his hair with silver adornments cascading down the back of his loose hair, lightly reflecting the rivulets of gold that ran through Jin Ling’s hair. The golden light from the sunset outside that filtered in through the windows lit his face most handsomely, showing off his proud cheekbones and sharp jaw.

He really was too much.

He observed as Jiang Wanyin took in a long breath, let it out, and took a sip from his cup. Then, his head turned to scan the room and his eyes met Nie Huaisang’s. For a moment, there was no reaction, the two of them caught in a silent moment. Then Jiang Wanyin raised an eyebrow at him.

That seemed as much an invitation as any.

Nie Huaisang smiled and picked himself up from his seat, leaving his cup of wine on the table and walking unhurriedly to stand with him. He pulled his fan from his sleeve and flicked it open, needing its familiar weight in his hand.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” he greeted, bowing the appropriate amount.

Jiang Wanyin let out a snort through his nose, his mouth curling up in the echo of a smile and nodding his head at him, surprisingly casual. “Sect Leader Nie. Are you not enjoying your evening?”

“Not at all, I was quite enjoying a moment of respite, it is to be a long discussion tomorrow,” he replied. “Are you well?”

They fell quickly into small talk, briefly trading details on the wellbeing of their sects and their lands and their people, ghosting over a few of the topics likely to come up tomorrow. They discussed the proposed trade agreements between a handful of smaller sects wishing to establish themselves more with the larger ones. The deal from the outside looked rather good, but Nie Huaisang was aware of a few shadier characters scattered amongst them. He wanted this deal beaten out harder than their swords ever had been. Nie Huaisang did not like to be played if he could help it. 

Their conversation fell away for a time, Jiang Wanyin’s attention returning to the room. 

Nie Huaisang’s chest grew heavier the longer the interaction went on. After everything, Jiang Wanyin still felt so lost to him. Distant. Here they were, so close, their shoulders nearly brushing, and it felt as if a chasm of politeness yawned between them. 

They had been friends once. Nie Huaisang barely remembered how to have friends now.

“They’re ridiculous,” Jiang Wanyin said, apropos of nothing. “No shame, either of them.”

Nie Huaisang glanced up and followed his line of sight to where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji were tucked away in a corner, speaking softly. They were closer than was generally deemed an appropriate distance between two conversational parties at a political gathering. Lan Wangji’s gaze in particular was far too heated for a public space, as was the hand that wandered down Wei Wuxian’s waist, mostly out of sight from the room, but noticeable if you were looking.

There was a tangible breath in the air from Jiang Wanyin, mouth twisting as he mulled over his words. The tapping on his cup became more agitated. Nie Huaisang waited him out, fanning himself mildly, until Jiang Wanyin finally spat, “Did they invite you to the wedding?”

Nie Huaisang let out a short breath of laughter, surprised at the question. Jiang Wanyin’s eyes flashed down to him—oh, be still his heart—and he shook his head. “No.”

Jiang Wanyin let out a short hum.

“Sect Leader Jin is doing well,” Nie Huaisang said, nodding his head toward where Jin Ling was conversing with a small group: a few lesser sect leaders, and Sect Leader Ouyang’s son. “He is a credit to you.”

Where Nie Huaisang had expected joy and pride at the mention of Jin Ling, as had always been the case in the past, Jiang Wanyin’s expression shuttered ever so slightly. He took a long drink from his cup, then said, “He has come a long way on his own.”

Ah. There was enough there to read between the words. 

Nie Huaisang nervously wet his lips, teeth scraping thoughtfully across his bottom lip as he thought of the best words to back out of this ruin of a conversation.

He caught it as Jiang Wanyin’s eyes flashed down to the movement at his mouth. His pupils darkened, just for a moment, just enough to be noticeable, his throat suddenly bobbing—and then the Jiang Sect Leader seemed to catch himself and whipped his head back around to watch the room.

Oh. 

Interesting.

“Jiujiu!” came the call from Jin Ling and Jiang Wanyin grasped onto it.

“If you will excuse me.” He offered Nie Huaisang a more formal bow than before, adding, “Have a pleasant evening, Sect Leader Nie,” and strode off.

Nie Huaisang made a tetching sound between his teeth, fan fluttering up to chase away the brief flush of heat that last look had kindled in him.

Here he was, thinking he had put that fancy behind him years ago. 

When he next looked up after being lost to his thoughts for some time, Wei Wuxian was lounging up against a nearby wall nursing a jar of wine loosely in his fingers. His gaze was long, thoughts evidently somewhere far from Glamour Hall.

Nie Huaisang walked towards him, silently hoping this conversation might go better than the last.

“Wei-xiong,” he greeted, stepping into Wei Wuxian’s orbit and settling beside him, the both of them with their backs to the wall and eyes on the room. 

“Sect Leader Nie.”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes and lightly swatted Wei Wuxian with his fan. The solid weight of the wood made a satisfying thwack as it hit his clothed arm. It was a rather nice silk robe after all. The Chief Cultivator was clearly taking good care of what was his.

“Aiyah, that one’s rather heavy, isn’t it?” Wei Wuxian complained, theatrically rubbing his arm. 

It was an excellent fan. Made from ebony wood, it was dense and rather heavy when used properly. If nothing else, it landed firmly in his palm when Nie Huaisang was lost in thought. He liked the weight of it.

“How were your travels?” he asked. “I keep hearing good things about Hanguang-Jun and his handsome shadow around the towns.”

Wei Wuxian laughed. “Yes, our journeys have been highly enjoyable. Lan Zhan has not changed, always loving to be where the chaos is when he is not needed for all this formal nonsense.” His dark eyes immediately sought out the tall, blue-clad beacon further into the room having what appeared to be a stilted conversation with Sect Leader Wang. 

“Are you heading off again after the conference?”

“Home to Gusu first, for a time,” he said, though his voice sounded flatter than before. Not eager to go then. “After that, we were thinking of travelling again for a while. Not far though, in case Lan Zhan is needed.”

“Speaking of; congratulations on your marriage,” Nie Huaisang said, flipping his fan open again. 

Wei Wuxian choked on his mouthful of wine. “Oh, ah, thank you, are we—are we that obvious?” he laughed, fumbling for his words. 

“He mourned you for years and I saw how you both were after you…came back. And then, after everything, you disappeared on your own for several months,” Nie Huaisang said cooly, fanning himself with slow, delicate motions. “Then one of my little birds tells me of a man in red and black on the road to Gusu. Suddenly, our Chief Cultivator vanishes for months?” He made a considering sound. “Surely you must see the image it paints.”

Wei Wuxian at least had the decency to look abashed. 

“Also, I have functioning eyes, Wei-xiong,” he added, half hiding a smile behind his fan. “I can see how you hang off his arm, and how he hangs off your words.”

“Alright, alright, you’ve made your point,” Wei Wuxian conceded, turning his body more towards Nie Huaisang. “Just…keep quiet about it. If we were ever friends”—oh, that stung—“don’t tell anyone yet.”

He smiled past the sharpness of the words, lightly asking, “Oh? Who knows then, I would hate to accidentally give away your secret.”

“Xichen,” Wei Wuxian murmured. “That’s all so far. We, ah, haven’t even had that discussion with Master Lan yet. Do you think anyone else knows?”

“Jiang Wanyin does.”

A complicated expression flashed across Wei Wuxian’s face. A nervous little flick of the eyes in the direction of his once-shidi. An anxious twist of his hands. 

So they hadn’t dealt with the rubble left from Guanyin Temple then. 

“How? Did you suggest it to him?” Wei Wuxian whispered. “I saw you speaking earlier—”

“He, in fact, asked me if I had been invited to the wedding,” Nie Huaisang cut in. 

“Ah.” Wei Wuxian sighed, rubbing his face. “If it helps, we didn’t invite anyone.”

“I can’t say I was expecting an invitation.” Nie Huaisang was beginning to regret trying to speak to anyone at this banquet. At this rate he’d almost have better luck trying to have a conversation with Lan Wangji. Almost. “Never-mind that,” Nie Huaisang deflected, smiling up at Wei Wuxian, “are things well between you then?”

Wei Wuxian hummed in agreement, though his thoughts were clearly not with Nie Huaisang anymore, instead still staring across the room at Jiang Wanyin’s back. He absently swirled the jar of wine in his hand. “I worry for him,” Wei Wuxian said eventually, likely more to himself than Nie Huaisang. “Do you think he’s at all happy?”

Nie Huaisang paused in the motion of his fan, feeling a rising pressure in his chest. 

No, he didn’t think Jiang Wanyin was happy. 

He didn’t think many of their generation were, of those still alive at least. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had done miraculously to come out the closer; the rest of them had most thoroughly shattered themselves apart. 

He wondered if they could ever come back from it.

Nie Huaisang’s silence answered the question for Wei Wuxian better than any words could.

Nie Huaisang sat on the bench in the small garden by his chambers. 

He opened and closed his fan rhythmically, staring blankly at the trunk of the tree before him. His feet shifted on the small stones on the ground, letting the sound of their movement roll over him, and let out a long sigh of frustration. He closed his eyes, feeling the breeze on his face, before opening them again.

He stared back down at the opened letter sitting beside him on the bench. 

It was from Jiang Wanyin.

Opening the letter, he had been hit with the memory of the look that had darkened the man’s eyes at the banquet. That fleeting flash of want that had pierced Nie Huaisang’s chest and buried itself deep within his heart. That look had reawakened his desire which had been set aside for so long—and Jiang Wanyin had done nothing but become more handsome in the intervening years. The way the weight of leadership settled so comfortably on his shoulders now, rather than how it had shackled him at the death of his parents and the destruction of his sect.

Now, it was Nie Huaisang who had nothing left. Da-ge, while revenged, was still gone. Nie Huaisang was still the reluctant leader of the Nie Sect. He made do with keeping the sect running and their lands managed and safe, but he did not enjoy it. Everything he had done in these past years had been in service to his goal and the legacy of his brother. And now he was left directionless. He was still…

He had seen a similar look in Jiang Wanyin’s eyes. His nephew, now the Jin Sect Leader and doing a fine job of it, had no need to trail around after his uncle all day long like Fairy at his own heels. Wei Wuxian had returned but there was obviously still a deep rift in their relationship, and Wei Wuxian had found himself a home in Lan Wangji. He did not need Jiang Wanyin as he had when they were children. 

Like gravity, Nie Huaisang’s eyes pulled to the desk that still held a blood stained hat, shoved unceremoniously in the topmost drawer. He hadn’t wanted to keep it, necessarily, but he had brought it home tucked away in a sleeve pocket, and been unable to throw it away. So now it lived there, untouched, but he was always aware of it. 

Nie Huaisang did not regret what he had done. Jin Guangyao had deserved everything he had suffered. He deserved to have his name dragged through the mud. He deserved to watch all his gains and plans to fall apart in his hands. He deserved death at the hand of the one he trusted most. Even that, Nie Huaisang did not regret.

Lan Xichen had a right to know. Even if it had hurt him dearly, he needed to know the conniving, lying monster he had welcomed into his family, ripping it apart from the inside out.

Nie Huaisang did not regret any of it, but…in doing so, he had lost himself. He had become a vessel for da-ge’s revenge, doing everything needed in service to it, and losing track of any friendship or kindness that might get in the way of that.

And now? Well. 

Wei Wuxian’s question echoed in his thoughts again. 

Do you think he’s at all happy?

Nie Huaisang had wanted to be happy once. It was all he had wanted, really. A life with a loving partner filled with wine and art and music. He hadn’t wanted to lead the sect, hadn’t wanted to throw his life away to a cause—and yet here he was. He really was like da-ge in some ways. Ruthless to a fault. 

But he was not dead.

Nie Huaisang set his fan down and picked up the letter from Jiang Wanyin, folding it back into its original shape and tapping it thoughtfully against his mouth.

He wondered if it was too late for happiness. Whether Jiang Wanyin might like to help him find it—help himself find it with Nie Huaisang. He hadn’t been mistaken in the desire he’d seen in Jiang Wanyin’s eyes. 

He desperately wanted to see how far it could take them.

Perhaps a more…personal reply to the letter was in order.

Nie Huaisang approached the gates of Lotus Pier with four Nie disciples and a forced spring in his step, a calm expression masking the fact that his heart was beating so fast he thought it might just escape his skin. 

They had landed on the outskirts of the city proper, and Nie Huaisang had taken the time to wander the streets. He had followed a winding path through the shops and stalls, stopping at a couple and buying a small bag of sweets before setting them in his pocket. He noted a few Jiang disciples who recognised him, and the way they quickly scurried back towards Lotus Pier, no doubt informing their leader of his presence.

He wanted to give Jiang Cheng a little warning of his arrival, but not so much as to be able to prepare for it. So, once a suitable amount of time had passed, he and his disciples continued onwards to the gates of the Jiang stronghold. 

It looked beautiful in the early autumn afternoon. The lake beyond sparkled, and the buildings and grounds that lay before it were well kept to equally gleaming. There was a certain tranquillity Nie Huaisang had always liked about Lotus Pier. It was far more open and wreathed in nature than the Unclean Realm was. He’d always dreamed of painting here, settling himself on the bank of a lake and listening to the sounds of waterbirds and the rustling of foliage as he worked. He'd had an open invitation to visit when they'd parted after their studies at Gusu, but then…everything had happened. The cultivation world had done it’s best to burn itself down and their friendship had suffered for it.

Just as they approached the gate, Nie Huaisang waving brightly at the disciples who were loosely manning it, Jiang Wanyin appeared. He strode toward them from between two nearby buildings, dressed well if plainly—clearly not expecting visitors.

He came to a stop in the entryway. “What are you doing here.”

“I am visiting an old friend,” Nie Huaisang said, offering the other a sweet smile and leaning into the vapid persona he was known for. “We’re friends right?” 

Jiang Wanyin stared at him, eyes flat as he crossed his arms across his chest. 

“Or we were, at least,” Nie Huaisang added, catching himself. “I had hoped we still might be.”

“We were. I’ve barely seen you the last ten years.”

“Ah—”

“Too busy playing the fool for your scheme.”

Nie Huaisang’s mouth closed.

“I’m not stupid.”

The Head Shaker fell completely from his shoulders, Nie Huaisang silently setting the mantle aside in his mind. “No. I know you’re not.”

“I saw enough in Guanyin Temple. So, what are you doing here? I don’t think there are any grudges to be held against me that you need to settle,” Jiang Wanyin said.

Ah, always so sharp with his words. It was one of the things Nie Huaisang liked about him.

Nie Huaisang smiled to himself, flicking open his fan. “You took a jar of wine and a spring book from me in Gusu, that I do remember. It was a good book too. Perhaps that’s it.”

“So what,” Jiang Wanyin began, the hint of a smile pulling at the edge of his mouth, “you’re going to have your revenge on me for stealing porn when we were sixteen?”

Nie Huaisang laughed, he was surprised how real it felt. “Perhaps. Do you still have it?”

“Huh?”

“The book.”

The blush that crawled suddenly across Jiang Wanyin’s face was very telling. 

Nie Huaisang could not contain his smile. “You liked it that much?”

“Shut up and come inside,” Jiang Wanyin barked, turning on his heel in a swirl of lilac fabrics. He muttered something under his breath as he went, but Nie Huaisang was too far away to catch it.

Nie Huaisang followed, trotting up beside him. “You know, if you still have it, I suppose I could be appeased.”

Jiang Wanyin returned that with a grunt.

They walked through Lotus Pier for a brief time, Nie Huaisang glancing about and waving off his disciples to go entertain themselves at their questioning looks. Then he was being led towards a nearby building and Jiang Wanyin opened a door for him, gesturing for him to enter. 

Nie Huaisang found himself in a small room, very tastefully decorated with light wood and varying shades of purple, blue, and gold fabrics. There was a subtly carved table in the centre of the room, shapes of lotus and water fowl curving around the body of it. Inksticks and an inkstone were set atop it, not in perfect tidiness, but moved to rest where they were likely most convenient. Shelves lined the walls, all perfectly spaced and decorated with books and objects that were pleasing to the eye, but haphazard enough to know things were often moved in this room. A window past the desk looked out onto a small lotus pond, flowers curving up from beneath the water, surrounded by open leaves and a pair of dragonflies flitting through the air.

This must be Jiang Wanyin’s study, or a private room at the very least. It did not have the overt opulence that sect leaders tended to prefer in rooms that were made to receive other dignitaries. A flutter of hope whispered within his ribcage. Perhaps their friendship was not so far gone as he had feared it might be.

“Sit,” Jiang Wanyin said, gesturing to the seat by the desk. There was not another seat in the room.

“I am fairly certain that is your chair, Sect Leader Jiang,” Nie Huaisang said lightly.

Jiang Wanyin rolled his eyes at him, a sour expression curling his mouth. “Stay here,” he said.

At that, Nie Huaisang was left alone in the room.

He blinked at the unexpected show of trust. Shaking his head, Nie Huaisang wandered over to the window, thumbing open his fan and airing himself as he watched the dragonflies dance across the surface of the water. It was a very pleasant view. The flowers were well kept and healthy, the water clear, and edges of the pool carefully crafted to appear natural, but were clearly stone. From here he could also see the front gate of Lotus Pier, but was removed enough to be safely within the walls. He wondered if Jiang Wanyin had seen him from here. He had arrived at the gate rather quickly. Nie Huaisang glanced back to the desk and the hastily closed folder atop it, the hint of white paper peeking out from between the wooden slats. It was possible.

He wandered the room then, looking at the objects and books along the shelves without touching any of it. Any of it could be cursed or warded, and Nie Huaisang did not wish to wear out his welcome quite so quickly. He had hopes, after all.

He looked up as Jiang Wanyin returned and opened the door with a rough shove, a stool slung under his arm and a tray of tea balanced in the other. 

Nie Huaisang smiled as he approached, carefully taking the precariously held tray and stepping back. Jiang Wanyin placed the chair beside the table and moved some of the objects atop it to the side, finding empty portions of shelves to set them on.

“There, sit,” Jiang Wanyin said, gesturing to the table and setting himself in what Nie Huaisang had rightly assumed was his chair.

“Thank you,” Nie Huaisang said graciously, placing the tray of tea on the cleared desk and sitting in his newly acquired seat. It was very comfortable.

Jiang Wanyin set about pouring them both tea from the pot, following the well practised ritual with a sure hand. Nie Huaisang let his thoughts drift as the sounds of it filled the room. When it was ready, he took his tea gratefully, his free hand keeping his sleeve from the table. He sipped consideringly, and decided he quite enjoyed the light flavour of the tea. Jiang Wanyin had made it quite well. The porcelain of the cup was rather fine too, smooth as water beneath his fingertips and painted in rich violet and gold. 

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Nie Huaisang said with a smile.

Dark eyes flashed up to meet his. “So why are you really here?” Jiang Wanyin asked flatly, cutting right to the chase.

All things being fair; time to hit below the belt. 

Nie Huaisang glanced away for a moment, then back again, the sharp line of his lashes curving beneath his brow. He knew he painted a pretty picture like this. “Would you believe me if I said I was lonely?”

There was a raw expression on Jiang Wanyin’s face, a fleeting one, but there, before it was buried under a familiar scowl. But Nie Huaisang had seen it. Had seen the emptiness reflected in his eyes. The sense of isolation lurking in the set of his jaw. The yawning abyss in his chest where family had sat. Nie Huaisang had seen it in his own face enough over the years to recognise it in Jiang Wanyin.

Jiang Wanyin turned his head to stare out the window, mouth tightening at the edges and the hand that bore Zidian flexing just slightly.

“I might.”

Nie Huaisang said nothing, letting Jiang Wanyin work through whatever was going through his mind just now. 

When he finally returned his attention to Nie Huaisang, the sharpness in his expression was gone, replaced with the calm mask of a leader. “And you wished to stay here?”

“Mn,” Nie Huaisang agreed. “You were my friend, once, and I realise it was some time ago but…I have missed you.”

Another period of silence, then, “How long do you wish to stay?”

Success.

Nie Huaisang smiled. “I had hoped you would allow me a few weeks, if that is not too burdensome.”

Jiang Wanyin nodded. 

They finished their tea in silence, Nie Huaisang staring out the window and watching the Jiang disciples go about their afternoon. The light as it filtered inside the sect was slowly growing longer and taking on the golden hue of the evening, painting Lotus Pier in an otherworldly glow.

“You rebuilt it so beautifully,” Nie Huaisang noted, setting his finished cup back on the tray.

“Come,” Jiang Wanyin said, ignoring his comment as he stood up, robes swirling as he moved in one deft motion.

Nie Huaisang picked himself up and followed after him.

He was led a short distance across the wooden pathways that lined Lotus Pier, glancing down at the water that ran beneath most and the occasional flash of a fish scale darting among the lotus leaves. 

He stopped when Jiang Wanyin did, the quick tapping on the wood coming to a sudden halt. “Your room,” he said, tipping his head to a set of closed doors beside him.

“Thank you.”

“You are welcome to join me for breakfast,” Jiang Wanyin informed him. “I have things to attend to tomorrow that cannot be avoided.”

Nie Huaisang shook his head. “It is no trouble. I realise I came unannounced and unexpected, I would be glad to join you for breakfast. I will enjoy what time of yours I can steal.”

That seemed to bring the other up short; a quick flutter of eyelashes that slipped past the facade of Sect Leader Jiang. 

“Rest well,” Jiang Wanyin bade him. He bowed briefly, began to walk, then paused. “Your disciples will be housed in the guest wing if you are looking for them.”

Nie Huaisang paused. Where on earth was he then?

Clearly not wishing to elaborate, Jiang Wanyin strode off.

Nie Huaisang laughed to himself, tapping his fan against his hand, and entered his quarters for the coming weeks. They were very fine. It was spacious and decorated with high quality furniture, each piece hewn from dark wood and all intricately carved to match the other pieces. A large bed and a series of empty drawers and chests was set within the bedroom. A shelf filled with books and small sculptures lined the walls of the central room. A dining area with a small round fire-pit and kettle set to the side filled the remaining space. Most enjoyably, there was a cushioned bench by the window that looked out onto a small pond of lotus with a small table set beside it. 

Nie Huaisang settled himself on the seat by the window and let out a sigh.

His first week in Lotus Pier was a stilted, awkward thing. The both of them off balance and trying to find their footing around one another again, the foundation of their friendship mired in years of distance and enforced silences. Nie Huaisang ate breakfast with Jiang Wanyin each morning, and dinner most nights, speaking long into the evening. Nie Huaisang made sure to keep the conversation light, testing the waters and catching each other up on the generalities of their lives. They found they had a lot of common ground; both up to their necks in sect politics and alliances and trade agreements and thoroughly sick of some of it—sick of particular people quite often. Nie Huaisang had nearly choked himself around a mouthful of noodles at Jiang Wanyin’s particularly scathing review of Sect Leader Yao. Nie Huaisang in turn passed on all the little morsels of information he had collected over the years, the truths past the gossip, as well as a little collection of very amusing, if fake, information.

During the day, Nie Huaisang found ways to entertain himself. He read books he had brought with him, the books found in his rooms, and then pilfered some from the Jiang library with Jiang Wanyin’s approval. The weather had been rather wet so he had yet to be able to set himself up for a proper day’s painting out on the water, but the thought of it still tempted him. He took himself for slow walks on the few occasions the weather was fine, or sat at the edge of the training fields when Jiang Wanyin was on them, watching him instruct the disciples. That was certainly a pleasure; the man moved like the water itself, assured and relentless and fluid in each part of the forms. His disciples clearly adored and admired him, watching him with dedicated focus and seeking feedback whenever possible. 

Nie Huaisang had walked through town on one day when the market had been in full swing, investigating the produce and trinkets offered. In the end he had headed back to the Jiang Sect with a small bag of green tangerines that they had split between them after dinner, their fingers sticky with fruit and remembering the sweet days of stealing fruits from the Gusu Lan trees during their studies. Overall, Nie Huaisang was having a lovely time. He had left everything tied up nicely back in Qinghe, so he didn’t have to handle many sect issues. Some did, inevitably, come across his table during the day, but they were usually easily dealt with.

Eventually, Nie Huaisang also figured out that he was currently occupying what had previously been Madam Yu’s chambers, which certainly explained why they were so lovely. If nothing else, she had been a woman of great taste and took pride in presentation. When he had pressed Jiang Wanyin on it, he had blustered something or other about how none of the other rooms were quite as nice, and therefore not fit for a visiting sect leader. Nie Huaisang was so very tempted to call that bluff, because he had stayed in Lotus Pier before for official reasons, and the rooms set aside for the upper echelon of guests were very nice. He had quite enjoyed them the last time he had stayed. 

To be fair to him, Jiang Wanyin was technically being truthful, for surely none of these guest chambers would ever be as lovely as the late Madam Yu’s rooms. It had been enlightening though, for through this he had discovered that Jiang Wanyin’s rooms, the late Jiang Fengmian’s, while still in the family wing, were not an inconsiderable distance away. Clearly at least some of those rumours about the state of their marriage had been true.

He also noticed the echoes of Jiang Wanyin’s loneliness in snatches. Caught him exiting the family shrine with flat eyes and a stilted greeting. Saw him standing on the edge of the pier alone on more than once, staring off into the distance as a hand fidgeted with the ring of Zidian. Found him sitting at his desk before one of their nightly meetings, frowning intently at what he had offhandedly revealed as a letter from Jin Ling. Nie Huaisang’s heart ached for him.

“You know I did wonder about the Head Shaker thing,” Jiang Wanyin said out of nowhere one night, just over one week into Nie Huaisang’s stay. He placed some roasted duck and vegetables onto Nie Huaisang’s plate then placed a mouthful between his own teeth.

“Hm?” Nie Huaisang asked. “What about it?”

Jiang Wanyin swallowed before speaking. “Firstly, you were never stupid,” he said flatly and Nie Huaisang laughed. “You never did work you didn’t want to, but you understood it.” He made a thoughtful face. “The crux of the matter was that for all I heard rumours of the Head Shaker—how he never knew the answer, never did anything, was useless in his position—your sect never, truly, had any problems. The Nie lands never actually fell apart, none of your cousins or disciples challenged you for the position.” Jiang Wanyin smiled, shaking his head. “I did wonder for years what you were doing, figured there must be some point to it. Last year at least answered that question for me.”

Nie Huaisang blinked at him. “You noticed so much?”

“I…kept an eye on things over the first few years you took over from Chifeng-Zun,” Jiang Wanyin admitted, chopsticks fussing with some cabbage and mushrooms on the plate. “I was going to offer to help if you needed it.”

Something unexpected fluttered in Nie Huaisang’s stomach.

“But you seemed to have it in hand, so I left you to it.”

Oh.

“I like to think I would have welcomed your presence,” Nie Huaisang said quietly, poking nervously at his own food as he said it, “but I think it would have interfered with things too much. Thank you for thinking of me. I do…I do appreciate that.” He sighed. “I meant what I said before. I have missed you.”

He startled as a hand settled over his where it rested on the table. It remained only for a moment, squeezing his, with a quiet, “I missed you as well,” and then departing. Jiang Wanyin did not meet his eyes afterward.

Finally there came a day with no clouds in the sky and none threateningly grey on the horizon, and Nie Huaisang resolved that today would be the day he would paint. Thus, Nie Huaisang settled himself out at the table within the pagoda on the river. He had left Jiang Wanyin to a meeting with some local dignitaries, followed by training with the junior disciples in the afternoon. He had hours to himself.

Nie Huaisang had brought all the necessary supplies with him from Qinghe, as well as his favourite brush, all tucked away in a prettily embroidered qiankun pouch to keep it safe. He followed his usual routine, first setting out the paper and placing weights at the edge, knowing well the perils of outdoor artistry and the wind. Next he laid his inkstick beside it and placed the inkstone beside that. Beside them both he set his brush and a small cup and then smiled down at the spread, a fondness settling in his chest with an excitement bubbling up beside it.

He hopped up from his seat, taking the cup with him, and leant over the edge of the pagoda, carefully scooping up some of the river water. Returning to where he had left, he put it back beside the inkstone and began the meditative process of grinding the inkstick against it. He watched the scenery as he did so, checking back in every few moments to assess the consistency of the ink, before looking out again. He considered his choice of subjects, and eventually settled on the nearby lotus to begin with. He hoped the ducks swimming a ways off might come closer as he worked, he should like to paint them if he could.

Nie Huaisang lost himself in his art, thoughts soothed by the sound of the water washing through the plant life beneath the pagoda. He captured moments as they passed, experimenting with lines and shapes and the wildlife endemic to Lotus Pier. He found himself smiling as he added a caped figure to the edge of a dock, imagining the deep purple shade to the robes.

“You’re still here?”

Nie Huaisang jumped at the voice, brush leaping across the page and thankfully blotting out the shape of the man who had just scared his ghost from his body.

“Jiang Wanyin!” he cried, clutching his chest 

He smirked at Nie Huaisang. “You didn’t hear me coming.”

“No! I was focusing.”

Jiang Wanyin let out a small laugh, the smile that accompanied it made Nie Huaisang’s heart skip a beat. They were becoming more frequent as his stay continued. Smiles and laughter and more lingering looks that continued to kindle the hope in his heart.

“Don’t let me stop you,” Jiang Wanyin said, leaning up against one of the nearby pillars. He stood, arms crossed, with robes falling artfully from his shoulders. His stance was relaxed, distractingly so, and he jutted his chin towards the painting.

Message received. 

Nie Huaisang went back to his work, intently aware of the attention on him. Slowly, he fell back into his focus, shifting his concentration to the edge of the water and the growth that lined it. He followed the shape of the willow up from the bank and along its branches, twisting high before falling delicately toward the water beneath. 

He absently noticed it when Jiang Wanyin moved, wandering behind him, assumedly to look at the painting from another perspective. Then his seat shifted as Jiang Wanyin sat on the bench beside him.

Nie Huaisang turned to look at him, mouth opening to ask—

Fingers grasped his chin and pulled his mouth open. Jiang Wanyin’s thumb was agonisingly close to his bottom lip.

Nie Huaisang was going to die. He could barely think to breathe. He was certain his sudden blush was noticeable.

“Your tongue is covered in ink.”

He resisted saying something scandalous. 

He hummed in agreement instead.

The grip loosened and Nie Huaisang was able to speak again, though his pulse thudded heavily in his throat. “I sometimes use it to wet the brush.”

“Why?”

“Habit more than anything,” Nie Huaisang admitted. 

An unconvinced hum. “What were you painting?”

“Ah,” he said, brightening, and turning some of the pages towards Jiang Wanyin. “I was painting the landscape over that way.” He gestured back towards the cove off to their right. “Lotus Pier truly is very beautiful.”

He watched with a nervous ache in his chest as Jiang Wanyin flicked through the pages, his expression inscrutable as he did. Those poor Jiang disciples must find review of their own work truly harrowing with such an enigmatic leader.

“These are beautiful,” Jiang Wanyin said finally. “You are extremely talented.”

The blush that had begun to fade burst back into bloom on his cheeks. “Ah-hah, I am so flattered you think so,” Nie Huaisang managed to get past his lips. “Do you paint?”

Jiang Wanyin scowled immediately, almost looking affronted at the suggestion. “I can,” he said. “My parents made sure of it, but I was never good at it.”

“Show me?”

Nie Huaisang slid closer to him until their sides were pressed up against one another, Jiang Wanyin’s body warm in the now-waning afternoon light. He heard the quick inhalation of breath at the touch, though he was not pushed away and neither did Jiang Wanyin move. Nie Huaisang slid a sheet of untouched paper in front of him, setting his inkstone and brush beside it, staring expectantly at it.

“Please?”

A put-upon sigh left his mouth, but Jiang Wanyin picked up the brush and began glaring out at the landscape, apparently choosing something. Nie Huaisang watched with hungry eyes as Jiang Wanyin swirled the brush through the ink and began placing lines on the paper, seeing whatever it was take shape. As time passed, he made out the shape of a crane, Nie Huaisang sighting the thing in the long grasses a short ways from them. 

When Jiang Wanyin set the brush down again, the crane stood proudly in the long grasses around it. Its proportions were a bit off—a too-long beak and legs mismatched—but you could tell what it was. Where the piece struggled was the line-work, too thick where it should be thin, and the lines too sharp and tight, ink blotting carelessly in the corners.

“It has…character, your crane,” Nie Huaisang said.

Jiang Wanyin growled, “It is a mess and not worth mentioning.”

“There is nothing so irredeemable about it. You’re too stiff, you need to relax more,” Nie Huaisang said, ignoring him. “Let me show you?”

Not waiting for an answer, Nie Huaisang shifted the paper sideways, the crane set aside and leaving them with the remainder of the page. He placed the brush back in Jiang Wanyin’s hold.

“I thought you were showing me,” Jiang Wanyin asked, turning the implement in his hand, half offering it back to Nie Huaisang.

“I am, just wait.” 

Jiang Wanyin stilled as Nie Huaisang placed his hand over his, his whole body strung like a guqin string at the contact. He wondered how recently anyone had touched Jiang Wanyin so carefully. Given the reaction, it must have been quite a while. Perhaps as long as Nie Huaisang.  

“Feel what I’m doing, hm?” Nie Huaisang said, leaning himself in close, telling himself it was easier to draw like this. It was certainly not because he could feel the heat of Jiang Wanyin through his clothes this close, or that he could smell the salt on his skin and the sharp, clean scent of his robes and the oils in his hair. Stamping down on the desire that curled within him, he shifted focus back to the crane and Jiang Wanyin’s hand in his. 

Jiang Wanyin allowed it, letting his hand be guided across the page. Nie Huaisang was deliberate in the lines he made, murmuring his thoughts as they worked, explaining this or that choice as he went. He was careful as he crested each corner, following the shape of the bird’s body, murmuring, “Relax,” as Jiang Wanyin’s wrist locked up at a difficult plume of feathers. The muscles beneath his slackened again and Nie Huaisang smiled to himself. 

After the crane, they moved onto the greenery around it, Nie Huaisang’s hand guiding them both onwards, his focus drifting away from Jiang Wanyin and down to the art blooming beneath the brush.

“Huaisang?”

“Hm?”

When he came back to himself, Nie Huaisang’s cheek was pressed tight up against Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder. He also realised he had been staring at a patch of lotus silently for what had to have been well over a minute, not even painting, just thinking.

He laughed bashfully, releasing Jiang Wanyin’s hand and looking down at their work. It was much better, though he had expected that. The lines were cleaner and the shading a touch more refined. The crane itself looked closer to its counterpart in the water, though did still have a few odd lines here and there.

He tipped his head up to meet Jiang Wanyin’s eyes, grinning brightly as he did. “See? Much better. You needed to relax more.”

Jiang Wanyin just hummed, something unreadable flashing across his face, and Nie Huaisang felt it reverberate in his chest. 

The moment lingered between them, Nie Huaisang captivated by the man before him, once again torn between the urge to paint him or kiss him. The afternoon light fell across his cheeks and eyes, lighting them in the deep brown of rich earth. He wondered if he asked if he would be allowed to draw him? Perhaps that was a question for after he had made his intentions clear. 

For now, Nie Huaisang pulled away, content with the progress he had made today. 

A few days later, their routine continuing unhindered, Nie Huaisang sat out in the grass surrounding Lotus Pier, breathing in the midday air. He was relaxing a short distance from the bank of the river with his eyes closed and face turned towards the sun, basking in it. The murmuring of the water nearby soothed him, his thoughts off floating downstream. He wondered if he might go for a walk.

Nie Huaisang turned and glanced over to the sound of footsteps through grass to see Jiang Wanyin headed towards him. He waved at the approach, holding up a hand to shield his eyes and block the sun. He suddenly regretted leaving his fan back in his room. 

“Good morning, Jiang Wanyin,” he greeted. “I am surprised to see you out here. Didn’t you have some meeting to see to around now?”

“I rearranged it,” he said, coming to a stop beside Nie Huaisang.

His stomach flipped at the words. Either Jiang Wanyin was skipping sect duties to spend time with him, or he had rearranged things to spend time with him. Either option boded well.

“Sit, sit,” he said, patting the grass next to him. “The weather is beautiful today.”

Jiang Wanyin did, folding his legs beneath him and joining him in the grass. Nie Huaisang glanced over the layers of silks, deep purples bordering on blue, as they fanned out around Jiang Wanyin, rippling in the sunlight. 

“This morning went well though?”

Jiang Wanyin nodded and fell into a candid explanation interspersed with a fair amount of griping about the ongoing squabbles going on between a trio of farming towns towards the southern end of the Jiang lands. It shouldn’t even be that much of his problem, but somehow it had become so, and all three parties were being a nightmare about coming to an agreement.

As he finished the explanation, Nie Huaisang flopped backwards on the grass, staring up at the sky with squinted eyes. 

“Lie down with me,” he said, flailing an arm in Jiang Wanyin’s direction and finding fabric. He gave it a little tug, heard an exasperated exhalation of breath, and then the grass around him moved as Jiang Wanyin did as asked and lay down beside him. If he tipped his head back and to the side, Nie Huaisang could just catch his eyes through a few long blades of grass. “Good, now, close your eyes.”

He watched as Jiang Wanyin did this as well, eyelashes falling closed and resting softly on his cheek. He suddenly felt there was not enough air out here, all of it catching in Nie Huaisang’s throat. He resisted the urge to touch Jiang Wanyin’s face through the grass.

Instead, he observed as Jiang Wanyin fell asleep almost immediately. His face relaxed, age and time appearing to just fall away from his skin, leaving the soft-faced boy he remembered from so many years ago. Nie Huaisang sat up very slowly, not wanting to wake him, shifting just enough to lift himself so that he was resting on his forearm, staring down at the sleeping Jiang Sect Leader. His hair cascaded over his shoulders and fanned out around, vanishing into the grass.

Nie Huaisang watched him sleep for some time, never before having such a perfect opportunity to just stare at the object of his affections for as long as he wished. He traced the shape of each feature of his face with his eyes, watching the play of the grass’ shadow over him. He spent some time on Zidian, examining the weapon’s design itself, and how it elegantly coiled itself around Jiang Wanyin’s hand, the ring snug around his finger.

Eventually, Nie Huaisang lay back down beside him, losing himself to thought and humming a quiet tune he remembered hearing a few years ago. His own eyes drooped low, falling prey himself to the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze across his face. He managed to stay awake though, or at least, he thought he did, though soon enough he heard a long, deep inhale come from beside him as movement and awareness returned to Jiang Wanyin.

“Welcome back,” Nie Huaisang said with a grin as Jiang Wanyin sat up, eyes still a little unfocused.

“Mn.” He looked up to the sky. It was sometime past midday now.

“Have somewhere you need to be?” Nie Huaisang asked. He hoped he hadn’t let Jiang Wanyin sleep overly long and disrupt his schedule too badly.

“No,” he replied. “I cleared the rest of today.”

“Ah, all mine then?”

A heated look flashed across Jiang Wanyin’s face before it was carefully tucked away. “For today.”

Nie Huaisang chuckled to himself and held up his bamboo container. “Water?”

“I can do you better,” Jiang Wanyin said and fished a qiankun pouch from his sleeve. He began taking out a small square of wood, several pouches of food, and a small jar of wine. He set it all between them in the grass, pressing down on the wooden square to make it as flat as possible, before setting out the food and wine. “I brought lunch,” Jiang Wanyin explained as he organised it all.

Nie Huaisang grinned at him, picking up one of shelled chestnuts he had seen and popping it into his mouth, biting into the soft body of it while eyeing up a few slices of pear. They chatted quietly as they ate, sharing the jar of wine between them and tipping it back into their mouths like vagabonds on the street. Jiang Wanyin relayed the latest letter received from Jin Ling and that things were still going generally well at Carp Tower. Jin Ling was apparently getting into a few arguments with the elder sect members about how things were done, and was holding his own. Jiang Wanyin had his own thoughts on the matter, and Nie Huaisang suggested a few slightly less confrontational ways Jin Ling could draw a few people around to his side. 

When both the food and wine were gone, and the conversation ran dry, Jiang Wanyin packed them both up. He set it all away in the pouch, then said, “Come, I wanted to show you something.”

Intrigued, Nie Huaisang followed and they walked slowly back towards Lotus Pier, Jiang Wanyin carefully leading him through the grasses and sneaking around the walls and onto the walkways that snaked over the water. Jiang Wanyin took them out onto the water, to the very end of the furthest pier and waited there.

Nie Huaisang stood on the edge beside Jiang Wanyin, a hand tucked behind his back. The long afternoon light glistened across the water. He inhaled deeply of the damp air around them.

“Thank you for the meal and the company,” Nie Huaisang said and then winked at him. “I realise you are a very sought after man.”

Jiang Wanyin let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know how you manage to laze around here for nearly two weeks without your sect burning down.”

“Firstly, I made sure everything would be in order before I left,” he said primly. “Secondly, delegation is a system I would highly recommend to you—surely one of your more trusted disciples could take on a few of your duties? Though, in truth, I have also been doing some work while you are indisposed.”

“Did you bring your fan out with you?” Jiang Wanyin asked after a beat.

Nie Huaisang’s brows drew in, confused. He turned to examine his partner’s face. “No? It was such a nice temperature today, I—Ah!”

A strong hand struck his back and Nie Huaisang’s words faded into a cry of surprise. He fell forward, arms outstretched instinctively to stop his fall, and tumbled beneath the water. He at least had the sense of mind to hold his breath.

The water was murky beneath the surface, Nie Huaisang losing track of which way was up for a moment, before the glint of the sun caught his eye and he surged upwards against the drag of his wet clothes.

He returned to the air, sputtering, then shouted, “Jiang Wanyin! What the fuck!”

The Jiang Sect Leader burst into uncontained laughter. His shoulders shook and arms wrapped around his body as he doubled over in hysterics.

Not to be outdone, Nie Huaisang surged forward, grabbing Jiang Wanyin by the knee, and pulling. 

For all that Nie Huaisang did not like combat, detested sabre play, and generally preferred life’s more simple comforts, da-ge had never let him laze about for long enough to let his skills truly wane. Nie Huaisang had maintained that strength, even after Nie Mingjue’s death, unwilling to disappoint his brother in his absence.

Nie Huaisang's golden core flared as he dragged Jiang Wanyin into the water with him. His body heavy where he fell atop Nie Huaisang, somewhat cushioned by the tension of the water, but they were both pulled beneath the surface regardless.

Hands latched onto Nie Huaisang’s robes and dragged him through the water, then, suddenly, they were both in the air again.

Nie Huaisang laughed at the sodden form of Jiang Wanyin as they both tread the surface. His long black hair was plastered to the side of his face, the slightly shorter parts he now routinely pulled back hanging forward, limp and dripping. His fine inner robes clung tightly to his skin, while the outer parts floated loosely around them. 

“I will drown you, Huaisang!” Jiang Wanyin spat and launched himself at him. Hands landed on his shoulders as Jiang Wanyin shoved Nie Huaisang back under the water.

Nie Huaisang sucked in a breath and tried not to laugh and lose what precious air he had.

In retaliation he tore at what he could reach of Jiang Wanyin, fingers catching in sodden robes and tugging. A brief tussle later they reemerged to the surface, Nie Huaisang sucking in as much air as he could. Jiang Wanyin looked just as much a mess and Nie Huaisang felt; his hair was half out of his tail, and clothes almost off his shoulders. Nie Huaisang could see hints of tanned throat and shoulders as they bobbed in the water.

He was going to get him for this.

Nie Huaisang circled him with a calculating eye, then threw himself at Jiang Wanyin. He pressed both hands down on either side of his shoulders, straight armed and body flush against Jiang Wanyin’s front. 

He didn’t move.

Nie Huaisang frowned down at him. He tried shoving him again but Jiang Wanyin remained firm.

“I’m standing on the riverbed,” Jiang Wanyin said with a cocky grin, their noses almost touching as he tipped his head up to meet Nie Huaisang. He watched as a bead of water fell from his own nose to track down Jiang Wanyin’s cheek.

“Cheater,” Nie Huaisang whispered, throat unexpectedly tight.

Hands gripped his waist and tossed him away, Nie Huaisang laughing as his back hit the water again. “That’s so unfair,” he whined through his laughter. “Truly Sect Leader Jiang is the lord of these waters.”

“I know them as well as the land,” Jiang Wanyin said proudly, stepping deeper into the water and swimming towards him. “Take off the outer robes, you won’t sink quite so fast.”

“I see, trying to undress me, Jiang Wanyin? How scandalous,” he teased. “You could just ask.”

“Drown then.”

Nie Huaisang laughed so hard he forgot to focus on not sinking and inhaled a mouthful of water. He coughed hard, arms flailing quickly to raise himself above the water. 

A hand wrapped around his waist, Jiang Wanyin suddenly right beside him and holding him aloft.

“Thank you,” he spluttered. “Perhaps you were right.”

“I often am.”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at him.

They drifted back towards the dock and Nie Huaisang shucked off his outer robes and shoes, placing them on the edge of the wooden walkway. He was left in his innermost robe and trousers, floating lightly around him in the temperate water. Jiang Wanyin had done the same, his clothes set up on the dock and already swimming further into the river, watching Nie Huaisang where he clung to the edge of the walkway.

“You know, you could have just asked me if you wanted to swim so badly,” he said, wading into the water and swimming over to Jiang Wanyin. 

“Less entertaining.”

Nie Huaisang splashed a wall of water in his face. “A terrible host. I take back all my kind words from earlier.”

Jiang Wanyin just splashed him back.

They swam around for some time, Jiang Wanyin pointing out different fish and frogs and waterfowl around them. Occasionally, he would thieve a few lotus seeds from the pods around them, handing them over to Nie Huaisang with a careful hand. Nie Huaisang slipped them into his mouth as they went, listening with interest and his thoughts getting very lost in the way Jiang Wanyin’s inner robe moved around him. Teasing him. They were a deep blue, and unfortunately not very transparent, but they did cling and illustrate the shape of him when above the water, and billowed like the tide itself beneath it. Nie Huaisang’s arms were exhausted by the time he was dragged back to shore, the sun already sinking toward the horizon.

They climbed out of the water, a pair of bedraggled men grinning at each other like children. Picking up their still wet clothes from the pier and stepping into shoes that squelched horridly, they snuck back into Lotus Pier proper. Jiang Wanyin guided them back into his own rooms, chambers that Nie Huaisang had yet to see. 

As expected, they were very fine. Similar pieces of furniture filled this room, an echo of the room Nie Huaisang was staying in. It was surprisingly tidy, though Nie Huaisang was not sure why he had expected clutter. There were certainly many things scattered about, but much like his study, everything clearly had a place and was set in it: small sculptures, scrolls, books, fine porcelain, a variety of weapons, all had their place on shelves and furniture. He was also fairly certain he spotted the spring book he had accused Jiang Wanyin of stealing from him in one corner. He smiled at it.

To the left chamber was Jiang Wanyin’s bed and personal things which he stole a quick glance at, but decided that he was being nosey enough. Besides, if things went well, he hoped to explore that room more thoroughly in the future. The chamber to the right was a dining area with a small fire-pit and hanging hook for boiling water for tea. The main chamber continued forward to a large set of windows overlooking a small courtyard which was enterable by a door to the right.

“What is this?” Nie Huaisang asked, pausing in his slow walk around the main chamber at a low table with a teapot and set of cups, clearly unused and filled with dried flowers. A single hairpin made of white jade and shaped in a lotus at the end was set beside the cups. It was set beneath a small window in the dining portion of his rooms, the sunlight glinting off the porcelain.

Jiang Wanyin looked over from setting their wet clothes outside for the disciples to pick up. As his eyes landed on the pot, his expression sobered. “That was jiejie’s favourite set, and her pin.”

Oh. Nie Huaisang nodded and was very careful not to touch. 

Once Jiang Wanyin had set a fresh teapot to hang over the low coals, he guided Nie Huaisang over to the large window overlooking the courtyard and they settled together in the two chairs there.

“Did you keep many of Chifeng-Zun’s things?” Jiang Wanyin asked suddenly.

Nie Huaisang nodded. “I did. I don’t think I discarded anything if I could help it. Anything I could use, I kept to use, anything I couldn’t, I put into storage for future use,” he said, thinking it through. “Except Baxia, for…obvious reasons.”

“I wish I had more of jie’s things,” Jiang Wanyin said, hands still in his lap and eyes drawn towards the pot. “She did not leave much behind here when she married. At least some of it has apparently ended up with Jin Ling. He showed me the last time I visited to confirm they were hers, and that he was not being lied to.” Jiang Wanyin rubbed at his forehead. “One day I fear to see one of her things in the hair of some damned Jin woman.”

“I understand,” Nie Huaisang said. 

Jiang Wanyin hummed.

They turned the conversation away to something lighter, Nie Huaisang seeking Jiang Wanyin’s thoughts on the new Zhao Sect Leader. The man had to step up to the position after the unexpected illness of his father over the last year. He seemed fine enough, though from Nie Huaisang’s few, brief interactions the man seemed very susceptible to swinging his opinion towards whoever he wished to impress most, which was both an absolute annoyance, and could also be used quite handily if needed. From there, they discussed the migratory seasons of a few local birds, or rather, Nie Huaisang informed Jiang Wanyin of the patterns. He had had quite a fixation on birds in his youth, and had consumed most every book available to him on the topic. Jiang Wanyin, very kindly, listened without complaint.

“You look nice like this,” Jiang Wanyin said absently when Nie Huaisang fell silent, staring out the window to the garden below. His fingers lightly tugged on one of the now dry strands of hair that framed Nie Huaisang’s face, the shorter sections having fallen out of his hair upon hitting the water.

Air caught in Nie Huaisang’s throat. The gentle tone, reaching hands, and the fact he was suddenly reminded they were both still dressed in only inner-robes and pants, was sending all the wrong signals to his body. He felt heat rise in his cheeks.

“It suits you better,” Jiang Wanyin continued, unhindered by Nie Huaisang’s obvious emotion. “You look too harsh with it all pulled back.”

Nie Huaisang ducked his head away, truly wishing in this moment to have his fan to hide himself away. He cast a furtive glance back in Jiang Wanyin’s direction. He was still being watched.

He sucked in a breath, willing his embarrassment away, and smiled. “Ah, ah, Jiang Wanyin flatters this one. You should know better, you do the same,” Nie Huaisang returned. “I never see that sweet flop of hair on the side any more, it always made you look very handsome.”  There was the wide-eyed stare he was looking for! How does that feel, Jiang Wanyin! Then he sighed. “But we both know it makes us look older, which is rather the point when dealing with the elder generation,” he lamented. “Thank the heavens we are not the youngest anymore; Sect Leader Jin has that honour now.”

“Mn. At least he is beginning to get some of his father’s height,” Jiang Wanyin said. “As foolish as it is, it will help.”

Nie Huaisang chuckled. “Unfortunately true.”

A knock at the door interrupted them, and two Jiang disciples brought in a tray of food and wine, silently setting it on the table.

Nie Huaisang shivered as the chill of the evening caught him, the air from the disciples’ entry rushing over him. His inner robes were still a touch damp and he had no dry outer ones on hand. Jiang Wanyin frowned at him.

“Ah, I might just return to my rooms before we eat,” Nie Huaisang said, making to stand up. “I am becoming rather cold—”

“Stay,” Jiang Wanyin cut in, a brief hand on Nie Huaisang’s shoulder stopping him as he stood up himself. He watched in fascination as Jiang Wanyin began digging through a trunk of his in the corner. He quickly returned with two sets of robes in his arms. One, he set aside, assumedly for himself, the other he passed to Nie Huaisang. He thanked Jiang Wanyin and pulled it on. It was very comfortable and made of a thick, warm fabric, if overly large on his smaller frame. He grinned up at Jiang Wanyin when he was done, the other already watching him with a faint quirk to his lips.

“You look good in purple,” Jiang Wanyin said, pulling on his own clothes. 

Nie Huaisang raised an eyebrow at him. “I look good in most colours.”

That earned him a shake of the head, Jiang Wanyin shepherding him over to their meal. They shared it in silence, Nie Huaisang famished after such a long excursion in the water. Jiang Wanyin very thoughtfully refilled his tea as he found himself rather thirsty as well. 

“Too much for you today?” Jiang Wanyin asked, watching Nie Huaisang blink slowly at his bowl when he was done. The exhaustion had hit him all at once. He was not used to being that active all day, and swimming was something he only did rarely.

“I do find myself quite tired,” he said, looking up at his dinner companion. “I think I am in need of a quiet evening.”

“Of course.”

He stood up on weary legs, drawing the robe closer about himself where it had begun to slip from his shoulders.

“Goodnight, Wanyin,” Nie Huaisang said softly, a hand brushing lightly over Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder as he made his exit from the room. “I will return your robe tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Huaisang.”

He let out a breath as the door shut with a soft thud, the fresh air of Lotus Pier washing over his face. 

Nie Huaisang returned to his rooms and settled in the lounging chair by the window, a book resting in his hand and his face curled into the soft fabric of Jiang Wanyin’s clothing. He inhaled slowly, eyes closing and imagining the man himself pressed this close to him. 

He was going to seduce him if it was the last thing he did; but he was going to do it properly. He felt secure in the knowledge that Jiang Wanyin wanted him in some way. It was enough to begin with at least. What he needed was to get him alone. Away from all his disciples and his duties—

A knock rapped at the door.

“Enter,” Nie Huaisang called, setting his book down on the table beside the seat.

Li Yanlin entered, sabre slung across his back. He stepped inside, bowed before Nie Huaisang, and stood upright, his shoulders to attention.

Nie Huaisang settled his hands in his lap. “What is it?”

“A report from the midlands.”

What perfect timing.

Nie Huaisang stared at himself in the bronze mirror as he dressed for the day. All his layers and airs had been comfortably put on and he had only his hair left to do. He was considering Jiang Wanyin’s words, rolling them over in his mind with careful consideration. Teeth worried his lower lip as his fingers pulled the shorter strands at the front of his face free, framing his features. 

It did make him look softer. He knew that. That had been the point, to look less like that. He just…to hell with it. 

Nie Huaisang left them hanging there and did the rest of his hair up in an appropriately complex fashion, twining his braids around his guan. He ignored his reflection as he exited the room.

At breakfast, Jiang Wanyin looked him over, and there was a faint smile at the edge of his lips as his gaze landed on Nie Huaisang’s hair. 

Curse him, Nie Huaisang whispered within his own thoughts, curse him and his handsome face and his stupid smile.

He twitched as one of Jiang Wanyin’s fingers curled around one of the loose sections of hair. He raised his eyebrow at Nie Huaisang when he caught his eye.

“Shut up,” Nie Huaisang bit out, slapping his hand away.

Jiang Wanyin just kept smirking at him, the ass.

The day passed quickly, Jiang Wanyin once again busy with his duties, and Nie Huaisang kept himself entertained, though he mostly spent it in an excited haze, wandering his chambers and smacking his fan against the palm of his hand. He hoped this worked. He really did. He didn’t know how much longer he could resist kissing the man whenever he smiled at him without losing his mind.

So, after dinner, he sprung his trap. 

They were both lounging in the courtyard of Jiang Wanyin’s chambers. Nie Huaisang had his fan open at his chest, washing a light breeze over his face.

“So, I have a proposition,” Nie Huaisang said.

“Hm?”

“Run away with me,” he suggested, fluttering his fan coquettishly and raising his eyebrows at the Jiang Sect Leader. 

Jiang Wanyin froze in place, eyes darting to Nie Huaisang’s.

“I think you’ve forgotten how to have real fun, Sect Leader Jiang,” Nie Huaisang continued. “Yesterday was a good start, but—let’s sneak out like we used to. Just us, no disciples.”

A spark of interest hung in the air between them, Jiang Wanyin not refusing, but also not leaping at the offer. He had moved from his stilled position, shoulders relaxing as he sat back in his seat with all the authority of the Jiang Sect Leader on his expression.

“And what, exactly, will we be doing?”

“Relaxing. Have fun. Maybe some drinks and a night or two away from all of this,” Nie Huaisang said with a wave of his hand in the general direction of Lotus Pier.

Jiang Wanyin did not appear moved by the prospect, instead sipping passively at his tea.

Nie Huaisang huffed. “Fine, I’ll give you a little incentive; there’s something haunting the edges of a town just beyond the border of your lands. The town also happens to have a very highly recommended thermal bath.”

That earned him a sliver of an expression; a frown caught in his brows. It was not the ideal reaction, but it was the beginning of an agreement.

“Wanyin, come on,” he whined, shoving at his shoulder like he did when they were younger. “It will be nice! What could you possibly enjoy more than a few days away from your sect for some night-hunting followed by a well deserved soak in a spring and a jar of wine? Please? I’ll even help with the night-hunt.”

“Now that, I would love to see,” Jiang Wanyin said, giving him a slow once over that burned at Nie Huaisang’s skin.

“Then you’ll come? Just us?” Nie Huaisang pressed, leaning forward as if imparting a secret. “We can sneak out tomorrow morning.”

There it was again, Jiang Wanyin’s focus slipping down to his mouth. 

There was such a temptation to kiss him now. Just throw away his vague plan and lean in and taste the object of his desires for so many years. Nie Huaisang’s own gaze slid down to the curve of Jiang Wanyin’s lips, attractively shaped, though too often downturned. While Nie Huaisang enjoyed his derisive expressions, the sharp curl to his mouth when making a biting comment, he even more adored when he smiled.

As he looked back up, their eyes met. 

Ah, he had been caught as well.

Nie Huaisang laughed and backed off, hiding his blush behind the silk of his fan. 

“Sure,” Jiang Wanyin said finally. “Let’s go.”

He beamed at him, fan snapping shut with a crack. “Ah, wonderful. How wonderful.”

They snuck out the next morning, just before the first rays of light peeked over the horizon. Jiang Wanyin striding into his room and shaking him awake, ensuring he was dressed and ready as they slunk out the side gate and through a few back-streets of the city. When they emerged onto farmland, Jiang Wanyin pulled Sandu from his qiankun pouch and then its sheath, the blade hovering before him.

Nie Huaisang sighed and pulled his own sabre from his pouch.

“So you do own a sword,” Jiang Wanyin commented, cocking his chin toward it.

Nie Huaisang pouted at him. “Don’t be rude, you’ve seen it before.” 

Jiang Wanyin snorted. “Sure, to give to the Wen at the Indoctrination Camp.”

Nie Huaisang fake-gasped, scandalised. “You liar. You saw it in Cloud Recesses.”

“Briefly.”

In a show of great maturity, he stuck his tongue out at Jiang Wanyin and set his blade in the air. “Shall we?”

They hopped upon their swords and began the journey, Nie Huaisang leading the way towards where he knew the town was. Thankfully, the weather, while cloudy, stayed clear from rain, and they managed to make the flight within a couple of hours. They touched down on the edge of the town, Nie Huaisang tucking his sword back in his pouch while Jiang Wanyin kept his clutched in his left hand. How dashing.

Nie Huaisang pulled his fan from his sleeve and flipped it open, lightly fanning himself out of habit as they walked. The town itself, Liangzhai, seemed quite well off. The streets were clean and the houses well made and well kept. The people they passed were dressed in clean clothes and much of it appeared of decent quality.

“Do you have a contact here?” Jiang Wanyin asked, looking around them as well. 

“Two actually,” Nie Huaisang said. “The thermal bath’s owner and a man with a large trading business within the town. Both want this dealt with quite badly. It is affecting trade and visitors.”

“Which is closer?”

“The business owner, Zhang Shoushan. The springs are on the northern edge of town, we can stop there on our way out.”

Nie Huaisang followed the instructions his disciple had procured for them, leading them to a handsome building on the corner of the street. They entered with Jiang Wanyin leading the way. Inside, they were greeted by a young man with a focused expression and a severe bun seated at a desk. He barely looked up as they approached.

“May I help you?” he asked, continuing to write whatever it was he was working on.

Jiang Wanyin replied, “I believe we are expected.”

“And you are?”

“Sandu Shengshou,” he said flatly. “Jiang Cheng, courtesy Wanyin. Yunmeng Jiang’s Sect Leader.”

The man’s head shot up, eyes wide as he took in the two of them properly. Both finely dressed and Jiang Wanyin in the deep purple of the Jiang, his famous sword and spiritual weapon visible on his person.

Nie Huaisang quickly hid his face behind his fan, forcing down the laughter that was bubbling in his chest. The boy hastily bowed to them both, muttering something about letting his master know they were here, and vanishing upstairs for a few minutes. When he returned, he ushered them upstairs and into the man’s office.

“Sect Leader Jiang and his companion,” the young man announced them, opening the door and beckoning them inside.

“Oh, your companion,” Nie Huaisang whispered to Jiang Wanyin from behind his fan, who raised an eyebrow at him in return.

They entered a very tidy room. It was quite spacious, a large desk sitting in the centre stacked high with books and scrolls. A collection of rather nice brushes were set to the side, as well as an incredibly beautiful inkstone, oval shaped and carved with flowers. He was too far away to discern what kind.

The man standing behind the desk was clearly Zhang Shoushan. He was an older man, likely somewhere in his sixties, finely dressed in deep blue robes and hair tied up and off his face in a tasteful silver guan. His hair was greying in stripes, obvious in the way they pulled back from his temples. He also sported a tidy beard, trimmed and manicured. This was clearly a man who enjoyed his position, but did not let the wealth go completely to his head. It boded well for them.

“Welcome,” he greeted Jiang Wanyin, bowing deeply and smiling with all the grace of a man blindsided by his guests. “I am Zhang Shoushan, and I am at your service in solving this terrible problem plaguing our town. Thank you for your prompt arrival, the people of Liangzhai will sleep soundly tonight knowing that such a renowned cultivator and sect leader is here to deal with it.”

“Thank you,” Jiang Wanyin returned, curt but polite. Nie Huaisang smiled behind his fan, watching him in profile, regal head held high. Confidence fit him well.

“And your companion is?” Zhang Shoushan asked, finally glancing over to Nie Huaisang.

“I am pleased to meet you,” Nie Huaisang greeted, bowing. “I believe it was my disciple who you spoke with? I am Sect Leader Nie, Nie Huaisang.”

The expression froze on the man’s face. He wondered which shock was taking more of its toll. Was it another sect leader wandering into his office unannounced, or was it that the Head Shaker himself had come. He knew his reputation. Never seen out on night-hunts. Never seen doing anything useful. Sitting back and looking confused at most requests. He must be shaking this man’s perceptions of him to the core. It was rather amusing to watch. Perhaps the people of Liangzhai were in fact now going to sleep less soundly knowing he was here. Nie Huaisang tried very hard not to laugh.

“Welcome, welcome, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well, Sect Leader Nie.” Zhang Shoushan recovered well, professionalism sliding back into place. “We are honoured to have two sect leaders of such distinguished sects come to aid us in our time of need. Please, sit. Tea will come shortly.”

“Please,” Nie Huaisang said, settling down comfortably in the seat provided, and smiling at him. 

Jiang Wanyin, it seemed, was much more interested in cutting to the chase. “Tell us about your issue.”

“Of course, I would not wish to take up too much of your valuable time,” he said. “It began a month or so ago. The first sign was a delivery expected to a local textile house never arriving, and when word was sent to the dispatching party, they had claimed they had sent the required items.” He shook his head. “It caused us quite a lot of trouble, all parties thinking a scam was at play. Then it happened again. A another delivery, this one of grain and fruits from a different city. Then, a group of travellers vanished, the keeper of the hot springs expecting their arrival, and once again, not appearing.”

“How many people, all together, do you estimate have vanished in these weeks?” Jiang Wanyin asked, posture casual, but his attention was as focused as a hunting dog.

“We think around fifteen, and that is those that we were expecting,” he said. “It is possible there are more, travellers with no pre-announced plans or destinations. It has been terrible for business.”

“Any survivors?” Nie Huaisang asked.

“One,” he said. “She said she heard nothing but the rustling of leaves in the wind, then something attacked their group. She ran and hid, somehow evading the creature.”

“Did she see anything?”

“No, it attacked shortly after nightfall. It was dark.”

“Is she available to be spoken to?” 

He shook his head. “She has left the town, too terrified to stay. We could not speak sense into her. We do not know if she made it to her destination.”

Nie Huaisang cringed. Whatever this thing was, it was bloodthirsty.

“Was her campsite investigated?”

“Yes, we sent someone to look,” he said, stroking his beard. “They reported strange tracks, nothing familiar. There was blood around the campsite. That was when we decided to reach out for sect assistance.”

It was at this moment that the young man from before entered again, a tray of tea in his hands. He worked unobtrusively, Jiang Wanyin continuing to ask further questions, as he set the tea before them all, then bowing out of the room. Nie Huaisang did catch a pointed glance from Zhang Shoushan that suggested he was going to learn something about finding out who everyone was before dropping them on him unannounced. 

They drank their tea, Jiang Wanyin pressing for as much information as he could. Nie Huaisang let him, happy to drink quite a fine jasmine tea, savouring the flavour in his mouth. If nothing else, the assistant did make good tea, and really, that had to count for something.

When Jiang Wanyin appeared satisfied with the answers to his questions, they thanked Zhang Shoushan and headed north out of town on the main road. Nie Huaisang mostly followed his nose toward the softly sulphurous smell, and they soon found themselves at the entrance to the springs. This, like much of the rest of the town, was beautifully kept. The gardens were tidy and the buildings just as equally elegant. Red-painted wood and rich, dark natural timber lined the exterior, with a well-calligraphed sign designating their location. Oh he was so looking forward to staying here after they were done. He just had to suffer one night-hunt until then. 

Upon entry they were greeted and quickly pointed into the office of the owner, Zhou Hui. He said much the same to them; nearly twenty people had gone missing, he had heard rumours of the one surviving woman, but had never met her.  

The only new piece of information they received was: “We hear something moving, some nights,” Zhou Hui said, the blood from his face draining, even as he remembered it. “It moves around the edge of the town, not too close to our buildings, but…it sounds…large, and it does not sound like any animal I have ever seen.”

“Did you see or smell anything?” Jiang Wanyin pressed. 

The springs owner shook his head. “The scent from the water hides much,” he said, “and none of us would be so foolish to dare look outside when we hear it. We do not know where those people have gone, but I doubt it is anywhere good.”

Nie Huaisang’s current bet was death. That was the most common answer. Sometimes you might find a handful of people kept alive in a cave or den or web for some horrific reason or another, but most of the time, people were food or fun.

They learned nothing more after that, and Zhou Hui was thanked for his time, Jiang Wanyin exiting the building. When he was gone, Nie Huaisang leant up against the desk of the springs’ owner and placed a pouch of coins before him. “When we return, we would like two rooms and a private bath, thank you.”

The man bowed. “We will ensure they are ready for your return.”

Nie Huaisang gave the man a nod and followed out behind Jiang Wanyin.

“Out into the forest then?” Nie Huaisang asked, frowning at the thickening clouds above. “I hope it doesn’t rain.”

Jiang Wanyin just began walking.

“Ah,” Nie Huaisang sighed, walking alongside Jiang Wanyin, fanning himself and staring at the wilderness passing them by. “This reminds me of that little trip we made after Cloud Recesses, chasing after Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji and that stupid Yin Iron.”

“I remember.”

“Some of it was fun,” Nie Huaisang continued, half watching Jiang Wanyin from the corner of his eye. “I didn’t enjoy Dafan Mountain with Wen Qing though. You scared the life out of us in that accursed cave.”

There it was, a stuttered blink at her name. Then it was hidden away as Jiang Wanyin turned to smirk at him. “It was funny though.”

Nie Huaisang smacked him with the flat edge of his fan. “For you maybe. I was certain we were going to die there.”

That earned him an eye roll and a returned whack on his arm. They walked a little further, shoes crunching in the dirt road while Nie Huaisang stared at a small bird lighted on a nearby branch.

“Did anything ever happen between you?” Nie Huaisang asked, feigning disinterest, but his heart was pounding.

“Eh?”

“You and Wen Qing,” Nie Huaisang clarified, turning to look at him now. “You seemed…nervous in her presence.” And hadn’t that been a jagged knife in his teenage heart. He had had such a crush that threatened to burst out of his chest at any moment, Jiang Wanyin distractingly handsome and fiery in all the ways Nie Huaisang liked. Quick witted and sharp tongued—so of course he had noticed the way Jiang Wanyin would fluster and flutter about Wen Qing, tripping over himself to catch her attention. Of course he had noticed it. He had hated it.

“You are too observant, did you know that?”

“Da-ge used to tell me that all the time,” he agreed, but Nie Huaisang refused to back down on this. The curiosity had been gnawing at his bones for over a decade now. “So?” he pressed.

Silence. Just the sound of birds in the trees and the movement of their feet along the dirt road.

Then Jiang Wanyin spoke to the air between them, “I…had hoped there might be.” He shook his head. “I offered her my suit once, but…it was not taken up. She gave my gift back after Wei Wuxian took them to the Burial Mounds.”

Jealousy roiled bitterly in Nie Huaisang’s chest, a long buried emotion—and a fruitless one at that. The poor woman was long gone from this life and deserved none of his fury. He’d even rather liked her, she had seemed sensible.

“I sometimes wondered…if she was on her way to me when Wei Wuxian found her,” Jiang Wanyin said, voice quiet in a way it not often was. “She still had that comb. After everything, she still had it to give back to me.”

Nie Huaisang closed his eyes for a moment, breathing out.

“There’s not much use in living in maybes,” Nie Huaisang said, stepping closer and bumping their elbows together companionably. “At least you tried. It’s more than many can say.”

Jiang Wanyin hummed, tipping his head in Nie Huaisang’s direction.

“And you?”

“Huh? Me?” Nie Huaisang stumbled and had his fan out and in front of his face in seconds, instinctually hiding away.

Jiang Wanyin snorted, head turning to fixate on him fully, never pausing in his walking. Dryly, he said, “Yes, you, Nie Huaisang. You are pretty in your own way after all, surely you’ve had some prospects?”

Pretty in his own way? Nie Huaisang was going to smother the man in his sleep. 

“Rude,” he said instead, sniffing as though hurt.

Jiang Wanyin just rolled his eyes.

“No prospects so far, besides, I couldn’t have afforded such a distraction in recent years, and anyone I liked before that had their eyes elsewhere.” He let out a laugh. “That and da-ge liked to chase anyone off who looked at me too long. It was difficult to get very far with Baxia looming threateningly in the distance.” He grinned up at Jiang Wanyin. “Maybe one day, though.”

Another thoughtful hum. “No Baxia now.”

“No.”

He knew that he needed to be careful with how he approached Jiang Wanyin with his feelings. He suspected that being too intense or pushing too fast was going to do nothing but send him running. He needed to not be a detriment to either of their positions, but especially Jiang Wanyin’s. He knew how much his role as Jiang Sect Leader meant to him. As much as Nie Huaisang would always, always want more, he would also take what he could, and if that meant something casual, something fun, then he would accept it. He could worry about anything more after that.

A hand on his chest stopped Nie Huaisang in his tracks, Jiang Wanyin’s grip firm. He glanced from the hand to his face to the direction Jiang Wanyin was looking in. Something like white paper or fine silk lay in a pile around the edge of a tree. Quite a lot of it, actually. 

Jiang Wanyin stepped closer, Nie Huaisang very glad to keep his distance.

“Snake-skin,” Jiang Wanyin said, poking at it with the hilt of Sandu.

Nie Huaisang cringed. He did not like snakes. Snakes like this usually wanted to just kill you, eat you, or in a shocking turn of events, kill and then eat you. And judging by the size of the discarded skin? It could likely eat him whole.

“Stay close,” Jiang Wanyin said and Nie Huaisang was not about to argue. He walked quickly to catch up to him, actively trying to keep his steps light. He did not want this thing sensing them before they knew where it was. They moved carefully through the forest now, Jiang Wanyin following thick tracks left in the soft earth, both of their eyes peeled for anything strange.

Nie Huaisang jumped as he felt something drip down his cheek.

Jiang Wanyin spun to face him, hand already on the hilt of Sandu—then paused. “It’s rain,” Jiang Wanyin said, thumb swiping across Nie Huaisang’s cheek. As if illustrating his point, Nie Huaisang watched several nearby bushes shift with the falling water, followed by another drop on his nose and a handful on Jiang Wanyin. 

“Hopefully it will stay light,” Nie Huaisang said as they began moving again.

Apparently, luck was against them that day. Within the length of an incense stick, the water was falling in great torrents. It was soaking, it was cold, and it ruined their visibility. Currently they were huddled under a large tree in the hopes it would settle, but it did not appear to be going that way.

“Gods be damned,” Jiang Wanyin cursed, staring up at the sky as droplets that pushed through the foliage fell onto his upturned face.

“Should we come back tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “Judging by the shed skin and the missing people, this creature is big and only growing. I don’t want to leave it here another night and let it feast on some poor traveller before we can deal with it.”

That was terribly noble of him. He couldn’t exactly begrudge Jiang Wanyin his opinion, but Nie Huaisang was also soaking wet and the temperature had dropped substantially. They remained huddled for a short time longer, Nie Huaisang happy to use the excuse to lean up against the other as they waited. When the rain made no effort to let up, they gave up on waiting and began moving again, Jiang Wanyin in the lead.

His shoulders were tense, Nie Huaisang watching him move like a tiger through the forest; alert and claws ready to strike. His grip on his sword hilt was tight, Zidian quiet around it. Jiang Wanyin’s right hand hovered just above his hip, unarmed, but ready to draw Sandu at a moment’s notice. Nie Huaisang was just trying his best to keep quiet.

Jiang Wanyin’s hand flashed out in a warning. 

Nie Huaisang stilled. He glanced around with his eyes, not daring to move even his head. He took quiet, shallow breaths, cursing the sound of his thudding heart in his ears.

Then he heard it. Movement. Almost like the rustling of leaves but…lower. Something was sliding through the forest up ahead of them. Something big. Certainly something big enough to have left that skin on the forest floor.

Oh, he was filled with regret. He should have just kissed Jiang Wanyin back in Lotus Pier when he had the chance. Now they were going to die out here and—

The sound stopped and that was so much worse. He watched, with his heart lodged in his throat, as Jiang Wanyin’s free hand slowly began reaching for the hilt of his sword.

Everything happened very quickly.

“Move!” Jiang Wanyin shouted and Nie Huaisang did. He leapt sideways, pressing himself up against the large trunk of a nearby tree, flattening himself against it.

A great, writhing, scaled body shot past him, and he gasped in a breath. It smelled awful, too much like blood and festering dark places, the scent clinging to his throat. He stared at it, wide eyed, as it turned back towards them. It was at least twenty chi long, covered in perfect, glistening black scales along the back of it slowing merging to blood-red scales on its belly. Its face was the worst part. Elongated like a snake’s, but enough human in the features to be horribly unsettling. Its human mouth opened unnaturally wide, revealing rows of sharp teeth as it scented the air, forked tongue flashing.

Something about it was pulling at his memory.

The sound of Sandu being drawn sung through the forest, the crackle of Zidian soon joining it. Nie Huaisang did his best to stay small and unobtrusive while Jiang Wanyin drew the creature’s attention. It was clear he was sizing it up, testing its defences as he went. The creature was fast, but not hugely manoeuvrable around the forest trees, whereas Jiang Wanyin was, darting through the woodland with all the grace of a dancer. He struck at it as they battled, Sandu taking strikes when opportunities arose—but when the blade continued to bounce harmlessly off the scales, Nie Huaisang’s hope shrivelled in his chest. Zidian fared a little better, the whip catching on scales and appearing to yank a few upwards, any blood it caused lost to the rain.

His feet slipped in the mud as he scurried around the tree trying to remain out of sight as the two of them fought. A gasp punched its way out of his mouth as his ankle twisted unnaturally. He staggered upright, seemingly alright, panting hard at the spike of anxiety that had travelled up his ankle to his heart. Nie Huaisang quickly tested his foot on the ground and was pleased that it only earned him a slight twinge. Then, mind spinning, he looked to see where the creature was.

It was turned his way. Its crimson eyes staring unblinkingly at him, glowing in the distance. Watching. 

Finally worked out who the weaker target was, huh?

Damn.

The creature shrieked as it lunged at him, teeth flashing and the sound grating to his senses. It rumbled, deep, Nie Huaisang able to feel the vibrations in his chest, but with a grating, harsh tone layered atop it. It was not loud, but it was unnerving, rattling his mind. 

Nie Huaisang ran, dodging to the opposite side of the tree and winding his way through the forest, trying to get closer to Jiang Wanyin. He was hard to see in the shadow of the forest with the rain falling from above, but the bright flash of Zidian guided him home.

He came careening into the other man. Jiang Wanyin caught Nie Huaisang at his forearms, glancing over him with frantic eyes. 

He could hear the creature coming for them. He would be in the way like this.

Nie Huaisang threw himself away from Jiang Wanyin, darting this way and that. He caught snatches of movement between the trees, though the rain dripping down his face made it nigh impossible to be sure. He was breathing hard and trying to keep his footing in the wet sludge of the ground.

“Just use your fucking sword!” Jiang Wanyin yelled after him. “Aim for the belly or missing scales!”

Absolutely not. 

He came to a stop as the monster turned sharply into his path. He did the same, darting off at an odd angle. He caught the lightning strike of Zidian from the corner of his eye, the flash of Sandu following.

There was just—something here he couldn’t quite recall! He thought he remembered da-ge telling him some tale about a creature like this. A monstrous snake with human features and sharp teeth and near-impenetrable scales. He’d found some way to weaken it in the end…there was something that saved them—something—!

“Fire!” Nie Huaisang shouted, ducking beneath the swing of its tail. “Its scales are susceptible to fire!”

“It’s raining!” Jiang Wanyin shouted back.

Oh for fuck’s sake.

Nie Huaisang thought hard, mind rifling through every spell and talisman and trick he knew for something that would work in this accursed rain and—

Oh, well, it was worth a go. 

He closed his eyes, pulling deep from the well of his memory, picturing the lines of the spell, remembering the moment he saw it drawn.

“Huaisang!”

He opened them to see the great maw of the snake wide and moving for him. Teeth dripping with dark blood and rain.

His breath stopped in his chest.

He drew the lines in the air, infusing it with his spiritual energy, and cast.

Fire erupted from it. A blast that lit the darkening forest in a blazing light. The air filled with flame and the creature screamed, its scales alight in the darkness. It rushed for him, livid in its anger.

He couldn’t even move. The spell had sucked up too much of his spiritual energy. He swayed in place, trying to get his legs to work. 

It lunged and he collapsed to the ground, eyes squeezed shut, trying to shield himself from the impact

He awaited his death with a breathless prayer—!

And startled when he felt hot liquid splash over him instead.

He looked up.

Jiang Wanyin stood atop the beast a short distance from him, Sandu pierced directly through its skull where the scales had burned away. He was breathing heavily, robes stained with the blood of the creature and staring at Nie Huaisang with wide eyes.

Nie Huaisang staggered to his feet.

Jiang Wanyin pulled his sword free and leapt towards him, hand outstretched and stepping in close. “Are you alright?” His hands darted over Nie Huaisang, careful to avoid the blood, as he checked him over.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he assured him. He was exhausted and he was disgusting, but he was fine. “This is ruined though,” Nie Huaisang said, sighing down at his clothes, covered in thick blood and singed at the edges. The viscous blood clung to him, not even the rain washing it from his skin and clothes. There was no saving this one.

“Just be glad I saved your life,” Jiang Wanyin barked, all the concern falling away to sharp anger. “Next time, use your sword.”

“One day, I will explain to you about our blades,” Nie Huaisang bit back, hackles raising. “There’s a reason I touch my sabre even less than I did in my youth.”

Jiang Wanyin let out a sharp breath and shook his head, turning away.

“Where are you going?” 

“To find us somewhere to camp tonight.”

Camp!? Nie Huaisang groaned. “Can’t we go back to town?”

“Huaisang, it is raining too hard to see,” Jiang Wanyin replied, not waiting for him. “It’s nearly past sunset and you will catch your death. Also, that blood on you is likely corrosive, I’d rather have you changed and dry before your skin peels off.”

Alright. Fair enough. 

He followed.

Jiang Wanyin shortly found an outcropping of rock for them to spend the night beneath. It didn’t go deep enough to be considered a cave, but there was more than enough space for them to spend the night there and remain untouched by the weather.

“Take your clothes off,” Jiang Wanyin said when they were out of the rain. He did the same and peeled himself out of his outer robe. “Anything with the blood on it. Don’t touch your face.”

He could already feel the blood on his face beginning to burn lightly and resisted the urge to wipe at it. Nie Huaisang stripped off his ruined outer robe, followed by the layer beneath, and was very pleased that his bottom layer, while singed, did not have any of the blood on it. He tossed the clothes into the corner, away from them both.

“Sit here,” Jiang Wanyin said, kicking two rocks over from the corner of the cave.

Nie Huaisang did. His hands shook in his lap, his heart still racing and lodged somewhere in his throat. 

“Are you alright?” Jiang Wanyin asked as he sat on the rock opposite him, quite close. He pulled his qiankun pouch from his belt.

“I don’t like night-hunting.”

From the pouch Jiang Wanyin extracted a series of small strips of cloth, putting them on his lap. He shifted in his seat, once again moving closer to Nie Huaisang. Calloused fingertips touched beneath his chin, Jiang Wanyin examining him closely. “Close your eyes.”

Letting a slow breath out, Nie Huaisang did so. He felt the hand on his chin shift and, with gentle hands, Jiang Wanyin wiped away the blood splattered across his face. He was incredibly careful, each movement slow and diligent to not spread the blood further. Nie Huaisang tried to hide the way his heart skipped and his breathing picked up. He wanted Jiang Wanyin to kiss him. Every inch of his skin was bright where they touched and he ached for more. He wanted to cry as Jiang Wanyin finished his face and tipped his head upward. What felt like a new cloth was dragged against the vulnerable skin of his neck sending a hunger through him. His hands clenched in his lap.

“You can open your eyes,” Jiang Wanyin said, his fingertips leaving his face.

Nie Huaisang’s eyes fluttered open, surely dark and obvious in his wanting, but he tried to hide it behind a smile. It faltered as Jiang Wanyin took one of his hands in his, their palms resting together as he began wiping at the blood across his fingertips.

“I can do that,” Nie Huaisang murmured, watching the motion with avid attention.

Jiang Wanyin ignored him, continuing to work, while Nie Huaisang chewed on his lower lip.

When the last of the blood was cleaned away, Jiang Wanyin turned Nie Huaisang’s palm upward and placed two fingers on his pulse point.

“Your spiritual energy is very low.”

“Mn. The spell used most of it up.”

Jiang Wanyin made a tutting sound then put his hand down and stood up. “I’m going to set up the tent.”

“You brought a tent?”

“Of course I did. More than half of night-hunts never go the way you want them to. It’s better to be prepared.”

Nie Huaisang just hummed and watched him work.

“Put on some clean clothes and see if you can get a fire going,” Jiang Wanyin called back. “A small one. Then rest.”

With a huff, he did just that. Once dressed in a clean set of robes, Nie Huaisang, on shaky, exhausted legs, collected up the wood that had been blown within the rocky alcove and made them a fire closer to the tent. Scavenging up some stone, leaves, and smaller twigs, he fashioned a serviceable fire-pit and cast a much more commonly used spell, lighting them up. He slowly added the larger pieces of wood and, when it was happily burning, moved the rocks they had sat on earlier closer to the edge of the fire for convenience.

“That’s a much more reasonable amount of flame,” Jiang Wanyin said, sitting down with him a short time later. “Where did you even learn that spell?”

“Wei Wuxian.”

A scowl. “Of course.”

“I remembered him working on it in Cloud Recesses.” Nie Huaisang smiled to himself. “He only tried it the once.”

“Because he nearly set a forest on fire and drained his own spiritual energy?”

They had been messing around in the back hill together, another lazy afternoon of trying to catch fish and birds, when Wei Wuxian had begun rattling off this idea he had. Luckily, they had been near the base of the waterfall when he had cast it, and most of the fire either hit water or was dispersed upward by the vapour in the air, and not blasted back onto them. A few trees had been singed though, the two of them frantically putting it out before they both ended up punished for it. Afterward, they laughed so hard they nearly threw up. Wei Wuxian had leaned on him as they walked back, exhausted from the experiment but already muttering to himself about tweaking it. He wondered if he had ever gotten any further with it. 

“Exactly that,” Nie Huaisang confirmed.

There was that eye roll again. Wei Wuxian truly brought it out in Jiang Wanyin. “Don’t do it again.”

“I wasn’t planning to. I only did it to make sure we didn’t die,” he replied petulantly.

Jiang Wanyin let out a breath through his nose. “Thank you,” he bit out, and Nie Huaisang vaguely wondered if the concession had pained him. “How did you know fire would work?”

“Da-ge fought one once,” he said, adding another thick stick to the fire. “Or something like it at least. I remember him telling me about it afterwards. He lost two disciples to the thing before they figured it out.”

“Thank goodness for your good memory then.”

Nie Huaisang smiled at him from across the fire. “Thank you as well.”

“What for?”

“Saving me.”

Jiang Wanyin flushed and looked down. Avoiding his words completely, Jiang Wanyin prepared their dinner, mostly dried fruit and nuts, though did heat several disks of bread over the fire that Nie Huaisang practically inhaled. He also prepared a pot of tea which finally chased the chill from Nie Huaisang’s bones, his hands wrapped tight around the cup. By the time they had finished, his hair was dry and the night around them was pitch dark. His eyes were drooping with the meal sitting warm and heavy in his stomach. 

“Come,” Jiang Wanyin said, tossing the next few chunks of wood onto the fire. “Bed.”

Nie Huaisang was too tired to even get excited about sharing a tent with him for the night, more fixated on that Jiang Wanyin was sure to be warm. They crawled into the tent, Nie Huaisang very pleased by the array of blankets and furs that rested upon the bamboo mat beneath, and settled down beside each other. Nie Huaisang found himself a comfortable position, wrapping himself and Jiang Wanyin thickly in blankets, and unashamedly snuggled in close. He pressed his forehead to Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder where he lay on his back.

“Goodnight, Wanyin,” he murmured, breathing in the scent of him, rougher now with dirt and sweat from the road. He felt it as Jiang Wanyin moved, shifting his arm from beside Nie Huaisang, only for the arm to lift around him and curl around his back, tucking Nie Huaisang beneath his arm. He let out a contented sigh and threw an arm over Jiang Wanyin’s waist. If anything happened after that, Nie Huaisang was not aware of it. His consciousness slipped away from him as a fish through his fingers.

The sun was well past its zenith when Nie Huaisang emerged from the tent. He blinked up at the sky, confused by the brightness of the world around him. How long had he slept?

“It’s so late,” Nie Huaisang noted, still frowning at the sky, a hand held up to shield his eyes.

“Mn.”

He turned to see Jiang Wanyin seated at the coals of their fire, Sandu out and on his lap as he took care of his blade. While it wasn’t raining anymore, water still trickled in small rivers down the rocks and mud down the gradient of the hill.

“You could have woken me.”

Jiang Wanyin looked up. “You needed the rest. Come, eat.” He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a bag and proffered it towards Nie Huaisang.

He took it, sitting back down on the rock opposite Jiang Wanyin, picking through the bag of dried fruit and nuts, settling the hole in his stomach for now. “What now?” Nie Huaisang asked as Jiang Wanyin, clearly satisfied with his work, put Sandu back into its sheath.

“I have already beheaded the creature to pass on to Zhang Shoushan,” Jiang Wanyin said. “I went looking for its cave, and found it not too far from here.” Given the emptiness of this crevice, there were no survivors then. “We can leave once I have dismantled the tent.”

“Can I help?”

Jiang Wanyin smirked at him. “Eat, Huaisang.”

Ah, how he loved hearing his name on those lips.

It did not take long. Jiang Wanyin took the structure down with a practised efficiency, everything packed away and the alcove left just as they found it, bar the wood they had burned. They did not speak much on the return to town, Nie Huaisang too focused on not slipping and landing on his ass in the mud. He still managed to nearly do it, foot catching on a root half concealed in the muck. An arm caught him, keeping him upright, and he turned his head to find Jiang Wanyin suddenly very close.

“Careful,” Jiang Wanyin said. His hand slipped down Nie Huaisang’s back to support his waist and he sucked in a breath. Nie Huaisang was making his move tonight. He had to. He was absolutely going to combust or die or thoroughly embarrass himself soon if he didn’t. 

After that, they made it back into town without issue, separating to complete their tasks. Nie Huaisang went to the springs to ensure they still had rooms awaiting them and to request one of the pools for them for the evening, while  Jiang Wanyin continued into the town to provide proof and an explanation of the disappearances to Zhang Shoushan.

Zhou Hui was ecstatic to see him. The spring’s owner all but leapt from his chair to greet Nie Huaisang as he entered the premises, hurrying over to him and inquiring as to how they were.

“Fine, fine,” Nie Huaisang smiled, his fan reappearing from his sleeve and opening across his chest. “Sect Leader Jiang has gone to report our success.”

By the time Jiang Wanyin returned, Nie Huaisang was still sitting at the man’s desk, a fine pot of tea between them, as he regaled him with the thrilling tale of how Sect Leader Jiang had slain the creature. He made sure the tale was incredibly flattering and much more heroic than the two of them scrambling around in a muddy forest, trying their best not to die. Zhou Hui seemed enraptured by it at least, exclaiming in all the right places and turning to Jiang Wanyin with bright, awe-struck eyes as he entered. Nie Huaisang grinned at him from behind his fan when a single eyebrow was raised at him in question.

They were quickly shown to their rooms, set beside one another and both very beautifully kept. Nie Huaisang’s room was clad in soothing blues and greens, with skillfully arranged flowers and fine paintings decorating the space. He was secretly hoping they wouldn’t need to use both rooms tonight.

Zhou Hui made sure food was brought to them promptly, Jiang Wanyin joining Nie Huaisang in his rooms for them to eat. It was a filling meal, and exactly what Nie Huaisang had been hoping for after a meagre lunch and the long walk back; thick soups and roasted meats sating his hunger. They did not speak as they ate, both too hungry after an eventful few days. They agreed to meet in the spring that Zhou Hui had set aside for their enjoyment just after nightfall.

Nie Huaisang spent that time sitting in his room, his mind spinning over scenarios, hoping tonight went well. He thought Jiang Wanyin liked him back. He hoped he was correct, and that it had not just been wishful thinking.

Nie Huaisang grinned at Jiang Wanyin as they reconvened in the garden. He was now dressed down in just one outer-robe, a set of under-robes, and pants, with a tray of wine, nuts, and half a pomegranate in one hand. He had left his hair loose bar a few braids that trailed down the side of his head. Jiang Wanyin was in the same state of dress, waiting politely for him by the entryway, hair still pulled back but devoid of any ornamentation. 

“Come come,” Nie Huaisang said brightly. “I’ve been looking forward to this.”

He led them both through the red painted building and they emerged into a small courtyard. There were other baths scattered around the premises, but Nie Huaisang had wanted solitude and intimacy. This pool had both in abundance. It was not overly large, but spacious enough for the two of them. Rocks and bushes lined the edge of the water, with a bamboo grove set by the outer wall for additional privacy. The lights from the nearby buildings set off a golden glow on the rocks and surface of the water, while the waters further away were the same deep blue of the night sky, now scattered with stars. The cool air around them billowed with steam the closer they got, the scent of the baths filling his nose.

He flashed Jiang Wanyin an excited grin and then set the tray down by the edge of the water, off of the main path and half hidden in the bushes. Without shame, Nie Huaisang stripped himself of his robes, carefully folding them and setting them on a nearby bench, before hurrying into the water now clad only in thin trousers.

Feeling around for a solid hold, he carefully found his feet beneath the murky surface and slid in fully. He moaned as his body descended into the water, the heat of it like heaven after the last few days. “Wanyin,” he called breathlessly. “It’s so nice! You should hurry up or I am going to melt and become part of the springs.” Nie Huaisang turned around in the water once he had made it to the centre of the pool.

Jiang Wanyin was half out of his robes and staring at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Jiang Wanyin said hurriedly, shucking off the robe and setting it beside Nie Huaisang’s. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I like comforts, what’s ridiculous about that?” he argued, sinking into the water up to his neck. His long hair fanned out around him in the water, the ends already curling up. 

Jiang Wanyin shook his head and followed him into the water. Nie Huaisang made no secret of looking him over as he got in, the other too focused on not slipping that he could enjoy the view to his heart’s content. And oh what a view it was. Jiang Wanyin was very fit, his body showing every line of the work he put into his cultivation and physical training, muscles moving beneath skin as he approached.

Jiang Wanyin let out a pleased breath as he sank into the water.

“See? It’s nice. What is not to be enjoyed about it?” Nie Huaisang teased and he was ignored.

“I see our host enjoyed whatever story you spun for him,” Jiang Wanyin said when he was settled, pouring them both a cup of wine from the jar and passing one over to Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang sipped from his, contentment settling into his bones. He was warm, he had wine, and Jiang Wanyin was shirtless and relaxed in the water with him. Truly, nearly being murdered by a horrid monster had been worth it. “He was suitably impressed at Sandu Shengshou’s skills,” Nie Huaisang said lightly. “To take out a beast of such a size and bottomless hunger for human flesh, he must be just as skilled as they say. How did Master Zhang take it?”

“My tale was surely much less embellished than yours appeared to be—”

“More boring, you mean,” Nie Huaisang countered.

“—but he was beyond grateful.” Jiang Wanyin’s mouth twitched into a smile. “His assistant did faint at the sight of the monster’s head.”

Nie Huaisang snorted into his wine. He could very easily imagine that.

They drank and shared the plate of food in companionable quiet, Nie Huaisang tossing pomegranate seeds at Jiang Wanyin from across the pool. He managed to catch just over half in his mouth, grinning proudly back at Nie Huaisang each time, and picking up the missed ones from the water and tossing them into the bushes. Nie Huaisang’s fingers were stained pink from the juices by the end, slipping the final few seeds between his teeth and sucking the tart liquid from his fingers.

He watched the sky for a short time after that, studying the constellations above them as they turned, the night surprisingly clear after such terrible weather the day before. He caught Jiang Wanyin doing the same, and observed him for a time. The light from the nearby buildings danced across his damp skin, the faint glow from the sky above sparkling in his dark eyes.

“When was he last time you were off on your own like this?” Nie Huaisang asked, breaking the quiet and taking another sip of his wine.

Jiang Wanyin considered it for a moment, taking a drink of his own before speaking. “A few years at least.” He watched the liquid in his cup move as he swirled it carefully, none of it spilling into the steaming water. “Everything just kept being so busy. And you?”

Nie Huaisang laughed, the wine and the heat already making him feel looser. “Ah, probably running around my family’s tomb after Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji,” he said.

Jiang Wanyin frowned at him. “You were really following them that closely?”

He nodded, humming. “I never had the skill of foresight and true manipulation that Jin Guangyao had,” Nie Huaisang said slowly. “I knew Wei Wuxian wouldn’t be able to let the mystery go and I knew Lan Wangji would follow him. Sometimes it was easier to be there to keep things on track.” He stared at his own reflection in the water, hazy with the low light and steam that cascaded from it. “I wanted justice for da-ge, and I had no compunctions about getting my hands dirty to get it.” He laughed. “To a degree at least. I had to keep free of some of it. You should understand, of anyone.”

Jiang Wanyin crossed his arms across his chest. “I did. For my parents and A-jie.”

“Did you?”

Nie Huaisang had never discovered the truth of the matter. Had heard rumour after rumour of how Jiang Wanyin had revenged his sister through the death of the Yiling Patriarch, killing Wei Wuxian himself. He knew Lan Wangji blamed Jiang Wanyin in some way, his frosty stare and the unbreakable silence that descended whenever the two had interacted over the years while Wei Wuxian was dead laid bare the animosity between them. But Lan Wangji never went beyond pettiness, which had seemed significant to Nie Huaisang. 

What he had heard was how Jiang Yanli had actually died. Throwing herself in front of a blade to protect Wei Wuxian. And for all the emotion and misunderstanding and bad blood between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Wanyin that had driven them apart after the war, Nie Huaisang had known them for too long and seen how much they had adored each other when they were younger to believe Jiang Wanyin could actually kill him. Beat each other to hell and back, sure. Tear each other to shreds with cutting words and accusations, always, that was the nature of siblings. But kill? 

Jiang Wanyin very carefully set his cup far from the edge of the pool, attention completely focused on the motion. 

“I wanted to,” Jiang Wanyin admitted, head tilting back to look at the stars. 

“But you couldn’t.”

A hum, then, the words barely a whisper, “He threw himself off.”

Ah. That sounded more like the truth. He wondered if Jiang Wanyin had ever shared that truth before.

“You know what I think?”

Jiang Wanyin huffed out a laugh and looked back down to meet him. “I think you will tell me anyway.”

“True,” Nie Huaisang conceded, grinning cheekily at him. “I think you both need to talk to each other. You and Wei Wuxian, instead of just—staring at each other from across rooms and assuming things.”

Jiang Wanyin scowled at him.

“I’m serious!” Nie Huaisang said, waving his arm dramatically. “Just, go get drunk together, yell at each other for however long it takes and—”

“You don’t understand—”

“Not entirely, of course I don’t,” Nie Huaisang allowed, “but do you know what I would give to have da-ge back? For all that he made me furious, and frustrated, and we never saw eye to eye on anything—he was still my brother and my closest friend.” He waved his hand vaguely. “Or don’t; mope at each other forever and worry about how the other is doing until one of you falls off another cliff and it becomes a moot point, see if I care.”

Nie Huaisang had no idea what to do with the expression on Jiang Wanyin’s face. His body language suggested fight, shoulders up, hands clenched, neck tight, but he didn’t move.

“I let myself get caught after Lotus Pier burned,” Jiang Wanyin said suddenly. “I knew the Wen would take me.”

Oh Gods above. 

“Then tell him that,” Nie Huaisang cried. “Don’t tell me, tell him, whether he wants to hear it or not. Stop hiding shit from each other thinking you’re doing each other some great favour. Tell him you love him and you miss him and you think his husband’s a bit of an ass but—”

“You’ve made your point, Huaisang,” Jiang Wanyin said, cutting him off, though the last comment seemed to bring a smile to the edge of his lips. “I’ll…think about it.”

“I’d offer to help but I don’t think my presence would be anything of the sort.”

Silence.

Nie Huaisang tossed the rest of the wine in his cup down his throat, then shook the empty cup in Jiang Wanyin’s direction. “Any more?”

“I don’t think you need anymore,” he retorted, though did politely pick up the jar and give it a light shake. “Hm, there’s a little left.”

“Split it with me.” Nie Huaisang pushed himself off the edge and swam toward Jiang Wanyin, carefully keeping the cup in his hand above the water. Jiang Wanyin offered him his hand as Nie Huaisang got closer. He took it gratefully, curling their fingers together and letting Jiang Wanyin pull him the last of the distance, feeling his hair trail behind him in the water.

As promised, Jiang Wanyin split the last of the wine between their two cups, Nie Huaisang comedically bowing in a toast to the other. Jiang Wanyin shook his head and tossed his cup back, the knot in his neck bobbing as he drank, Nie Huaisang’s thoughts falling away at the sight.

They stayed at the edge of the pool together, side by side but turned partly to face each other. Nie Huaisang’s buzzed mind wandered a little, his attention fixating ever more on his half-naked partner. This close he could see pale scars that criss-crossed up the skin on his chest. He frowned at them; someone with a core as strong as Jiang Wanyin shouldn’t have scars this severe.

“This looks like lightning,” Nie Huaisang commented, tracing one of the branching scars up Jiang Wanyin’s chest and feeling the muscles jump beneath his fingertips. “Like Zidian.” He held the unspoken question in his eyes.

“The Wen,” Jiang Wanyin growled. “In between—” Words seemed to fail him.

“After Wen Zhuliu,” Nie Huaisang filled in.

“Yes.”

The unspoken knowledge hovered between them both. After Wen Zhuliu; before Wei Wuxian. He decided to leave the topic of Wei Wuxian where they had already ended it, and did not press.

Steam swirled and water rippled in concurrent patterns as he shifted himself closer to Jiang Wanyin in the water. The opaque quality of the water obscured all but a glimpse of the shape of Jiang Wanyin’s body. It was a tantalising hint nonetheless.

“Well,” Nie Huaisang said slowly, leaning in and draping his arms over Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders, watching the play of emotion on his face. “I think they make you look rather handsome.”

“What are you doing?” Jiang Wanyin remained pointedly still, allowing Nie Huaisang to come so close, but his gaze was hard and flat, staring down his nose at Nie Huaisang. This close he could map the strong line of his cheekbones and the handsome angle of his nose. But it was his eyes that captured Nie Huaisang the most, artfully curved and always so expressive. It was embarrassing how much he enjoyed that derisive stare.

“What does it look like? Has Wanyin not been flirted with before?”

“Of course I have.” The tone was sharp but the colour that was blooming across his cheekbones rather softened the effect.

Nie Huaisang wondered if that was a lie. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps it had been a long time ago. It was common enough knowledge that the man had been barred from any of the matchmakers’ doors for years.

“Hmm.” Nie Huaisang tipped his head up. “How about in the last few years, Sect Leader Jiang?”

Silence. Then, “You seemed to be doing your best these past few weeks.”

Nie Huaisang grinned at him, letting the water pull him ever closer to Jiang Wanyin, feeling the brush of his leg against some warm part of him beneath the water. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jiang Wanyin’s hand resting on the stones beside them curl up into a fist.

“Why.”

“Why what?”

The frustrated expression was back, brows curving inward, but he wasn’t moving away. “Why are you doing this?”

Nie Huaisang kept his eyes open just up until the moment their mouths touched. They fluttered shut at the first brush of skin, Jiang Wanyin’s lips warm and damp from the thick air around them, tasting like the wine they had been sharing. Nie Huaisang tipped his head as he caressed their mouths together again, trying to coax Jiang Wanyin along with him. He pulled back, just a little.

“Because I want to,” Nie Huaisang said, the words washing over Jiang Wanyin’s lips only a mere hair’s breadth away. “Don’t you?”

Jiang Wanyin surged forward, kissing the surprised sound Nie Huaisang made directly out of his mouth. A hand slid up his back and curved to fit against the bend of his neck, warmth and sparks like fire-light dancing down his spine. Nie Huaisang’s body burned with need, an aching seed of desire that had been buried in his chest since he was sixteen bursting into full bloom. A moan ripped itself from his throat as a hand squeezed at his side, perilously close to where he burned hottest.

Nie Huaisang slid closer, pressing his advantage and leaving a line of open mouthed kisses along Jiang Wanyin’s jaw. He’d had dreams about this; more than one—easily more than a hundred—all of it paled in comparison to the reality of the man against him. Jiang Wanyin tasted like warm skin and thermal water and something just a little spicy. He felt alive with motion beneath his fingertips, cresting and ebbing like the tide against Nie Huaisang’s affections. Jiang Wanyin turned his head, catching Nie Huaisang’s mouth in his again, pressing his tongue inside his mouth and coaxing Nie Huaisang closer, and more open, and closer. He could feel the hot line of Jiang Wanyin’s cock against his thigh and it was too much.

“See, I told you you needed a bit of fun,” Nie Huaisang murmured with a grin as he quickly caught his breath. His forehead was pressed to Jiang Wanyin’s cheek, mind dizzy in the haze of wanting. “Please, I—!”

Suddenly, firm hands gripped his waist—yes, please—and Nie Huaisang was shoved away. 

He stared at Jiang Wanyin, open mouthed and breathless, and surely looking a little disarrayed. 

Jiang Wanyin just stared back at him.

“Wanyin?”

“I don’t want this,” Jiang Wanyin said firmly, the words practically tumbling out of him. He pulled himself free of Nie Huaisang’s grasp and climbed out of the pool in one swift movement. Snatching up his robes still laid nearby, he pulled one on with harsh movements and stalked from the garden.

Nie Huaisang watched him go with a sinking heart and tingling lips. He blinked after where Jiang Wanyin had gone, the silence of the night suddenly pressing down on him with only his still-laboured breathing filling the air. He had miscalculated somewhere. Had he come on too strong? Perhaps he should have not tried to climb into the man’s lap quite so quickly—but at the same time, Jiang Wanyin had been into it, at least for a while, right? Maybe he had caught wind of Nie Huaisang’s feelings? He hadn’t been exactly subtle in the past few weeks, as Jiang Wanyin had noted himself.

Nie Huaisang swallowed thickly, suddenly feeling very foolish. He hated himself for the emotion, blaming it squarely on being too far into his cups. Who was he to think from one heated look and a few weeks of friendship that Jiang Wanyin wanted so much from him?

Disappointment and embarrassment churning in his gut, he sank below the surface and watched the blur of his hair stream out around him. His braids unravelled like all his well laid plans and let his tears be lost to the water.

The journey back to Lotus Pier the next morning was uncomfortably silent. Jiang Wanyin had informed him they would be flying back immediately due to an engagement he had to meet, the trip passing in a few short hours. Jiang Wanyin did not once look at him nor speak to him unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then, the wind whipping past them as they travelled would have made anything Nie Huaisang might have liked to say too difficult.

Jiang Wanyin had made his point.

They landed just outside the main gate into the Jiang Sect, several purple-clad disciples waving to their Sect Leader as he arrived, though they did not approach the two of them. Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have either were he a Jiang disciple. The expression on their leader’s face was still thunderous.

He followed behind Jiang Wanyin for a short time before Nie Huaisang came to a stop at the front gates, far enough away so as not to be heard by any lingering ears.

Jiang Wanyin halted as well, half turning to look at Nie Huaisang from the corner of his eye.

“I apologise, Jiang Wanyin,” Nie Huaisang said, hands clasped in front of him in a respectful bow, eyes lowered. “I will not burden you with such feelings again. I hope my actions will not reflect upon the good relationship between our sects. Thank you for your hospitality these past weeks. I will not trouble you with my presence any longer. Please send my disciples out at your convenience.”

Jiang Wanyin’s jaw was tense when he pulled out of the bow, expression frozen as he stared at him.

He grunted, and turned away, walking with rigid shoulders into the walls of Lotus Pier.

Nie Huaisang hid his hands in his sleeves and waited, the ache in his chest from yesterday widening into a deep void. 

The journey back to the Unclean Realm was equally uncomfortable. The disciples that accompanied him could clearly tell something had happened, and remained quiet while Nie Huaisang stared directly ahead as he flew, trying to keep his thoughts elsewhere. Perhaps it was time to read over the sect accounts. He hadn’t done that recently. It was always good to check nothing was being tampered with and did it ever eat up time.

And just like that a month flew by. 

Nie Huaisang kept himself constantly distracted. He took one week doing a thorough audit of their books and then slid sideways into an inventory check, which took another week to do properly. His disciples hovered about, working as hard as ever and being very proactive in doing their duties, leaving Nie Huaisang to stew in his misery. One of his distant cousins, Nie Jianyu, had tried to broach the subject with him while the two of them were going through a dusty box in the bowels of the Unclean Realm. Nie Huaisang had, tactically, pretended not to hear the question and then launched into a close analysis of a poem he had read a few months ago until Nie Jianyu looked almost ill. He did not try again.

He even resorted to training with his sabre. Alone, often late at night, striking at the practice dummies and letting out all the frustration still clogging his throat. It tired him out if nothing else, left his body aching enough that it almost overtook the pain in his chest. He even went on a night-hunt to try and distract himself. He’d hated every second of it, and he had ended up with a jagged cut to his leg from the sharp talons of a ghost. He’d been confined to bed for two days for that, and it had been torture. Too still and too stuck in his head, turning over everything he’d said and done, wondering where he had gone wrong.

On the worst nights, he vaguely considered that even this pain—this rejection that still stung each time he replayed the memory of Jiang Wanyin pushing him away—was still better than the emptiness that had consumed the place where his heart had once been. Anger, hurt, despair, all of it was better than nothing.

At least he’d had one kiss. A few, realistically. The remembrance of a heated mouth and wandering hands that had pulled him closer and closer—until they hadn’t. He’d brought himself off to the memory more than once, before cold, twisting regret had pooled in his stomach and he would scream into his pillow in frustration.

On this particular evening, Nie Huaisang was attempting to paint. Fruitlessly seeking the familiar calm that would settle across his mind through the act of creation. He rolled his brush between his fingers, watching the ink pooling in the bristles and shifting it so it didn’t drip onto the page. The elbow of his other arm rested on his desk, head supported in his hand, as he stared into the middle distance. It had been going well for a while, lost in the lines of the scenery—until he had recognised the shape of Lotus Pier in it and fallen to a dead stop. 

He huffed, frustrated, letting out a groan and setting the brush back to its place. Perhaps he should stop. It was rather late after all. He’d eaten dinner a couple of hours ago, so perhaps a fresh pot of tea was in order. That might refresh his mind a little.

Just as he made to stand up, a knock came from the door.

He settled back in his seat and called for them to enter.

Nie Jianyu walked quickly in. He paused a few feet from the desk and bowed.

“What is it?” Nie Huaisang asked.

The disciple pulled himself upright, one hand on his sabre, one set behind his back with excellent form. “Sect Leader Jiang is requesting to meet with you. He was greeted at the gates,” Nie Jianyu said, and then paused as Jiang Wanyin walked in behind him. “And it appears he cannot wait.”

A nervous, writhing sensation was beginning in his stomach. “Sect Leader Jiang,” Nie Huaisang greeted, standing from his desk and trying to appear unaffected by this sudden appearance. He tucked his hands into his sleeves to hide the way they trembled. “What can I do for you?”

Jiang Wanyin nodded his head in the direction of Nie Jianyu, still standing in the doorway, watching. Nie Huaisang resisted sighing.

“Leave us,” Nie Huaisang said with a dismissing wave of his hand.

Nie Jianyu did not move, instead resting a hand on the hilt of his sabre and staring hard at the Jiang Sect Leader.

“Go,” he said more firmly, channelling the commanding tone he had always admired in da-ge. “Jiang Wanyin is not a danger to me.”

The disciple nodded sharply and exited, the door clicking shut. He heard a few steps moving away from the door, but Nie Huaisang didn’t think Nie Jianyu would be going far.

“Why are you here?” Nie Huaisang asked, his shoulders slumping.

Jiang Wanyin drew himself up to his full height, head held high as though steeling himself for something. Nie Huaisang’s chest contracted in anticipation of whatever this was going to be.

“I wish to speak to you about what happened.”

Nie Huaisang swallowed, throat tight. He had never done well with conflict with those he liked. “You made it very clear that you did not want what I was offering.”

“I did not want fun, Huaisang—”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because you said that you would not burden me with such feelings again,” he said, Zidian sparking at his hand. “Because I had to be sure what you meant—because I did what you suggested and invited Wei Wuxian to Lotus Pier and he told me that you did not meddle in things not your business.”

Oh. Jiang Wanyin had followed his advice? He hoped that had gone well. How odd that they had spoken of him. 

He opened his mouth to reply but—

“I will not be played with,” Jiang Wanyin spat, voice shaking as he said it. “I will not be used and discarded for some scheme or entertainment for you. I did not want to be some frivolous whim.”

“I did not intend to play with you,” Nie Huaisang tried to explain—needed to explain—hands carefully outstretched as he approached Jiang Wanyin. Nie Huaisang took the hand that bore Zidian, his touch light, just holding it between them, his thumb stroking the back of his hand. Jiang Wanyin let him keep the hold, though he did not return the touch in any way. Nie Huaisang continued, “Everything, I do with purpose—”

“And what was your purpose?”

Nie Huaisang swallowed, mouth working to find the right words. He chewed on his lower lip for a moment, then; “I like you,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I—I’ve liked you for a long time.” He looked back up into Jiang Wanyin’s face, still closed off but listening, eyes glowing with a pointed intensity. “A very long time. And I—” Words failed him. When he found them again, his voice and hands were shaking. “What I said when I arrived was true. I have been lonely. For so long, all I could think about was finding justice for da-ge. Righting what had been done to him. And then, it was done. I was free of it and I—I was alone. Da-ge was still gone. Wei Wuxian was off with his new husband and you, my only other friend from before everything, was still there and I was finally allowed to look at you again. To feel something else beyond anger and betrayal. I still liked you. I still wanted you and”—a blush burned across his cheeks—“I thought you might want me too.”

He felt out of breath after so many words. Words he hadn’t known had been lodged in his chest until he said them. 

Jiang Wanyin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, a wetness pooling in his eyes. “You wanted me…for me?”

Nie Huaisang nodded, his hand tightening on Jiang Wanyin’s. “I will admit,” he said quietly. “That I saw you were just as lonely as I was, and I thought…I thought it might just give me a better chance. But yes, I just wanted you—”

Jiang Wanyin’s hand, which had been placidly held in his, suddenly took hold of him and yanked him forward. The kiss was hard and fast, a rough, quick press of lips that tasted of desperation, and then Jiang Wanyin’s face was buried in his shoulder. His arms were tight around Nie Huaisang’s waist, hands flat against his back and holding him close. Nie Huaisang softened at the embrace, his own arms coming around Jiang Wanyin’s body and staring blindly, awestruck at the swift chain of events. The cold ache that had been growing within his chest was receding, hope filling up all the cracks and anxious edges. Jiang Wanyin was solid against him, but he could feel the faint tremor to him, the harsh breath on his neck. Nie Huaisang blinked hard, swallowing down the wetness that threatened his own eyes. 

When he pulled back, Jiang Wanyin’s face was flushed and mottled red around the eyes. “You’re a mess,” Nie Huaisang said gently, thumbing at the tears that remained at the edge of his lashes. He grinned. “You know you’re not that cute when you cry?”

And yet, Jiang Wanyin kissed him again. It was softer than the last, tentative where it had been consuming. And still the passion of it was unmistakable, the reined in desire tangible as shaking hands grasped the side of his face and large thumbs stroked against the soft skin of his cheek, catching in the strands of hair he had continued to let fall loose.

“Huaisang,” Jiang Wanyin whispered, mouth moving against his own. Nie Huaisang swallowed down his own name and threw his arms over Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders. His hands tangled up in his hair, tugging him closer and flattening his body up against the front of Jiang Wanyin’s. It was ardent, the way Jiang Wanyin kissed him, the way his hands gripped him, the way he was so much taller than Nie Huaisang, so much bigger and broader than he would ever be. 

There were a few stumbling steps as Jiang Wanyin pulled him closer. He felt the heat of Jiang Wanyin’s arousal against his own and moaned, rocking forward teasingly. Jiang Wanyin groaned, mouth pulling away to stare at Nie Huaisang with pitch black eyes.

“You taste like ink,” Jiang Wanyin murmured and Nie Huaisang broke out into giggles to see the ink that had stained his own tongue faintly darkening Jiang Wanyin’s as well.

“I was painting,” Nie Huaisang returned, still grinning, his heart fluttering to see the same curve of lips from Jiang Wanyin. “It’s your own fault for kissing me.”

A low growl echoed between them and then Jiang Wanyin was hauling him up into his arms and spinning them around.  Nie Huaisang squeaked as the world tilted, gripping onto Jiang Wanyin shoulders even tighter. The world righted as Jiang Wanyin sat him atop the desk Nie Huaisang had been working at. Jiang Wanyin followed him down, kneeling between Nie Huaisang’s legs on the floor, leaning in close enough that their noses brushed. Nie Huaisang sucked in a gasp as hands slid down his sides, body tensing in anticipation. He hoped this was going where he thought it was but—

“Wanyin?”

A hum, then a kiss was placed on his cheek. 

“I told you my feelings,” Nie Huaisang said, suddenly needing to hear the answer, “what about yours?”

Jiang Wanyin sat back on his heels, his knees still on the floor. Nie Huaisang followed, sitting up and hearing the paper shift as he did. Ah, he had likely ruined these clothes, the ink on the painting had not dried yet. 

“I—” It was adorable how hard his face twisted as Jiang Wanyin tried to find the right words. How ridiculous it was for two grown men in their thirties, leaders of their sects, to be curled up in a pile together, unable to speak of their feelings to one another. Instead, Jiang Wanyin leaned forward, hiding his face in Nie Huaisang’s stomach, the words faintly muffled as he said, “I like you as well. A lot.”

Unseen, Nie Huaisang smiled above him, bright joy cascading through his chest. He petted the top of Jiang Wanyin’s head, threading his fingers through the long black stands and subtly began pulling Jiang Wanyin’s hair free from its severe style. His companion let him, crushing his face harder into Nie Huaisang’s belly while hands began creeping up his legs. Nie Huaisang’s breath quickened as he worked, Jiang Wanyin’s hands roaming his thigh. He tossed Jiang Wanyin’s guan to the table and let his hair fall completely free.

Jiang Wanyin leaned back, staring up at him.

“Oh wow,” Nie Huaisang murmured as he took in the sight, his mind faced with Jiang Wanyin in all his beauty, hair unbound and falling softly over his shoulders. He had always wondered how it might look. He was not disappointed.

“What?” The question was sharper than expected.

Nie Huaisang smiled at him, twining a finger in the loose strands and lightly tugging on it, drawing Jiang Wanyin back to him. “I love you like this,” he said, voice rough. “You look so sweet.”

The scowl was back, but a flush was working its way up his neck. 

“So where are we going from here, then?” Nie Huaisang asked, a cheeky grin on his lips. “Do you want there to be courting or would you just like to have me on this desk?” He leant in closer, a finger beneath Jiang Wanyin’s chin, tipping his mouth up to nearly meet his, whispering, “I would not be against either suggestion.”

Jiang Wanyin’s mouth crashed into his, Nie Huaisang’s own falling open in a gasp as the hand that had been feeling up his legs slid suddenly higher and grasped his cock through his trousers.

“I want,” Jiang Wanyin murmured against his lips. “Let me?”

Nie Huaisang could not nod fast enough, kissing Jiang Wanyin back while fumbling at his own belt. Jiang Wanyin’s free hand moved to assist, getting Nie Huaisang’s belt and sash off with quick hands and discarding them to the floor. Nie Huaisang grumbled as Jiang Wanyin removed his touch from beneath his robes.

The world tipped as Jiang Wanyin pushed him back, his spine against the hard wood of his desk with Jiang Wanyin looming above. Things slowed for a breath, Jiang Wanyin leaning in with deliberate slowness. His eyes were storm dark, focused with an intensity Nie Huaisang rarely saw off the battlefield. He sucked in a shaking breath. Waiting as anticipation sung in his veins. 

Jiang Wanyin slowly rucked up Nie Huaisang’s skirts, moving them out of the way until his pants-clothed legs were revealed. Nie Huaisang was so aware of the way his cock pressed insistently at the fabric. His body was strung tight as a bow, craving whatever Jiang Wanyin wished to do with him. His head fell back against the wood of the desk as Jiang Wanyin undid the ties at his pants and slowly tugged them down, the fabric dragging tantalisingly down his heated skin.

“You are lovely,” Jiang Wanyin murmured with an assessing stare of Nie Huaisang’s naked half. 

Nie Huaisang’s face warmed at the tone, opening his mouth to say something sharp back when a hand wrapped tight around his cock. He cried out and his hand flailed to the side, desperate for something to hold onto. Something heavy on the desk toppled.

Jiang Wanyin smirked at him, only giving what had fallen a cursory glance and clearly deeming it less important than this. He moved then, settling himself next to Nie Huaisang, his front pressed to Nie Huaisang’s side, raising himself up on one elbow and keeping a firm grip on his cock. His own erection was pressed hard against Nie Huaisang’s hip, a leg half thrown over his own.

Nie Huaisang sent a reaching hand towards Jiang Wanyin with a quiet, “Would you like—?” but Jiang Wanyin just shook his head, leaning in closer and kissing his mouth. 

“Just let me,” he said, voice low. “Later.”

Jiang Wanyin leant back in and kissed the next moan directly from Nie Huaisang’s mouth as his hand began a slow stroke up and down his cock. Nie Huaisang’s heart raced, pulse thudding heavily in his ears as Jiang Wanyin worked him with a deft hand, a unswayable desire seating itself in his body. His breath was heavy, catching in his throat, Jiang Wanyin wringing small sounds of pleasure from him.

“You look so beautiful like this,” Jiang Wanyin whispered, his face pressed to Nie Huaisang’s cheek, the words washing over his ears in a warm breath.

Words failed him completely, only able to turn his head and kiss Jiang Wanyin with every impassioned emotion he had ever felt for the man. His hand grasped Jiang Wanyin’s cheek, holding him close as the other drove him closer to the edge. He was just so warm, warm and solid and smelling like the fresh wind and Lotus Pier. 

He panted unevenly, soon unable to focus on kissing when he was strung so tightly. Jiang Wanyin just watched him with unblinking eyes and parted, wondering lips. Nie Huaisang stared back, lost in the dark depths of his eyes, even as his eyes fell shut. He wanted to try and make this last, but Jiang Wanyin’s touch was just as he was, relentless, firmer and a little rougher than Nie Huaisang usually preferred on himself. It was wonderful. It was driving him mad. He wanted—

“Wanyin,” he whispered, eyes fluttering open and grabbing onto whatever part of Jiang Wanyin he could reach, feeling fabric bunch in his fist. “Please.”

Jiang Wanyin’s low, gratified rumble sent heat sparking through him. His hips rocked against Nie Huaisang, chasing his own pleasure against his body and—Nie Huaisang came with a shudder. A graceless, gasping sound escaped his mouth as he clung tight to Jiang Wanyin, the pleasure drowning out the world around him.

He was being kissed. 

It was the first coherent thought that crossed his mind, a contented haze having settled over him. He felt boneless and amazing and just a little stunned by the turn of events. He kissed Jiang Wanyin back when his mind caught up to himself, sliding his tongue past his lips and tipping his head, seeking more.

He felt the rock of hips against his again. Ah.

“We should—we should find a better location for this,” Nie Huaisang said, reluctantly pushing Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders up and away from him. Jiang Wanyin went, unusually obedient and quiet but still fixated on him. Nie Huaisang stood up on shaky legs, beginning to pull the fabric of his clothes back in order and sighing internally. The thing he had knocked over in his pleasure had been the ink-stone which had smeared ink further across himself and the desk.

“That’s two sets of my clothes you’ve ruined now,” Nie Huaisang grumbled as he redressed himself.

Jiang Wanyin swooped back in, hands running around the back of Nie Huaisang’s waist and pulling him close. Warm breath washed over his neck as lips brushed against his ear. “If you let me,” he whispered, voice ragged and sending heat pooling downwards, “I’ll ruin more for you.”

“Ah,” Nie Huaisang flustered. “Yes. I think—yes.”

He kissed Jiang Wanyin’s cheek, a passing press of lips to the closest part of him. “Come back to my rooms?”

Jiang Wanyin moaned, teeth sinking into Nie Huaisang’s earlobe, followed by a breathless, “Yes.”

He assisted Nie Huaisang in the remainder of his redressing, though only loosely tying things back into place enough to be presentable. It would not take much for it all to come unravelled again, and Nie Huaisang could not deny the way his pulse thudded in his throat in excitement for what was to come. 

Exiting the room, they came to an immediate stop as they were faced with Nie Jianyu.

“Ah—” Nie Huaisang began, his mind not at all working off the back of that stellar orgasm. 

He could only imagine the image they painted. Jiang Wanyin still perfectly dressed, but his hair unbound; Nie Huaisang with his hair exactly as it had been, if roughed up, but his clothes not tied back perfectly and dripping with ink. Both of them had red, swollen mouths and Nie Huaisang hoped that the erection he had felt on Jiang Wanyin a few moments ago was at least well hidden beneath all his robes.

Nie Jianyu stared at them both for just a beat too long, his eyes betraying his surprise. Then he turned on his heel and walked away, evidently having decided to not involve himself. 

Nie Huaisang chuckled, grabbed Jiang Wanyin’s hand, and led him through the dark back corridors of the Unclean Realm to his room.

Nie Huaisang glanced around as he pulled open the doors to his chambers, shoving Jiang Wanyin inside and following quickly. The moment the doors were closed, arms encircled his waist again, pulling Nie Huaisang’s back flush to Jiang Wanyin’s chest, and that was certainly not Sandu he could feel against his lower back. His hands moved quickly to lock the door. It would not do to be interrupted.

“Huaisang,” Jiang Wanyin murmured, nosing at the nape of his neck while hands frantically began working at the half-done ties at Nie Huaisang’s front. His hips worked in a slow rhythm, and Nie Huaisang could not resist pressing back into that frantic need, basking in the low moan it earned him. He felt breathless with how much Jiang Wanyin desired him, reduced to rutting against his back and kissing at his neck like a man starved.

Jiang Wanyin was not going to last five seconds like this, and Nie Huaisang wanted it to when he finally got the man inside him. 

He wriggled in Jiang Wanyin’s hold, drawing his hands from his clothes and turning to face him.

“Bed?” he suggested and received a kiss to the corner of his mouth in reply. He would take that as a yes.

Grinning, he hooked his hand around Jiang Wanyin’s elbow and led him through the circular entryway to his bedroom.

“Sit,” he said, shoving Jiang Wanyin onto the pale green sheets of his bed. He landed softly, falling back on his ass and an elbow, staring up at Nie Huaisang expectantly. 

He fell to his knees with well practised grace, heart racing, and settled himself between Jiang Wanyin’s thighs. Eagerly, he undid Jiang Wanyin’s belt and sash, tossing it to the floor, and shoved Jiang Wanyin’s skirts out of his way. His pants were tented with the evidence of his desires, and Nie Huaisang could not wait. He began undoing the ties to Jiang Wanyin’s pants.

A hand touched his head.

“What are you doing?”

Nie Huaisang smirked up at him. “What does it look like? I want you in my mouth.” A shaky gasp met his ears, Jiang Wanyin’s hand tightening in his hair. “I want you to fuck me later and I want it to last, so let me take the edge off, my love.”

Jiang Wanyin leant down and kissed him in answer, warm fingertips caressing his neck.

“Hopefully the ink won’t come off on you too much,” he said slyly as he pulled back, sticking his tongue out for show. “Otherwise everyone is going to know where Sect Leader Jiang’s cock has been.”

“Huaisang!”

Nie Huaisang just laughed, kissing Jiang Wanyin’s inner thigh, grinning so hard it hurt. 

He was unimpeded as he removed Jiang Wanyin’s boots and pants from his person, flinging them off in the direction of his other things. His cock bobbed temptingly before Nie Huaisang, flushed and curving wantonly in his direction. He bit his lips in anticipation before refocusing for a moment, drawing in a slow breath.

“Your robes?” Nie Huaisang asked, fingers travelling up to finger the edge of the fine purple fabric.

Jiang Wanyin blinked at him as if in a daze. “Huh?”

“On or off?”

“I—I will need to return to Lotus Pier tomorrow,” Jiang Wanyin said, already unfastening the ties. “I need them clean.”

Nie Huaisang nodded and enjoyed the impromptu show from the floor; Jiang Wanyin revealed all of his sun-kissed skin to him as he tossed his clothes away. The man was utterly magnificent, all toned muscle and flushed, desirous skin, just for Nie Huaisang’s eyes. He ran his hands along Jiang Wanyin’s calves, hands wandering up and up his thighs, squeezing the taut muscle there.

“Relax,” Nie Huaisang said gently, shuffling in closer. 

His heart jumped as his eyes returned to the cock before him, still heavy and waiting as a bead of liquid pooled at the end. He leant forward and licked at the head, his hand coming up to the base to steady it. Jiang Wanyin let out a sharp breath and Nie Huaisang flicked his eyes upwards, checking in on him, only to find Jiang Wanyin staring at him with dark eyes and a blush across his cheeks. Wonderful. He hoped all his own personal experimentation with his little collection of toys he had gathered over the years would serve him well in this. He wanted this to be good for Jiang Wanyin. 

He parted his lips, slipping Jiang Wanyin’s cock into his mouth with more confidence than he felt, the scent of him this close heady to his senses. Nie Huaisang bobbed his head slowly, eyes half lidded as he found his rhythm and let the weight of it on his tongue settle in his mind. He worked his hand in tandem with his lips, stroking every part that he could reach and feeling Jiang Wanyin twitch. He relished each little sound that fell from Jiang Wanyin’s lips; small gasps and low moans, the odd cut off curse and the heavy silence of a held breath.

Jiang Wanyin’s right hand soon returned to Nie Huaisang’s face, reverent at his cheek. His palm cupped the soft flesh as his thumb made slow strokes back and forth; a sharp contrast to the way his breathing fell ragged and strained above him. The cold metal of Zidian’s ring pressed against his skin, occasionally feeling a thrill at the occasional buzz it made by his ear. Nie Huaisang moaned around his cock. He was doing that to Jiang Wanyin. The thought sat warm and low in his belly, slowly rekindling his own desire.

He was right though, within a handful of minutes, Jiang Wanyin was panting hard, trying to keep his hips still but Nie Huaisang could feel the faint movement of him in his mouth. He shook to hear his name as it dripped from Jiang Wanyin, laden with need and quivering on the edge of something. He moved quicker, hand following Jiang Wanyin’s lead earlier and stroking him roughly while his tongue laved attention to the head, hollowing his cheeks and—

Nie Huaisang startled as Jiang Wanyin spilled in his mouth, a gasping, cut off moan filling the air between them. He automatically jerked back, only halted by the strong grip on his head, and felt come splash across his cheek and lips. Jiang Wanyin looked a picture of debauchery above him, cheeks and neck and shoulders flushed, his mouth wet and panting.

Nie Huaisang, his robes already well past salvaging, wiped them across his face, removing the spend from his skin. Then he was hauled up onto the bed by shaking hands, Jiang Wanyin rolling him over until he was laid beneath him, staring down at Nie Huaisang with wide, dark eyes. Nie Huaisang licked his lips and watched as Jiang Wanyin, like a moth to a candle, followed it again. Ah, he was so easy. It was wonderful.

The kiss that followed was leisurely, Jiang Wanyin still sluggish and liquid against him, uncaring of his own taste on Nie Huaisang’s lips. He wrapped his arms around Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders and hiked a leg around his waist. Already he wanted more from Jiang Wanyin. His bed partner’s fingers fiddled with the ties on Nie Huaisang’s outer robes, stripping him from each layer and discarding them toward the floor with irreverence. All of Jiang Wanyin’s focus was fixed squarely on the object of his affections, unwrapping him as an anticipated gift, and Nie Huaisang had never felt quite so desirable. Finally, Nie Huaisang was down to his innermost robe, today’s a silken silver, thick enough for warmth and teasingly opaque. 

Jiang Wanyin paused, fiddling with the ties to it. 

Nie Huaisang answered the silent question. “You can take it off, Wanyin. I want you to.”

He left a kiss at Nie Huaisang’s temple, holding him close as he did, the firm pressure of Jiang Wanyin’s mouth against his face grounding, then lifted. Jiang Wanyin slowly tugged the ties free, one hand sliding beneath the robe to touch skin and—oh, oh that was exquisite. His body trembled as Jiang Wanyin’s fingers danced across his chest, anticipation only making it richer. Nie Huaisang’s eyes fell closed and his mouth fell open to pull in air. Jiang Wanyin was practically purring, a low gratified sound rumbling in his chest. 

He opened his eyes as his final robe was slipped off his arms, yanked out from under him, and thrown to the floor. Nie Huaisang tipped his head in askance and Jiang Wanyin leant down to kiss him, nibbling at his lips. As he pulled back, Nie Huaisang seized his chance, leaning up and kissing at the proud column of Jiang Wanyin’s neck, feeling the pulse beneath his skin jump. Nie Huaisang tangled his fingers in Jiang Wanyin’s hair, holding him with covetous hands as he sucked a vivid mark high on his neck.

As he pulled back and admired his work, Jiang Wanyin murmured, “Let me look at you, Huaisang.”

Nie Huaisang let him, falling back against the bed and gesturing openly and grinning up at him. Jiang Wanyin leaned over him, devouring the whole of him with hungry eyes. Then, hands were in his hair, pulling the guan free and letting all Nie Huaisang’s hair fall loose around him on the mattress. He arched up, catching Jiang Wanyin’s mouth and teasing him with fleeting glances of his lips across skin, until he was kissed square on the mouth. Jiang Wanyin’s tongue slid within and twined with his own before shifting to the edge of his mouth, teeth scraping at the tender skin there. Then Jiang Wanyin’s lips were at his jaw, his neck, his clavicle, slowly mapping the contours of his body with his mouth. Slow, lingering kisses were laved across his chest as hands wandered the expanse of his body, starting at his waist and lingering all over. Fingers bushed absently over a nipple and Nie Huaisang’s breath caught at the spark of sensation. Jiang Wanyin followed that with his lips, teeth scraping over the sensitive nub and preening when Nie Huaisang sucked in another rough breath.

“Wanyin,” he whined, squeezing his eyes shut as Jiang Wanyin’s hand brushed over his already hard cock. Nie Huaisang could feel his partner’s answering attempt against his thigh.

Nie Huaisang lifted his head in response to the butterfly touch at the point of his chin. His eyes flickered up to Jiang Wanyin’s, blinking slowly and deep as a midnight river in Yunmeng. 

“You are beautiful,” Jiang Wanyin said, his voice quiet but thick with emotion. 

Nie Huaisang laughed. “Says the most handsome man I have ever looked upon—which, speaking of, can I paint you? I was thinking about it a lot while we were in Lotus Pier and—”

Again, he was being kissed, able to feel the smile on Jiang Wanyin’s lips against his. Nie Huaisang was unsure whether to be annoyed or pleased that kisses appeared to be Jiang Wanyin’s method of choice for making him shut up. He decided he would enjoy it for now.

“We can discuss painting later. You said something about me fucking you, right?” Jiang Wanyin murmured, voice low and sending a shiver through him.

Nie Huaisang replied with a breathless, “Yeah.”

“Do you still—”

“Yes!” he cut in, sitting up. “Yes, and please, and—” 

Jiang Wanyin was already kissing him, palming at his hip and pulling him closer.

“Wait.” Nie Huaisang pulled away. “I’ll be right back.”

He leant over the side of the bed, pulling open a nearby drawer and scrabbling his hand within it until it found a familiar ceramic jar. As he turned back, he found Jiang Wanyin removing Zidian from his hand, the snake slithering from his wrist and curling up to be placed on top of the dresser beside his bed.

They collided in a flurry, Nie Huaisang shoving at Jiang Wanyin’s shoulders until he lay back on his elbows, cock already half hard and bobbing at his stomach. Nie Huaisang climbed atop him, knees on either side of his waist and unstoppered the jar. He tipped some of the oil directly onto Jiang Wanyin’s cock, watching it twitch at the sensation and grinning to himself about it. He also tipped some onto his hand, slicking his fingers up and reaching behind himself. Nie Huaisang made much more of a show of it than it needed to be, sinking his fingers within himself to ease the way. He was well practiced at this on his own and could easily take him, but Jiang Wanyin appeared to be enjoying the view, his breath laboured as he watched Nie Huaisang fuck himself. His right hand kneaded at the flesh of Nie Huaisang’s thigh while his left slowly stroked the oil up his cock. Then, watching Nie Huaisang carefully, Jiang Wanyin let go of himself and reached out, sliding one of his own fingers in beside Nie Huaisang’s own.

“Oh,” Nie Huaisang moaned, his head tipping up and feeling his hair tickle his lower back, skin suddenly overly sensitive. “Fuck.”

“Huaisang,” Jiang Wanyin began, voice raw and sending raw need all through him.

“Okay, okay, just—” He batted Jiang Wanyin’s hand away after slipping his own fingers free, then took him in hand and guided him to his entrance. He breathed out as he lowered himself down. Jiang Wanyin’s hands snapped to his hips, very kindly steading him with a firm grip as he was filled. Nie Huaisang groaned at the sensation, mouth falling open at the pleasure sparking up his spine. 

“Oh you feel wonderful,” Nie Huaisang whispered when he was fully seated on his cock, breathing hard. It was overwhelming, the emotional culmination of all his desires so securely wrapped up in Jiang Wanyin. He swore as he rocked his hips tentatively, balancing himself with palms pressed to Jiang Wanyin’s stomach, feeling the muscles beneath them quiver. 

Jiang Wanyin’s hands clutched at his waist, then slipped up his side to pull Nie Huaisang down to him. Jiang Wanyin very carefully rolled them over, his hands cupping his head and waist as he did so. Nie Huaisang grinned at the other the entire time, touched at how careful he was being, hopelessly in love with this man of so many contradictions. When they were settled, he hooked his legs around Jiang Wanyin’s back, his arms going around his shoulders, gripping him tightly, wanting to be closer.

Jiang Wanyin held himself up on his elbows, his lower half heavy where it pressed him down into the bed. He felt grounded and secure in the embrace, the firm weight of him without and within stealing all the air from his lungs. Jiang Wanyin kissed Nie Huaisang as he thrust slowly into him, moulding their lips together in a mirror of the rest of them. Nie Huaisang moaned into it, relishing the slick slide of Jiang Wanyin’s cock and tongue inside him, filling him in all the right ways. 

They lost themselves in the steady, heated motions of each other. Jiang Wanyin fucking him with a focused and deliberate rhythm, slow, intense rolls of his hips pushing Nie Huaisang deeper into the bed.  The air around them was thick, close with heated breaths where they panted into each other’s mouths, eventually too far gone to kiss clearly. Nie Huaisang felt wrung out, desperate for more, for something, but equally content to hover here in this endlessly pleasurable in-between with Jiang Wanyin. Just them, slick with sweat and the wetness that dripped from Nie Huaisang’s cock between them.

Nie Huaisang's spine bowed, head falling back as Jiang Wanyin fucked forward unexpectedly hard within him. He let out a shattered moan. His thoughts fixated on the way Jiang Wanyin’s chest heaved with his own breaths, the air washing across his damp skin. Nie Huaisang’s legs trembled as Jiang Wanyin’s needy hands surely left bruises at his waist and thighs. His flingers gripped tight and moved Nie Huaisang to better fuck him, the languid pace of before slowly falling away to fervent need. Nie Huaisang left his own marks on Jiang Wanyin in turn, nails scratching down his spine, urging him on and clinging tight with every perfect brush over the pleasure point within him. The convergence of their bodies, held so tightly together, was enough friction on his cock to slowly push him towards the edge.

“Wanyin,” he gasped out, hand palming at a muscular ass, trying to pull him closer. “I’m so close, I—”

“Yes, Huaisang.” A raw snap of hips. “Fuck—I—”

Nie Huaisang came hard, ears ringing as Jiang Wanyin fucked him through the sensations, body shaking with the intensity of it. He couldn’t even get a sound out, voice stripped from him as he gasped out a breath and shuddered, spilling between them. Jiang Wanyin fucked him harder, an intense rock of bodies and grasping hands until he followed. He groaned, the sound sending another wave of pleasure through Nie Huaisang as Jiang Wanyin found his peak within him. 

They lay together in the quiet, the sound of their ragged breathing the only thing breaking the silence. 

Nie Huaisang tipped his head and kissed Jiang Wanyin’s cheek, his exhausted hand reaching up to brush away the strands of hair fallen in his face. Jiang Wanyin was beautiful, skin slick with sweat and a dazed expression on his face, staring back at Nie Huaisang as though he were a god.

“I love you,” Nie Huaisang murmured, dipping in for a sweet brush of lips. Jiang Wanyin blinked blearily at him, his hand tracing Nie Huaisang’s cheek with a low-lidded intensity. 

Nie Huaisang kissed him on the forehead, briefly exiting the bed to find a cloth to tidy themselves up with, before immediately clambering back into bed with him. He snuggled himself within the embrace of Jiang Wanyin’s arms, nosing against his throat and hooking their legs together.

They fell asleep, Jiang Wanyin wrapped close around him.

The world came back to him in stages, as layers of silk being drawn away from his eyes. He was warm, the bed beneath him soft, and the body against his welcoming. He breathed in deep and was comforted by the smell of Jiang Wanyin beside him, his skin, his hair, all perfect.

“Good morning,” Nie Huaisang mumbled, cuddling in closer to the naked body of Jiang Wanyin.

A hum answered him, along with a returned tightened grip, then silence. 

Nie Huaisang slowly opened his eyes to regard his bed partner, and found him already back asleep. He wondered if Jiang Wanyin had even actually awoken. He smiled to himself. Jiang Wanyin was soft in slumber, his eyes gently closed, lashes laid on his cheek. His lips were slightly parted, breathing slow and even, with strands of hair falling like soaking rain across his face.

Nie Huaisang’s stomach fluttered at the unspoken trust to be allowed this with Jiang Wanyin. Naked, completely, knowing even Zidian was set away on a counter. He closed his eyes, settling back to rest, not sleeping, just basking in the closeness of the moment and listening to Jiang Wanyin breathe.

He reopened his eyes as the body beside him shifted next, a long, slow inhale and a scrunching of his eyes and forehead. Jiang Wanyin’s eyes opened this time. He blinked slowly, a small, sweet frown creasing his forehead as he appeared to work out where he was. Nie Huaisang smiled at him the entire time, brushing their noses together.

“Huaisang?”

“Mn.” He leant in and brushed their mouths together, a chaste greeting. A testing of the waters.

Jiang Wanyin responded as hoped, leaning into the kiss and touching him back with careful intent. His hand skirted over the curves of Nie Huaisang’s side and back, coming to rest at the lowest dip of his waist.

“Did you sleep well?” Nie Huaisang asked, keeping close in their embrace.

Jiang Wanyin’s mouth quirked up, hold tightening. “I think you know I did.”

Nie Huaisang grinned and leaned back in, thrilled that it appeared he was allowed to just kiss Jiang Wanyin whenever he liked. The kiss was slow, a steady meeting of mouths, lips shifting as they took the time to map the shape of each other. They traded unhurried kisses in the morning light, Jiang Wanyin’s hand cupping his neck, while the other resumed its motion up and down his side in a soothing pattern. Nie Huaisang’s own arm was trapped beneath Jiang Wanyin, laid flat across the bed, while his free hand was thrown around his back.

“So you invited Wei Wuxian to Lotus Pier?” Nie Huaisang asked into the silence when they had fallen back to just staring at one another from between the sheets. He was fascinated by this turn of events but had been far too distracted yesterday to care a whit about it then. Now he wanted the gossip.

“I also invited A-Ling.”

“To stop you both from killing each other?” he laughed.

Jiang Wanyin hummed. “And I thought he deserved to hear the truth as well.”

“And things went…well?”

He let out a short bark of laughter. “About as you had predicted. We shouted at each other for…quite a while.”

“Did it help?”

“Yes, in some ways.” He groaned, frustration in the sound. “Things were always easier with A-jie. She had always softened things between us. It’s…difficult without her here.”

“I imagine Jin Ling wasn’t the soothing presence she would have been?” Nie Huaisang laughed. 

“No. A-Ling is more like his father.”

“And you,” Nie Huaisang added, nudging his side. “Jin Ling is a lot like you. He gets the same little angry expression you do.” He poked Jiang Wanyin between his brows. “Just here.” That exact look was pointed at him. “He also shows his love by being mean about it.”

“Is there anything you like about me?”

“You say that like I don’t like it when you’re mean,” Nie Huaisang sighed, forlorn. “You think that little frown doesn’t make me hot all over?” He pressed his hips closer, kissing Jiang Wanyin’s lips softly. “I like everything about you, Wanyin.”

Jiang Wanyin kissed him back, suckling on his lower lip. 

“I like that you’re sharp and a little vicious underneath that soft outer layer,” Jiang Wanyin said, a hand palming at his ass. “Hm, quite soft.”

“Stop!” he cried, laughing and wiggling in place. 

They rolled around the bed like children, hands batting at each other until Nie Huaisang gave up. He flopped backwards against the mattress and cried for mercy, hiding his face from his assailant. Jiang Wanyin just laughed, cuddling back up beside him on the bed and leaving an apologetic kiss to his shoulder.

“So,” Jiang Wanyin mumbled, voice serious, and Nie Huaisang revealed his face from the safety of his arms. His beloved was staring at him from across the pillow, their noses nearly touching once he turned his head. “I have to leave this morning but I do not wish to leave without…making things clear. Yesterday. You said…”

When the answer was not forthcoming, Nie Huaisang poked his side and said, “Many things, yes. Which thing, specifically, did you mean?”

The serious tilt to his mouth was terribly endearing. “About us…courting. I would like that as well, though I do foresee some issues down the line with marriage due to our stations.”

“Oh,” Nie Huaisang breathed out, his heart leaping suddenly, disbelief and elation equally buoyant in his chest. “Well, that’s easy, really.” Jiang Wanyin blinked at him, his leg shifting beneath the blankets closer to Nie Huaisang. “I hand over the Nie Sect to my most capable cousin, and come marry you.”

Jiang Wanyin stared at him with wide eyes.

“You know I think you did rather well,” Nie Huaisang considered and began listing on his fingers. “A natural beauty. Virtuous and caring.” Jiang Wanyin groaned, hiding his face against Nie Huaisang’s chest. “Comes from a good family. Not too chatty, with a gentle voice. Not too capable. Doesn’t burn through money—I think I cover most of those things, not all of course, but sometimes one must settle for less.”

“I can’t believe you remember such rubbish,” Jiang Wanyin moaned.

“How could I not remember?” Nie Huaisang countered, batting at his shoulder. “Any useful piece of information on how I could win you was jealously guarded.”

“You really liked me so much?” 

“Mn.” He kissed the top of Jiang Wanyin’s head. “I still do, in fact.”

“You’d leave the Nie Sect for me?” 

“I’ve been training a few cousins of mine for years one to ensure that if I were to have an ‘unfortunate accident’ before my plans came to a head, that the sect would be in good hands. And two, when my plans were done and the sect in a comfortable position, I could walk away. Wash my hands of it all and take my foolish reputation with me if I wanted to.”

“For me?” Jiang Wanyin pressed.

“Of course—Wanyin, I loved you at sixteen and I love you now. I think I forgot how to in those middle years, but—”

“You didn’t”

“Ah?”

Jiang Wanyin ran his knuckles down his cheek. “You loved your brother. You loved him enough to do anything for him. You did not forget how.”

It hit like a knife to his stomach. 

Nie Huaisang burst into tears, unexpected and overwhelming, even to himself. “Sorry,” he gasped. “I don’t—”

Jiang Wanyin embraced him tightly, a hand cradling the back of his head and folding Nie Huaisang into him. Nie Huaisang returned it, his fingers clinging tight to the bare skin beneath them, curling in as close as he could. Jiang Wanyin’s hands soothed him in long, slow strokes down his spine. The thumb of the hand holding his head moved back and forth. The embrace was almost suffocating and it was exactly what he needed. 

“If you would be willing to leave here,” Jiang Wanyin said into his hair. “I would await you with open arms.” 

Nie Huaisang nodded, sniffing. When he felt he had pieced himself together enough, he leant back.

Jiang Wanyin smiled at him. “You’re not that cute when you cry either,” he noted.

Nie Huaisang whacked him on the chest, then burst into wet laughter again. “Mean!” he reiterated, throwing himself from Jiang Wanyin’s embrace and getting out of bed. “I’m going to find us breakfast.”

It didn’t take him long. After pulling on a thick inner robe and wiping at his face, he ducked his head outside his room to see if he could wave down a disciple, and found breakfast set outside the door. It was set on two trays, talismans keeping the food warm, and right beside one of the bowls, was Jiang Wanyin’s guan. Nie Huaisang snorted as he suddenly remembered discarding it somewhere in his office. Subtle, they had not been.

Picking up the two trays, Nie Huaisang returned within and set both down on the table. He picked up Jiang Wanyin’s guan and carried it over to him. He had managed to pull on his pants and inner robe from yesterday, hair still wonderfully loose over his shoulders.

“Look what I found,” Nie Huaisang called, brandishing the hair piece in his fingers.

Jiang Wanyin reached up to take it. Nie Huaisang snatched it back.

“Huaisang?”

“May I have the honour of doing Sect Leader Jiang’s hair today?” he asked, hiding the guan behind his back and sliding in closer. He pressed his front to Jiang Wanyin’s, tipping his head up and fluttering his eyelashes at him. Jiang Wanyin’s eyes were soft in the morning light, before he leaned in and brushed their noses together.

“You may,” Jiang Wanyin said, arms snaking around Nie Huaisang’s back. He tipped his head, and Nie Huaisang could feel the breath of his passing lips and—

Jiang Wanyin snatched his guan from Nie Huaisang’s distracted fingers. “After breakfast,” he said, pulling back and placing it on the top of a nearby table.

“Cheater,” Nie Huaisang pouted.

Jiang Wanyin kissed him properly as he passed, leaning down and cupping his cheek in a drifting breeze of affection. Nie Huaisang’s heart fluttered, a bird caught on that short gust, and trailed Jiang Wanyin to the table. He was still knocked over just by the fact that Jiang Wanyin did want him. That his tipsy, lust-addled words had been what had so thoroughly driven a wedge between them—but Jiang Wanyin had come back. Nie Huaisang suspected he owed Wei Wuxian for knocking something in Jiang Wanyin’s head.

They ate breakfast in a contented silence, sharing things between their plates and catching eyes as they did so. Each look and little gift of food had Nie Huaisang smiling foolishly, his cheeks flushed from the amount of joy coursing through his body. When they were done, he decided to make an attempt at Jiang Wanyin’s hair.

He remained seated while Nie Huaisang went and fetched all the things he would need, returning to him with anticipation. Taking his favourite comb—made of dark wood and carved with soaring birds—he began brushing out his long hair, removing any tangles that Nie Huaisang himself had put there with his needy, grabbing hands. Jiang Wanyin had beautiful hair, long and well cared for and unusually fine, silken between his fingers. Once it was all tangle-free, the real plot began. He pulled up and away most of his hair, tying it off with a loose ribbon, and carefully extracting two shorter sections on either side of his head, just above his ears. He set to work, winding the hair together in an intricate pattern, leading back towards the pulled up section of hair.

“What are you doing?” Jiang Wanyin asked, still keeping perfectly still.

Nie Huaisang grinned to himself. “Making a statement.”

A beat, then, “You’re putting braids in my hair.”

“Mn. Exactly that.”

There was a small sound of acknowledgement, then Jiang Wanyin was quiet. Tacit agreement! Wonderful. Besides, it is not as though the Nie Sect had not figured out what was going on here. If Nie Jianyu had not immediately spread the gossip of what he had seen, then Nie Huaisang would eat his blade. His disciples would not care for his choices, they were too loyal for that, but gods above did they love whispering secrets to one another. The Jiang and Wei Wuxian were also going to notice the way Jiang Wanyin was gone for one night, returned in the same clothes, and that Nie Huaisang had very intentionally left a vivid mark on the side of Jiang Wanyin’s neck, just below his right ear. He was simply giving them all a little hint as to the source of it. He had made his claim now, and he was not about to give the man up. Jiang Wanyin was off limits.

Nie Huaisang finished his work, winding the twin braids now framing his face up into his hair and affixing it altogether with the guan. He stroked his fingers through it a few times, ensuring it was sitting perfectly, then moved to sit on the floor before Jiang Wanyin, settling onto his knees and admiring his work.

He touched Jiang Wanyin’s chin and turned his head from side to side; yes, he had done rather an excellent job actually.

“Very handsome,” he concluded.

“Satisfied?” Jiang Wanyin asked.

“For now,” Nie Huaisang allowed. “Your disciples will find you looking even better than when you left. You could stay again tonight if you wanted though.”

“I do want,” Jiang Wanyin said, “but I will have enough of a disaster to clean up as it is. I left…rather abruptly.”

“Oh?”

“Wei Wuxian and I spoke late into the night of…what was two days ago,” he said. “He gave me much to think about—too much—and I didn’t exactly sleep well, but I knew I had to see you and—

“And then you flew all the way here in a day, yesterday, skipping out on everything you were meant to do,” Nie Huaisang surmised.

“Yes.”

“No wonder you were so sleepy this morning,” he laughed, running his fingers through the ends of his hair again. “Thank you. I am glad you did.”

“I am as well.”

They finished dressing themselves, Nie Huaisang finding something clean and not completely ruined to wear. Jiang Wanyin stood before his mirror and redressed himself in his things, a little crumpled from where they had been unceremoniously discarded on the floor, but fine enough to get him home. Nie Huaisang took a moment to admire that he had perfectly placed the love bite on Jiang Wanyin’s neck, partially hidden by the collar of his robes, but obvious enough to not be missed. Their eyes caught in the mirror, Nie Huaisang grinning, far too pleased with himself for Jiang Wanyin not to work out his intent.

Nie Huaisang tried to run when he saw the sudden predatory glint in Jiang Wanyin’s eye, but he was too slow. Strong arms caught his waist as he turned to escape, bringing him to a dead stop. Jiang Wanyin’s body was pressed to his back as teeth sunk into the side of Nie Huaisang’s neck. He laughed breathlessly, not even bothering to struggle, legs already going weak as desire flashed through his body. 

There was a satisfied sound beside his ear as the mouth detached from his neck. “Something for you to remember me by,” Jiang Wanyin mused, kissing the bruised mark.

“Scandalous,” Nie Huaisang teased, turning in the embrace. He leant up, neck reaching as he kissed Jiang Wanyin good-bye. 

“I’ll visit soon, I promise,” Nie Huaisang whispered, staring up at Jiang Wanyin’s face and the soft expression upon it. “I have a few things I need to get done and then I’ll visit.” His hands loosely clung to the front of Jiang Wanyin’s robes, the soft silk cool under his hands. 

“Soon,” Jiang Wanyin agreed. 

Soon ended up being nearly three weeks. It had taken one to sort out all of his jobs to be even able to escape for a short time without running the Nie Sect into the ground, and then a convoy of refugees had appeared at his gate citing some awful creature terrorising their homes. That, obviously, had to take precedence, as much as his whole body yearned to run directly to Lotus Pier and fling himself into Jiang Wanyin’s embrace. 

He sent off a handful of disciples to make sure it was handled, while Nie Huaisang made sure the refugees were kept safe within the walls of the Unclean Realm. But the moment it was safe and the last of them had headed home or onwards to new prospects, Nie Huaisang handed the reins over to Nie Jianyu and flown to Lotus Pier.

As promised, Jiang Wanyin had welcomed him with open arms, quite literally in the way they had fallen into one another the moment they were behind the closed doors of Jiang Wanyin’s chambers. Jiang Wanyin whispered sweet things into his ears, while Nie Huaisang returned them with filthy thoughts and wandering hands, until both of them spent, still pressed up against the doors to his rooms. Collapsed to the floor in a heap afterwards, they had laughed themselves silly.

A year passed in stolen moments, Jiang Wanyin sneaking trips to the Unclean Realm and Nie Huaisang finding as many excuses as he could to come to Lotus Pier. Joint night-hunting expeditions between the Jiang and the Nie became commonplace in the midlands between their sects. Sect gatherings suddenly became a thing to be looked forward to rather than dreaded, perfect to find a quiet corner with one another in between endless conversations and arguments over minor problems with sect matters. They quietly courted one another, trading small gifts and tokens of affection.

Wei Wuxian cornered him about it at the first sect gathering he attended afterwards, bundling him off into a corner with a bribe of wine. Apparently, Jiang Wanyin had been rather in his cups by the time the topic of Nie Huaisang had come up the night Jiang Wanyin had invited him and Jin Ling to Lotus Pier. Jin Ling had already gone to bed, and much of what had passed between Jiang Wanyin and Nie Huaisang in those weeks had tumbled out of Jiang Wanyin’s mouth to Wei Wuxian’s surprise and fascination. But then, when he had returned from the Unclean Realm, looking very smug with braids in his hair and a love-bite on his neck, he refused to tell Wei Wuxian anything, regardless of a very clear answer being available to all. Nie Huaisang just confirmed what he already suspected. Wei Wuxian had seemed pleased about it.

Jin Ling had found out accidentally. He had dropped in unannounced to Lotus Pier and gone searching for Jiang Wanyin. As a young man used to his uncle’s undivided attention and time, he did as he always apparently had, and walked into Jiang Wanyin’s office without knocking. Thankfully, everyone's clothes had still been on, but Nie Huaisang had been half-clambered into Jiang Wanyin’s lap, kissing him with the intention for clothes to soon be out of the picture. Jin Ling’s squeak of surprise had pulled them both up short, the Jin sect leader frozen in the doorway before turning on his heel and making a quick retreat. Jiang Wanyin had followed him to explain, while Nie Huaisang had cackled wildly. He had apparently taken it rather well, after the shock had worn off. He still couldn't meet Nie Huaisang’s eyes for a few weeks after though.

When they were apart, Nie Huaisang spent much of his time in the Unclean Realm ensuring Nie Jianyu, who he had decided would be the best fit, would be ready to take over the mantle of Nie Sect Leader. He was a clever man with an unusually level head for someone with their cultivation practices. Besides, da-ge had always liked him, thought him an upstanding man and skilled with a sabre. 

He held some quiet regret in his heart for handing his brother’s sect over, passing it away as though it were an unwanted gift—but he also didn’t think da-ge would want him to be miserable for the rest of his days. For as much as they had disagreed on things, Nie Mingjue had always loved him and sought his happiness where he could. And Nie Huaisang had also, intentionally, ruined the reputation of his own name. Head Shaker and Good-For-Nothing, these were not titles of a man leading his sect to greatness. But he thought Nie Jianyu could. It would help that he was a little older, somewhere between himself and da-ge, so he would not be some great affront to the elder generation at least. 

Of course, when he did finally step down from his position as Nie Sect Leader, speculation inevitably abounded. They had made it clear that it was happening because Nie Huaisang no longer wished to hold the position, but gossip was far more entertaining for most, and so rumours spread. He had finally been deposed by a disciple. He was ill and soon to die. He had run away in the night with some low-born woman. He had attended a night hunt for the first time in his life and been wounded, whether that was just badly or mortally varied on the teller. He mostly ignored the rumours, and stayed another few months to ensure a smooth transition. 

Then, when it was all settled, he and Jiang Wanyin quietly married.

They had decided it should be a small affair. Only Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian (with Lan Wangji inevitably following), and Nie Jianyu bringing Nie Mingjue’s name plate, were invited. Jiang Wanyin initially wanted to do it properly, invite the cultivation world, but Nie Huaisang had refused, pointing out that they would have to hear every terrible opinion on the matter from Sect Leader Yao both before and during the wedding. That had swayed Jiang Wanyin to his side. He, personally, hadn’t wanted to ruin a happy day with the inevitable judgement of the other sects. It could come later, that was fine, but he wanted this moment to himself. Just them and their closest. 

It had been perfect. A warm spring day, the gardens around Lotus Pier in full bloom and the sun shining above. Jiang Wanyin had looked breathtakingly handsome in red and gold, and Nie Huaisang had felt very beautiful in his own robes. Afterward, Nie Huaisang had settled easily into life at Lotus Pier, though he had not been there long.

Today was the first sect event they had attended as a married pair, having wed two months ago. It was the latest discussion conference, and it was Jiang Wanyin’s turn to host the event, all of the sect leaders converging on Lotus Pier. 

He was watching the room again as he often liked to do when in a crowd, fan in hand, half obscuring himself from the room. It was becoming quite late now and he observed the patterns of who was in favour, who was drinking the most, and who was already working to secure alliances in the inevitable debates to come over the next few days. Sect Leader Jin, taller again since Nie Huaisang had last seen him at their wedding, was hiding in the corner with Sect Leader Ouyang’s son, whispering to each other and sharing a jar of wine. Sect Leader Rong was once again working the room, on the lookout for who might be interested in marrying a daughter to his eldest son. Sect Leader Qin was trying to get into the Chief Cultivator’s good graces and watching him fail spectacularly was particularly entertaining. Lan Wangji’s inscrutable face continued to just make the man more anxious.

Most of the guests appeared to be giving him a wide berth for now, though he caught eyes flashing in his direction on occasion. It made sense, here he was, a known face of the Nie Sect, clad now in fine lavender robes and seated prominently within the Jiang Sect.

He was brought out of his thoughts as a whirl of black and red robes approached.

“Madam Jiang,” Wei Wuxian greeted, sliding up next to him with a bright smile and two cups of wine.

Two could play at that game. “Madam Lan,” Nie Huaisang returned slyly, taking the offered cup.

Wei Wuxian snorted and threw his now empty arm around his shoulder, a companionable motion so much more familiar from their younger days, and slowly becoming more commonplace again.

“How is married life?” Wei Wuxian asked. “I assume Jiang Cheng is treating you well? Or do I need to kick his ass for you?”

“Very well, thank you,” Nie Huaisang replied, appreciating the thought, unneeded as it was. “We are both very happy with how things are. No kicking required.”

Wei Wuxian hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps just for fun then once everyone has left in a few days. He’s going to want to by the end of this.”

That he would. Jiang Wanyin had already spent the past week silently stressing about the preparations, and Nie Huaisang knew it wasn’t about the conference. He had hosted many in the past, he was good at this. He knew this was about the reaction to Nie Huaisang’s presence and station. He, himself, wasn't all that worried about it. It had happened, they were married, no matter what stupid thing any of those stuffy old men had to say, they couldn’t undo that. If anything, it would just be funny now. 

“I’m sure Wanyin would welcome you to stay for a time after,” Nie Huaisang said, then laughed. “I forget that I can do this now—Wei Wuxian, I would love for you to stay.”

Wei Wuxian grinned at him. “Thank you. It would line up well. A-Yuan and Jingyi were planning to arrive after to go night-hunting with A-Ling and Ouyang Zizhen. Lan Zhan and I were going to accompany them for a bit.”

Nie Huaisang fanned himself. “Take Wanyin with you, he could do with an outing.”

“Yeah?”

“Mn.”

Nie Huaisang, when he had finally explained to Jiang Wanyin about the Nie sword spirits, had been banned from night-hunting. Which, really, was the most ideal outcome Nie Huaisang could have ever hoped for. He didn’t like training, he didn’t like night-hunting, and he certainly hated the anxiety that both those things caused. So, in a perfect turn of events, he no longer had to do either. He lived the life he wanted, loved and free to paint and read and write as much as his heart desired. He was inevitably just as involved in sect politics as before, Jiang Wanyin often seeking his opinion on one thing or another, working together for the betterment of the Jiang Sect. The both of them were often found hidden away in Jiang Wanyin’s study in the evenings, pouring over correspondence and contracts and agreements, piecing together the puzzle of each sect's ambitions. 

“Your husband looks like he could do with rescuing,” Nie Huaisang noted, nodding his head to where Sect Leader Qin appeared to be digging himself deeper and deeper into some kind of hole given the frown slowly creeping across Lan Wangji’s expression.

“Ah, you may be right.” Wei Wuxian tipped the remainder of his wine down his throat. “I’ll find you later tonight. I think I saw Jiang Cheng head outside. He looked angry about something.”

Nie Huaisang nodded and watched Wei Wuxian go. He finished his own drink, setting it down at his table, and wandered towards the exit. He caught a few more pointed looks in his direction as he left the main hall. Interesting.

It didn’t take him long to find Jiang Wanyin. Wandering past his favourite haunts, Nie Huaisang found him standing at the edge of the nearest pier to the sect entrance. His shoulders did hold that high-angled tension that only hovered there when he was worrying about something.

“Hello, husband,” Nie Huaisang greeted, leaning up beside him. “Sick of our guests already?”

“I may have ruined your surprise,” Jiang Wanyin replied, turning his head and kissing Nie Huaisang’s temple. An arm wrapped around his waist.

“Oh?”

“Sect Leader Ouyang wished to share his thoughts with me on your presence and your wearing my colours,” Jiang Wanyin spat, hand tightening on his clothes.

Oh, yes, he could see how well this could have gone. Nie Huaisang rested his hand over Jiang Wanyin’s where it lay on him, his thumb stroking a soothing pattern over the skin. 

“I informed him I did not wish to hear him speak of my husband in such terms,” he said, staring out at the lotus in the water beneath them. 

Nie Huaisang laughed, delighted. “Ah, I am so sad to have missed it,” he lamented, leaning his head on Jiang Wanyin’s shoulder. “I am sure he turned a most flattering shade of red.”

Jiang Wanyin grunted in agreement.

“Well, it does solve our problem of having to do anything about it,” Nie Huaisang said. “He will have shared it with at least half the room by the time we return. They will have gotten the worst of it out of their mouths by now.”

“We can only hope.”

“Don’t worry so much,” Nie Huaisang said quietly, stepping in front of Jiang Wanyin and staring up at him. The moonlight dancing across the water was reflected across his features, lighting him in an ethereal glow. “You’re mine, remember? You married me, you don’t get to wriggle out of that because Sect Leader Ouyang decides he doesn’t like it.”

“I know,” Jiang Wanyin replied.

“Good.” He reached up and thumbed at the crease between his brows. “Stop frowning about it then.”

Jiang Wanyin caught Nie Huaisang’s hand in his own, holding the back and twisting the palm upward. He brought Nie Huaisang’s hand to his lips then, pressing a kiss to the delicate skin, his eyes soft with reflected moonlight. As with every kiss they had shared before, Nie Huaisang’s heart fluttered. His hand curled to caress Jiang Wanyin’s cheek. Stepping in closer again, he let his other arm slide around Jiang Wanyin’s waist and hold him close. The scent of his clothes mixed with the cool water and blooming lotus, and Nie Huaisang breathed it in deep, filling himself with the sense of home. He tipped his head up, offering himself, and Jiang Wanyin took. He pulled their hands away from between them and leant down, a caress of mouths in the low light of the evening. Jiang Wanyin tasted of wine and a quiet adoration, each movement of his lips a silent promise.

“We should go back,” Jiang Wanyin muttered against his mouth. 

Nie Huaisang grumbled, but pulled back, intertwining their fingers together where Jiang Wanyin still held his hand. “Alright.”

They returned inside together.