Chapter Text
Xichen had brought her best pair of robes for the occasion.
She might dislike the luxurious display of Jin's opulence, but no one would be underdressed in Jinlintai. Despite the preaching of morality, Xichen still had some ego and never wanted to be second to anyone. A pride unwilling to be tampered with.
The hall was gushing with people, Sect Leaders, Heirs, Disciples, Cousins...it seemed everybody and their grandmother were invited to the occasion. The sea of faces didn't exactly thrill Xichen. She did enjoy crowds - politically and intellectually aligned crowds. Otherwise, it exhausted her entire liveliness. At the moment, getting blinded by the plethora of gold decorations every other minute, Xichen was leaning towards the latter part.
She stuck very close to the members of her own Sect, only bothering to converse when people introduced themselves. More often than not, some Sect Leaders came to greet her, plastering some of the fakest smiles she had ever witnessed, tugging on the arms of their Sect Heirs or any man of importance - someone closer to Xichen's age, inviting "friendships". Xichen wanted to laugh in their face when one particular Zongzhu went out of his way to say how luminous his second son and Xichen look together, even asking the portrait artist to draw them. Although, to his son's credit, the boy looked pained at the not-so-subtle insinuations, agreeing with her swiftly when she declined the offer.
Politics was at times laughable... and pathetic.
But Xichen may as well admit that her focus was so agitated because, partly, she was wondering where the Nie Clan was. Mingjue-Xiong assured her of his participation, and he was someone who practiced punctuality like the words of the gods. It was surprising not to see him when the event commenced. Xichen felt a sense of trepidation creeping in. Were they well?
Next to her, Xiaolian-Jie kneed her softly, reminding her to answer the question that another Sect Leader was asking. Perhaps she should wear a banner around her neck displaying her favorite color, since that was the 10th time that question was asked by someone.
In her peripheral vision, she saw the Jiang Zongzhu and Jin Zongzhu in conversation - or more like tolerating a conversation while their wives were chattering away. The two Madams of the Sects were infamously best friends; it was no wonder. But the rest of the family on each side didn't seem to share an equal enthusiasm. Zixuan, who was fiddling with his cup, who glared at her as soon as he walked in, and Yanli, who was pushing her soup with the spoon, seemed the most uncomfortable.
Yanli's head snapped up, feeling eyes on her, and she turned towards Xichen. She greeted the girl with a smile, hoping that her interest would get her out of the awkward gathering. Realizing her intent, Yanli gave her a grateful look, muttering something to her father and walking towards her. Not having Yanli there meant Zixuan could also leave, which he did, although, decidedly, he didn't acknowledge Xichen.
Her friend could be the pettiest person alive at times.
"Thank you, Sect Heir Lan."
Yanli said, taking a seat next to her. Xichen just gave her a small smile in response.
The music began shortly after—soft strings, carefully curated to sound effortless. Jinlintai excelled at that: the art of making extravagance appear inevitable. Servants glided between guests with practiced precision, sleeves never brushing gold-lacquered pillars, cups never filled too much or too little. Everything was measured. Everything, except the people.
Xichen accepted a cup of tea, but she had no intention of drinking. The aroma was rich, rare leaves steeped at the exact temperature—she could tell by scent alone. Still, she let it cool untouched in her hands, her attention slipping past polite conversation and curated laughter.
The Nie seats remained empty...
Her fingers tightened slightly around the porcelain.
Inside, her mind was already running through possibilities. Delay due to Night Hunt complications? Unlikely— Mingjue-Xiong would have sent word. Political maneuvering? Possible, but Nie was rarely subtle, and never silent. Injury? The thought settled unpleasantly in her chest, unwelcome and persistent.
Across the hall, Jin Guangshan laughed too loudly at something the Jiang Zongzhu said, his hand lingering a fraction too long on the man’s arm. The sound grated. Everything about Jinlintai grated—too bright, too loud, too indulgent. Even the gold seemed restless, catching the light in a way that demanded attention.
Xichen looked away.
She was vaguely aware of Zixuan rejoining a cluster of Sect Heirs, his posture stiff, jaw set. He did not look at Yanli’s empty seat. He did not look at Xichen. Instead, he laughed when prompted, a brittle sound that did not reach his eyes.
Children playing into adulthood, she thought wearily. And adults enabling them.
A shadow moved near the threshold, and Xichen’s spine straightened before her mind could catch up.
But it was only another servant—head bowed, steps silent, bearing a tray of gilded cups toward the inner pavilion. The disappointment was swift and sharp enough that she resented it immediately.
Get a hold of yourself, Xichen.
She took a measured sip of tea at last. It was excellent. Of course it was. Jinlintai spared no expense in vivacious assortments.
“Sect Heir Lan.”
The voice was gentle. Familiar. Xichen turned to find Jiang Yanli beside her, hands folded neatly at her waist, eyes warm with concern rather than curiosity.
“Jiang-guniang,”
Yanli hesitated only a moment before speaking again.
“You seem… a little restless. I hope I am not mistaken.”
Xichen blinked, then let out the smallest breath of a laugh. She may need to work on her poker face if she were caught this easily.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only if one knows where to look,” Yanli replied softly, lips curving. A gentle, reassuring hand tapping hers in a calm rhythm. “You keep glancing toward the entrance.”
Xichen allowed herself a fraction of honesty. “A...friend was meant to arrive earlier than this.”
Somehow, calling Mingjue-Xiong a friend seemed inadequate. She used that tag for a lot of people, after all. But she had not been as transparent or vulnerable with many of them the way she was with Nie Mingjue. She dared to say he may know her enough only to be second to her own family members. Should she say best friend?
Yanli’s gaze followed Xichen’s briefly, then returned, thoughtful.
“Waiting can be heavier than action,” she said. “Especially when one is used to carrying responsibility.”
There it was. That quiet understanding Yanli wielded like a balm. No doubt from her own experience. As far as Xichen had known her, the girl had been waiting on Zixuan, waiting on a better outlook for the situation she was entangled in.
“They will come,” Yanli added, almost absently, as though stating a universal truth. “People who are meant to stand beside you usually do.”
Xichen studied her for a moment — this girl so often dismissed as gentle, as plain, as unremarkable. And yet here she was, steady as an anchor in a room full of gilded currents. Xichen wondered whether there was some hidden malignancy in that statement, as if to say that her waiting was always fruitful in contrast to Yanli's, whose waiting had not reaped in any way but only rotted with time.
But Yanli didn't seem the type to harbor any malignancy. Even if she did, it probably wasn't directed at Xichen but at herself and the situation. Yet, Xichen felt the urge to apologize.
"Jiang-guaninag-"
"Call me Yanli, please. And there's no need for explanation, Sect Heir Lan. I didn't mean to be mean. Just wanted to express that nobody would ever want to keep you waiting. I was trying to show my admiration, but clearly, I am not as good as you with my words."
Her face was a soft smile, eyes clear and bright, shining with sincerity. Xichen felt herself sigh in relief.
"Well, then, I am Xichen, Yanli-Jie. And that's a very kind thing to say, although I think the description may suit you better. I do not know how Zixuan could be so oblivious, but trust me, he'll regret this so much. You are so easy to be nice to...to want to be nice to. It's not your fault that he is...shall we say emotionally challenged?"
Her elaborate phrasing made Yanli snort softly, her hands flying to her lips to conceal a laugh. Xichen felt herself grinning back at her. Truly, Yanli was so easy to be with.
"I didn't expect the esteemed Lan Sect Heir to have a mischievous streak." Yanli's eyes were full of mirth as she leaned closer to her, as if reassuring her that she was merely jesting. Xichen smiled back in reply.
"Now that we're friends, you'll see that Lans aren't always walls with minimal emotions."
That actually made Yanli laugh out loud; a few sects looked at the two of them curiously. Xichen pressed her own lips together to keep her laughter inside, and a red Yanli bowed hastily in apology for her exclamation.
"Xichen!" A whisper of a shout, although her eyes remained fond. Xichen just gave her a purposeful look of shining eyes, to which Yanli only shook her head slightly, a smile gracing her lips. Both of them sobering up slowly.
“Yanli-Jie,” Xichen said, lowering her voice, “may I ask you something?”
Yanli nodded immediately, looking at her with rapt attention.
“Of course.”
Xichen hesitated—not because she did not know how to ask, but because she knew exactly what she was stepping into. She didn't want to meddle in matters, but she was genuinely curious. And Xichen had a bad habit of relentless pursuit of mystery when her curiosity wasn't satisfied.
“It's about your engagement.”
“Yes?”
“If this is too forward, you may tell me to stop,” Xichen added quickly, not wanting the girl to grow uncomfortable to parch her thirst for information. “But… why do you not ask to have it dissolved?”
Yanli looked at her then — not startled or offended. Thoughtful.
“My father would agree,” Yanli said simply, contemplation in her voice as her gaze locked in on some invisible point in the distance. Fingers playing absentmindedly on her lap.
Xichen blinked.
“He would?”
Xichen had never heard such certainty over parental decisions on any child of a Sect Leader before. Certainly not her. She didn't even know her father enough to know his favorite dish, much less his thoughts on a potential political marriage. And her mother was never allowed any say in such matters. Even in the Nie household, where Mingjue was comparatively very close with his father, he never implied such certainty in any of his father's decisions.
Xichen had thought it was the way. When your parent is a Sect Leader, you become only a part of his/her life. A part that might have to be of less priority when an entire Sect was concerned. But Yanli spoke with a conviction that Jiang Zongzhu - damned the consequences- would always choose her.
“He would,” Yanli repeated. “Immediately, if I asked.”
That surprised her. But then again, Jiang Zongzhu’s affection for his daughter was well known — bordering on indulgent, some said. If anyone had the power to undo an unwanted future, it was Jiang Yanli.
“Then why—” Xichen stopped herself. “Forgive me.”
Yanli smiled faintly, patting her hand yet again.
“You are not wrong to ask.”
She turned her gaze toward the center of the hall, where Jin Guangshan was holding court with easy laughter, where alliances were reinforced with wine and words, eyes lingering on the intertwined hands of her mother and Jin Furen - animatedly conversing with each other. Xichen hardly found either of them in such jovial and comfortable states. That expression alone makes them look younger by a decade.
“Because,” Yanli said, “this engagement is not only mine.”
Xichen's heart weighed further. This level of burden was too much for an 11-year-old. Their world was so evil sometimes.
“Our mothers,” Yanli continued, “were friends before we were born. Not the kind forged by necessity—but genuine. Rare.” Her voice softened. “In our world, such friendships are fragile. They survive only as long as nothing threatens them. If I break the engagement, it would not be read as a child’s discomfort. It would be read as a slight. A withdrawal. A message.”
“And your mother—” Xichen began.
“—would be blamed,” Yanli finished gently. “Or pitied. Or worse, questioned.”
Xichen inhaled slowly. At eleven years old, Yanli was already mapping political consequences adults pretended not to see.
“And Zixuan?” Xichen asked quietly, slightly dreading the answer. The boy was her friend, a very dear one to her at that. But she was suffering under no delusions. Even if Zixuan was nice to her and a chosen group of people, whether he truly was 'nice' as Yanli was, was not a question.
"Can you live with his scathing indifference and bouts of anger every day?"
Yanli hesitated, just a fraction. Xichen knew Yanli liked him, to some extent at least. Jin Zixuan was a catch - a good suitor. She won't deny that. But would Xichen ever let herself remain in a position as Yanli did? Xichen did not think herself that magnanimous.
“He is… unkind to me sometimes,” Yanli admitted, eyes looking far away, settling on Zixuan's frame, back towards them. He was speaking with that fake smile of his, where his eyes never smiled. Zixuan had a good smile, one of the first factors that made Xichen accept a friendship with him 02 years ago. Where his cheeks formed whisker dimples and he looked so young - younger than he already was. So seeing this smile always made Xichen feel bad. Looking at Yanli's softened eyes, she could tell that feeling was mutual between the two girls.
“But he is not cruel.”
Xichen’s jaw tightened. She wanted to argue. Zixuan, indeed, wasn't cruel. Xichen had witnessed a handful of kind acts he had done with her own two eyes. But the people he bestowed such kindness on were scarce. She had seen Zixuan stand up to Mianmian-Jie's honor, had read multiple letters he had sent to her after her mother's passing away - wording a bit rusty, but the thought gentle, had seen him give up his favorite part of the meat to Mingjue-Xiong in night hunts if he seemed particularly aggravated. But all of them were his inner circle of friends.
Xichen had also seen him walk past a coughing disciple of a lower station without offering a drop of water, although he had plenty, not letting a child of his manservant sit at one of their allocated tables even when he had been standing for so long, and had seen him pass less than desirable comments on his intended without a care in the world. Of course, all the fault can't be put on his tiny shoulders - he had grown up with horrible examples, but someone as genuinely nourishing and kind as Yanli...
Besides, Zixuan had been nothing but cruel to her. If it were Xichen, that would have been sufficient for her to end the engagement if she could.
Yanli noticed —and smiled again, a little ruefully. “Mostly...he is frightened. So am I.”
She glanced toward Zixuan, who had turned slightly in their direction and who immediately turned back, pretending very intently not to watch them when he saw them looking back at him.
“Everyone sees him as Sect Heir Jin,” Yanli said. “Or as my intended. But he is also a boy who has never been asked what he wants.”
Xichen stared at Yanli a bit. Xichen knew that, objectively, many faces here were under the assumption of Zixuan being far superior to her. In terms of status, looks, and accounts. But Yanli proves herself to be far superior to not only Zixuan but also almost everyone Xichen has ever met, including herself.
"Still...do not encourage this. He will never know he's in the wrong." Xichen said, giving Yanli a look under her eyes, wondering whether she had finally overstepped her boundary when she stiffened slightly.
Yanli's eyes sought out Zixuan once again, a small, deprecating smile etching itself on her lips.
"Can you blame him? He has to resent me. I am the most visible part of that future. And resentment is easier than fear to admit.”
“You are very kind,” Xichen said, having nothing else to say. What Xichen truly wanted to say was to ask Yanli why she thinks so, what she thought of herself, but such an invasive question, especially after how much Xichen had overstepped in the very first actual conversation they had together, and seeing that Yanli was fisting her palms in apparent discomfort, felt evil and unprecedented.
Especially when Yanli had indulged her this far, without having any obligation to do so. Even more so when Yanli gave her a lovely smile, gratitude shining beneath her eyes.
Before Xichen could respond the same, a shift rippled through the hall—attention pulling forward, bodies straightening. Automatically, her gaze was directed towards the door, lingering there at the present appearance.
Yanli followed her gaze and smiled knowingly.
“It seems your ally has arrived,” she said again, softer this time.
Across Jinlintai, Nie Mingjue stood rigid and imposing, but even this far, Xichen saw how tense his shoulders were, and when he walked, there was a minute drag to his left leg - she made herself look at the rest of the disciples following him. Huaisang, despite being known as a menace, was unusually quiet, his small face unsmiling for the first time Xichen had seen it, while Zonghui-Xiong still had his slight smirk, but his face was decidedly very empty of the joviality he usually displayed. Only Ziqin-Jie looked the same, but then again, Xichen wasn't well-versed in reading the woman.
But worst of all was the Nie Zongzhu. His light golden skin (Which Mingjue had also inherited) looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes, slightly bloodshot, and a bandage wrapped around his right palm. He still looked the very epitome of the terrifying fighter of his reputation, but his exhaustion was also much more visible in comparison.
What in God's name happened in the Unclean Realm?!
Xichen saw Nie Zongzhu's gaze find hers and accurately read her confusion on her face. As if to dissipate her concerns, his eyes softened, that classic wink he had always given her since their very first meeting, making a reappearance. Seeing his obvious attempt, Xichen didn't have the heart to show that she was not at all soothed by the action. Instead, she allowed her own head to bow a little, greeting the elder with a small smile on her own.
When her head lifted, she saw Mingjue on his father's right, already staring at her. The previous agitation in his expression, softening with recognition and familiarity - something easing in his frame. When he smiled, it seemed slightly more authentic to his father, a small uplift but still valid. And valuable.
Next to her, she heard a small cough. Yanli looked at her and Mingjue with shining eyes. Xichen felt her ears burn slightly hot. She was just looking out for them!
"Your waiting doesn't seem fruitless," was Yanli's whispered smirk. Xichen did not dignify the statement with an answer, although she was sure by then, maybe her cheeks were also a proper red.
But Xichen did not deny it. There was no point. It was clear.
Yanli inclined her head at her inaction, pressing her lips tighter as if to conceal a smile, stepping back toward her place—toward her seat beside a boy who did not yet know how to be kind...to her.
And as she left, Xichen watched her go with a quiet, aching respect, eyes following her briefly, seeing how unassumingly she molded back to the conversation at the head table, back to her introversion.
But still, it was crystal clear, especially when Zixuan had the entitlement even at the end, simply because of his station and his personality in his props. Because, after all, some children were allowed to grow.
And some were asked to endure.
When she turned back, Mingjue-Xiong was already looking at them - eyes trailing Jiang Yanli for a second before coming back to hers, asking her a simple wordless question of 'Everything alright?'. Xichen allowed a small smile before tilting her head to ask the same question back at him. He hesitated a second before mustering up a nod with a small smile.
He was lying. Perhaps partially, but it was a lie.
What had happened? Why were they so off-putting? Now, Xichen had a mission of finding out.
Even though Xichen would've much rather go to bed than indulge in baseless festivities, Jins, it seemed, were very fond of it. At least on the face value. Jin Guangshan, especially, seemed to be having the time of his life, a large, mouth-splitting smile as he sashayed with his drink across the pavilion.
More than once, Xichen had already caught her own disciples muffling yawns and groans. Xichen herself had been valiantly keeping her yawns at bay for the past half an hour. Theirs was a long journey after all. All Xichen wanted was to crawl into bed before the ceremony commenced the next day.
She felt worse still for the Nies, who had arrived already strained, and were now forced to endure Jin Guangshan’s brand of hospitality. Even Madam Jin seemed slightly exhausted now, her fox eyes darting to her husband once every five minutes to get him to stop indulging himself, but that man hardly had eyes for his wife, busying himself with much younger female populations. How dreadful!
Xichen had never wanted to be merciful with her opinions on the man, with the tales she's heard from Zixuan, and every circulating story was enough for her to base her opinions on. Not that she took them at face value, but the stories clearly were true, given Jin Guangshan's behavior from the day she met him. But even if she could ever make herself allow him mercy, that thought flew right out of the window with his very public, very pointed request to all the young girls out there.
"We have such beauties today!" He slurred a bit, leaning on another seemingly drunk Zongzhu of some Sect. Given Jin Zongzhu's status in the hierarchy, the lower clans did all they could to be on his side, to get on his good books. Perhaps, Xichen, as a Lan, as a member of one of the Primary Sects, had the luxury of never needing to kiss the man's feet, but most of their world had to.
The man, despite his many shortcomings, was the head of 1/5th of the major pillars in their world. There was no other option if they were comparatively less privileged. So, Xichen wasn't surprised that the surrounding Zongzhus, except for the major clans, seemed to pay attention to him and express their agreement.
"Why don't we ask them to entertain us for a bit? I'm sure all these lovely girls know a thing or two about poetry~."
Xichen's sword fisted in her hand, purposefully having to calm herself down at the blatant objectification Jin Guangshan did about the girls, who were here to compete or as representatives of their respective sects, to mere tools of entertainment. What more, then? Does he expect personal dances as well?!
But to her further disgust, the minor Clans lapped at this opportunity like starving dogs, presenting their best female disciples or Sect Leaders' daughters and young females of note as objects to be auctioned - all so they could make a gutless mad man happy. Xichen felt distressed seeing the obvious discomfort on their faces, wanting to object to the action.
Yet, her teacher's face was a clear warning. Inciting any contradiction here, where Jin loyalists are so evident, especially with their precarious positions of being the only Sect with an absent Zongzhu, the rumor mill would drive high. For the sake of Gusu Lan, it was not worth the risk. But as Xichen...all she wanted was to stop.
Across them, she saw Nie Zongzhu's eyes also flashing with anger; despite being so clearly in some distress, he looked ready to fight Jin Zongzhu if the need arose. Next to him, Mingjue was almost standing, his Baxia clutched in his hand and eyes burning. Righteous Nie fury was making its presence known so clearly amidst all, sticking stubbornly to their principles amidst adversity. If his father didn't push him back down, murmuring something in his ear that made Mingjue glare up at him but remain rooted, Xichen knew that Mingjue would've given the arrogant jerk a piece of his mind.
On one hand, Xichen was genuinely relieved that his anger didn't prevail, but some corner of her heart also wished he had taken the action, at the very least to spite the cocky Sect Leader.
On her side, Xiaolian-Jie was asking her teacher whether she should perform a text in one of Xichen's personal favorites, having already decided that she would face the public. There were more female disciples - Xichen included but Xiaolian-Jie has taken it upon herself to undertake this specific task. Xichen wanted nothing more than to get her Shijie out of this, too. Xialian-Jie hated public performances. But her hands were tied. No matter how much she wanted to shake her Shijie by the shoulders and implore her not to perform for a man with no morality, as a Sect Heir, she was trapped.
So she only directed a pained, apologetic look at her while Xiaolian-Jie, clearly interpreting it, gave her a reassuring squeeze on her palm.
When it came to Lans, therefore, her Shijie was already standing. But then, Jin Guangshan's voice sounded out.
"Why doesn't the Sect Heir Lan take the chance? She is still a female, after all. We won't like her to forget her feminine charm!"
Xichen's eyes widened, looking at the man in his audacity. How dare he!? She was not much, but she was a Sect Heir!
For a small moment, the entirety of the hall went dead silent, waiting for her reply. She could feel a thousand eyes boring into her. Her eyes met her Shifu's, who had gone suddenly pale and was looking at her with an indifferent face, allowing her the authority to decide now.
As much as she wanted to say no and leave the room, Gusu Lan's reputation was still at risk.
"I'll go," Xiaolian-Jie murmured to her, eyes blazing at the challenge, shielding Xichen from Jin Zongzhu's scrutiny.
But she can't. Not now. When the challenge was so transparently and publicly issued.
"I'll be fine," murmuring back at her, Xichen stood, face blank, directing an empty look at Jin Guangshan. Her head didn't dare to turn anywhere else, to witness her friends' faces. If Zixuan or worse, Mingjue-Xiong saw her helplessness right now...she didn't want to think about it.
Clearing her throat slightly, she started, eyes fixed on Jin Guangshan and him alone as she spoke sentences about the Karmic cycle.
"What actions you may commit, the consequence merit of these actions would follow one around and-" she said, clearly, subtly warning the man about his own reputation. Jin Zongzhu clearly didn't appreciate that, giving her a smug look before opening his mouth yet again.
"Be a little louder now, won't you, Xichen dear? You are very talented in music, according to many, after all."
Xichen felt mortification rush through her, unwilling tears stinging behind her still dry eyes. How dare he slight her like this! How dare he!
Then suddenly, there was a hand on her wrist, a tug, and her body was moving to the exit of the pavilion.
"Huaisang, let go." Gently taking her arm from the pudgy grasp of the small child, Xichen stopped a bit away from the pavilion. "What's wrong? Why did you take me here?"
Confused at Huaisang's sudden action, which even a Zongzhu couldn't really prevent, given how small the child was, Xichen made her voice softer as she asked him questions. As much as Huaisang was prone to chaos, as much as he was reckless, he would never be a person Xichen would bank on to take such actions, primarily because he didn't have any idea what was at stake. At least not as much to oppose Jin Zongzhu so openly.
Xichen doubted Huaisang ever had such intentions. He was too small and was usually keen on being out of the limelight as much as possible. Even Jin Zongzhu wouldn't have expected that or overthought this interaction.
As gently as Xichen could put it...Huaisang was never considered the brightest light in a room. He was brilliant, don't get her wrong, she never shared the same opinion, but not brilliant enough to pick up these social cues as swiftly.
But before Huaisang could answer her himself, a voice called out behind her.
"Thank you, Huaisang. You can skip practice an hour early today."
The unmistakable voice of Nie Mingjue. When he was finally in her vision, there was no trace of his usual warmth and lit-up eyes; instead looking like the Nie Sect Heir that the world usually sees.
"But Da-ge, you promised I don't have to-" Huaisang's voice was a whine as he tugged on his brother's sleeve. But Mingjue simply gave him a hard stare with a muttered 'Scram' before Huasiang readily ran away, giving Xichen a small look.
"Did you send him?"
Their dynamic was all about not beating around the bush. Ever since they met, they have spoken their minds freely. So Xichen did, seeing Mingjue not uttering a single word, still staring at her with a hard look. So, it was his idea, then.
"Why?"
Xichen thought, panic slightly settling in. This was an open act of defiance if anyone figured out Mingjue had a part in Huaisang's spontaneity. And as much as Mingjue was also young, nobody would believe he was innocent in the matter. And if they do, the blame would fall on Nie Zongzhu.
Gods, this was a mess.
"I can't repeat to you all the time, Xichen. Say 'no' if you don't want to. Why do you let them walk all over you like that?!" His voice was slightly loud, so Xichen briefly thanked the stars that there were no traces of fellow humans nearby. Because Mingjue's voice being 'slightly loud' was the equivalent of her screaming.
"You know as well as I do why I couldn't. Don't pretend. That's why you sent Huaisang too without intervening yourself." Xichen argued back, her defense automatically rising with his tone.
"I didn't intervene because I knew you wouldn't let me. Not because of that repulsive human. You're a Sect Heir. If you want to be considered as such, challenge him as all others do!"
"I can't-"
"Aren't you the one always preaching about how you should be treated no less than any boy-heir? Why couldn't you follow your own principles? Why-"
"Because I still am a girl!!"
Her voice echoed with the outburst. For a minute, Mingjue stepped back, noting her eyes shining with unspilled tears and frustration, his own widening with concern. His arms almost reached out to her until he fisted them by his side.
"I should not be treated any less, but that doesn't change the fact that I am a girl. I am both. An heir and a girl. I cannot choose which one to be. I don't want to choose which one to be!"
She heaved a breath with the outburst while Mingjue stared at her with a frown on his face, eyes darting across her face, now back to their usual softness. That's when she felt the wetness on her cheeks. She was crying.
"Xichen-"
"I want to be alone." Xichen wiped the tears on the back of her palm. Weak. So weak. Where was the Lan heir known for her composure? If she can't bear this mild challenge, how is she going to conquer this arena?
She turned to leave, only to be swiftly pulled into an embrace. Not tight. So gentle that she could shove him away and walk free if needed. Mingjue's hand came up to cradle her by the shoulders, softly patting her back.
All in all, the gesture wasn't big, nor was it world-changing. But the tight decorum that Xichen held onto with an inch of her life snapped then. Her body broke into sobs as she shuffled closer to him, resting her forehead on his shoulder. His arm tightened at the action, still patting her back gently.
"Ah, I need to face that man again tomorrow. Why couldn't you just stay still?" Her voice was breaking, complaining for the sake of complaining when both of them knew that it was embarrassment and frustration that was breaking her at the moment. But still, Nie Mingjue muttered a small 'Sorry', continuing to pat her back.
She closed her eyes hard, just letting the tears fall and letting him hold her through it all. And Nie Mingjue remained still, even when they heard the gong ringing to symbolize the end of the tea ceremony, even when the chattering voices flowed in the courtyard. He remained still, in the shadows, holding her until she let go.