Chapter Text
Yunmeng is familiar yet not all at the same instance. It is familiar in the endless lakes, in the warm sun shining down on his back, in the ever-present smell of blooming lotuses. It is familiar in this incessant chatter, in the bowed roofs, in the feeling of home.
It is unfamiliar because the last time Wei Wuxian came to Yunmeng, the bowed, wooden roofs were replaced by grandeur of gold. The simpleness of Yunmeng that encompassed Wei Wuxian’s very being was replaced with splendour and opulence.
It was disconcerting to see Yunmeng as he remembered in memories long faded. Wei Wuxian’s soul ached—ah, this is what he sacrificed everything for.
This is home.
The contradiction is laughable. It is home and yet it isn’t.
He is at home in Yunmeng. This is the soil he was born on, the soil he grew up on and soil where he met his end. He is made of Yunmeng, his soul carved off the very being Yunmeng.
And yet—yet the feeling he once ignored and pushed to the back of his mind makes itself known at the very forefront.
He is of Yunmeng but Yunmeng is not his.
Yunmeng belongs to the Jiangs.
And Wei Wuxian is not a Jiang.
He never truly was.
He might be treated as such, sometimes, but he knows that he is not.
He bears the name Wei. No matter how well he is treated, the title of Head Disciple he bears, he will always be a Wei.
Once, he wanted to be a Jiang. To be loved and accepted and treated with the respect and decency that his martial siblings are treated with. He never minded being a servant. He never minded that he does not bear a heavy name or that his dead parents were not of noble roots.
He liked being a servant. Liked the freedom and choice he had as a servant. Liked that he did not have to wear a mask of fake pleasantry for the sake of family. He did not mind being a Wei.
But the truth remains this: Jiang Fengmian and Jiang Yanli considered him a Jiang. He was a Jiang in all but blood.
Once he overheard some sect elders talking amongst themselves. They had said that Wei Wuxian, despite being a Wei and not a Jiang, was the one who represented the values of Yunmeng Jiang the most.
They had mourned then; A Wei was more a Jiang than Fengmian’s own blood.
Then, it was an insult to his martial siblings, but now Wei Wuxian realises: they were mocking his mother. Doubting his heritage.
Then, Wei Wuxian felt pride bubble within him. These sect elders believed him worthy of being a Jiang. He had felt overjoyed that despite the mistreatment from their sect’s lady, the elders believed him to carry the Jiang legacy. He had taken it as acceptance.
How foolish.
Oh how foolish he was then.
He never wanted to be a Jiang. He only craved acceptance from a family that would never truly accept him. He craved acknowledgment from a sect who will never give him the respect he deserved.
That acknowledgement never came and with the whole lot of them killed and burned in Wen fires, there was no one left to give him that acceptance.
Being a Jiang, being treated as more than a servant, being da-shixiong, none of it mattered to Wei Wuxian then and it does not now.
Yunmeng Jiang thriving is the only thing that mattered to him. Still does.
He does not want to be a Jiang but he would be lying if he said he did not miss the feeling of purple cotton. It would be a lie to say he does not miss being Wei Wuxian of Yunmeng Jiang, a lie if he said he didn’t still want to be a part of it.
Because Yunmeng Jiang is all he had known. It had always been home and it always will be home even when no one is there to accept him as such.
And for his home, and for his shidis who all look at him with bright eyes, excitement bubbling as they hold their wooden swords, and for a family who he once considered his own, Wei Wuxian will willingly lay down his life. No matter how many times it may be, Wei Wuxian does not doubt that he will give everything of his to keep Yunmeng safe and away from the burned scars of the past.
These bowed wooden roofs, these lulling lakes, the cheery loudness of Yunmeng.
They are all Wei Wuxian. He does not need to belong to Yunmeng Jiang, nor wear the purple of his sect to belong here.
Because he is of Yunmeng and banished or not, he will remain of Yunmeng.
He belongs to Yunmeng and for the soil that nurtured him, the soil in his which he is home, he will do anything.
As they draw closer to Yunmeng, chatter tapers off. Without a word, the three of them come to a mutual agreement.
They take the longer path to avoid Lotus Pier. They stay as far as possible from the careful watch of the purple-wearing cultivators.
When they finally land on the edges of Yunping, it is already dark.
“We should go to the brothel now.” Nie Huaisang comments, dusting of his clothes. ”It is the perfect time.”
Wei Wuxian nods in agreement, immediately understanding what Nie Huaisang means.
It’s nightfall so the city is quiet. Perfect for avoiding anyone’s recognition.
“Lan Zhan,” he says, “You should book a room in the nearby inn while Huaisang and I get Meng Yao and his mother.”
Lan Wangji nods, stepping closer to Wei Wuxian. He reaches inside his sleeve, pulling out a black fabric. “Hide well.”
Wei Wuxian reaches for the fabric, but Lan Wangji moves swiftly behind him, gentle hands moving his ponytail. The fabric comes around his nose, hiding the lower half of his face.
“Let your hair down, Wei-xiong.” Nie Huaisang suggests, a part of him clearly enjoying the moment in front of him while another regrets agreeing to accompany the two.
Lan Wangji ties the fabric securely before gentle hands ease the ribbon holding Wei Wuxian’s ponytail.
Nie Huaisang pointedly keeps his eyes away, busying himself with his own mask, dusting his navy robes and checking his pouch for sufficient bribe.
“Keep the window open.” He mentions to Lan Wangji, before straightening his posture, prepared to play his part. “We might fly them in.”
Lan Wangji nods, “Be careful, Nie-xiong.”
Nie Huaisang freezes, eyes widening. Did Lan Wangji just call him Nie-xiong?
He coughs, does not splutter. He clears his throat, trying to push the shock down as he gives the stoic man a thin smile. “Thank you.”
Wei Wuxian watches gleefully, lips pressed together to stop a giggle from escaping. Nie Huaisang’s face was hilarious.
An awkward silence fell, courtesy of Nie Huaisang refusing to look at Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian trying to supress his laugh.
“Wei-xiong.” Nie Huaisang hisses. “What on earth was that?”
Wei Wuxian doubles over, ignoring the glare Nie Huaisang sent his way. “You should have seen your face, Nie-xiong. You looked terrified.”
Nie Huaisang shakes his head, fanning himself, “I was terrified. Lan Wangji never referred to me as anything other than Nie-er-gongzi. Suddenly he goes and calls me Nie-xiong?! It was a shock, I tell you.”
Wei Wuxian grins, hands behind his head as he walks leisurely behind Nie Huaisang. “Still, you looked as if you had seen a ghost.”
Nie Huaisang turns his head, sticking his tongue out and says, “What would you know? You have always been Wei Ying.”
“That I have.” Wei Wuxian agrees easily, “Now that I think about it…he had only once called me by my courtesy name—when we had butted heads during the war.”
“I never believed you were enemies.” Nie Huaisang admits, slowing his pace so he walks beside Wei Wuxian instead. “Even when you believed him to be your enemy, I never saw it as such.”
Wei Wuxian is silent for a moment, considering his words, “I…well, it would be a lie to say that during that time I hadn’t considered him as an enemy because I did. I considered everyone my enemy, even Jiang Cheng. That was the only way to buy more time.”
He pauses again, bringing his arms down, “But even then…I think if I wanted help, I would have turned to Lan Zhan. I think to some extent I did trust him even when I considered him an enemy.”
“As much as he disapproved of demonic cultivation, he never demonised me even when everyone else. At that time his disapproval felt like betrayal, and I suppose that’s where our relationship soured.”
“And despite it all, despite pushing him away, he was still the only one who remained by me. Through the thirteen years, through the whole mess of my resurrection, raising Lan Sizhui. Makes me wonder sometimes, what I’d had done differently if I knew the depth of his devotion before my demise.”
“If I may interject,” Nie Huaisang said quietly, snapping his fan shut, and looking at Wei Wuxian with a sombre expression. “Even if you had known before your death, nothing would have changed.”
Wei Wuxian meets his gaze, brows raised. Then he laughs, nodding in agreement. “I suppose you are right. Even if I had known before my death, I’d have pushed him away more than I already did.”
“Welcome!” The madame of the brothel greeted them with glee. “Kind masters, what brings you here today?”
“Madame.” Nie Huaisang greets, “I saw the most beautiful woman as I was passing earlier today morning. After inquiring, it seems as though she is employed under you. If it is possible, may I buy a night with her tonight?”
The madame rakes her eyes over his lithe form, forehead furrowed in concentration as he considers him. The navy robes, his fan and finally the crown holding his top knot.
Satisfied, she smiles wide, nodding enthusiastically, “Of course master!”
She led them to a private room, hidden behind lavish curtains. “I will gather all the whores and bring them in a moment, Master.” She looked behind her waving at two passing courtesans, “You two, serve these kind masters some good wine.”
Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian shared a disgruntled look. Despite their shared love for spring books, they had never felt the desire to engage in such debauchery and as such, they both shared a mutual sense of discomfort.
Nie Huaisang was good at acting and as the courtesan’s palms touched his chest with perverse intention, he was able to hide his discomfort well, smirking at the courtesan as he sipped from his cup of wine.
On the other hand, despite his expertise in flirting with numerous maidens, Wei Wuxian could not stifle the tenseness in his muscles when the other courtesan touches his shoulders.
Nie Huaisang levels him with a look. Wei Wuxian sighs and forcibly relaxes his shoulders, leaning against the arm rest of his chair and reaches for his cup of wine. Wei Wuxian may not be as excellent as Nie Huaisang, but he knows how to put up an act and that’s what he does, tugging his lips up in a teasing smile.
“Say,” he starts, feeling the hands on his shoulder pause for a moment before they resume. “What is your name?”
“This one is called A-Fen.”
“You are a pretty one, A-Fen.” Wei Wuxian grins, “Such a pretty face is rotting in a place like this. Say…A-Fen, what is your price?”
The hands on his shoulder pause again, jolting. He can feel the courtesan shudder. Wei Wuxian’s skin crawls. He wants those hands off.
“I…” A-Fen begins, voice shaking. “Master, I was sold as a slave to the Madame for 3 pieces of gold.”
Nie Huaisang meets his eyes again before he looks at the courtesan serving him. “And what about you?”
The courtesan, older than A-Fen—and more experienced too if her sultry smile were any indication—does not seem very affected by the question, hands continuing to massage Nie Huaisang’s shoulders. “This one is Xiuying, Master. I have a life contract with the Madame and cannot be bought.”
Nie Huaisang nods his head as if mourning, “Ah such a shame…”
Wei Wuxian reaches for his wine again, hiding his face as he calculates the possible price for Meng Shi.
If his assessment is correct, A-Fen is a fairly new and yet she would cost about five gold pieces to be bought. For Meng Shi, who was one of the most sought-after prostitutes from the brothel and whose experience and clients span decades, the prize would be ten times at least.
Thankfully, their act is cut short there as the Madame returns ushering twenty or so courtesans behind her. She bows in greeting, gesturing to the selection of women behind her.
“Master, please choose from amongst them.” She requests, motioning to the women. “They are the best we provide.”
Wei Wuxian glances up, posture straightening as his eyes scan the faces, trying to gauge a familiar face.
Ditto.
Behind two fluttering figures stood the woman, keeping herself out of their eyes without seeming as though she was hiding. Her complexion was pale, and her eyes were sunken. The signs of her sickness was evident despite her attempts to hide it behind elaborate hairdo and lavish clothing.
Nie Huaisang glanced at him before standing up, spine straightened in a posture that emitted arrogance.
“You.” He said, voice as cold as ice, pointing to Meng Shi. Panic flashed in her eyes before her mask fit over her face, a graceful smile hiding the tremble of her lips as she stepped forward. “Lead the way.”
Meng Shi bowed before she gestured for Nie Huaisang to follow her, careful steps leading him behind the heavy curtains.
Wei Wuxian chugged the rest of his wine, hiding his worry. The Madame regarded him with a worried glance, bowing.
“Master you have not chosen.”
“I do not wish to bed anyone.” Wei Wuxian replied haughtily. “A-Fen here is going a good job keeping me company, I will keep her.”
The Madame nodded, bowing as she led the rest of the women out.
Meng Shi reached to undo her robes and Nie Huaisang jumped, hand reaching to still Meng Shi’s as he glanced away.
“Master?” Meng Shi sounded confused.
“Please retie your robes. I am not here for a night.” Nie Huaisang requested, turning his back toward the woman.
Meng Shi, despite her evident confusion did as was asked. Once Nie Huaisang was sure that she had dressed herself, he turned back, trying to school his expression.
“In simplest way, I am here to buy your freedom.” Nie Huaisang puts bluntly, watching as the woman’s eyes brighten up.
“Master?” She asks softly, voice wavering, “Has Jin-zongzhu finally recognised my son? Has he sent you to fetch us?”
Nie Huaisang shakes his head, genuine regret flashing in his eyes at the crestfallen expression on her face.
“Then—”
“Madam, I am not affiliated with Lanling.” Nie Huaisang answers, “I cannot give much information; however, I promise on my name that I have no ill intent. You will be set free to do as you wish once I have bought you. If need be I will find you work and a place to settle.”
“But then—” Meng Shi starts before she realises that her act has no effect on Nie Huaisang and drops it. She continues, voice now strong and eyes glinting with suspicion, “I am not naïve enough to believe that an esteemed cultivator such as yourself will buy me my freedom without asking for something in return. So, master, I request you drop the act and tell me what you require of me.”
Nie Huaisang snaps his fan open, hiding his shock behind the accessory before he recovers and meets her eyes, equally serious.
“Your son’s father—I suppose you know it is Jin Guangshan, sect leader of Lanling Jin?” He asks. Once she nods in agreement, he continues, “I cannot disclose my identity, however my friend and I are roaming the Jianghu trying to find all his bastards.”
“And why would you be doing so?”
“Irrelevant.” Nie Huaisang shrugs, “I admit it is not from the kindness of our hearts, however I guarantee that you will be set free to do as you please once I have bought your freedom.”
“No master,” Meng Shi says, strict, “I want an explanation.”
“Madam.” Nie Huaisang sighs. He hadn’t expected Meng Shi to have such a clever head, had expected her to be too busy rejoicing her freedom to question anything. Well, he clearly was wrong. “I…if I were to say that it is due to a prophecy, would you take that?”
Meng Shi sat in contemplative silence for a while, hands gathered together as she thought. “I would believe you if you told me what the prophecy says.”
Nie Huaisang sighs. This woman…she was nowhere as naïve as he had expected—might even be as cunning as her son.
“Well,” Nie Huaisang starts, “The prophecy tells of a war that is soon to break. A war that will eventually lead to your son’s demise.”
Meng Shi startles. Nie Huaisang continues.
“You are sick, Madam.” He says, snapping his fan shut, “Sicker than you are showing. If you carry on like this, soon you will be at death’s door.”
Meng Shi remains quiet as Nie Huaisang pauses. When there is no response, he continues.
“Your son’s father is a rotten man and Lanling is a viper’s nest, crueller than what you can imagine.” He meets Meng Shi’s eyes, “When you die, your son will have nowhere to go, especially not Lanling when he is a bastard son of a lecherous man.”
“But he…” Meng Shi stutters, “He promised.”
“Naïve hope will get you nowhere Madam. That lecherous man will never accept your son as his. Only humiliation awaits at Lanling’s gate.”
“He left me a pearl!” Meng Shi shakes her head, “He may have forgotten me, but if he were to see—”
“That pearl is fake.” Nie Huaisang reveals, “Your son will lose all his dignity if he were to climb the stairs of Lanling, hoping for a father with a replica pearl as proof.”
“Madam, I understand your hesitation,” Nie Huaisang carries on, “However, I assure you that I am not here with any ulterior motives. I promise to set you free once I have bought your contract from the Madame.”
“But—”
“I will allow your son to learn cultivation.” Nie Huaisang bargains, “I ensure you that I will treat your illness and give you and your son a place to live and a job. All I request is that you agree to come with me and play along.”
“Let’s sign a contract.” Meng Shi says suddenly, getting up without waiting for a response and coming back with some paper and ink. “As you have emphasised so far, word of mouth holds no value. So, let’s have written evidence of the things you have promised.”
Nie Huaisang hesitates for a moment before nodding. Small sacrifices, he supposes. “As you wish, Madam.”
Nie Huaisang is good at acting, Wei Wuxian will give him that. He watches with amusement as Nie Huaisang stumbles down the stairs with unsteady steps, face an unnatural pink that is certainly not from being intoxicated.
He doesn’t bother looking around, going straight to the Madame near the entrance of the brothel. Only when Wei Wuxian is certain that Nie Huaisang has engaged the Madame in a bargain, does he stand, offering a smile to A-Fen and handing her two gold coins before he makes his way over to the other male.
“A-Sang, what is all this chaos?” He asks, frowning. The madame doesn’t even let Huaisang open his mouth as she jumps in to explain.
“Master, this master here is being unreasonable.” She cries, “He is trying to buy my most profitable slave!”
“Oh? Why is that A-Sang?”
“Xiongzhang!” Nie Huaisang slurs, “I have fallen in love. I have met a Goddess and I have fallen in love with her.”
Wei Wuxian tuts, turning to the Madame. “You have heard him. My brother has fallen in love.”
“She is a prostitute! A noble man such as you should not bring home whores who have spread their legs to god-knows-how-many!” The Madame shouts, frantically shaking her head. “Masters, I cannot let her go, please understand.”
“Fifty gold.” Nie Huaisang butts in. “I will buy her for 50 gold.”
“Master—” The Madame falters. Fifty gold pieces is a huge offer after all. She thinks for a while, before coming to a conclusion. Looking at the glint in her eye, Wei Wuxian knows its about to cost them a lot more money.
“I earn over fifty gold with her, Master. That is a cheap offer.” A lie. With Meng Shi’s current health, it would be a surprise if she earned anywhere near even fifteen gold.
“What do you suggest then?” Wei Wuxian asks, glaring at her. “My little brother has fallen in love, and we are paying you a hefty amount for the slave contract.”
“Hundred gold, masters. Hundred gold and I will sell her.”
Wei Wuxian glares at her and by the jolt in her shoulders, Wei Wuxian is certain that he had managed to intimidate her. “Seventy-five gold.” His stare dares her to counter.
She shakes like a leaf, trying to come up with something but Wei Wuxian stops her before any of her excuses are let out. “Seventy-five gold pieces and I will pay 5 gold pieces for the maiden who was serving me.”
The Madame thinks for a moment before relenting. After all, getting rid of a sick whore for 75 gold coins was nothing but a huge profit.
“As you wish, Masters.”