Chapter Text
Nie Huaisang’s life, as all life does, begins with death.
The younger Nie doesn't even see it coming. A long slash on his jugular to silence his screams before words could even escape. And all at once his floor is painted red.
He gasps as he tries desperately to breathe. The wound on his neck making him feel as if he was choking rather than his blood freely pouring out of him but even with his arm supporting his neck, still his blood gushes and he continues to struggle. Pressing his hands to try and control the bleeding, to no avail, a steady stream of red flows.
Nie Huaisang would laugh if he could. It seems that all Nie’s are destined to die brutal deaths, Nie Huaisang not being the exception.
He couldn't even relish in the fact that he'd be together with his brother, still having feelings of unease that his brother was not yet at peace. Yet he had seen the rise of the Nie Sect after, Jin Guangyao's crimes had come to light. He had seen how his current moniker of head shaker had held a different meaning in the eyes of his people. The rumors of him not interfering, being associated to one of cold-blooded indifference under the mask of a fool. Now Nie sect was equally feared among the cultivation world as sect leaders alike began to retrace their steps and recall if they said anything incriminating in front of the sect leader whom they all assumed was still a child.
It was almost funny how when he'd finally play all his cards, that was when people chose to kill him. Just like Jin Guangyao.
Under the haze of his demise, Nie Huaisang, holding a pen and not a saber, could only laugh at his unremarkable death.
He laid on the floor and closed his eyes, oblivious to the sinister energy that clings to him as he sleeps. The small pieces of stygian iron turning into fine dust and disintegrating into Nie Huaisang's pool of blood.
As quickly as his life escaped him and his eyelids came to a close, he could feel his eyelids once more opening. Instead of the black expanse of what an extinguished spirit was supposed to see, bright light and tiny hands covered in blood was what he saw. They were his own hands. Question of rebirth quickly entered his mind and wondered if it was possible.
His thought however was interrupted as soon as the face of an old woman assaulted his eyes. Her brows were furrowed deeply and stared disapprovingly at him. Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but stare disapprovingly at the women in front of her as well. It had been a long time since anyone had dared to look at him with such disdain. Nie Huaisang frowned back.
"What an ugly child." she remarked, while slapping Nie Huaisang's bottom. When Nie Huaisang felt the sting that came after the slap, he wanted to curse but found that words escaped him. Undeveloped vocal cords, he surmised.
"Is this one retarded as well, this simply wont do," the woman slapped his butt cheeks even harder this time. And Nie Huaisang had just about enough.
He cried, loud and unashamed. He was going to make this lady's life miserable for slapping his butt.