Work Text:
“You turned it into a pair of earrings.”
Nie Huaisang hummed in assent, sitting in front of the large bronze mirror, combing his hair in large, sweeping strokes. Behind him, his husband was putting his robes on, hair still loose, well-practiced hands instinctively tightening sashes and tying pouches on his side.
“Not just earrings. The stone has surprisingly a lot of emeralds that can be used. I couldn’t wait until we got to Yunmeng to have it done, so I asked Yao-ge to accompany me to the town to have the jewelry made. Somehow, he knew the most reputable jeweler in Lanling, and we had tea with the man while talking about possible designs.” Of course, with Meng Yao, now Jin Guangyao, accompanying him, it came with the promise of becoming the utmost priority, and the assurance that his order would be done and delivered as soon as possible. Lanling Jin was, after all, the wealthiest sect in the cultivation world, and with that came a certain level of prestige and privilege.
(And of course, no jeweler will refuse to give service to the Young Madame of Yunmeng Jiang, knowing how much it could positively affect their business.)
As expected, the packages were delivered early this morning by a servant, just after two days of their discussion with the jeweler.
Money certainly talked a lot.
Just as well, since this will be the last day of the Discussion Conference in Lanling, and possibly the day most of the Sects looked forward to the most.
It was the sword fighting tournament today, and at the very end of that competition, there would be a “exhibition” match of sorts, a free-for-all, last-man standing battle between all the Sect Leaders in the cultivation world. After the Sunshot Campaign, the discovery of Jin Guangshan’s ambitions and crimes had led to his subsequent dethronement and exile from the cultivation world. Now, most the Sect Leaders now are young and of the newer generation, and it was a good way to determine the strength of the new Sect Leaders and how each Sect is faring after the war.
(It was also a way to determine if the Great Four Sects — Four now, after the eradication of Qishan Wen, as the remaining Wens under Wen Qing’s care have integrated themselves in Qinghe Nie — were still as great as claimed, and this was a great opportunity for a smaller Sect to claim that title from them.)
Nie Huaisang has no doubt that his husband will lose. As powerful as Jiang Cheng was and even with his stronger cultivation base, he was still the fifth ranked cultivator in their generation. He was going to square up against his brother, Lan Xichen and Jin Zixuan, who was a beast, the first, and the third ranked of their generation respectively.
But even if Jiang Cheng would lose against the other Sect Leaders, the demonstration of his power would solidify their position as a Great Sect, since his husband alone was better and more talented than the rest of the smaller Sects combined.
But that was for later. For now, Nie Huaisang’s concern was to look his best in his outside robes, as he will be sitting along with the other wives during the matches. There would still be a closing banquet in the evening of course, which would necessitate every bit of finery he brought with him, but there was no harm in starting now. This was one of the last activities for the Discussion Conference, after all.
“Do you like them? I think they’re rather well made.” Contrary to expectations, the earrings were rather humble in design, just slim, long rectangles of pure emerald dangling from gold chains string together so thinly it seemed the gem would snap off when left hanging. But the gold chains was deceptively strong, and it held well when Nie Huaisang put them on.
He tilted his head, watching the earrings sway gently at the movement. It was heavier than some of the earrings he wore, but it looked delicately elegant, framing his features well.
“Mn. If you like it and it fits, then it’s fine.” His husband sounded like he clearly could not care less, and Nie Huaisang laughed.
“Xiang gong, you should really look and listen when your wife is talking to you about his concerns. What if these earrings don’t fit me and I lose face in front of the other wives? You would have me embarrassed in front of the other Sects?” He teased lightly.
Jiang Cheng’s answer was a snort, as if disbelieving the notion that Nie Huaisang would ever allow himself to lose face in front of other people.
(Well… that was true, but also rude! His husband did not have to call him out so openly like that!)
“I know nothing about trinkets. That has always been your area of expertise.” With a final tightened sash, Jiang Cheng approached him, almost completely dressed, his hair still unbound and unbraided. He gave a cursory glance at Nie Huaisang’s reflection in the mirror, then met his eyes.
“Besides, you look beautiful in whatever you wear, so I don’t see the point in looking.”
Nie Huaisang colored red immediately, reaching backwards in an attempt to swat at his husband. “Wanyin-xiong!” Saying such things with a straight face! So brazen! Even if it was within the confines of their personal quarters, it did terrible things to Nie Huaisang’s heart!
Jiang Cheng just shrugged, accepting the hit. “I’m just telling the truth. So?” He leaned over Nie Huaisang’s shoulder, looking at the sparkling objects on Nie Huaisang’s table. “Apart from the earrings, what else did you make with the rock?”
For all Jiang Cheng acted like he didn’t care, he still listened to him. That realization made Nie Huaisang feel more flustered than ever before.
“The rock yielded enough gems to make a complete gold and silver set of jewelry. Which reminds me! Wanyin-xiong, sit here. I’ll do your hair.” Nie Huaisang stood up, completely finished with his preparations for the morning.
Jiang Cheng sat without a word, and Nie Huaisang went to work, coating his hands with oils and perfume, running his fingers through his husband’s long, dark hair, gently massaging it into his scalp. He heard Jiang Cheng sigh minutely as he worked on small tangles as they appeared, using a comb to keep everything neat and tidy.
He loved running his hands through his husband’s hair. Unbeknownst to everyone else, Jiang Cheng’s hair was soft and thick, a perfect combination that allowed him to play with it during those rare moments where they could just sit in Nie Huaisang’s pavilion, talking about anything and everything under the sun. Sometimes, they do not even need to talk, just sitting quietly and enjoying each other’s presence, with the star-filled sky above them, and the still lakewaters below.
(With Jiang Cheng’s head in his lap, his hair unbound and scattered on top of Nie Huaisang’s thighs. With Nie Huaisang listening intently as Jiang Cheng sang a song, his low, deep voice reverberating around them, as his fingers soothingly ran through his husband’s hair.)
“... Xiang gong, I have a request.” Nie Huaisang murmured, as he carefully partitioned Jiang Cheng’s bangs from the rest of his hair, moving to the sides to work on the small side braids.
Jiang Cheng didn’t look at him, couldn’t, lest he ruined Nie Huaisang’s hard work. The multiple instances of a fan hitting him in the shoulders when he tried could attest to that. “...What is it?”
Nie Huaisang reached for something on the table, showing it to his husband. It’s a headpiece shaped to look like the half of a lotus flower. The edges and its pin were made up of silver, but the petals themselves were inlaid with large cuts of emerald. It was beautiful, certainly more for show than practical use, but Nie Huaisang had designed the silver and emerald jewelry set with his husband in mind.
“Wear this for the day, please? For me?”
Jiang Cheng was not the one for lavish and luxurious items, most of the time not wearing any save for his Sandu and Zidian. Zidian was a spiritual weapon, so it didn’t count, and if he did wear any jewelry, it was simple, cheap, and used for their intended purposes. In their youth, his husband wore much more precious jewelry, but the fall of Lotus Pier quickly put a stop to that, and the Sunshot Campaign had effectively changed his entire stance on wearing them for everyday use.
(“I don’t need to wear pretty things if I’m just going to fight,” Jiang Cheng had said to him, during the war, “and the only time I’ll wear something like that is if it can help me win a battle.”)
But Jiang Cheng was the Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang now, and the cultivation world was at a tentative peace. He needed to look his station, and Nie Huaisang’s husband will not lose if the competition was propriety and formal clothing.
Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, seeing the elaborate hair decoration, but acquesized with a put-upon exhale. “... Fine. As long as it does its job and doesn’t bother me.”
Nie Huaisang smiled, then showed the back, where there was a space behind the headpiece… just big enough to hide a folded piece of paper, or a talisman, if one was so inclined. Even the hairpin that accompanied the piece doesn’t look typical, longer and thicker at a few cùn at the top, inlaid with small emeralds… which could double as a handle.
“The hairpin can be charged with spiritual energy,” Nie Huaisang smiles sweetly, closing his hand around it for a moment, and the hairpin glowed faintly, an edge seemingly becoming sharper, though no physical change was visible.
“It can work as a dagger in a pinch, if you find yourself in a situation where you don’t have Zidian or Sandu but you still have your spiritual energy. But the weapons maker said it can drain your spiritual energy fairly quickly, so use it sparingly.”
Jiang Cheng started at it for a moment in surprise, then up at Nie Huaisang, completely silent.
“Does this headpiece fit your standards now, xiang gong?” Nie Huaisang asked with a teasing smile.
“Hmph.” Jiang Cheng quickly looks away. “Impudent.” But Jiang Cheng reached out and pulled him down into a quick kiss, gratitude unsaid, but keenly felt.
(The way to a man’s heart is through gifting him new weapons disguised as simple accessories.
Let it be said that Nie Huaisang takes his husband’s safety very seriously.)
Nie Huaisang smiled against his husband’s lips, still laughing, and pulled back, finishing his husband’s hair without another word. The hair was folded, tied up into a bun, and pushed through the headpiece, with the hairpin keeping it in place. A few brushes to his husband’s bangs, and Nie Huaisang pulled back, satisfied with the results as Jiang Cheng finally stood up.
Silver, black and violet were very much his husband’s colors. The new headpiece did not look out of place in his husband’s hair, but it lent a certain amount of gravitas to his young features, displaying his Sect’s comparative wealth and power.
It fit him well. And it also perfectly complemented Nie Huaisang’s chosen outfit that day.
He had decided to wear his hair without a headpiece, still in a partial bun, but held up by a large hairpin made out of gold and small emerald stones that were shaped to resemble a cluster of lotus flowers, pressed against the side of his head. Every time he turned his head, the gems would sparkle and catch the light, becoming a head-turning display.
His neck was bare, so the attention solely remained on his face and his hair. Apart from the hairpin and the earrings, he also wore a gold ring with an emerald gem on his finger, and a gold bangle encrusted with small emeralds on his wrist, a fitting tribute to his Qinghe Nie heritage.
However, his robes were the dark purples and light violets of his Yunmeng Jiang Sect, with stitches of gold embroidery at the hems and edges of his sleeves, tying his entire look together. Even his fan would be in Jiang Sect colors, the lacquered guards, sticks and ribs painted a deep black, while the leaf would be a soft lilac with a black and gray pavilion that he drew on himself. The silver bell on his sash was the only item that was out of place, but even then it served as a beautiful contrast to the rest of his clothes, bringing more attention to it, and the Sect his bell represented.
It was a rather simple get-up compared to what other Sect wives could wear. But it displayed both humility and pride, qualities that a top Sect should embody, a model example of what a Sect Leader and his wife should look like in public.
Nie Huaisang glanced at the incense burner at the table. If they didn’t leave right now, they would be late. He checked through his husband one last time, making sure he had everything he needed for the sword tournament and the ensuing Sect Leader fight afterwards.
“Wanyin-xiong, you’ll be careful, won’t you?” Nie Huaisang asked with worry, smoothing down the front of his husband’s robes one last time before looking at him. “I know you want to win, but you’ll be going up against da-ge and Xichen-ge. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
Jiang Cheng’s arms went around him, keeping him in place. “Huaisang, if a Sect Leader can’t fight another person inside an arena like they’re going to kill them, then they have no chance to live in the battlefield.” Jiang Cheng said with uncharacteristic patience. “I’m very sure your brother will be attacking me with the intention to kill. I’ll be fine.”
It was clear that he had no plans to hold back when it happened. To do so would be discourteous and insulting to the rest of the competitors in the arena. Logically, it made sense, but damn it all, couldn’t they settle who was the best among them through talks and alcohol, like most men would?!
Nie Huaisang sighed in resignation, leaning forward and pressing his forehead to his husband’s shoulder. He felt his husband’s large hands on his back, a warm, constant, comforting presence. “It just makes me worry that da-ge would target you first. Just… please, A-Cheng, don’t be reckless? I’d like my husband back in Lotus Pier in one piece.” He muttered. “And I refuse to be the one to teach your disciples, I don’t know anything about the Yunmeng Jiang Sect style.”
Jiang Cheng let out a short laugh, felt the vibrations from his husband’s torso against his cheek. A brief squeeze, and Jiang Cheng pulled back, only to use the tips of his fingers to tilt Nie Huaisang’s face up.
His eyes met light grey, warm but with a steel resolve.
This was a man who was willing to fight for him and his Sect.
“I won’t back down from a fight. This is a chance for the other Sects to see how far we have gotten. Our Sect will not be weak today.”
Jiang Cheng’s fingers — always so rough, but oh so careful — reached out to tuck a wayward strand of Nie Huaisang’s hair to the back of his ear. Any more pleas for caution Nie Huaisang had instantly died.
“I’ll show your brother that you didn’t marry a coward, that I deserve to be your husband, not just in name, but in action as well.”
Nie Huaisang’s breath stuttered, his chest lurching as heat flared on his skin. He couldn’t look away if he tried, being face to face with such strong will.
“Besides,” Jiang Cheng continued lightly, thumb and forefinger idly playing with the tips of Nie Huaisang’s hair. “Yunmeng Jiang has always attempted the impossible. Fighting and winning against multiple Sect Leaders all at the same time is right up our Sect’s alley.”
Nie Huaisang spluttered, his tender feelings towards his husband disappearing in an instant.
“‘Attempting the impossible’ does not mean courting certain injury against a family member, Jiang Wanyin!” Nie Huaisang smacked his closed fan against Jiang Cheng’s chest. “You’re impossible! Fine, get yourself cut up for all I care!”
Jiang Cheng’s lips curled up in an infuriatingly handsome smirk. “Maybe I will. I do have a wife that will nurse me back to perfect health afterwards.”
Nie Huaisang cheeks felt so hot he dimly wondered if it would be enough to cook an egg over it. “You—!”
A knock on the door stopped their conversation, and Jiang Cheng instantly straightened up, with one arm still around Nie Huaisang’s waist.
“Enter!”
It was Nie Lihuan, who barely batted an eyelash at the sight of his young master’s and the Sect Leader’s close proximity. He saluted in greeting and deference.
“Sect Leader Jiang, Young Madame Nie, the preparations are finished. The disciples are waiting for Sect Leader Jiang’s arrival, and the horses are ready to take you both to the grounds.”
“Thank you, Lihuan. We’ll be right out.” Nie Huaisang said, finally stepping away from his husband, as his attendant gave one more bow and left the room. Nie Huaisang was about to follow his attendant, when the soft clink of metal caught his attention.
Jiang Cheng had removed Sandu from his side and had pulled Zidian away from his finger, sheathed and unsealed. Then, he offered both weapons to Nie Huaisang with his hand, letting their weight fall almost carelessly on his open palm.
“Huaisang. Here.”
“What…?” Nie Huaisang stared at his husband’s weapons in a moment of utter confusion, before it clicked in his mind.
Oh.
As a part of this new peace the jiang hu is experiencing, some of the smaller Sects had suggested a new tradition as a way to symbolically show that all of the Sects are committed to keeping this concord with each other in the years to come.
When a Sect Leader and their disciples parade through the fighting grounds, they would not have any weapons on their side, as a way to show that they were willing to give up their arms and trust the other Sects’ sincere desire for harmony and cooperation.
Their weapons would be held by a family member waiting for them at the watching area, most often a cultivation partner, but a son, daughter, parent or someone close to them would do. It would stay with that family member all throughout the tournament, and would only be given after all of the matches were completed or when the Sect Leader themselves would need to stand up and fight for their Sect’s pride and honor.
In theory, it was good practice, and the cultivation world did love their ceremonies and rituals. The tradition had started at the first Discussion Conference immediately after the Sunshot Campaign, during his own brother’s wedding.
And no one raised a sword as healer Wen Qing of Qishan married Sect Leader Nie Mingjue Of Qinghe.
After that momentous occasion, it had continued since, and now they were going to follow it as well.
Nie Huaisang nodded, carefully taking Sandu from his husband’s hand with his left and tying it to his side. He reached out for Zidian, but Jiang Cheng quickly closed his hand before Nie Huaisang could touch it, raising an eyebrow at him. Pink slowly crept up Nie Huaisang’s cheeks, and he gave a look of exasperation at his husband.
“Wanyin-xiong, really? Do we have to?”
“Come on, Huaisang. You know how this goes by now. Give me your hand.”
Keeping Sandu by his side was easy. But somehow, the thought of keeping Zidian on him managed to greatly fluster Nie Huaisang for reasons he couldn’t understand.
With a sigh and a warm face, he raised his right hand, fingers completely bare. Jiang Cheng took his hand and, as Nie Huaisang’s heart pounded loudly against his ears, his pulse racing under Jiang Cheng’s fingertips, his husband slowly, softly, slid Zidian onto his forefinger.
His husband’s hands were larger than his own, and yet the purple-colored ring was nestled against his knuckle like it was meant to be there all along. It was silent and heavy against his skin, a strong presence contrasting with its pretty countenance that strongly reminded Nie Huaisang of its past and current owner. The sheer restrained power it held felt almost overwhelming. Zidian was truly a formidable spiritual weapon in its own right.
It made Nie Huaisang feel safe, as if his husband was always there to protect him, even if not in a physical way.
Nie Huaisang closed his hand, capturing his husband’s own in the process.
And it might be just his imagination, but he could feel Zidian’s warmth spread through his hand.
“I’ll take care of them, Wanyin-xiong.” He promised, aware of the weight he now carried, heavier than ever before. For cultivators, their weapons were their lives, linked so closely with their souls and their cores that destroying one or the other will render their weapons useless, worthless.
Without it, they would be nothing. Right now, Nie Huaisang knew with certainty that match was something Jiang Cheng needed to do. This was his resolution as a man.
And he had his husband’s life in his very hands.
Nie Huaisang was doing his husband a disservice by fretting and nagging at him.
It was his duty as Jiang Wanyin’s wife to worry, but also to believe. To trust in his partner, his other half.
To watch his back from behind the battlelines, wait with conviction, and have faith he would return.
So Nie Huaisang took a slow, deep breath, and closed his eyes.
“Xiang gong.”
“Hm?”
Despite their physical distance, Nie Huaisang’s hand still held his husband’s, and gave it a firm squeeze, eyes opening to meet Jiang Cheng’s gaze, as calm and as resolute as his husband’s.
“I’ll be here when you come back.”
For the briefest moment, Jiang Cheng looked stunned. But a smile slowly appeared on his husband’s lips, who raised their joined hands to press a kiss on top of the knuckle where Zidian was resting, a silent promise.
“Mark your words, niang zi.”
The sun was unforgiving as it blazed down on his small retinue of attendants and servants, and Nie Huaisang wasn’t to the point of being a completely spoiled wife to have an umbrella placed over his head and following after him as he rode sedately towards the fighting grounds.
(He wanted one so badly though, never mind that his da-ge would kill him for acting like a coddled concubine. The Qinghe Nie way was always the hard way, and for all that Nie Huaisang whined and complained about his family’s cultivation method, he saw the wisdom in it, and he refused, on principle, to be that kind of wife and Sect Madame.)
So he rode under the sun with as much dignity and poise as he could muster under the swelteringly hot weather, thankful that his robes were of the lighter silks that the Yunmeng people favored. He wasn’t the last of the wives to arrive at the raised platform where they would watch the parade and the subsequent sword fighting tournament, but he certainly was not the first, with Jiang Yanli and several Sect wives already in their seats, wearing their husband’s or Sect’s respective colors. There was also an increase of visible weapons as well, swords and daggers hanging on people’s hips, bows and arrows being carried on the back or a pair of arms.
Nie Huaisang unconsciously touched Zidian on his finger and Sandu on his side. Their presence by his side, while heavy, was a comfort.
Food and drink were already being served in excess, with polite conversations happening in smaller groups. The platform was under a shade, thank the heavens, and Nie Huaisang instantly accepted the cup of cold tea that was offered to him, his attendants taking their places under and at the edges of the platform.
“Difu! Come sit beside me,” Jiang Yanli said warmly, gesturing to her left, and Nie Huaisang smiled, following her words and exchanging pleasantries. Jin Ling was on a crib in front of her, wide awake and gurgling, sucking on a sealed Suihua, gums gnawing at the top of an ornate white and gold hilt.
Jiang Yanli was a very hands-on mother, refusing to leave her son in the care of her maids. So Jin Ling went along whenever she needed to go somewhere, demonstrating Lanling Jin’s immense wealth that they were able to accommodate the whims of their Sect Leader’s wife and heir. That the baby did not get sick after so many excursions just showed the babe’s strong constitution, further proving how much he took after his sire.
Nie Huaisang took a moment to pinch his nephew’s small fist.
Jin Ling blinked at him. At least he didn’t cry.
“How is A-Cheng?” Jiang Yanli asked once Nie Huaisang has settled in his seat and had opened his fan to wave the heat away. “Did he seem nervous about today’s exhibition match?”
“He’s all right. He’s very determined to win against your husband and all who would participate.” Nie Huaisang said with a smile, sighing at the cool wind his fan created. “Apparently, it’s a perfect way to settle grudges and assert his dominance in the cultivation world.” He shook his head. “Why they cannot just talk it out, I haven’t the faintest reason why.”
Jiang Yanli had a sympathetic smile as she patted his arm in comfort. “Cultivators will always be cultivators, I suppose.” They shared a look of mutual kinship, and talked about lighter topics, occasionally occupying Jin Ling’s attention with Suihua so he wouldn’t cry.
Soon enough, Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian also arrived, Wen Qing in the forest green and warm golds of Qinghe Nie, Baxia hanging from her back, while Wei Wuxian was the only wife who did not wear his husband’s Sect colors. He was in his usual black-red-and-gray ensemble, hair loose, but tied on his wrist was a white, cloud-patterned ribbon, a large, clothed, rectangular object was strapped to his back, and a pure white and ice-blue blade tied on his side that could only belong to Lan Wangji.
Interesting. Why would Lan Wangi’s weapons be on Wei Wuxian when Lan Xichen was supposed to be fighting for Gusu Lan?
Nie Huaisang did not have the time to pursue that thought further when Wen Qing finally arrived with her attendants. He watched with great interest as Wen Qing entered the shaded platform with an umbrella over her head, which was definitely surprising by Qinghe Nie Sect standards. He observed as Wen Qing physically ordered the Qinghe Nie Sect members away by pointing her finger and telling them to go to their rightful places. His sister-in-law did not look very happy right now, touching her abdomen lightly as she approached them, taking visibly deep breaths.
“I take it that my da-ge has found out?” Nie Huaisang asked delicately once she sat beside him and snatched a mantou from a passing servant, viciously tearing into it with spite.
“Your brother is a knucklehead.” Wen Qing informed Nie Huaisang shortly. “I never should have married him.”
Somehow, Nie Huaisang had the strong urge to agree with her and to defend his older brother’s honor at the same time. “What happened?”
“I felt bilious during dinner last night and had to retire earlier. Your brother entered my room while I was getting acquainted with the chamber pot. I had no choice but to tell him.”
“Oh, trust me, that’s not the only thing that’s happened, Nie-xiong!” Wei Wuxian informed them cheerfully, explaining that Gusu Lan’s sleeping quarters were the nearest to the Qinghe Nie delegation and he had a front seat to everything that happened the night before.
Despite Wen Qing’s cold look of warning, Wei Wuxian happily proceeded to tell them all the sordid details.
Nie Mingjue, apparently after seeing his wife in such a state, was getting ready to drag her to the healers like a heathen because, “No wife of mine would die under my watch!” Wen Qing snapped back, flustered, telling him that she was fine and if he could leave now, because she really wanted to rest.
However, it was at that moment Nie Mingjue became suspicious and demanded that she saw another healer in Lanling Jin to make sure, Wen Qing refused, and they started arguing in a way that could almost double as physical displays of affection if one really, honestly thought about it.
(It was one of those few times that Nie Huaisang wished that their rooms were closer to his brother’s. Hearing that argument would have been one of the most entertaining things he would have the pleasure to experience.)
In the end, Wen Qing became so fed up and upset and just screamed, “It’s because I’m carrying your child you reckless, idiotic man, now get out of my room and let me rest!” and physically shoved her husband out her quarters and slammed the door on his face. The sudden news had shocked Nie Mingjue so thoroughly that, according to the witnesses of the scene, he stayed completely still for several minutes, staring at the door with the blankest face anyone had seen on him.
Then he snapped out of it, wrenched the door open, almost tearing it off its hinges, and entered Wen Qing’s quarters with a shout of her name. Wei Wuxian didn’t know anything further from this point, and the nearby disciples didn’t hear anything more from her quarters (damn silencing talismans!), but it was of important note that Nie Mingjue did not return to his assigned chambers that night.
Wen Qing refused to elaborate further after the man finished, snippily telling Wei Wuxian that, “Whatever my husband and I talked about is frankly none of your business.” Wei Wuxian pouted at that, giving up, but seeing Wen Qing’s small but visible smile when everybody had turned to other topics, told Nie Huaisang that, whatever she and his brother talked about, it was definitely something good.
(Nie Huaisang briefly wondered how this would affect his brother’s ability to fight. Honestly, it could go either way, but if there was something for certain, it was that the Qinghe Nie Sect Leader would be quite vicious today.
He could only pray his husband would be able to get out alive in one piece.)
Soon enough, the hour to start had arrived, and the Lanling servants had started giving out fresh flowers to those who were watching, as the sounds of drums and gongs and whinnying horses were heard.
The parade of the Sects was a colorful and loud, and somewhat flirtatious spectacle. Everyone arrived in their best fighting robes, the disciples marching proudly in straight lines behind their Sect Leaders, who were on top of their own horses. The people watching at the sides were squealing and tittering, particularly the ladies, who somehow managed to muster the courage to confess their feelings to the person they liked in a roundabout way.
The flowers started falling down as each Sect was announced, and this was the only time the disciples who were a part of the parade were allowed to catch the flower of the person they fancied, if it was thrown in the first place. Nie Huaisang politely clapped as the Sects were displayed, but his flowers, as well as the other wives, were preserved for their husbands and their respective Sects.
(Hopefully. The scandal that would cause would be troublesome, but delicious, all the same.)
The first of the Four Great Sects to arrive was Qinghe Nie, and Nie Huaisang stood up, cheering for his brother and his disciples as they went around the training grounds. His brother looked… well, even in a good mood. Nie Huaisang sent a flower his brother’s way, and looked to the side just in time to see Wen Qing’s hand pull back, a big and small flower stem already on their way to the Qinghe Nie Sect Leader.
The three offers reached his brother’s hands and Nie Mingjue looked up at their direction. Nie Huaisang waved enthusiastically.
“Da-ge, good luck!” He called out as the Qinghe Nie group passed under them, and he thought he saw his brother snort. Then Nie Mingjue’s eyes slid to the person beside him, and Nie Huaisang had to place his fan in front of his mouth to stop himself from giggling.
Wen Qing was definitely not looking at her husband’s face, but her cheeks were dark red, a hand resting on top of her stomach. Nie Mingjue saw the action, and to Nie Huaisang’s shock, bowed his head to his wife and brought the flowers to his chest, tucking them into the lapel of his robes before looking forward again.
Nie Mingjue had never accepted anyone’s flowers, not even Nie Huaisang’s, for as long as he could remember, going to these parades.
Had his brother, dare he say it, become softer at the knowledge that he would become a father soon?
It was a good direction for him, Nie Huaisang decided, sitting down as Qinghe Nie took their places at the training grounds. He really should thank Wen Qing for changing his brother for the better.
Gusu Lan was next, and Wei Wuxian jumped out of his seat and waved from the edge of the platform so hard and quick Nie Huaisang half-expected him to jump out of the platform to meet them on the ground. Thank the heavens Lan Qiren was back at Gusu managing the Cloud Recesses, or else he would have coughed up blood, watching his in-law’s shameless display. Nie Huaisang clapped harder as they passed by, because his brother’s sworn brother was there, and Lan Xichen had been very good to him.
The Twin Jades were truly a sight to behold in their white and blue robes, peerless in their beauty and their skills in cultivation. One had to wonder how someone like Wei Wuxian was able to snag someone like Lan Wangji for a husband, but then again, Wei Wuxian too had gathered a name and a reputation for himself.
“Lan Zhan! Zewu-jun! I’ll be cheering for you!” Wei Wuxian shouted, his voice louder and carrying more than anyone else cheering for the Gusu Lan Sect. The flowers rained down, much more and harder than before, but Gusu Lan continued their parade, faces calm and serene. Lan Xichen appeared to laugh at his brother-in-law’s words, accepting the flower Wei Wuxian threw with calm grace, while Lan Wangji looked as immovable as ever, only raising and opening his hand when he saw a blue-colored gentian float down gently towards him.
That wasn’t one of the flowers that the Lanling servants gave, and Nie Huaisang glanced at Wei Wuxian, who was still loudly and cheering for his husband’s Sect. Did Wei Wuxian just bring a different flower to give to his husband? Sweet, unnecessary, and dramatic.
Of course Wei Wuxian would ensure that his Lan Zhan would have something special above the rest.
Lan Wangji held the flower with careful hands, as if it would disintegrate at any moment. He glanced up to the platform, and saw Wei Wuxian shamelessly sending flying kisses in his direction.
He placed the flower on top of his robes, displaying it proudly for all to see. Then, his hand reached out, fingers seemingly grasping on thin air, before bringing his hand close to his mouth.
Beside him, Wei Wuxian squealed, sighed, and pretended to swoon like a lovestruck maiden. Nie Huaisang just sighed, fanning faster to get rid of the flush he suddenly felt on his face. Honestly, they acted like a courting couple, not a husband and wife.
The sight of black and purple behind the whites of Gusu Lan made Nie Huaisang stand up again, this time in excitement and anticipation. Zidian seemed to spark on his finger, but Nie Huaisang could barely give the ring a glance, not when Yunmeng Jiang had finally arrived, looking just as distinguished and proud as the Sects that came before them.
His husband was leading them, riding on top of a stallion with a mane as dark as the night. Jiang Cheng looked regal, almost intimidating, and the sight of his handsome husband never failed to make Nie Huaisang’s heart flutter in his chest. The flowers came, varied and numerous, and Nie Huaisang sent his own as Yunmeng Jiang passed under them, timing it just right so it would drift into Jiang Cheng’s line of sight.
His husband opened his hand, the flower landing gently on his palm. As he lifted his face and met Nie Huaisang’s gaze, Jiang Cheng’s light gray eyes seemed to twinkle with mischief.
Without a word, he lifted the flower and pressed his lips to the petals, before securing it on the front of his robes, right in front of the platform the wives are on.
As gasps and squeals sounded around him, Nie Huaisang’s heart lurched wildly, his knees buckled dangerously, and the hot blush on his cheeks had probably spread to the soles of his feet.
His husband was not good for his health! How dare he do something like this to his heart!
“Oh my,” Jiang Yanli giggled nearby, pressing a sleeve over her mouth as Nie Huaisang barely managed to keep himself standing, holding his fan in front of his face to hide how flushed his face must have looked like right now. “It seems like A-Cheng refuses to lose to meifu when it comes to showing affection for his wife.”
Nie Huaisang refused to dignify himself with a response, sitting down on his seat and proceeding to melt as far into his seat as he physically could while eyes slid to his general direction.
Not even Lan Wangji was so audacious! What was his husband thinking?! If this was a part of the competition then he refuses to be a part of it! His body wouldn’t be able to take this much stress!
(But a small, tiny part of Nie Huaisang was preening, pleased at the thought of being so highly regarded by his husband.
That’s right, his husband was his and not theirs, so everyone back off.)
Finally, Lanling Jin Sect arrives last as the host of the Discussion Conference, resplendent and attention-grabbing in their golden robes, which seemed to shimmer under the sunlight. Jin Guangyao was beside Jin Zixuan, Hensheng on his side, riding as a part of Lanling Jin with the Sect Leader's approval.
Jiang Yanli lifted Jin Ling from his crib and held him as her husband’s Sect passed by under them. The little boy even held a flower in his small, chubby hands, and with his mother’s gentle prodding, sent it and his mother’s own flowers into the awaiting hands of Jin Zixuan. Even Jin Guangyao received his own flowers from his nephew and sister-in-law, his momentarily surprised expression giving away into a soft, affectionate smile. He bowed deeply in the direction of Jiang Yanli and Jin Ling, the flowers placed in his vambrace.
“A-Xuan, take care! A-Ling, A-Yao, and I will be here to cheer you on!” She calls out sweetly, waving Jin Ling’s hand at their family. Strangely, Jin Guangyao seemed to be moved almost to tears, while Jin Zixuan had a wide smile on his face as he placed Jin Ling’s flower on his headpiece, and his wife’s near his heart.
With the hosting Sect finally taking their places, the parade has ended, and with a few words from Jin Zixuan, the sword fighting tournament has officially begun. Positions had been drawn the day before, and the Sect Leaders dismounted, exchanging a few words with the disciples before going towards the platform where their wives were waiting to watch the matches beside them.
When the Sect Heads finally arrived, greetings and words were exchanged, food and drink offered, as they took their places at their respective tables. The four Great Sects were particularly loud during these exchanges, considering they were all related in one way or another, but eventually everyone settled down to watch (or talk) as the matches ensued.
Jin Zixuan was watching the fights below as closely as a hawk, occasionally exchanging words with his brother, while Jiang Yanli and Jin Guangyao happily conversed with each other, Jin Ling dozing off in his uncle’s arms despite the noise.
Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue were deep in conversation, and considering the way the Lan Sect Leader visibly lit up and grasped Nie Mingjue’s sleeve, almost tearing it off in his excitement, it seemed that Chifeng-zun had finally revealed the news of his wife’s pregnancy to his sworn brother. Jin Guangyao approached them, curious, and once aware of his eldest sworn brother's wonderful news, tried to give his young nephew to Nie Mingjue with Jiang Yanli's permission, teasing that their da-ge needed to learn how to hold a child now he was going to become a father.
And so tiny Jin Ling was passed on to the Qinghe Nie Sect Leader, who looked very uncomfortable with the child in his arms. Anyone who saw the endearing sight tried their best not to laugh in front of his face.
Beside the Venerated Triad, Lan Wangji was sitting with Wei Wuxian brazenly draped all over his lap, being plied with food and alcohol in accordance to Wei Wuxian’s demands. In the meantime, Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing were furiously exchanging ideas about golden core theories, the healer sitting much closer to her husband than it was socially appropriate.
Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng had finally sat down in the table reserved for Yunmeng Jiang after greeting his siblings and extended family members. As fast as Zidian’s lightning, Nie Huaisang’s fan struck Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “What was that, Wanyin-xiong?! Did you know how embarrassing that was?!” He said in a furious whisper, squeezing Jiang Cheng’s hand so tightly it almost bruised.
“Is it forbidden for a husband to show gratitude towards his wife’s gift?” Jiang Cheng muttered back, letting his hand be held to almost-literal death. “Besides, you liked it. So why shouldn’t I do it?”
“That’s not the point!” Nie Huaisang (softly) screeched, resisting the urge to bury his face In Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. The rumors following that audacious display would be bad enough; he didn’t need to add fuel to the fire. “Must you be so shameless? Even Wangji-xiong isn’t so bold!”
“It’s only right that the rest of jiang hu know how much Young Madame Nie is appreciated and treasured in Yunmeng Jiang.” His husband didn’t even have the decency to look contrite. On the contrary, he looked almost smug at his actions.
(Nie Huaisang didn’t know whether to beat his husband with his fan or lean forward to kiss the daylights out of him. Each urge was equally as strong and in the end, propriety won out.
However, it didn’t mean his husband was off the hook.)
The matches continued throughout the day, and with it, the casual talks and interactions between their families. There was a reason why Nie Huaisang liked these Conferences, despite the staggeringly large amount of work that came along with it.
It provided his husband the opportunity to meet his siblings and niblings. It gave him the time to see his older brother and his brother’s sworn brothers, to check on his family and the disciples from Qinghe, to catch up and be aware of what was happening in his family’s lives.
It showed Nie Huaisang how large his family had become, how much they had all worked to finally have this opportunity to be united without a common enemy as their only bond.
(He would never exchange these moments for anything in the world, and would fight anyone who dared to take it away from him.)
In the end, a Gusu Lan disciple ended up winning the sword fighting tournament, and Yunmeng Jiang was in last place out of the four Great Sects. Not surprising, but still impressive, considering they beat all the smaller Sects before facing off with someone from a major Sect. Their disciples were still young and the Yunmeng Jiang had just been recently revived; they had no chance of winning against the other Sect’s older and more experienced disciples.
As their disciples trudged towards his husband after the tournament, steps heavy and faces lowered in shame, Nie Huaisang could only look at them in sympathy.
While he would never understand the thrill of competing, he too understood the feelings of frustration and anger of loss against something.
“You did your best. I’m very impressed with your efforts. You have done your Sect proud.” Nie Huaisang said gently, and the young ones seemed to wilt more, flinching at his kind words.
“Thank you, Young Madame Nie,” they muttered, and Nie Huaisang was a complete loss on what to do until his husband caught his gaze and inclined his head.
Nie Huaisang nodded, acquiescent, and waited in silence.
Jiang Cheng took a long moment to gaze at their bowed heads, and the disciples flinched, waiting for the lecture that would naturally come after a terrible performance.
“Now you know the pain of loss. If you don’t want to experience it again, train harder and become better next time.” He finally said, voice gruff.
There was a short moment of astonished silence, then they all bowed in unison, spines straight, shoulders set in determination.
“Yes, Sect Leader Jiang!” The disciples chorused as one, and perhaps this was the best way to comfort someone from Yunmeng Jiang, Nie Huaisang thought as his husband dismissed them with a few more words.
Attempt the impossible. It wasn’t just a motto, but their Sect’s way of life.
Nie Huaisang was certain these children would take his husband’s words to heart.
After the disciples’ sword fighting tournament, finally it was the event everyone was waiting for. Anticipation and excitement was thick in the air, as a Lanling Jin Sect disciple finally announced the cultivation world’s first Sect Leaders exhibition match, to the loud cheers and screams of the largest crowd that had gathered to date.
This was possibly the highlight of the Discussion Conference in Lanling, and anyone who was a part of the jiang hu would be insane to purposefully miss it.
Nie Huaisang gave a cursory glance around him, observing some of the Sect Leaders. Some of the older ones were giving last instructions to the disciples that would stand in their name, while others were pale, clutching at their weapons with a trembling grip. Others, like his husband, was sitting calmly in their seats, while others had their eyes closed, seeming meditating.
One by one, the Sects were called by place and the ruling family name, accompanied by claps and cheers from the crowd. The Sect Leaders who were going to participate on their own had their weapons ceremoniously handed to them by a family member before they went to the arena, sometimes with a parting word, glance, or action. The Sect Leaders who were not participating stood up, bowed, and declared another member of their Sect to stand and fight in their name and stead, explaining the reason why, such as their age, or general inability to fight.
Slowly, the grounds filled up with colorful robes and multiple weapons as the competitors arrived one by one. The only weapons that were not allowed during the fight are permanently incapacitating substances, such as poison and acid, and spiritual musical weapons, as it could affect the entire area and give that competitor an unfair advantage.
When Qinghe Nie Sect was called, Nie Mingjue and Wen Qing stood up, approaching the edge of the platform.
“If I see any signs of your qi being unstable, I’ll pull you out of the fight immediately. No objections!” Wen Qing said sharply, getting Baxia from her back and pressing it to her husband’s hands. “... Don’t overdo it, you idiotic man.”
Nie Mingjue looked like he was about to retort, but the expression on his wife’s face made him set his jaw and scowl instead, closing his hand on his saber and taking it from her with uncharacteristic gentleness. “... As my wife wishes.” He grumbled, robes swishing as he leaves, leaving Wen Qing to stare at his back.
For someone from the Qinghe Nie Sect, that short moment was positively romantic. Was his brother actually becoming more… cautious now? Perhaps the knowledge that he was about to become a father had made him reconsider his actions significantly.
Wen Qing was truly a positive influence on the Qinghe Nie Sect. Nie Huaisang would worship the ground she walked on if given the chance.
Gusu Lan was called next, and Lan Xichen stood up, smiling and bowing apologetically in front of everybody. “Due to my unique position as Sect Leader Nie’s sworn brother, I’m afraid that I wouldn’t be able to fight with the seriousness and decorum this exhibition deserves. So I beg everyone's forgiveness and understanding. Instead, my younger brother, Lan Wangji, will fight in my name and in my stead as the representative of the Gusu Lan Sect.”
Ah, Nie Huaisang thought as Lan Wangji stood up in the midst of murmurs, so that was why.
Understandably, some were a little disappointed that the First Jade would not participate, but seeing his reason as sound, no one could really object. Wei Wuxian followed after his husband with a grin, taking Bichen from his side and presenting it to Lan Wangji frivolously.
“Lan Zhan, sorry, but you can only have Bichen! Wangji isn’t allowed in this fight,” the demonic cultivator patted the clothed guqin on his back affectionately. “But don’t worry, I’ll keep it safe for you until you come back. Get out there and win for me, er-gege!” He gave a roguish wink. “If you win, I’ll give you a reward!”
To those who were looking for it, Lan Wangji’s ears flared a vivid scarlet. “Shameless!” He bit out, taking his sword from his wife’s hand. “I will win for Wei Ying.” He declared simply, and exited the platform, landing down below as soft as snow while Wei Wuxian screeched after him.
“Lan Zhan! You better come back and take responsibility for my heart!”
Below, Lan Wangji just nodded in acceptance, and more than a few people had their faces pressed against their palm, unable to stand such public displays of affection from such esteemed cultivators, even if they were married. Jiang Cheng beside him, in particular, looked faintly ill, scowling in the direction of his older brother.
(“Heavens strike him down,” he had muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as if to stave off an oncoming headache. Nie Huaisang had patted his hand in quick comfort, but kept silent.
As if Jiang Cheng was someone to talk. He was as just as bad as his brother.)
With the promise of a reward, even with a beast like Nie Mingjue on the grounds, Lan Wangji just about looked ready to slaughter them all. Bets were changed, amounts were increased, and the tension ramped up significantly, causing more general chaos in the audience stands. Nie Huaisang sighed internally.
(Should he change his bet?
… No. Trust his instincts.)
“Next,” the Lanling Jin announcer called out, and Nie Huaisang sucked in a sharp breath, tightening his hold on his husband’s hand.
“From the south, Sect Leader Jiang Cheng, courtesy Wanyin, to represent Lotus Pier and the Yunmeng Jiang Sect.”
This was it. Nie Huaisang slowly stood up, his husband guiding him to the edge of the platform, untying Sandu from his waist along the way. Once there, he faced his husband, giving out Sandu first, and then Zidian, pulling it from his finger to slide it back home onto his husband’s, where it was always meant to be.
“I will wait for your victorious return, xiang gong.” Nie Huaisang declared, stepping back and keeping a respectable distance from his husband, but not without a quick, affectionate squeeze of his hand.
The crowd had been frenzied enough with Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, they did not need anymore encouraging.
But then, Yunmeng Jiang’s motto was to ‘attempt the impossible’. It would not be possible to have a more blatant and shameless display of public affection then what just happened just a few fēn ago.
All throughout the day, Jiang Cheng had seemed determined to strip away any face he had left. Surely he wouldn’t do anything now.
Oh, how his husband just loved to prove him wrong.
Jiang Cheng slowly moved forward, until he was in front of his wife, startling Nie Huaisang.
Just as he was about to ask what was wrong, Jiang Cheng raised his hand and his fingertips touched the lapel of Nie Huaisang’s robes.
Nie Huaisang’s breath stuttered to a stop.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared.
No one dared to make a single sound, not even breathe, as the Sect Leader of Yunmeng Jiang stood so closely to his wife they were already breathing the same air. Nie Huaisang looked and felt like he was going to combust at any second, breath coming out in short gasps, as he felt the stare of the entire crowd on them.
Jiang Cheng’s hand finally caught on something, and, twining his fingers around it, lifted it up for people to visibly see. It was a lock of Nie Huaisang’s hair, thick and glossy, twisted in between rough, sword-calloused skin.
Then, with deliberate slowness, Jiang Cheng raised the lock of hair to his lips in what was an undeniable kiss, eyes closed in reverence.
In the distance, someone screamed, and was immediately muffled by something (or someone else), but Nie Huaisang didn’t even turn his head at the sound.
Right now, the world could be burning around them, and Nie Huaisang wouldn’t even notice.
“As my niang zi commands this humble xiang gong, I will return with a victory.” He murmured against Nie Huaisang’s hair, storm grey eyes opening and peering down at him through long, black lashes. Slowly, Jiang Cheng let the lock of hair slip through his fingers, making the tips flip elegantly and rest against Nie Huaisang’s chest again.
Nie Huaisang was completely struck dumb, only able to watch his husband jump off the plaform with wide eyes and an open mouth, the heat on his cheeks still not registering until he pressed his palm against it.
He was awake. Definitely awake.
… What just happened?
Nie Huaisang wasn’t even aware that he was being gently guided back to his seat until he was finally conscious of his body sitting on top of a comfortable cushion, his hand holding a cup of very strong tea.
“Are you all right, Nie-xiong?” It was Wei Wuxian, who snapping his fingers in front of Nie Huaisang’s face a few times, trying to get his attention.
“... Wei-xiong?” He blinked at his old friend, wondering how he got here while he had been standing just moments ago. “I… Just a moment ago, I was—”
“My brother has effectively broken you and the rest of us, Nie-xiong.” Wei Wuxian shakes his head in mirth and disbelief. “Look at what you’ve done.” His hands swept through the platform and the crowd under them.
The people were in complete pandemonium. They were screaming, shouting, gesturing towards the raised platform with wild arms and hands. No one had ever seen such a bold declaration of intent, not even between a husband and a female wife.
“Did you just see that?! Sect Leader Jiang just—!”
“I know! My eyes did not deceive me! He just kissed his wife right in front of us!”
“... Well, just his hair, but still—”
“How romantic! I could just swoon! To have someone openly declare their affection for me like Sandu Shengshou did for Young Madame Nie would be a dream come true! Young Madame Nie must be the luckiest wife in the cultivation world!”
“How scandalous! Showing off their affections in public! Have they no shame?!”
With the way people were reacting, you’d think Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng had done their wedding night right in front of their faces. Still, it didn’t stop Nie Huaisang from sinking as low as he could in his seat, hiding his face with his fan, trying to disappear from the sight of the other Sect wives, who were looking at him with disapproval, envy, or a mixture or both.
“Don’t be so mortified, difu.” Jiang Yanli said, patting what she could reach of Nie Huaisang’s shoulders. “It was… a little surprising,” she admitted. “But anything that A-Cheng does is very sincere. Especially when it concerns you.”
That is the entire point, da gu! Nie Huaisang cried internally. Of all the times to become so reckless! Why did his husband do that?!
Nie Huaisang wanted to cry.
Jiang Wanyin, you impulsive idiot!
“It was very sickening. Like a scene out of a romance book.” Wen Qing added, who watched the entire go down with amusement, finishing off another mantou. Her child must be really hungry. “But I’d advise to be careful talking to your fellow in-laws in the next few months. They look like they’re ready to make your husband their first target.”
With growing alarm, Nie Huaisang looked at the grounds, just in time for him to see Lan Wangji and Jin Zixuan glare darkly at his husband.
Goodness. Was he so dazed that he completely missed the Lanling Jin traditional hand-off? Was that the reason why he was led back to his seat, because he didn’t move of his own volition?
He had no face to display to the others anymore. After what Jiang Cheng had just done, it was completely obliterated.
So in the end, he downed the cold tea in his hand, and just shook his head.
“He… I… I don’t know! I really don’t know!”
(Now he would be known as the wife that Sect Leader Jiang Wanyin loved.
A potential weakness.
He refused to acknowledge the dread and the small flutter in his stomach that came with that thought.)
“Competitors, take your places.” A man announced, and instantly, all of their attention was on the arena below. Everyone was tense, some with their weapons out, others with a hand on the hilt of their swords.
Jiang Cheng was across the arena, a hand on Sandu’s hilt, Zidian still sealed.
The noises from the crowd rose in pitch.
“You know the rules. Losses include stepping outside the grounds, being disarmed of your weapons, and vocally yielding or surrendering. Permanent injuries and killing another competitor is forbidden. The last person who remains standing or who is the last to surrender is the winner.”
The Lanling Jin man who made the announcement took out a talisman and looked around the area. “May the gods favor the most bold.” He threw the talisman.
And everyone watched with bated breath as the talisman floated in the middle of the grounds and finally exploded.
“Start!”
As expected, it was a complete slaughter. With so many people in the arena, it was bound to get chaotic, and the wives tried their best to follow the paths of their respective husbands.
Most of the smaller Sects tried their best, but the disparity of talent and power between the Sects were much too great, and couldn’t be overcome in a single day.
“So, it’s just us then?” Nie Mingjue asked idly, twirling Baxia casually around his arm as he surveyed his surroundings. All of the minor Sects had been defeated and taken off the battlefield, leaving only the representatives of the Four Great Sects standing. None of them looked the worse for wear, relatively uninjured, with sweat and blood clinging to their skin and clothes.
“Finally, a real fight.” Jiang Cheng said with a smirk, finally unleashing Zidian, purple lighting swirling around the dark grey whip, making the crowd ooh and gasp in awe. Before this, he had only used Sandu, and even then, the sword had not left its sheath. “Don’t hold back on us, da jiu. I’ve always wanted to seriously cross swords with you.”
Nie Mingjue barked out a laugh. “If you wanted a spar you can visit me in Qinghe anytime. I’m sure Huaisang could spare you for a few hours.” Both men gave a quick glance at the platform above them. “And if you could get that brother of mine to work for a few hours on the training ground, then all the better. I hope you improved at least a little, brat.”
Jiang Cheng’s smile was all teeth. “I’ll endeavor to meet your expectations, da jiu.”
“Of course, it would be an honor to learn from someone of your caliber, Chifeng-zun.” Jin Zixuan said, lifting Suihua and assuming an offensive stance. “But I’m afraid I’ll need to win this fight. My son needs to have a good role model, after all.”
Jiang Cheng snorted. “Your son wouldn’t even remember this at all. His jiujiu would be the only role model he would need. But it seems like I’ll have to apologize to my wife and my siblings for beating his older brother and their husbands.” His grip tightened on both weapons in each hand.
Nie Mingjue’s grin was delightfully feral. The promise of a good fight made bloodlust shine in his eyes. “Bold words from Sect Leaders Jin and Jiang! What about you, Hanguang-Jun?” He glanced at Lan Wangji, who was watching the entire exchange calmly. “I’m a little disappointed that Xichen didn’t want to fight, but you’ll do. Has your cultivation improved enough to face me, little Lan?”
Lan Wangji had a frown on his face, which was the most expression the man had for the past shichen. “As promised, I will win for my wife, my brother and my Sect.” He readied Bichen. “Allow me to apologize beforehand, Chifeng-zun.”
Nie Mingjue laughed out loud, and raised Baxia in turn. “Interesting! What will you do? Take me on one-on-one? Attack me all at the same time?”
Jiang Cheng, Jin Zixuan, and Lan Wangji all exchanged glances. And, as if reaching an unsaid agreement, all three attacked at the same time, Zidian making the first strike, lightning crackling and slithering towards the older man.
“Three against one to take out the greatest threat first! A smart move!” Nie Mingjue said in approval, dodging Zidian easily. “Come and show me what you’ve got!”
Despite their massive differences in personality, the same-generation cultivators worked well as a team, with Lan Wangji on offense, Jin Zixuan trying to break through Nie Mingjue’s defenses, and Jiang Cheng as back-up, alternating between short and long-distance attacks to keep the man on his toes.
(During the war, it was a necessity to watch each other’s backs. No matter how much people disliked each other personally, they had something to fight for, and a man down would be a loss.
They could brawl it out later. But first, eliminate the biggest threat.)
Together, as one unit, they pushed Nie Mingjue back to the edges of the arena, trying to make him lose through an arena exit, but experience and cultivation style was on Nie Mingjue’s side. Even with two Sect Leaders with a high cultivation base and one with a power level that could be considered an equal to those Leaders, the Qinghe Nie Sect Leader was still able to hold his ground, pushing back against them with power and ferocity.
No wonder he killed Wen Xu, and survived against Wen Ruohan.
It was a battle that would be discussed in the decades to come, as flares of spiritual energy burst in small and large amounts, as blades sang against one another and lightning crackled throughout the fighting grounds, neither side holding back a cùn.
At the platform, the wives were completely silent, watching their husbands fight, in various states of worry and anxiety. Wei Wuxian was uncharacteristically serious, biting his thumb as his mercurial eyes followed the speed of the combat, shifting quickly with the flow of the tides. Wen Qing had been asked to retire multiple times, out of concern for her pregnancy, but she refused to move, eyes trained on the ongoing match below. Jiang Yanli was carrying Jin Ling, who wouldn’t stop crying, leaning against Jin Guangyao, who had an arm around her, as she silently fretted for both her husband and brother.
Nie Huaisang was on the same boat, was holding his fan so tightly it was beginning to creak dangerously in his grip. He had been so close to getting heart attacks the last shichen, with every moment he saw his husband or brother in danger or trouble. They managed to outwit the situation and come through stronger, but now, it was a matter of endurance and willpower.
If your husband was fighting against your brother, who do you side with?
With your heart, or with your family?
(But it was completely different from the war, where there was the very real chance of any of them losing a person they cared for.
It was a time Nie Huaisang lost hours of sleep, tossing and turning in his hard pallet, as figures and plans went through his head, something, anything, that could help turn the tides in their favor.
Now, no matter how much he was banged up, his husband would still return home.
But it still did not stop a wife’s worry for his husband.)
As the fight finally drew to a close, it was the swing of Baxia that decided the final outcome, knocking away Bichen from Lan Wangji’s grip.
For a moment, everyone was silent, speechless.
Nie Huaisang closed his eyes and sighed in relief as Nie Mingjue howled in victory, and the skies were lit with the green bull emblem of the Qinghe Nie Sect.
Later that evening, during the final banquet, the atmosphere was cheerful, with everyone still buzzing about the Sect Leaders’ exhibition match. Many praises continued to be sung about the Four Great Sects, on how valiant, brave, and talented their Sect Leaders and Hanguang-Jun was, and how Chifeng-zun was the strongest cultivator of this time.
With such strong cultivators, the jiang hu was appeased that their world would be protected, even if another Wen Ruohan would appear in their midst.
Jiang Cheng bore his loss with befitting dignity and grace. He was dressed in his best evening robes, a dark purple it looked almost black, which hid the bruises and gashes on his body well. His face was a different matter, with a shallow gash on his cheek, a split lip, a dark bruise near his temple. He wore his hair half-down to not aggravate the wounds on his face, but his braids were still present, looped through the silver and emerald headpiece given to him that morning.
Dressed like this, he was a startlingly mirror image of Jiang Fengmian, despite having Yu Ziyuan’s face and temperament.
Even with all his injuries, he was still infuriatingly handsome.
Nie Huaisang had been fussing over him the entire night, despite the healer’s assurances that his husband only needed to eat and rest as his wounds were superficial and he merely needed to recover his spiritual energy. Thank the heavens there were no bones shattered, limbs torn off, guts eviscerated—
“Niang zi, I am fine.” Jiang Cheng was putting up with him with a surprising amount of patience, but even he looked like he was going to strangle Nie Huaisang with all the hovering he was doing. “You heard the healers, I’m not going to drop dead anytime soon.”
“No,” Nie Huaisang interrupted, pointing his fan at his husband sharply like it was a sword. “You’ve used up all of your favors from me today, xiang gong. You are going to sit there, eat your food, and do nothing. Do you understand me?”
Jiang Cheng opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it, and closed it again, tucking into his food with a grumble. Beside their table, Wei Wuxian was roaring with laughter, wrapped around Lan Wangji’s arm, occasionally feeding him with bits of food, as Hanguang-Jun’s fingers were wrapped in bandages.
Lan Wangji, despite being fed like a child, looked ridiculously content.
“Aiyah, my shidi is such an obedient husband!” Wei Wuxian cooed, making Jiang Cheng scowl at him. “You must be a handful for Nie-xiong to handle! Thank goodness my husband listens to me and never gives me heartache! Isn’t that right, Lan Zhan?”
“En.” Lan Wangji nodded and waited patiently as Wei Wuxian squealed, kissed him on the cheek, and fed him more rice.
(With Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji’s presence, at least Nie Huaisang has a little face to give still.)
“Wei Wuxian. I’m not so injured that I can’t give you the lashings you deserve. Come here and I’ll give you heartache—”
“Waaah, so scary! Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan, help me, Jiang Cheng is being mean to me!”
“Mn. Will protect my wife.”
”You—!” Jiang Cheng growled and made to stand up. Nie Huaisang placed his fan on the table with a soft exhale, and reached forward to gently grasp his wrist.
“Xiang gong.” He said simply, with a glance at Wei Wuxian, who shuddered and immediately stopped whatever mischief he was brewing.
Jiang Cheng looked at him, and Nie Huaisang shook his head minutely, his hold loose enough that his husband could pull away whenever he wanted to.
“Please.”
A short moment of tension, and Jiang Cheng settled down again, flipping their hold so it was him who was holding Nie Huaisang’s hand, threading their fingers together and resting it on the table.
Zidian was a warm presence between them.
“... As you wish, niang zi.”
Wei Wuxian had that terrible gleam in his eyes that promised unrelenting teasing in the years to come, but Lan Wangji blessedly came to the rescue, raising his hand to physically cover Wei Wuxian’s mouth.
“Wei Ying. Do not bother people while they are eating.”
The arrival of Lanling Jin and Qinghe Nie Sect Leaders and their wives quickly put a stop to the conversation. As the overall winning Sect during the Discussion Conference, they had the place of honor beside Lanling Jin’s table.
As Nie Mingjue received toasts in honor of his victory in the exhibition match, he stood up and received all accolades with a bow.
“This triumph… I will raise in honor of my unborn child.” He said proudly, glancing at Wen Qing, who almost dropped her teacup and blushed a bright red at the unexpected words.
Thus, the announcement of the Qinghe Nie Sect’s incoming heir was publicly announced, prompting more causes for celebration.
As the Discussion Conference came to a close, Nie Huaisang was finding it more and more difficult to stay in the richly decorated rooms of Carp Tower.
He missed the open, airy rooms of his house, the green mountain ridges that surrounded the lakes and rivers of Yunmeng. He yearned for the quiet lakewaters, to walk on the connecting wooden docks, to sit in his pavilion and feed the fish that sometimes gathered below.
He wanted to wake up beside his husband, to look for him while he’s training, to talk to him about what they needed to do in the Sect in the coming days, in the safety and security of their home.
He needed to go back to Lotus Pier.
So that night, encased in the warm, strong arms of his husband, Nie Huaisang, breathless and yearning, whispered against Jiang Cheng’s lips.
“Let’s go home, xiang gong.”
And Jiang Cheng, always understanding, always so good, who reflected the same longing in his eyes, nodded and pressed their foreheads together.
“Let’s go home, niang zi.”