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There was snow gently falling down to the ground when Nie Huaisang went out of their private quarters to do his daily duties, Obsidian following after his heels obediently.

Compared to Qinghe, where the temperatures could become bone-chillingly glacial at times, Yunmeng was a bit more comfortable, but the resulting chill still required roaring fires to be lit over the hearths and warmer layers to be added to clothing and bedding. Lotus Pier itself was as equally beautiful in the winter as it was in the summer, with gently falling snow layering over bare branches, dark roofs, and the undisturbed grounds. The surrounding lakes had frozen over, slowly but surely, leaving a thick, pristine layer of ice that was just begging to be skated on.

It wasn’t Nie Huaisang’s first winter as the Young Madame Nie of Lotus Pier and Yunmeng Jiang. However, as beautiful his surroundings were, it was a time that brought him much anxiety and concern for his well-being, teeth worrying his lower lip as he glanced up at the light grey sky.

Nie Huaisang sighed and looked down, staring at the leaf of his fan. He tucked his robes closer to himself as a cold wind drifted through the room, shivering as it eventually caressed his skin. Obsidian raised himself up to his hind legs, pawing at Nie Huaisang’s thigh after sensing his distress, and Nie Huaisang quickly ran his hand over the black coat to calm the dog down. 

How could he possibly explain something like this to Jiang Cheng?

But perhaps it would be different this time around, Nie Huaisang thought with hope, as he finally walked towards his next destination. He needed to get used to living in Lotus Pier after all, the warmest place in the cultivation world, even if the frosts of the changing seasons managed to touch it. 

Perhaps this year his body would be strong enough to withstand the weakness that constantly plagued it as a child, with the permanent change in his location and his stronger cultivation base.

(It had to.)

“Come on Obsidian, follow me.”

(It was a fool’s hope, but it was something to desperately cling on to, when everything else had already failed him.)

The cold season slowly descended onto Yunmeng with a flurry of ice and snow.

Contrary to expectations, Jiang Cheng rather liked the winter season. It was quiet and peaceful time, showing a different side to Yunmeng that people did not normally see. It made travelling easier and faster through the ice, the boats docked and replaced by sleds on metal blades. Beside a lake, there were still many activities that could be done outside, such as skating and ice fishing. And compared to other locations in the cultivation world, Yunmeng was still warmer and had a more comforting chill. 

After tying his hair back and sliding Zidian on his finger, he considered what needed to be done for the day. Maybe he should train the disciples’ tolerance by tossing them into the ice-cold water. After all, this was the few weeks in a year when it was possible. Perhaps he should do his meditation inside one of the training halls as well, depending on how cold it was today.

Finally set on his activities for the morning, Jiang Cheng was about to move away from the bed when he realized something.

The other side of the bed was warm. Too warm.  

He instantly removed the thick covers, only to see his husband curled up on himself, shivering badly in his inner robes despite the warmth from their mattress, breathing shallowly.

“Niang zi?” Jiang Cheng asked quietly, brushing away the hair that fell on his husband’s face, the tips of his fingers brushing against jade pale skin.

Hot.

Jiang Cheng was instantly alert. 

Something was wrong.

“Huaisang! Wake up!” He shook his husband’s shoulder, trying to rouse him. He leaned closer to check on his husband, sliding an arm under Nie Huaisang’s shoulders to prop him up against Jiang Cheng’s torso, pressing his knuckles gently against his husband’s forehead to check his temperature.

Too hot. His husband was burning like a furnace, his skin whiter than usual despite the flush that covered his cheeks and down his neck. His husband was trembling badly, unconsciously curling towards Jiang Cheng’s bigger frame, seeking warmth.  

“Mn?” Nie Huaisang’s eyelids fluttered slowly, sluggishly, soft, brown eyes unfocused and glazed over as he tried to find his husband. 

“Huaisang, how are you feeling? Does anything hurt?” He asked, trying his best to keep calm. What happened last night? Was it because of the cold? But their rooms were kept very warm, Jiang Cheng was completely fine, and his husband showed no signs of an impending sickness before they went to bed. 

“Xiang gong?” Nie Huaisang murmured back thoughtlessly, instantly catching Jiang Cheng’s attention, finally meeting his eyes. “Mn… It’s too early…” His hand reached up to give Jiang Cheng’s light pats on the cheek, as if comforting him, his palm and fingers ice cold compared to the almost unbearable heat radiating from his body. 

“Let me sleep more, okay? Good boy, let me...”  

Without warning, Nie Huaisang’s hand dropped, as if abruptly cut by a string. His head rolled towards Jiang Cheng’s chest, suddenly silent, unresponsive.

Jiang Cheng stared down at his husband in quickly rising horror before gathering his husband into his arms and running as fast as he could to the nearest healer. 

“A seasonal sickness, Sect Leader Jiang,” their head healer declared after a doing a thorough examination on Nie Huaisang.

“... A seasonal sickness.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was flat and devoid of emotion.

He must have given Lotus Pier’s healers a heart attack when he burst through the door to their quarters so early in the morning, hair unbound and unbraided, still wearing his inner robes. 

But to their credit, upon seeing Young Madame Nie in their Sect Leader’s arms, they quickly scrambled into action, with one directing Jiang Cheng to the nearest bed to place Nie Huaisang down and asking him for further details while the others focused on Nie Huaisang, trying to ascertain his condition. 

A few shichen later, the winter sun had finally decided to break through the thick cover of the clouds and Jiang Cheng had taken Nie Huaisang back in their personal quarters. He was finally dressed and presentable, arms crossed, staring down at the head healer and trying to understand what happened to his husband.

“Yes. There are some people whose bodies cannot take the extreme changes in the weather and the seasons so abruptly. It seems like Young Madame Nie is one of those people.” The healer explained, finally standing up and lowering his head towards Jiang Cheng. “Given his current condition, it would not surprise me if Young Madame Nie experiences this type of sickness often.”

On their bed, Nie Huaisang was still breathing heavily, unconscious, skin pale and tinged with sweat, but he looked much better compared to when Jiang Cheng discovered him that morning.

Jiang Cheng was not unfamiliar to illnesses, but because of his golden core, a cultivator of his level barely experienced them, as they were naturally resistant to things that normally affected ordinary people. He had a vague memory of being ill once, as a young boy, but it was such a distant and far away memory he couldn’t reconcile it as an event that really happened to him. And besides, it had never happened again after he started training in cultivation. 

But this was different. 

(This was his husband, who he promised this lifetime to. His husband, who had given him nothing but laughter and peace and unwavering support, who was suffering and in pain through no fault of his own, whose own body was failing him.

And Jiang Cheng could only watch, helpless, powerless, as his husband struggled and fought against an enemy he could not fight.)

Jiang Cheng clenched his hand into a fist, jaw set tightly as he grit his teeth. 

“Can anything be done?”

“Do not worry too much, Sect Leader Jiang.” The other man quickly assured him, seeing his expression, “this is really just a mild illness during the cold season that could happen to anyone. Young Madame Nie just needs attentive care and complete rest.” 

The man started to rifle through his qiankun pouch. “I can prescribe some panaceas and teas to help regulate Young Madame’s body temperature, and some poultices that can be put on his forehead to help him cool down. I can ask his attendants to give it to the Young Madame later on in strict time intervals to make sure we keep up with his care.”

“I’ll do it. Tell me when I should do it.” Jiang Cheng interrupted, stalling the healer’s words. 

“But Sect Leader—”

“What. Must. I. Do?” Jiang asked again, this time with a glare that promised slow, lingering pain if the other man did not get to the damned point.

Despite the clear threat to his life, the head healer simply smiled back, as if knowing a secret Jiang Cheng did not. 

(That look irritated him for reasons he couldn’t explain.) 

“Very well. Young Madame Nie would also need to eat and drink something occasionally to help him regain some strength to fight against it. Something mild but nutritious would be perfect. If his temperature rises too much, a cold bath would suffice to help lower it down again. Perhaps Young Madame could wear some extra robes, to help him sweat out the fever, but they need to regularly changed to prevent the sweat from clinging onto his body and making him cold.” 

“Mn.” Jiang Cheng tried to note everything he needed to do in his mind, fingers twitching for some ink and paper to help him remember, but his pride would never allow him to. “Anything else?”

“I shall check on Young Madame Nie every few shichen to check on his condition. If anything happens, you can reach me or anyone in the healers’ quarters. If you’ll excuse me, Sect Leader Jiang.” The man saluted and left the quarters, leaving him alone with his thoughts and his sick, unaware husband.

Jiang Cheng took the moment to sit down beside the bed, pressing his palm against his face with a deep sigh. 

He glanced to his side, reaching out to his husband, silent as his fingers and palm managed to touch a heated cheek. His fingers brushed away the silken strands of dark hair away from Nie Huaisang’s face, noting the minute crease of his brow, a troubled expression on his normally peaceful face as Nie Huaisang slept fitfully and uneasily. 

“You idiot.” Jiang Cheng muttered, pulling back as he arranged the pillows and blankets around his husband’s form, making sure he was as warm and comfortable as he could possibly be. “You should have told me about this.”

Nie Huaisang murmured something incomprehensible, the pillows surrounding him helping him fall into a deeper slumber, despite being a poor facsimile of Jiang Cheng’s own body warmth.

“Mn… A-Cheng…” 

The sound of his name made him pause.

A shuddering exhale, and Jiang Cheng raised his head with newfound resolve, harshly telling himself to get a grip. 

Panicking didn’t do anything good. He must be prepared, to do anything he could to make sure Nie Huaisang recovered without any additional complications. 

His husband was not going to leave him. Not like this. 

Not if Jiang Cheng had anything to say about it.

“Nie Lihuan,” Jiang Cheng stood up, eyes never leaving his husband, even as the two Nie attendants appeared from out of whichever shadow they resided in. “Call my head disciple and the head servant. I have an announcement for everyone in Lotus Pier.”

Once everyone had assembled outside of their personal quarters, Jiang Cheng turned to them with a sweep of his robes and a tinkle of his Sect bell like it was the eve of war and he was informing them about battle arrangements.

“Tell this to the disciples and the servants in Lotus Pier. I shall do my work inside our private quarters for today and the succeeding days due to Young Madame Nie’s condition. Inform who must know of it, but under no circumstances must this get out to the common people. I will also not be entertaining any guests unless it is a life-and-death situation.” 

A mild sickness it may be, but Nie Huaisang’s sudden absence in Lotus Pier for the next few days would inevitably affect them all. Much of the household affairs were under his scrutiny, and while his household would not immediately collapse without its head, his husband tended to be very involved in its day-to-day affairs. 

(Nie Huaisang had integrated himself so completely in this new Lotus Pier it was impossible to imagine him not being a part of its halls, with his fluttering fans and sweeping green and violet robes. 

Jiang Cheng couldn’t see his home without his husband inside it, anymore.)

“What of Young Madame’s condition, Sect Leader?” The head servant asked, head bowed low, keeping his tone respectful, but the concern was audible, all the same.

“He is resting. He will recover soon.” Jiang Cheng said firmly, with no room for other questions or doubt. “For now, continue as you are. If any changes happen, report it to me immediately. A-Liu, come with me, we’ll set up the disciples’ training regimen for the next few days…” 

Perhaps he was overreacting, Jiang Cheng thought as the others bowed and went to continue their tasks after his instructions were clarified and understood.

(But a Sect without one of its strongest pillars was weak, an opportunity, and Jiang Cheng would not see his home burn a second time.

Better to be prepared for everything, rather than be taken off guard while having nothing.)

“And Yuyang. Send a message to the Unclean Realm, and address it to Sect Leader Nie, as quickly as possible. Inform him of Young Madame Nie’s condition.”

Qinghe Nie was the farthest cultivation Sect from Yunmeng Jiang in terms of physical distance, but Jiang Cheng had no doubt his brother-in-law would move mountains and split the very earth just to be able to check on his younger brother with his very own eyes.  

Jiang Cheng had made a promise to Nie Mingjue to take care of his younger brother after all, and having another Sect Leader in Lotus Pier, an ally, would significantly ease his own peace of mind about the security around Lotus Pier.

A familiar face might also help his husband recover faster, and perhaps, Jiang Cheng could also gain a few insights from the man who raised his husband.

Nie Mingjue arrived as abruptly as lightning in the middle of the storm, touching down in front of the gates of Lotus Pier all on his lonesome. Barely two sticks of incense had burned before the disciple on the lookout announced the other Sect Leader’s arrival, and Jiang Cheng went out to receive him in haste, leaving Nie Huaisang’s attendants and Obsidian to care for his husband in his absence.

Typical of Nie Mingjue to physically arrive himself instead of sending a letter announcing it, but then again, Jiang Cheng had been expecting it. 

(The man would do no less for his brother.) 

Jiang Cheng was already waiting for him at the opened gates, with Black Pearl by his side, when Nie Mingjue dropped down from his saber, wearing his thick winter coat, lined with fur, starting to feel like a frozen sack of meat as the snow continued to fall around them. 

Nie Mingjue merely had another extra layer of dark green robes that served as his protection against the elements.

(Qinghe must be really something else, if that was all the other man needed to feel warm in Yunmeng.) 

“Sect Leader Nie Mingjue,” Jiang Cheng bowed stiffly when the older man had finally approached them. Winter robes were so cumbersome to wear, bulky and difficult to move in. “Welcome back to Lotus Pier.” 

“Jiang Wanyin.” The older man inclined his head, his own version of the salute, and took a brief moment to pet Black Pearl on the head. She barked back, recognizing that Nie Mingjue wasn’t a threat. “Where’s my troublesome brother?” 

(Jiang Cheng sometimes hated how intimidating and how effortlessly charismatic his brother-in-law was. Nie Mingjue had taken Sect leadership when he was around Jiang Cheng’s current age, and had done a superb job of keeping it afloat, actually managing to raise the Nie Sect’s esteem and reputation in the cultivation world.

And he had to do it alone, with no one to help him, with a small Nie Huaisang to care for, the eyes of the entire cultivation world on his back, and the eventual war with the Wens looming over his shoulder. 

Nie Mingjue had no choice but to become the hardest steel forged by the hottest flames, and Jiang Cheng knew, from his own experience, that it wasn’t an easy, pleasant, quick affair.

There were a lot of things he could learn from his brother-in-law.

One day, maybe, if he managed to gather the courage and the lack of utter face, Jiang Cheng would sit down with him and have a drink, and ask Nie Mingjue for stories he could share, to see if he could glean a few lessons along the way.

And Nie Mingjue, Jiang Cheng was certain, for all his gruffness and initial, almost instinctive dislike of him because Jiang Cheng was the bastard who took his younger brother away, would not refuse him.)

Jiang Cheng inclined his head towards the main residence in turn. “He is resting inside, sleeping. Shall we enter Lotus Pier and warm up, daiju? I’ll have a servant brew us some tea while I tell you the details.” 

“To hell with that.” Nie Mingjue’s grin was fierce and sharp, white canines flashing at him dangerously. 

“Give me Yunmeng’s strongest jar of alcohol, meifu. Then we can talk.” 

Jiang Cheng gave an answering grin back.

“If that is what daiju wants.” 

(He knew there was a reason he liked his brother-in-law so much.)

A short time later, both men were inside the much warmer residence, coats and outer robes off, in the Sect Leader’s private receiving rooms. The sleeping quarters where Nie Huaisang was resting was just a few doors away, and Jiang Cheng had sent for a few bottles of Yunmeng’s finest wine while they settled down. Black Pearl was happily playing in the snow, bringing back the small ball the two men occasionally threw outside for her to fetch.

It tracked water and snow inside the room, but in the face of a pup’s simple happiness, both men couldn’t bring themselves to stop.

“How is Madame Wen?” Jiang Cheng asked politely. “I hear that her pregnancy is going well.”

“As large as a boulder and still on her feet teaching the disciples how to do a splint on a broken leg. She’ll bring me to a qi deviation faster than any fight could,” Nie Mingjue grumbled, reaching for the nearest jar, tearing off its cover, and chugging it down without even a blink. 

Jiang Cheng merely got another jar of wine, pouring them both a new drink. 

“Woman couldn’t sit still for a miǎo before getting up to do something or the other. I can’t even yell at her now because the midwives said it might harm the child’s development. Women,” he said with a satisfied hum, glancing at the jar of alcohol approvingly, using his arm sleeve to wipe at his mouth. Black Pearl brought the ball back to him with a wag of her tail, and the man simply tossed it out again. “Always so fussy.”

Nie Mingjue was just about ready to grouse on how unreasonable and stubborn his wife was being throughout the duration of her pregnancy, like Jiang Cheng could understand how the older man felt when his wife refused to stay in bed and continued to do her duties despite being ready to give birth at any moment.

And surprisingly, unexpectedly, he could. Jiang Cheng sympathized with many of Nie Mingjue’s grievances towards his spouse, because Nie Huaisang could also be hardheaded and impossible to get along with at times.  

It was as if, after getting married, Nie Huaisang regained the spine that the Nie Sect was famous for, and fought him with everything and anything that he considered important enough to merit his attention. 

It constantly reminded Jiang Cheng that Nie Huaisang was independent, strong, and intelligent, that he did not marry a weak, submissive man. 

(However, despite the numerous complaints said out into the open air, of them sharing a similar experience of living with insufferable, headache-inducing wives, Jiang Cheng, too, would never exchange his spouse for anything in the world.)

“It’s good that Madame Wen and the child are healthy then, if Madame Wen could still move around,” Jiang Cheng said instead, both sympathetic to the older man’s plight, and at the same time unwilling to say much on the matter, just to make sure he didn’t accidentally offend or insult his brother-in-law. “When will the babe be born?”

(Damn it. His husband had always been better at things like these. 

Not for the first time today, Jiang Cheng wished Nie Huaisang was by his side.)

“The child will arrive any day now. Actually, you and Huaisang should go to Qinghe and stay for a while in the Unclean Realm, after he gets over this illness of his.” Nie Mingjue said casually, picking up the more proper cup of alcohol this time. “He will never forgive me if he’s not present for the birth of his first nephew or niece.” 

Jiang Cheng nodded. “Of course, daiju. We’ll be honored to witness the birth of your firstborn. Huaisang’s been looking forward to it these past few weeks.” Black Pearl came back inside, with the ball in her mouth and waiting to be praised, but Jiang Cheng was lost in thought, looking down on his own cup, at the clear, still surface of the wine. 

Another child born, another generation secured for a Great Sect. 

The only ones left were Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang. And considering Gusu Lan had formally adopted Lan Yuan into their clan, Lan Xichen had not married yet, and the number of their clan disciples was still comparatively large compared to their own, their next generation was somewhat stable as well.

The only one left was Yunmeng Jiang, and the topic of the future heir for the Sect was of the utmost imperative. Out of all the Four Great Sects, this was perhaps the largest obstacle Yunmeng Jiang now faced.

He needed to have an heir as soon as possible, or risk Yunmeng Jiang crumbling once more, disappearing for good before it could even begin again.  

(Jiang Cheng had meant it when he said he wasn’t going to have children with anyone else but Nie Huaisang. And adopting a distant relative from his father’s family could work out wonderfully as well.

It was only a matter of if the Sect Elders, those old farts, would be amenable to those terms.) 

The press of Black Pearl’s cold snout against his clothed thigh jolted Jiang Cheng back to the present, and he took the moment to take the ball and give her the attention she needed, using that time to gather his thoughts and keep himself together. 

That was a topic for another time, one that needed to be discussed with his husband. For now, his brother-in-law mentioned his husband’s sickness first, and it was as good as a topic changer as it was going to get. Jiang Cheng called for a disciple to take Black Pearl away.

He couldn’t afford to be distracted now, and he clung on to the quickly unravelling thread before it completely disappeared. 

“Dajiu, this illness…” He started, once the disciple and his dog are out of range, “our healers said that it’s likely Huaisang experiences it often.” 

“En.” Nie Mingjue agreed, setting his drink down, expression turning serious. “He inherited it from his mother.” 

“... The late Madame Nie?” Jiang Cheng ventured cautiously, carefully watching the older man’s expression. His husband had not told him much about his parents, simply because he was too young to remember both of them.

But the man in front of him was more than a decade older than his husband, old enough to remember his childhood, to have memories of the parents that gave them life and raised them. 

“Mn. Huaisang’s mother… Madame Shang has always had a delicate constitution, even before she married our father. People said that my father had been in love with her for a very long time,” Nie Mingjue said, staring into the distance, at the flurry of ice that now covered the distant mountaintops of Yunmeng. 

“But she was physically weak, and would never be able to do her duties as Madame Nie well. Besides, my father was already promised to another. My mother. And so he did his duty, and had his wife, while his heart still belonged to another.” A pause, to drink from a warm cup of wine. 

“We of the Nie Sect had always been more susceptible to qi deviation more than any other Sect, because of the cultivation path we follow. After my mother died in childbirth, our father had no choice but to make sure I lived long enough to inherit his position as Sect Leader, as he already had a limit on his own lifespan. And only then could he follow his desires, and marry Shang Taisang.” 

So that was where his husband got his courtesy name from, Jiang Cheng thought. It was unusual, to name a child after their parent.

(But perhaps, in this case, it was acceptable.)

“To our father, she was the wife he had always wanted to have. To me, she was the older sister I’ve never had, and to Huaisang, she was the mother he had never gotten to know.” Nie Mingjue continued, before meeting his eyes. 

“The moment Huaisang was born she named him ‘Huī’, because he was born at the rise of the dawn, and carried the first rays of sunlight with him.”

Huaisang’s mother had given up her life so her son could live, so there was still a piece of her that still remained with the family she would still leave behind.

(The man in front of Jiang Cheng, unlike his husband, was so much older, had memories of their mother, of how she lived and died and how she loved. 

It must be painful, to have lost two people in your life that that wanted you, but never knew them, in the end.)

“Carrying Huaisang to term and delivering him sent her to an early grave. For what it was worth, she did not regret her decision, and I do not blame her for it. Huaisang inherited many things from her, her looks and health among them. Huaisang is certainly stronger than his mother, but every once in a while, his body fails him, and he succumbs to illness.”

Nie Mingjue traced a finger over his cup, in an unusually contemplative mood. 

“Huaisang often gets sick during colder weather.”

(A memory bloomed in Nie Mingjue’s mind.

“My little sunshine,” Shang Taisang had whispered, weak and pale, with tears freely streaming down her face, but her arms were strong and tight around the small form of his little brother. “Xiao Nie, come and look at him. Hold him and meet your little brother.” 

Nie Jian, now of age and with the courtesy name Mingjue, went closer warily. In truth, his father should have been the one here, but Sect business was Sect business, and his new brother, Hui, had come too soon for any of them to anticipate. 

It fell to him, the Sect heir, to properly welcome the newest member of their family, and peered down to look at his brother for the first time.

Nie Hui was quiet, a small, red, wrinkly thing, with a set of lungs that made Nie Mingjue wince outside Shang Taisang’s quarters as he finally joined their world. His arms trembled slightly as Nie Hui was carefully passed on to him, still swaddled in thick blankets, his head nestled on the crook of Nie Mingjue’s elbow, his body barely even longer than Nie Mingjue’s forearm.

But his eyes were the color of liquid gold, the Nie Sect gold, clear but unseeing as he finally looked up at Nie Mingjue.

And Nie Mingjue felt his breath leave him in a quick rush.

“He’s… so small, A-Jie.” 

“All babies are small at first, Xiao Nie. You were as small as him, once.” Shang Taisang was looking at them, looking so frail that even the lightest breeze could sweep her off and carry her away with them. But her smile was warm and bright and full of love and fondness, patting Nie Mingjue on the cheek. 

“Aiyah, Xiao Nie, you look as if you’re uncle and nephew, not brothers.”   

A blush appeared on Nie Mingjue’s face, instinctively knowing he was being teased. 

“I-It’s not my fault, A-Jie, I’m not too big, he’s just really small!”

“And he will continue to be smaller than you, Xiao Nie, for the rest of your lives.” Her expression became quietly sad, all of a sudden, and it alarmed Nie Mingjue, thinking that something was wrong.

“... A-Jie?”

Shang Taisang patted an empty spot on the bed, and Nie Mingjue went slowly, cautiously, still holding Nie Hui to his chest. Once he was seated, Shang Taisang reached forward to briefly touch Nie Mingjue’s cheek, face uncharacteristically serious. 

“My Xiao Nie, you will take care of your baby brother, yes? Will you promise this A-Jie to keep him safe and make sure he is happy?” 

Nie Mingjue looked down at his brother again, at his wide, innocent eyes, at the chubby arm that managed to free itself from its swaddle. As he tried to tuck it back inside the blankets, Nie Hui suddenly grasped his finger.

To his surprise, the baby continued to hold him, his little fingers grasping his finger so tightly with surprising strength. 

The action made Nie Mingjue’s heart stutter, his chest constrict. 

It was so sudden, so abrupt, the overflowing emotion of such fierce, protective love Nie Mingjue didn’t know what to do with himself.

He looked at his second mother, trying to find the words to express what he felt, but she merely smiled back, nodding in understanding.

Right then and there, Nie Mingjue swore to himself that he would do anything to make his brother happy. 

“En, I promise! This Xiao Nie will take care of his new didi!”)

“Then… if that’s the case…” Jiang Cheng said, once the pause became too long to be comfortable, “why wouldn’t Huaisang tell me? Something so important should be…” 

Nie Mingjue locked eyes with him, his gaze suddenly sharp and forbidding.

“Would you marry a wife that constantly becomes sick during the winter, Jiang Wanyin?” 

“I—” Jiang Cheng started and immediately closed his mouth, staring down in sudden guilt as he fully comprehended the question being asked. 

Of course not. No Sect Leader would marry someone who was more trouble than they were worth, and a person who had poor health was at the very top of that list. Not only did a Sect wife need to be physically capable to handle affairs in their husband’s stead when necessary, they also needed to be able to carry and raise healthy heirs for the Sect. It also took money and time to care for a person like that, things that a Sect Leader could spend on much more important and pressing matters.

It was cruel, but Jiang Cheng could only be honest with himself, and he knew Nie Mingjue would answer the same way. 

“It was his secret to tell.” Nie Mingjue answered, pouring himself another cup of wine. “And despite the reasons eluding me, he actually likes you. He talks to you. So you should have known before you asked to marry him, brat.” Nie Mingjue snorted.  

Jiang Cheng made a face, but couldn’t refute the statement. 

During their year’s study in Gusu, he and Nie Huaisang learned about each other more than they both had ever expected to, and it was… nice, to have a friend that Jiang Cheng earned on his own terms and efforts, without his martial brother dragging him along for the ride. Wei Wuxian’s expulsion became a blessing a disguise for Jiang Cheng, despite the severe loss of face Yunmeng Jiang incurred because of it. 

(Without Wei Wuxian, it meant Jiang Cheng could just be himself, allowed him to interact with other people without looking after his troublesome brother and worrying that the other would taint their Sect’s name and image in some way or another. 

It meant he could be Jiang Cheng, courtesy Wanyin, Heir of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, and not Jiang Wanyin, babysitter and caretaker of the genius Head Disciple of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect.)  

In the Cloud Recesses, sharing the same room, he and Nie Huaisang constantly talked about each other and their families, shared dreams and memories and desires and hopes and frustrations. It was… a comfort, to realize how similar he and Nie Huaisang was, how they had always stood under the shadow of people much greater than they were. 

It was easier, somehow, to talk without the ever-bright presence of Wei Wuxian to ‘help’ things along.

But never had Nie Huaisang mentioned something like this, and even after the war and their wedding and his husband finally living with him in Lotus Pier, Jiang Cheng had never noticed Nie Huaisang getting sick.

(… Unless it was during those times, when Nie Huaisang would wrap himself up in blankets, would refuse to leave their room and would do his paperwork on the bed, ending up sleeping more often than not. 

Jiang Cheng would scold him sometimes, whenever he would catch his husband dozing off in the middle of writing something, and his husband would simply laugh it off. 

Now he realized the reason why, and guilt bloomed harsh and quick in his chest, now plaguing his memories.) 

But why would Nie Huaisang hide this from him? Because he was too embarrassed? Because he experienced it so often it was already inconsequential at this point? 

Or maybe, Jiang Cheng thought, with more clarity, the only reason Nie Huaisang would keep something like this from him was if… 

(If he thought it would be something that would make Jiang Cheng reconsider marrying him.

To be fair, his husband wasn’t wrong. Back then, knowing that Nie Huaisang became sickly at times would have made Jiang Cheng rethink his possible choices for his future wife.

But now, after all they had been through, after all the work and hardships, the pain and happiness they experienced together?

How could Jiang Cheng even think of marrying another wife?

It didn’t matter. 

Not when his husband had his mind, heart, and soul.

His everything.

And if he had to wrestle with Death itself, just for the slimmest chance of being able to leave this world with his husband to go through the wheel of reincarnation together, Jiang Cheng would take it a heartbeat.)

“Huaisang is worth it.” Jiang Cheng said instead, meeting Nie Mingjue’s intense, light-colored gaze directly, steadily, despite the tightness in his arms and legs, the almost unnoticeable tremble in his fingers. 

“No matter what he hides or what he chooses not to tell me, I will still choose him as my wife over anyone else.” 

A beat of silence, and Nie Mingjue hummed with approval, standing up and downing his cup of wine like it was water. “Good answer, meifu. Now come, and let’s check on that younger brother of mine and see if he’s awake. And if he is, I’ll be the first to give him the tongue-lashing he deserves.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t think that scolding someone for something they couldn’t control would do anything good, but far be it from him to actually say anything about it.

(The man raised his husband for all of his entire life. Considering how Nie Huaisang turned out, in the end Nie Mingjue would know best how to handle his younger brother more than anyone else would, even Jiang Cheng.) 

“He’ll be happy to see you, dajiu,” Jiang Cheng said instead, standing up as well with a slow measured exhale, slowly letting the tension bleed out of his body. “We have been making plans to go to the Unclean Realm to visit you. If you could follow me...” 

“Da-ge! You’re here!” Nie Huaisang, finally awake, cried with a tired but happy smile, wrapping his arms around his brother once the older man became close enough to touch. Obsidian, who was snoozing at the foot of the bed, was startled awake by the noise, quickly standing up at attention, only going to Jiang Cheng’s side and settling down when he quietly whistled his order. “I’ve missed you so much! What are you doing in Lotus Pier?” 

Jiang Cheng glanced at his husband. Nie Huaisang looked much better now, Jiang Cheng noted in silent relief, his cheeks less pale, his eyes brighter, returning more and more to his usual self. 

For his part, Nie Mingjue grunted but still allowed the hug, patting his younger brother on the back in a way that looked rough, but was still gentler than normal. 

At the side, Jiang Cheng watched the reunion quietly, a hand behind Obsidian’s head, a bittersweet feeling rising up his chest as he remembered his own siblings. 

(He missed his A-Jie the most, with her gentle smile and her caring touch.) 

Catching his eye, Nie Huaisang sent him a grateful look. Jiang Cheng’s lips lifted up in return, not quite a smile, but close enough, since his husband just beamed brighter at him.

It was Nie Mingjue who pulled back first, hands on his brother’s shoulders as he closely scrutinized him from head to toe.

Nie Huaisang blinked, confused, but it seemed like whatever Nie Mingjue was looking for wasn’t there, because Nie Mingjue released him soon enough with a sigh. 

“Your husband sent me a letter, panicking and running around like a headless chicken when I arrived,” Completely not true, Jiang Cheng would like to protest, but the amused glint in his husband’s eye kept his mouth shut. 

“But he did a passable job keeping everything running smoothly,” Nie Mingjue continued grudgingly, which made Jiang Cheng jolt to attention, standing straighter. “How do you feel, Huaisang?”

(That was glowing praise, coming from his brother-in-law.)

“I’m all right, da-ge! I just have a small headache, but that’s something normal with my sickness.” Nie Huaisang answered in an entirely too cheerful tone for someone that was supposed to be ill, which grated wrongly on Jiang Cheng’s nerves. 

Nie Mingjue’s smile was all teeth. “That’s good.” 

And Nie Huaisang instantly realized what he had just revealed, as he visibly winced when his older brother started scolding him without reservation.

“Because what were you thinking, Huaisang?! Why didn’t you tell Jiang Wanyin about your winter sickness sooner, you fool?! Are you trying to put your husband into an early grave?!”

(Obsidian immediately cowered at the volume of Nie Mingjue’s voice, and even Jiang Cheng had to work to keep his face blank as the Nie Mingjue tore into his brother in a way only older siblings could.)

“I didn’t know it was going to happen this year! I thought it was going to be fine since I’ve adjusted to living in Yunmeng!” At Nie Mingjue’s unimpressed look, Nie Huaisang ‘eeped’ and burrowed further into the blankets, as if by doing so he was going to vanish from his brother’s line of sight.

“Wrong answer. Try again.”

“Um… I… forgot?” Nie Huaisang said with hesitation, peeking out from the blankets slowly. At the sight of the older man’s glare, Nie Huaisang ducked underneath the blanket again to the point of only his eyes being the only part visible on his face. “Honest! I really just forgot, da-ge! You have to believe me!” He said, voice muffled, cowering deeper when Nie Mingjue scowled at him.

“Don’t shout, you’ll just make your throat worse! … Have you drank some water? What about the herbal tea the healer gave you?”

“Um… no? I just woke up, so...”

“Foolish! Drink your tea right now! Trying to escape your duties as the Young Madame, are you?!”

“Of course not! Da-ge—”

“And lay down right now! Where’s the wet cloth that’s supposed to be on your forehead?! Give it to me! Do you want to make your condition worse?! Are you trying to make your husband worry more about you?! Shameless!” 

Nie Huaisang whimpered as he meekly followed his older brother’s orders, and Jiang Cheng couldn’t help the smile that was steadily widening on his lips.

(He was strongly reminded of his older siblings, and their smothering, well-meaning care.)

Seeing that his husband was in more-than-capable hands, Jiang Cheng eventually turned to leave. “I’ll leave you two to catch up then, Huaisang, dajiu. I have other duties to attend to. Obsidian, come with me.”

Obsidian stood up, tail wagging as he started to follow Jiang Cheng out. At the same time, Nie Huaisang turned to him in alarm, expression soft and quietly pleading.

“Xiang gong, wait, can you at least keep Obsidian here—”

“I thought I told you to keep still!” Nie Mingjue thundered, keeping a stern glare at his younger brother. “Resorting to a pet to hold onto your hand then?! Have you no pride as a Nie?! Stop your bellyaching this instant!”

“Mercy da-ge, please! We’ve only seen each other and now you’re bullying me!” Nie Huaisang cried, and Jiang Cheng had to bite his lip to stop himself from openly laughing at the wronged look his husband sported. “Have mercy on me!”

Nie Mingjue scoffed, standing up and going to the water basin by the bedside table, rolling up his sleeves. He dropped the cloth in the gathered snow inside the bowl, letting it cool down and packing some of it inside the cloth, wrapping it in a compact, rectangular shape. 

“You’re too soft on him, Wanyin. Go. I’ll keep Huaisang in line.”

Jiang Cheng bowed politely, grateful. “Much obliged, dajiu. Thank you for caring for my wife in my absence. And as a matter of point, since Huaisang is my wife, I can be as soft to him as much as I want.” 

Nie Huaisang colored instantly, bringing more life into his pale face. “Wanyin-xiong!” 

On the other hand, Nie Mingjue gave him a truly disgusted look. “Go and leave with your dog before I decide to express my displeasure with what you just said towards you. Violently.” 

Jiang Wanyin kept his face perfectly calm, even as he moved towards the door. “Of course. By your leave then.” 

“... Wanyin-xiong? No, Wanyin-xiong, wait! Please don’t leave me! Don’t leave me alone with da-ge!”

“If you can beg that loud for your husband to stay then you’re well enough to be lectured on how to behave appropriately! Place this on your forehead now! That cloth better not move an inch, or I’ll break your legs!” 

Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but laugh at his husband’s dismayed expression as he finally left the room, giving Lihuan the instructions to deliver some snacks and drinks for his brother-in-law and his husband and to bring Obsidian to his and his sister’s shared kennel, before going towards the kitchens.

Nie Huaisang would be just fine.

(Jiang Cheng remembered that Jiang Yanli used to cook a congee that tasted mild, but it was so delicious and filling he finished two bowls of it before he even noticed.

Maybe the cooks would remember how his sister used to make it.) 

In the end, Jiang Cheng’s brother-in-law decided to decline the invitation to eat dinner at Lotus Pier, expressing the need to return to the Unclean Realm before the night became too deep and the snowy weather took a turn for the worse. 

Common sense dictated that Nie Mingjue at least stay the night to replenish his strength and at least have a few more shichen to spend with his younger brother, but with Madame Wen in the most delicate condition of her life, the older man had declared that he needed to go back to Qinghe as soon as possible, with a particularly fierce look in his eyes.

So Jiang Cheng didn’t argue any more, and simply walked the other man out to the main courtyard, their boots messing up and leaving imprints in the pristine, formerly untouched blanket of pure white snow.

The snow had finally stopped falling, but the wind was still bitterly cold, whipping against Jiang Cheng’s face so quickly it felt almost sharp against his skin.

“Huaisang’s asleep when I left.” Nie Mingjue said gruffly, once again wearing his outer robes and making his final preparations to leave. “He’s already drank the tea your healers gave him and he’s been changed into cleaner robes. The only thing he needs to do is eat, and he should be set for the night.” 

Jiang Cheng bowed again, this time accompanied by his two dogs. They were even wearing little boots to make sure their paws wouldn’t touch the cold, hard ground.  

“Thank you, dajiu, truly. You’re just the person who Huaisang needed to see today.” 

And he was. His husband had been so visibly happy to see his older brother, despite the tough, terrorizing care Nie Mingjue gave to him. And with his husband in better spirits, his body was sure to follow, and Jiang Cheng was more confident of this conclusion than he had been early this morning. 

(And for Jiang Cheng’s part, it also allowed him to learn more about his husband’s family, to allow him to become closer to Nie Huaisang and uncover more of the layers he knew his husband still had.)

The hand on his shoulder made Jiang Cheng blink and straighten up in confusion. 

“I’m not the one he needs to see the most now, Wanyin.” Nie Mingjue said, unusually serious, giving his shoulder a brief squeeze. “After all, I’m not the person he holds closest to his heart.”

Not anymore.

Jiang Cheng’s brows wrinkled more, at a complete loss on how to react. “... Dajiu, what do you mean by that?” 

Of course Nie Huaisang needed to see his brother the most when he’s sick. Nie Mingjue was the only family he had, and also the furthest away from his new home. If there was a person Nie Huaisang needed by his bedside, it was the older man.

(Who did his husband hold close to his heart then, if not his own flesh and blood?)

Seeing his expression, Nie Mingjue let go with an aggravated sigh, muttering under his breath so quickly Jiang Cheng, even with his heightened hearing, couldn’t sparse out anything except for a few words.

“—brat is stupid, why did Huaisang even marry him—”

Jiang Cheng almost choked. 

Was his brother-in-law really telling him he was an idiot right in front of his face? 

“Just… forget it.” Nie Mingjue finally exhaled a breath, face pinched for the briefest miǎo before smoothing over again. “Figure it out yourself. I refuse to be involved in this ridiculous affair.” 

“... Excuse me?”

“Return to your wife, Sect Leader Jiang.” Nie Mingjue commanded, stepping on Baxia before turning to him. “And continue to take care of him, as you promised to me on your wedding day.” 

The dark look in the Nie Mingjue’s eyes wasn’t a threat. 

It was a promise.

“If you don’t, I’ll slit your throat and bury your corpse in your own lakes.” 

But Jiang Cheng just nodded, filing away the earlier conversation in favor of taking the man’s words seriously.

“... I will. Safe travels, Sect Leader Nie.” 

Finally, Nie Mingjue left as abruptly as he came, with Jiang Cheng watching as the man disappeared into the clouds, before gesturing to the dogs and going inside the warmer walls of his home. 

But before he went back into their quarters, he settled the dogs back into their kennels first, making sure they were comfortably warm and had food to eat, and took a quick detour back to the kitchens, to see if the congee was done cooking.

(Hopefully it wouldn’t taste terrible. Even Jiang Cheng accepted that his cooking would never match up to the godly level of his A-Jie.)

He had orders to follow.

“Huaisang? Are you awake?” Jiang Cheng called out softly as he finally entered their sleeping quarters, holding a tray in one hand as he slid the door close with the other. The room was quiet, save for the quiet inhales and exhales of Nie Huaisang’s breath that now stuttered and completely stopped as the other gradually became conscious of his surroundings.

“Wanyin-xiong?” Nie Huaisang’s sleep-thick voice sounded, soft and airy. “Is that you?”

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Jiang Cheng came further into the room, setting the tray down onto the nearest flat surface quickly before rushing beside the bed to help his husband sit up. “Hey, you heard your brother, you should be resting. How are you feeling?”

“Mn. I’m all right, just feeling under the weather.” Nie Huaisang smiled weakly, shivering a little as Jiang Cheng’s own freezing palms connected with his arms, still warm to the touch. His earlier exuberance had completely disappeared, replaced by a weary exhaustion that didn’t suit his face at all. “Mph, xiang gong, your hands are so cold. Did you send da-ge back off to Qinghe?”

“En. Your brother will send word when he’s at the Unclean Realm. Sorry about my hands, I didn’t notice.” Jiang Cheng started to circulate spiritual energy around his hands and fingers, transferring some to his husband, hoping it would help warm him up quickly. “I brought you something to eat. It should help regain some of your strength.”

“What is it?” Nie Huaisang asked, sounding curious. “But Wanyin-xiong, I really don’t have much of an appetite right now…”  

“Just eat a little.” Jiang Cheng answered back firmly, letting go of Nie Huaisng’s hands to arrange the pillows behind his back and around his husband so he could sit up better. After it was arranged to his liking, he grasped Nie Huaisang’s wrist, fingers looking for his pulse point, before leaning forward to press his forehead against his husband’s.

“W-Wanyin-xiong? W-What are you—?” Nie Huaisang’s voice raised an octave, sounding surprised, but Jiang Cheng ignored it, eyes closed and focusing on the radiating heat from where their skin touched. 

“Mn.” Jiang Cheng opened his eyes to peer at Nie Huaisang’s face, brows wrinkling. 

Strange, his husband’s face was completely flushed now, the red disappearing down his neck and hidden by his inner robes. 

Was it because of the illness?

“You’re still a little warm. Good thing I brought some of the tea the healer brewed for you to help lower your temperature. Drink that too.” As Jiang Cheng pulled back and busied himself with preparing and pouring out the tea, Nie Husaiang remained completely silent, fiddling with the edge of the blanket as he continued to look down, cheeks still pink.

“... I’m so sorry, xiang gong. I’ve been a trouble today, haven’t I?” Nie Huaisang finally spoke, his voice soft and filled with such heavy guilt and remorse it was difficult to listen to. “Even da-ge had to come and visit me…” 

“What are you talking about?” Jiang Cheng snorted back, finally glancing at his husband. “You’ve always been a pain in the ass, Huaisang. Today is just a day worse than the others.” He finally removed the lid that covered the congee bowl and set it aside, placing the entire tray of food on Nie Huaisang’s lap. “Now eat. If you really couldn’t stomach any, try to have at least five spoonfuls.”

“But… Wanyin-xiong—”

“Eat.” Jiang Cheng looked pointedly at the food in front of his husband.

Nie Huaisang stared at the spread on his lap for a long time, at the generous amounts of green onions sprinkled around the liquid white of the slowly boiled rice, at the clear, light green color of the warm tea, at the slices of hard-boiled egg on a small, white plate.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but tense as Nie Huaisang finally picked up the spoon and scooped out a small mouthful, his ears and neck steadily burning up, his heartbeat speeding up as his husband finally parted his lips and took his first bite, chewing slowly and thoughtfully.

(It was a rather simple meal, compared to what the servants would prepare for them on the rare times they actually ate inside their personal quarters. 

But this was how Jiang Yanli made her congee, as far as the cooks could remember, and Jiang Cheng would not insult her abilities by doing anything differently. 

He desperately hoped his husband wouldn’t—would—notice.) 

This suspense was going to kill him. 

He swallowed thickly, took a small breath, and steeled himself for the inevitable. “... How is it?”

Nie Huaisang turned to him and smiled. 

“This is really good, Wanyin-xiong.” 

Whatever answer Jiang Cheng was expecting, it certainly wasn’t that. “R-Really?”

Instead of answering, Nie Huaisang ate another mouthful. Then another. And another. “En! It’s delicious!” Before both of them knew it, Nie Huaisang had cleared half the bowl, and had eaten most of the eggs on the plate.

(Jiang Yanli was truly a blessing to their family. Jiang Cheng swore to himself to bring a nice present for his sister the next time he was in Lanling.) 

Jiang Cheng’s shoulders dropped in relief. “That’s good, then.” He watched as his husband ate his fill, the almost primal urge to provide for his mate settling down nicely and easily, filling his chest with a satisfying smugness. His lips curled up, noticing the piece of rice grain stuck on the corner of Nie Huaisang’s mouth.

Cute.

“You have some rice sticking on your face.” Jiang Cheng pointed out, reaching forward to brush it away. “What are you, a kid?” 

Nie Huaisang stayed still with a light laugh as Jiang Cheng cleaned his face, exactly like what a kid would do. “This is really delicious, though. This is the most tasty congee I’ve eaten in my life! Is this a new recipe from the cooks? They made it well.”

“... Something like that.” Jiang Cheng resolutely did not blush as his husband obediently drank the medicinal tea to the dregs, even if his stomach was doing a lot of pleased little somersaults. “I’ll… let them know.”

But his husband was more perspective than Jiang Cheng insitally thought, or Jiang Cheng was terrible at hiding his emotions, because Nie Huaisang suddenly looked startled, staring at him in shock. 

“Wait… did you make this, Wanyin-xiong?” 

Jiang Cheng refused to dignify himself with a response as he took the tray in lieu of answering, his neck starting to prickle with heat along with the rest of his face. “I’ll bring this out,” he said brusquely as Nie Huaisang’s cheeks flared a vivid scarlet, suddenly looking away from him, probably recalling his earlier words, his easy, earnest praise. 

Suddenly, the collar of Jiang Cheng’s robes felt too tight. He swallowed thickly. Damn it, why was the room suddenly stifling? Were the servants overfeeding the hearth with wood?

“Do you need anything else?” He asked before he left, voice miraculously steady.

“I… nothing. Thank you, Wanyin-xiong, for the meal.” The soft shyness in Nie Huaisang’s voice almost made Jiang Cheng trip out the open door, his heart drumming a staccato beat. “I liked it a lot.”

(Thank the heavens his husband didn’t see that.) 

“... Mn. It’s nothing. Get some rest. I’ll be back later.” Jiang Cheng slid the door shut behind him, and immediately leaned against it, letting the cold, winter wind cool his heated cheeks.

Jiang Cheng could very well ask for a servant to take it out, and both of them knew it. 

Was it cowardly, to not want to face your husband while trying your best to stop your heart from beating out of your chest? 

Probably.

(It was often said Sandu Shengshou did not have a heart anymore, after losing his family, after killing so many Wens so cruelly blood had permanently stained his hands, as did anyone else who survived the Sunshot Campaign.

Jiang Cheng had already stared Death in the face multiple times, and felt nothing. 

But men always feared something, and in Jiang Cheng’s case, he had always been afraid of falling.)

… Too late for that, he supposed, thinking of the man who held Jiang Cheng’s heart in his keeping.

It was late when Jiang Cheng returned to their sleeping quarters for the night. He had to make sure everything was set for the night, checking if the dogs were asleep, and taking over some of Nie Huaisang’s duties in the household in the meantime for the duration of his illness. 

His husband was sleeping again when he entered through the door, which was a relief, because he needed all the rest he could get. Jiang Cheng went through his nightly routines, including a long soak in the tub that soothed the never-really-disappearing tightness in his muscles. 

He came back to their bed to finally get some rest, checking on Nie Huaisang quickly to see if his robes needed to be changed and if he had done everything the healer had told him to do.

But everything was fine. His husband’s sleeping robes were fresh, his fever wasn’t as high now, as he seemed to be breathing easier.

Jiang Cheng blew out the candles, immediately plunging the room into darkness, and slid between the thick, warm covers of their bed. He was instantly aware of the change in his husband’s breathing pattern, even as the other stayed unmoving while he settled down on the mattress.

His husband was awake.

Jiang Cheng sighed, staring up at the dark ceiling, before turning to his side, wrapping an arm around Nie Huaisang’s waist to tuck his hotter-than-usual husband closer to him. 

“... You scared the hell out of me, Huaisang.” 

“... I’m sorry.” Nie Huaisang whispered back, turning around so they faced each other, here, in the only place they were both unguarded and undone. Jiang Cheng could just barely see Nie Huaisang’s features, even with his enhanced cultivator senses. “I really didn’t want to worry you. This happens so often I don’t even notice it anymore.” 

“How often? Tell me.”

And so Nie Huaisang quietly confessed, in the darkness of the sky and under the warm cover of the blankets. Jiang Cheng had to stop him multiple times, to let him drink some of the healing tea and soothe his sore throat, but otherwise did not stop him from telling his story, the history of his childhood that Jiang Cheng never knew of.

As a child, Nie Huaisang had always been sickly. His more delicate constitution was apparently another trait he had gotten from his mother, apart from her softer facial features. It was that frailness that took his mother away from them when Nie Huaisang was a toddler. She might have survived giving birth to him, but her difficult pregnancy and taxing birth had firmly placed her foot on the grave, the rest of her following a few years later. 

(Despite not fully knowing her, not even able to remember her face clearly, Nie Huaisang loved her as much as a son could love their mother, and his older brother had loved her just as much, even if she wasn’t of his blood. His brother’s mother, the first Madame Nie, had died in childbirth, causing their father to raise him alone, at least until Nie Huaisang’s mother came into their life.

When Nie Huaisang’s mother died, nothing could stop their father’s fast descent into qi deviation, and the Wen’s dirty, underhanded tactics just exacerbated the inevitable. It left his older brother as the Sect Leader of Qinghe Nie, at an age just barely older than Nie Huaisang’s husband, with an ill child left to care for.)  

His sickly disposition as a boy had made it difficult for him to attempt to take up cultivation, causing him to start much, much later than other people in his generation, until the healers in Qinghe were certain that his body could take the strain. 

It didn’t matter later on, when he subsequently found out that he had no talent for it, but still, at the first few years of Nie Huaisang’s childhood, everyone thought that Nie Mingjue would become the sole heir of the Qinghe Nie Sect.

He didn’t remember it, being so young, but apparently there was a time when winter in the Unclean Realm was particularly harsh, and he had come down with a fever that lasted for an entire week, his body temperature so high that people were already starting to make his funeral arrangements. Nie Mingjue didn’t like talking about it, claiming that he didn’t remember much either, but according to the servants, his brother stayed in his rooms the entire time, looking after him, helping him bathe, dress and eat, physically holding him up shichen after shichen all throughout the night just so he could breathe through the mucus that covered his nose and lungs.

Perhaps it was that moment that decided Nie Huaisang wasn’t meant to cultivate, as his body remained unable to properly form a golden core for the longest time even as he eventually recovered and grew physically stronger. 

After that incident, every winter, as the cold set in and snow and ice dusted the cultivation world, Nie Huaisang would always come down with some form of sickness and become confined to his quarters, a day at best, a week at the most. As the years passed, it didn’t matter where he was or how healthy he had been, or how much tea and medication he drank beforehand.

It was as if his body had an internal timekeeping piece that regularly declared he would shut down a few days every year.

It was a consistent affair as he grew older, and after years of consulting with multiple healers, trying to find a cure for his condition, Nie Huaisang eventually just learned to accept and live with it as a part of his life. Sometimes he even considered it a blessing, since during those times his brother would be much more lenient and allowed him to do whatever he wants as long as he was resting.

(Not that he could do much on a bed, but still, it was the sentiment that counted.)

However, he was the Young Madame of Yunmeng Jiang now, and with the work that was constantly piling up on his desk, Nie Huaisang couldn’t afford to be sick. He didn’t even know how he managed to hide his winter sickness from Jiang Cheng during the first years of their marriage.

Perhaps luck and fortune had a hand with it as well, as his husband tended to be extremely busy with night-hunts during this period. And it was a time when Yunmeng Jiang was just barely getting its feet back onto the ground, necessitating their attention to be directed to more important matters. 

The moment Nie Huaisang felt his body becoming just a touch warmer, when his head started to become fuzzy and light, he would immediately drink as many medicinal teas as he could while trying to fight through the nausea and the headache that came afterwards. Nie Yuyang and Lihuan helped him as much as they could, keeping his secret and bringing him whatever he needed while he barricaded himself inside the sleeping quarters he shared with his husband. 

(When Jiang Cheng asked, at that time, Nie Huaisang told him he was too lazy to get up since it was a really cold day and the bed was really warm. 

His husband had just rolled his eyes but eventually joined him on their bed, and it was only the multiple blankets that were wrapped around him that hid Nie Huaisang’s fever from his normally perceptive husband.)

It was the worst, in Nie Huaisang’s opinion. That not only could he not bear Jiang Cheng children, potentially ending the main Jiang line, but he was also a defective human being who couldn’t even maintain his general well-being for an entire year. 

He had hoped that living permanently in a different place would stop his body from breaking down, but that was a wistful fantasy that would never happen.

Once Nie Huaisang finished his story, Jiang Cheng was completely silent, trying to understand what he had just heard, his mind immediately jumping to the future and the plans he needed to make.

Perhaps look for experienced healers who could check on his husband’s condition. Look for more effective medicine to shorten the days of his illness. Have more people in Lotus Pier during the winter season to help out with his husband’s duties.

There were so many ways, so many paths that were now open to Jiang Cheng, now that he knew what he needed to.

(He could do something to help now.

His husband did not have to go through this alone again.) 

“It’s fine.” Jiang Cheng finally said, making a decision, moving his hand from Nie Huaisang’s waist to cup his cheek. “If this happens often, then we just need to prepare for it, don’t we?” 

Now, with his eyes completely adjusted, Jiang Cheng could see the shock that painted his husband’s face. “... You’re not angry?”

“Oh, I am.” Jiang Cheng assured him, tone deliberately light, “because something this serious isn’t something you hide from the person you married. But since I can’t do anything about it now, we should think of the next steps for next year when your sickness flares up again.”

“But—!”

“Huaisang, the only thing I’m thinking about right now is how glad I am that I could do something so I don’t lose you.” 

Jiang Cheng didn’t know where those words came from. But it was painfully raw, and achingly honest, and he was suddenly, terribly glad that the room was dark, else his husband would see the heat on his face, the way his eyes shifted away from Nie Huaisang’s pretty, delicate face. 

His husband was so close Jiang Cheng could feel his warm breath against his lips, and his stomach clenched in a mixture of terror and anticipation. 

He was nervous. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time, not since the Sunshot Campaign, when they were severely outnumbered and his body was warring between fight and flight. 

(He felt like it was the eve of a grand battle that would decide his fate for the rest of his life.)

“... W-What?” Nie Huaisang stumbled over his words, and his hand clenched around the front of Jiang Cheng’s inner robes.

His husband could now definitely feel the fast and loud way Jiang Cheng’s heart was threatening to leave its cage, to go to the person it now belonged to, separated by a thin layer of cloth. 

“A-Cheng… what do you mean by that?” 

(To think that, if Nie Mingjue had been less vigilant, if Nie Huaisang himself was a little bit weaker than he really was, Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have him in his arms right now.

It might be a simple fever, as the healer actually said, but he had heard horror stories of people getting a fever during the night, only to never wake up the morning after.

The idea of his husband never opening his eyes again, of not being greeted by his beautiful smile and his gentle voice calling out his name was… 

Jiang Cheng's heart clenched so painfully at the thought he almost couldn’t breathe.)

No. He rejected the thought as viciously as he had thought of it. 

There were still so many things Jiang Cheng still wanted to do with his husband. They still need to work on Yunmeng Jiang together, still had dogs to take care of, still had dreams and hopes and experiences he wanted to share with Nie Huaisang.

Jiang Cheng hadn’t even told him that— 

“Huaisang, I have to tell you something.” His voice sounded strange, feeling almost detached from himself, as courage from nowhere suddenly welled up inside him.

He didn’t imagine Nie Huaisang’s sharp intake of breath. “W-What?” 

(What were the words Jiang Cheng could use, to say that he cared for Nie Huaisang, that Jiang Cheng appreciated everything he had done for him, that he made Jiang Cheng feel safe and happy and Jiang Cheng couldn’t bear the thought of living every day without him by his side. 

That Nie Huaisang managed to carve his own space into Jiang Cheng’s heart, into his very core, in a way no other person had ever done before. 

That for Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang was the most important person in his life, perhaps even more than his siblings, and Jiang Cheng would like to ask him to spend the rest of this and their future lifetimes together.

It didn’t matter if Nie Huaisang didn’t feel the same way.

Just… he just had to let his husband know, to listen, before it became too late, and Jiang Cheng would have another regret he would live with for the rest of his life.) 

“You have to listen, all right?! I’ll only say this once!” Jiang Cheng’s heart was pounding so loudly he could barely hear himself speak, his other hand coming up to press Nie Huaisang’s heart over his chest, right on top of his heart. 

“I… Huaisang, I…”  

He met Nie Huaisang’s eyes in the darkness, and they were like small, distant stars, lighting up his lonely, dreary path. 

His hand clenched over his husband’s. 

“Nie Huaisang, I lo—!”  

An abrupt knock on the door.

“Sect Leader Jiang, I’m sorry to disturb you, but a situation has happened.” His head disciple was outside the door, voice low but urgent. “A group of yao managed to cross over the frozen lake and is quickly heading into the town.”

Utter silence.

Nie Huaisang’s face fell in visible disappointment, and Jiang Cheng deliberately closed his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath as the atmosphere completely dissipated. 

His work as Sect Leader never ended.

“... Right.” He moved back, distancing himself from his husband’s warmth, his familiar scent, to don his colors and step into the world that needed him once more. 

“Place Lotus Pier on high alert. Prepare all the disciples for a battle, and put the shields up. The safety and protection of the common people is of the utmost priority. Leave. I’ll join you shortly.”

“At once!” The footsteps faded away quickly, and Jiang Cheng threw off the covers to light the candles and give him some light to work with.

The small, warm glow of the fire allowed him to dress himself again in record time, pulling his hair back in a ponytail instead of a bun without the braids because it took up too much time. He carefully didn’t look at the direction of the bed, unable to stand the idea of looking at his husband’s face, to see his expression after Jiang Cheng failed to say his feelings.

He heard Nie Huaisang slide off the bed, the rustle of his clothes as he fixed his inner robes. One bare foot against the wooden floor, and then another, steadily nearing closer.

It was the gentle tug of Nie Huaisang’s hand on his arm sleeve that caught his attention, and when Jiang Cheng didn’t respond, Nie Huaisang wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing himself completely against his back. 

Jiang Cheng’s body instantly locked up, muscles quivering at their closeness, heart jackrabbiting against his ribs. 

“A-Cheng, let me come with you.” 

“No.” Jiang Cheng said firmly, forcefully, grasping his husband’s arms to keep him steady. “Stay here. You are in no condition to do anything right now.” 

He still couldn’t turn around and meet Nie Huaisang’s eyes. “Going out into the snow will make your fever worse. This always happens, I’ll be fine. Now get back on the bed.” 

“Take Lihuan, at least. He’ll be able to help you.” Nie Huaisang’s sounded so determined, so desperate to help, holding onto him with the little strength he had left. “Yuyang can stay here with me if I need anything.” He felt his husband’s warm face between his shoulder blades, nuzzling against his back, his arms squeezing tight. “Just… please. I want to make sure you would be safe.”

(And when had Jiang Cheng ever refused his husband, especially when he sounded like that?) 

“... All right. I’ll take him with me.” Jiang Cheng gave in. “Now get back on the bed and sleep. This would be done by morning.” He promised, tightening the belt of his robes, their Sect bell dangling at his side.

He had to go now, and Nie Huaisang knew it. But his arms weren’t letting go in the slightest, even closing in on their hold even tighter.

“Huaisang…”

 “... I’ll wait, you know.” His husband interrupted, voice quiet and muffled against his shoulder. “I’ll wait for you.”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t breathe, throat locking up as he tried to speak. “That’s…”

Nie Huaisang wasn’t talking about the sudden night-hunt.

“I know it’s hard to say it, because I can’t do it too.” Nie Huaisang whispered, a hand coming up to rest against Jiang Cheng’s chest, to feel his heart, that was starting to beat quickly under Nie Huaisang’s fingertips. “You’ve always been the braver one between us. Right now, I can’t… I can’t even look at you, and I don’t want you to see my face, because I’m too embarrassed, but…!” 

Nie Huaisang was trembling, his arms shaking as they locked around him. 

“Huaisang, you don’t have to…” Jiang Cheng tried to say, because there was no time, he was needed by the disciples, they could talk about this another time, but his husband firmly shook his head.

“No, I have to! I’m terrified A-Cheng, I don’t… I don’t want to lose you too! Just… I… I have the feeling that… if I let you go, I won’t hear anything from you again.” 

… That was true. After that earlier disastrous attempt, Jiang Cheng would probably never speak of this ever again, to be boxed up and hidden away until something else would inevitably unearth it from the hidden depths of his mind. 

But still...

“... It's your fever talking, niang zi.” Jiang Cheng said, gentling his voice as much as he could. He really shouldn’t take anything his husband was saying seriously, because was sick, and clearly needed some assurance and comfort. “I promise you won’t lose me tonight. Not to this.” He was more than capable of dealing with monsters. His emotions were another thing entirely. “Go to sleep. There’s always tomorrow.” 

“I’m not talking about that! This can’t wait!” 

A quick set of footsteps and another knock on their private quarters, loud and insistent. 

“Sect Leader Jiang, the disciples are waiting for you.” His head disciple said, voice loud and carrying inside their sleeping quarters. 

“Xiang gong, A-Cheng, you’ve always been the only one who listened to me.” Nie Huaisang whispered, clinging on to him still.

“So… please don’t go, and listen to what I have to say.”

Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to do. He was completely torn, his heart and head pulling him in completely opposite directions. He had responsibilities, had obligations as Sect Leader that he couldn’t just throw away just because his spouse asked him to.

But… somehow… Jiang Cheng knew that if he walked away from his husband right now, if he did his duty as he always had, he would regret it with every fiber of his being.

(And he already had too many regrets in this lifetime.) 

“What is happening in the town right now, A-Liu?” JIang Cheng asked abruptly, sharply, causing his husband’s head to lift from his back, as if not expecting his response. “Have the yao managed to cross over completely?”

“Not yet, Sect Leader Jiang. The others are keeping it contained so far. The ice and snow prevents them from moving too quickly, and the barriers in Lotus Pier are doing their part in keeping most of the beasts away.”

An idea lit up inside Jiang Cheng’s mind. 

That’s it.

“Tell the disciples to lure all the yao towards Lotus Pier. Lay out nets and traps to funnel them into a part of the barrier, and finish them off once they are caught. Make sure the disciples are in the barrier so they wouldn’t get hurt. I’m in the middle of something important right now,” Jiang Cheng said, and Nie Huaisang’s arms immediately slackened in their shock. “But I’ll follow once I’m able to.”

“Yes, Sect Leader!” The young man scampered away to follow orders, leaving them alone once more, and Jiang Cheng exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“You…” Jiang Cheng did not have to imagine the wide-eyed stare Nie Huaisang was giving behind his back. “You just—!” 

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Jiang Cheng said softly, reminding his husband that this was only an extension of the time they had left, that he still needed to leave and see what was happening outside through. 

But it was what his husband needed, and he promised to give him anything he wanted, as long as it was within Jiang Cheng’s ability to. 

“But we have it now. What do you want to tell me, Huaisang?”  

Silence.

Then Nie Huaisang’s next words left him in a rush.

“I love you.”

Jiang Cheng stopped. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Could only hear those three words, echoing inside his mind.

Did… Did he just hear right? Was he the one sick? 

… A dream. It must be. Jiang Cheng must be dreaming right now. He must have dropped off to sleep immediately once he had gotten on their bed, because this scene had replayed itself so many times before, both in his sleeping in waking moments that it haunted him. 

Because it was impossible. The idea of his husband returning his feelings was such a foreign thought he couldn’t comprehend it.

Something so… so good and beautiful never happened to someone like him.

Never to Jiang Cheng.

Yes, this was a dream, and he was going to wake up— 

“A-Cheng, Jiang Cheng, Jiang Wanyin, I love you.”

Jiang Cheng could barely recognize his own voice. 

“...What?” 

Something wet dotted on his back, small at first, then growing larger and dispersing throughout his robes.

Nie Huaisang was crying, silently, softly, baring out his heart and soul as if just his words wouldn’t be able to express the depth of feelings he held inside of him. 

“I’m sorry, it’s so sudden and I know it’s not the right time for this, but—!” A hiccup behind him, wet and thick, “even back then, you were… You were just so kind and lovely and so good that I can’t help but admire you. You tried and worked so hard and it hurts me to see you in pain, that you think you should do everything alone.” Nie Huaisang’s hands clenched on his sides, on his outer robes, wrinkling it beyond salvation. “I’m just… happy that I could help you, that I could be by your side, supporting you and caring for you. Thank you, for making me happy.”

Jiang Cheng could feel Nie Huaisang swallow slowly, thickly, and the sound seemed too loud, in the complete silence of the room.

“E-Even if you don’t feel the same, it’s fine. I won’t ask for a response. Just… please, continue to look at me. Please treat me kindly as you always have, and treat me as your friend, even if you can’t look at me as your wife. I just… I can’t… I’m so completely, helplessly in love with you I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. Jiang Cheng, I loved you then.”

Nie Huaisang’s hands finally loosened from their hold, slipping away, and Jiang Cheng startled. 

(No, why was he moving away, he shouldn’t—!)

“I always have, and I always will.”

Jiang Cheng’s heart stuttered once. 

Twice. 

Thrice.

Then Jiang Cheng was whirling around to face Nie Huaisang, his arms wrapping around his husband’s smaller frame, tucking his head tightly against Jiang Cheng’s chest. 

He didn’t move, couldn’t say anything, just continued to hold Nie Huaisang like he was his last lifeline in this world.

(He was so happy he didn’t know what to do with himself.)

He didn’t even realize he was shaking. 

“... Wanyin-xiong?” Nie Huaisang asked, sounding so shocked his voice remained completely flat. “What are you doi—?”

“My heart. Can you feel it?” Jiang Cheng demanded against Nie Huaisang’s hair, jaw tight, face and ears flushed, refusing to let his husband move away even a cùn. “Huaisang, can you hear it beating?” 

Just as Nie Huaisang couldn’t say anything in front of his face, Jiang Cheng too, couldn’t bear to look at him as he gave his answer in kind. 

“... Yes.” Wonder and realization was slowly and surely creeping into his husband’s voice. “It’s beating quite fast.” 

“It’s always like that. Whenever I’m with you.” His fingers weaved through the long, unbound strands of his husband’s hair, silken soft to the touch. “Even when you’re away, my heart still beats as fast when I think of you.” 

There was a quiver in his husband’s voice now, a certain level of disbelief and incredulity coloring his tone as Nie Huaisang eventually comprehended what Jiang Cheng was trying to say. 

“A… A-Cheng… do you mean…” 

“... I understand.” Jiang Cheng said lowly, in his husband’s hair, almost lifting Nie Huaisang off his feet with how tightly he held his husband against his chest. 

“I heard what my niang zi has said, and this xiang gong will take responsibility for his words.” 

“Y-You don’t have to—!” 

“I said I understand!” Jiang Cheng shouted, cutting off any further conversation. 

He took a deep breath and spoke.

“Because I... too.”

The moment he said it out loud Jiang Cheng’s cheeks flared up brightly, and he wanted to bang his head against the nearest hard wall and bury it there. 

What the hell was he doing?! Words! He needed to use his words!

Where the fuck was it when he needed it the most?! 

He felt Nie Huaisang blink against his neck. “Eh?” 

“Me too! I… I… the same way—!” The blush was spreading to every part of his body, and Jiang Cheng wanted to die as he continued to stutter and stumble on what he wanted to say. The only saving grace was that he didn’t have to look at Nie Huaisang’s face, see the way the other man was probably laughing at him because he couldn’t use his words like a grown man would.

Feelings were so hard to say out loud. 

But Jiang Cheng still had his pride as a man, and it didn’t matter if he lost face completely, because his husband deserved a proper answer from him, even if he had to force it out between his teeth.

“Towards you. I feel. The same.” 

But Nie Huaisang wasn’t laughing at him. In fact, he wasn’t even moving, his body stiff and frozen in Jiang Cheng’s arms.

But the moment in sank in, the words lingering in the air, did Nie Huaisang jolt back to the present, sagging completely against him, fingers catching the back of his robes for support.  

“... Oh.” Lips touched the bare skin of his neck as Nie Huaisang mouthed Jiang Cheng’s words again and again, as if trying to commit it to his memory.

Towards you, I feel the same.

(It wasn’t an “I love you too,” but Nie Huaisang, of all people, would know Jiang Cheng the most.

And he did.

Nie Huaisang had always, even back then, understood him perfectly.) 

Once he was completely satisfied, Jiang Cheng felt the shaky, wide smile breaking out of his husband’s face, the arms that suddenly held him back become so tight he couldn’t breathe. 

“Okay, Wanyin-xiong.” 

Jiang Cheng snorted at the ridiculous answer, his heart still not quite managing to calm down as relief and elation surged through his body, the tension between them effectively broken. 

“‘Okay’? That’s it? That’s how you answer my confession?” 

“Well, what do you want me to say?!” Nie Huaisang spluttered back, sounding completely flustered, hiding his face in Jiang Cheng’s collarbone. Cute. “I-I mean, w-what should I do if someone I l-love tells me they l-l-lo—”

“Love you back?” Jiang Cheng finished casually, looking down at his husband, the words coming out easier now that he had gotten through the worst part of it.

His husband was in love with him too. 

Jiang Cheng was the happiest man in the world.

He had to know what his husband looked like right now.

“Yes!” Nie Huaisang squealed, squeaking when Jiang Cheng lowered his head and tried to coax his husband’s face out of his neck. “No, don’t—! Don’t look at me right now, I’m a terrible mess, I’ve gotten so much disgusting things on you you should change your robes before going out! That’s right! You should leave! Right now! The disciples are looking for you and there are yao attacking Lotus Pier—!” 

“Huaisang.” The smile on Jiang Cheng’s lips was helplessly, endearingly fond, as his hands moved to cradle his husband’s face. “My niang zi, look at me.”

It took a little coaxing, but eventually Nie Huaisang relented, finally lifting his face up to meet Jiang Cheng’s eyes for the first time in a while.

And what he saw took his breath away.

Nie Huaisang had always been pretty, even before they were wed, but now, he looked completely ethereal. His face was lightly flushed, cheeks rosy and as smooth as a soft-boiled egg. His eyes were large and wide, slightly watery from his earlier tears, making them glimmer brilliantly against the soft glow of the candlelight. His hair was loose and completely down, framing his softer angles beautifully, his lips slightly parted and just begging to be kissed. 

The moment their eyes connected Nie Huaisang immediately looked away. “Don’t look at me like that, it-it’s embarrassing—” 

“I think you’re beautiful.” Jiang Cheng answered unthinkingly, and his husband looked like he was going to cry again as Jiang Cheng raised his hands to cradle Nie Huaisang’s jaw, his thumbs stroking rose-colored cheeks. His husband’s skin was hot, burning under his palms.

“You should go to bed. It’s late and you need to rest. You’re still sick.” 

Nie Huaisang grasped at his arms weakly, fingers clinging to the dark fabric of his sleeves. “I… This still feels like a dream to me. A-Cheng, I don’t want to wake up.” His husband whispered, his eyes leveling itself with Jiang Cheng’s collarbone. 

“If this is something my fever came up with, then I wouldn’t mind being ill for the rest of my life.” 

“Don’t say that,” Jiang Cheng said back, rather sharp. “It’s not a dream.” Dear gods, Jiang Cheng hoped not. He closed his eyes, felt his husband’s hands move up to cover his own, holding tight as their heads touched. “This isn’t a dream. I won’t let it be a dream.” 

“Okay... “ Nie Huaisang murmured after a moment, after a breath. He swayed towards Jiang Cheng, who caught him easily. “Okay. I believe you, xiang gong.” 

And as if directed by fate itself, there was another knock on the door to their quarters. 

Jiang Cheng had to go. 

Without another word, he picked up his husband into his arms, and settled him back into the bed, tucking him in against as best he could. Nie Huaisang offered minimal resistance, pliant to his touch, sinking deeper into the mattress as his strength was completely drained.

Jiang Cheng frowned when he checked his husband’s temperature. High again. He’ll ask Yuyang to check on him frequently.

He swore to himself to finish this night-hunt as soon as possible. He stared at his husband for a moment, wondering if Nie Huaisang would consider what just happened as an illness-induced psychosis, if he could even remember it.

The thought hurt.

(But if that was what Nie Husaisang decided once he was better, then Jiang Cheng would accept it without another word.

But he would always remember this moment, the way his husband looked at him, the way Nie Huaisang confessed his emotions in the darkness of their sleeping quarters, illuminated only by a single candle.) 

He smoothed down Nie Huaisang’s hair. “I’ll be back in the morning. Sleep, Sang-er.” 

“Okay…” Nie Huaisang murmured back, still holding on to the last wisps of consciousness he had left. 

“Love you... A-Cheng…”

Jiang Cheng leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his husband’s forehead before standing up, his voice soft, but his words unmistakable.

“I love you too, Huaisang.” 

For the next succeeding days, Lotus Pier was buzzing with the news of the beasts that almost managed to get to the town the night before, and the Young Madame of Yunmeng Jiang being confined to his quarters as an illness ravaged through his body. 

The yao were dispatched quickly and easily without much fuss or ceremony. Due to Sect Leader Jiang’s rather ingenious tactic and his direct participation in the night-hunt, damages to the Yunmeng Jiang Sect were mininim and the beasts never got to touch the town at all. Their home Sect had done a wonderful job in protecting the common people, which all of the townspeople unanimously agreed to.

The nature and severity of Young Madame’s condition, however, differed depending on who someone asked, from very mild and easily manageable, to serious and life-threatening, with some even claiming that the Young Madame already had a foot inside the grave. 

However, according to a servant girl (who heard it from the gardener, who heard it from the seamstress, who heard it from the cook who was supposedly good friends with one of the lower ranked healers), his husband, Sect Leader Jiang, was at his beck and call at all hours of the day, getting him whatever medication or assistance he needed. A young disciple backed up these claims, stating that the Sect Leader was not at all present during their training recently, leaving it to the Head Disciple who punished any gossip mongers he caught talking about their Sect Lord and Lady. 

There had even been some talk that Sect Leader Nie of Qinghe even visited for a short time, since he would be unquestioningly concerned for his younger brother, despite having no eyewitness accounts to verify this. 

For Jiang Cheng’s part, he didn’t give a damn on what the rumors said. Rumors were just that, rumors, and there would always be something new coming up every few days to amuse and entertain the masses that wanted to make their dull lives more interesting. 

It took three days for his husband’s fever to completely abate, and once the healers were certain that he was well, Nie Huaisang went back to his attacking his duties like he had never been sick at all, with the dogs trailing after him wherever he went. With his husband assuming his work once more, Lotus Pier eventually went back to normal, Nie Huaisang’s presence visibly and dearly missed by the rest of his household.

Nothing changed between them, after that night. Not really. They still acted the same way around each other, only now Jiang Cheng realized how strange it would be for an outsider to see how… demonstrative they were towards one another. 

(Perhaps it was because his body had been more honest about the desires of his heart, and it acted in a way that merely sought to fulfill those desires, with his mind following after much, much later.) 

He swept through the halls of his beloved Lotus Pier with Black Pearl beside him. His servants and disciples bowed as he went past them, taking in his usual stern expression.

An expression that lasted until he entered their personal quarters, his eyes finally finding his husband, who was sitting on a nearby desk, deeply asleep. 

Nie Huaisang was curled over the table, head pillowed under an arm, various papers and documents scattered around him. His fingers were loose around a writing brush, the remaining ink on the tip staining the dark wood and making small splatters on the nearby book covers. 

His long, dark hair fanned out around him, spilling onto the floor, half-knot still in his elaborate headpiece. He wasn’t even in his sleeping robes, his elaborate day robes keeping him warm but probably uncomfortable. His face looked delicate, almost fairy-like in its slumber, expression of utmost peace, blissfully unaware of his surroundings.

(Jiang Cheng was suddenly reminded of a time during the Sunshot Campaign, of a younger Nie Huaisang, with shorter hair and in the greens and golds of the Qinghe Nie Sect, sleeping in the exact same position inside their shared tent, when Jiang Cheng had finally returned early in the morning.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t sleep. The moment it was decided that (what was left of) Yunmeng Jiang would join the war, he was strongly encouraged (forced) by the other Sect Leaders, both small and large, to make an alliance with at least one other Sect, to ensure that Yunmeng Jiang will see through the war until the bitter end, their massacre from the hands of the Wens notwithstanding.

And what better way to make a strong, long-lasting alliance than through marriage?

They weren’t being subtle at all. Despite her broken engagement to Jin Zixuan, Madame Jin’s fondness for his mother and sister would have still ensured some of Lanling Jin’s participation in the Sunshot Campaign. Meanwhile, Jiang Cheng was a talented cultivator, fifth on the rank of this generation, now the leader of a Sect that still had its reputation as one of the four Great Sects. If, at best, he managed to rebuild Yunmeng Jiang, the ensuing marriage could only be beneficial to the Sect he decided to ally with.

Even at worst, they would still have a strong cultivator they could depend on for help. Jiang Cheng would be the one indebted to them, not the other way around, and it was just too good of an opportunity to ignore.

Some of the Sect Leaders present during the discussion were already hinting that they had daughters at home, very pure, beautiful and talented, who would be the perfect bride for Sect Leader Jiang, and that they would be happy to discuss terms if he had the time. 

Jiang Cheng hated it, the feeling of being helpless, of being looked down on, of being yanked around like he was an unruly dog on a chain. 

Qishan Wen had taken everything from him. Even the freedom to choose his own wife.

But that didn’t matter now.

He had a war to win. Everything else could follow after.

As Jiang Cheng slowly approached Nie Huaisang to tell him to at least get on his bed, a quick look at the documents that were scattered around the other boy stopped him dead.

Nie Huaisang, the headshaker who couldn’t fight, who could have been well-protected in the Unclean Realm but chose to join his brother and Sect in the battlefield, had taken it upon himself to look after Qinghe Nie and Yunmeng Jiang’s rations and supplies, making sure both Sects would have the resources they needed. 

No one noticed how much and how hard other people worked during the war, with most eyes always trained on the people fighting on the frontlines. But a war could not be fought without a backbone of support, and they were the unsung heroes, the people who made the impossible possible.

There was no mistaking those numbers, Jiang Cheng had seen those books recently in his A-Jie’s arms, her worried expression making him so angry he barely stopped himself from lashing out at the nearest person available. 

His A-Jie didn’t have to suffer like this. His home didn’t have to burn, his people scattered to the winds. His parents didn’t have to die, his brother didn’t have be dea— go missing. 

(The alternative was far too painful to think of.)

But why? Why did Nie Huaisang do this? Did his A-Jie ask him for help? Was this something Nie Huaisang actually did, as his way to help during the war?

… No, Jiang Yanli would not ask that of anyone, least of all a person she only knew as Jiang Cheng’s friend. And for as long as Jiang Cheng knew the other, Nie Huaisang just didn’t do these things. 

No, this was completely of Huaisang’s own volition, help given freely and willingly, without telling him.

Was it because they were friends, once upon a time? Was it because he felt sorry for Jiang Cheng, because he was pitiful? 

Rage suddenly flared inside him, white-hot and all-encompassing, and Jiang Cheng’s hands curled into fists, so tightly his knuckles were white, nails piercing skin.

But before he could do anything he would regret, Nie Huaisang stirred, and Jiang Cheng froze. But the other boy just sighs, feel deeper into his sleep, and the sight made Jiang Cheng’s heart squeeze so tightly it hurt, his anger crumbling and fading away like dust in the wind.

His friend was working so earnestly, so devotedly, even when Jiang Cheng had nothing to give in return. Immediately, shame flooded him and he looked away, even if Nie Huaisang couldn’t see his expression.

How could he think that of his friend? This is probably the reason why Nie Huaisang didn’t tell him in the first place, because he would assume the worst of the person who was giving up his time and precious rest to assist him and his Sect.

Jiang Cheng was the worst.

He slowly gave out a long sigh. He reached out, and brushed back the hair that fell on Nie Huaisang’s face, fingertips light and gentle. The other slept like a child, and it was… endearing in a stomach-flipping way.

Before he knew what was happening, his face was bright red and he smacked Nie Huaisang’s shoulder a little too hard, causing him to crash to the ground.

“Wha— Jiang-xiong?! Why would you do something like this?! It’s way too early in the morning!”

“I-It’s because you weren’t sleeping on your bed! Why are you sleeping on the table?! You’re in the way of my bed, Nie Huaisang!” 

If only… A thought whispered in Jiang Cheng’s mind, as he eventually helped a whining Nie Huaisang back to his bedroll. 

If only…)

Now, in the present time, Jiang Cheng approached his husband from behind as quietly as he could, leaning over him and blowing hot air into the nearest ear. 

“Sang-er. Wake up.”

As Nie Huaisang startled awake with a shriek and almost hit him with the brush he was holding, Jiang Cheng simply laughed, sitting down and gathering his pouting husband into his arms despite the fists that rained down on him in retribution. 

“Stop that!” Nie Huaisang shrilly yelled at him, batting at his arms and chest like a child would do to the one that’s holding them. Jiang Cheng just thought he was adorable. “A-Cheng, don’t scare me like that, it’s not funny! And-And those eyes! Stop looking at me like—like—!”  

“Like I love you?” Jiang Cheng asked with a raised eyebrow, watching his husband go from a light pink to a dark red in a matter of a few miăo. 

“D-don’t be so shameless!” If possible, Nie Huaisang seemed to blush even harder, turning his face away and not able to hide his bashful, pleased smile on time. He wasn’t struggling to get away from Jiang Cheng either. “You’ve become insufferable, xiang gong.” 

Jiang Cheng just thought that Nie Huaisang should just be more honest with himself. 

“We’re not outside, we’re in our quarters,” he pointed out with no small amount of smugness. “I can be as shameless as I want. And if I remember correctly, you were the one that’s shameless, Sang-er. Who was it between us that confessed first?”  

At the sound of the new endearment, Nie Huaisang squeaked, burying his face in his sleeves as he leaned against Jiang Cheng’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean for that to happen! And you know that’s not what I meant, Jiang Wanyin!” 

“Then tell me what you meant. This xiang gong will listen to his niang zi. By the way, you looked flushed. Are you coming down with a fever again?” Jiang Cheng asked in faux concern, nudging his husband’s head aside so he could knock his forehead lightly against Nie Huaisang’s, staring deeply into molten gold irises. “You look warm, Sang-er. Maybe we should get you to another healer—”

“Ah, I don’t know anymore! Leave me alone, A-Cheng!” 

As he continued to tease his husband, Jiang Cheng suddenly remembered his thoughts from years back with unusual clarity. 

The words he whispered in the privacy of his mind, as he now patiently endured Nie Huaisang’s continuous scolding, closely holding and looking down at the vibrant, beautiful face of the person he loved the most.

(If only he could have someone like Nie Huaisang for a wife.

That would make his eventual marriage a little more bearable.)