Work Text:
Nie Huaisang’s always liked Meng Yao. Meng Yao is clever, and likes the same things Huaisang does - he doesn’t sneer at Huaisang’s painting, he admires Huaisang’s calligraphy, he understands. Meng Yao brings Huaisang a set of brushes for his birthday, uniquely commissioned. It makes Huaisang grin, and he showers Meng Yao with thanks and praises every time he sees him for the next week until his da-ge gets grumpy and ushers him out of the room.
Huaisang understands that sometimes Meng Yao’s smile is forced, even if no one else seems to. But he thinks it’s warranted; people are cruel.
Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang snigger from the back rows of discussion conferences. When they attend gatherings of the sects, Meng Yao points out which smiles are faked. Nie Huaisang needles that he must know from experience; Meng Yao laughs, because they have long since agreed to be transparent with one another.
Meng Yao is the one who gifts Huaisang his first fan; he teases that Huaisang can use it to hide his face, says he’s a terrible liar. Huaisang snickers, and replies that if Meng Yao can see through him so easily, he must simply learn to lie better.
And so Nie Huaisang learns.
Meng Yao crafts a mild-mannered persona, resplendent in dimples and gentle smiles. Huaisang shivers and fumbles and begs people not to ask him. When Jin Guangyao sets plans into motion, Huaisang retaliates with his own. When Jin Guangyao stumbles into the leadership of a sect, Nie Huaisang ascends his own throne and sets to proving himself wholly unsuited for it.
A decade later, Nie Huaisang brushes blood from an embroidered, ridiculous hat, and thinks you taught me this. Everything I have become, I learned from you.
It’s poetic. And both of them always liked poetry.
