Chapter Text
Devastated. That’s how Nie Huaisang would say he felt. Crushed. Choked. Empty. And even after all the plotting he did to avenge his only family left, the feeling wouldn’t go away.
After the chaos that was Guanyin Temple’s siege, everything was calmly broken. It seemed that his revenge was successful, but at what cost? He technically had betrayed Lan Xichen in order to lead Jin Guanyao to death. He had manipulated someone into offering his life so his most useful option would be at hand. People had died in his game and his mask of naiveness was discovered. So, was it really over or was this the end of his plot and the beginning of his torturing karma?
Huaisang had lost his friends after losing his brother, Nie Mingjue. He was alone, being Sect Leader of something he wasn’t even interested in. Dread and sad apathy filled those long posterior months, as involuntary tears would wet his soft cheeks once in a while because he was filled with so much regret. He’d sell his most expensive fans and even his high position at his sect just to have five minutes with his older brother. He would accept anything; from him yelling at his ineffectiveness like the old times and then leave, to him just staying there in silence embracing him as he cried his grief out. Gosh, not even his revenge could satisfy him at this rate. He wanted his da-ge . He wanted his friends . He wanted his carefree, frivolous life back . He didn’t want to feel alone anymore, something that in a certain way, was caused by himself. In a point, he had it coming. But was he going to endure it all of his life? No, he knew he wouldn’t.
Although this emptiness wouldn’t leave, Nie Huaisang was a good Leader. His sect paid him respects, his servants were nice to him despite the merciless rumors going around him and his Sect and used his free time to redecorate their residence, filling it with delicate artworks, calligraphy art, handmade big decorative fans and even an ink drawing of Mingjue for his incense altar that he did himself so people would remember his tough, yet gentle expression, probably a tender stare he had reserved to Huaisang only and that took with him to his grave. Qinghe Nie Sect had almost lost the intimidating cultivating emphasis it had when Nie Mingjue was leading, so that impulsed more rumours and gossip yet the Sect members were more worried about their current Leader’s lack of motivation. He needed more… life. And they knew they wouldn’t be able to do so.
“Sect Leader Nie!” a voice called and woke him up from his almost slumber.
The throne was so solid Huaisang had to put pillows on it for him to seat. Everything was so tedious, he even had to bring his artwork tools to keep them aside for his small breaks after a while of dealing with paperwork and business! So when he heard the clear voice, the sleepy bubbles surrounding his brain and aura suddenly popped, accidentally dropping his brushes to the floor.
“Uh- what-”
“Sect Leader Nie!” the voice called again. “Are you… okay?”
When Huaisang saw the young woman, he smiled sheepishly, knowing that his close assistants were used to his sleepy, sort of dull demeanors since a long time ago. “Ah… Lu Jia” he mumbled while correcting his position as quick as possible. How embarrassing, though. What if it was another Sect Leader? He’d only fuel the rumours even more, as he already was the good-for-nothing of the Cultivation World. “What’s going on?”
Lu Jia was a few years younger than him, but she was one of Huaisang’s closest assistants. He almost considered her a friend, so she was allowed to enter to the main hall without asking for previous permission, was in charge of receiving news for her to deliver to her Leader and delegated things pretty efficiently. So, she was more his right hand, worried about the Sect’s function and his Leader’s wellbeing.
“I got some interesting news from the disciples” Lu Jia said, smiling happily. With that, Huaisang fixed his sitting position, straightening up, and flicked his fan open as he waved it in interest.
“Oh? Please do tell.”
“I heard some Yunmeng Jiang Sect people had arrived in Qinghe, at the local market. It’s really possible that Sect Leader Jiang Wanyin might be there right now!” she exclaimed, with a hopeful expression on her face. However, Huaisang stood there, in silence as his interested smile dropped into an apathetic, introspective face.
Jiang Wanyin. Jiang Cheng. Jiang-xiong. His friend. His former friend.
Something lighted up his insides at the same time as something pierced his insides. He could see Jiang Cheng. But would Jiang Cheng want to see him?
After the Temple and everything that involved it, Huaisang stopped talking to almost everyone he knew, and if he did it was only for professional, political and cultivating reasons. Nothing else. They and their sects had all the right to not talk to him, after all. Reputation ruined Lanling Jin, still growing Yunmeng Jiang, betrayed yet thriving Gusu Lan. Huaisang had also affected other small sects who were damaged over civil losses and fierce corpse invasions caused by him; so him casually waltzing around the people he had hurt so much would be the last straw for him to become the living pariah of the cultivators. Even Lan Xichen self-punished himself in seclusion for being naive and trusting, yet his “crime” of selflessness was way less than what Huaisang himself had done, for the love of the gods. He technically had blood on his hands, his dishonor was over the roof; so he didn’t know whether even glancing at The Jiang Wanyin was a simple bad idea or more like a death wish, knowing his reputation and his former friend’s past and temper.
Lu Jia blinked twice rapidly in concern. “Sect Leader Nie…?”
Once again, her right wing snapped him out of his overthinking mind. He fanned himself rather awkwardly. “Ah, forgive me for being rude. I just… remembered some things.”
Lu Jia smiled in a sad way, and got closer so she could pat his shoulder calmly. “It’s okay, Sect Leader Nie… I was just telling you so you could decide to go see him or not. I thought it’d be hard to receive these news after a while of not hearing about him, but I also saw it as a chance, an opportunity not to only restore old alliances and all the political talk the Seniors discuss; but to restore a valuable bond as well.”
Nie Huaisang thanked whoever gave him a new generation of comprehensive people, instead of the suspicious ones that surrounded his brother (whose besides working, were really good at spreading shade about his inability at martial arts or cultivating per se). If it wasn’t by Lu Jia, his other servants who helped him out whenever he didn't feel like leaving his chambers (varying from just getting up late to a straight up week and a half being missing) and if it wasn’t for the nights he spent venting to his brother’s altar, he wouldn’t have had a single clue on what to do to survive each day as a different battle against himself. So when her right hand said those words, he really wanted to cry. Did he deserve any comfort at all, after all the sins he had done? He wasn’t sure, but he was sure that those gentle words were a caress to his damaged heart and mind. Maybe she was right. Maybe he could at least try to fix things up with Jiang Cheng, as he was the less affected by his actions in his clouded opinion.
After breathing deeply, Huaisang opened his eyes again and nodded, slightly determined even with the constant feeling of dread he had to bear with. What if it went bad? There’s more posibilities of failure than triumph, anyways. I could sink even lower than I already am…
But I will still try.
And after asking for Lu Jia to stay and delegate for the while, he started walking, fan in hand, outside the Qinghe Nie Sect Residence for the first time in five months. He had lost almost everything in his life, but alas, hope was still the last thing that had to die. He still had some naive faith on him redeeming himself from his dark past and find something and someone to lean on. And maybe, just maybe, he would find a brother in Jiang Cheng, as he hoped that Jiang Cheng would find a brother in Huaisang as well.
Nie Huaisang was conscious of all the things that Jiang Cheng had lost with the time. His parents and home, his sister, his brother-in-law and even after all he had to suffer, he still had lost his dear brother who also was Huaisang’s friend… only to come back from the dead because of him. It hurt Huaisang to see the constipated frown on his former friend’s face every time he saw him afterwards, because he knew his head was thinking about all the resentment and the opposite longing of being close to Wei Wuxian once again. It was a battle against himself, in a world in which he was condemned to raise again from scratch all alone. Huaisang always thanked the gods for letting Jiang Cheng’s nephew Jin Ling live and grow into a healthy young man, who clearly inherited his uncle’s passionate and sometimes hot-headed temper, but had a superior ability in cultivating and soothing Jiang Cheng’s racing mind (Guanyin Temple made everything crystal clear). And even if Jiang Cheng himself wouldn’t admit it —not even in his deathbed—, he was fragile enough for Huaisang’s analytical mind to see that Jin Ling was his only stable pillar. And it saddened him to no end, because he walked that path as well, ended up losing his own stable pillar and due to his desperate measure he ended up losing potential pillars for him to lean onto; he definitely didn’t want Jiang Cheng to get trapped into a cycle of never ending grief.
So when Huaisang arrived at the town’s still opulently humble streets, he did his very best in not running away when he felt everyone’s eyes on him, focusing more in the positively surprised gasps and expressions, usually accompanied by a “Sect Leader Nie is finally outside!” or “I was getting worried about him”, rather than the tsk tsk’s and the “about time”s, the “finally he gets to do something other than slacking off”s, since he knew he had to take his own time on things like processing grief and trauma, yet he was in a position and mindset in which he couldn't let loose so easily like that. The solution? More masks; using his classical gentle smile, but trying to look proud while tilting his chin up. He didn’t know if that would make things better or worse, but he couldn’t let himself doubt when he had already jumped into the wolves.
There was a small commotion at one of the market neighbourhood’s streets, in which he guessed Jiang Cheng would be. His assumptions were correct as he saw three figures dressed in purple and he heard his oh-so-typical snarls at someone. He was at a fan shop, Huaisang could tell. And one that sold high quality fans, like the few ones his brother had bought for him in the past. Jiang Cheng or whoever Jiang Cheng was buying a fan for, had indeed immaculate taste. But as he carefully and discreetly moved so he could have a better angle (not that he would be mistaken as a commoner, yet people were too absorbed by what was going on), he saw his former friend yelling at the shop owner. Aiya, Huaisang thought to himself, displeased. That man is such a great craftsman, why would you yell at him?
He let out a soft chuckle, thinking about his catchphrase back on the day with nostalgia. Have you got no shame, Jiang Wanyin?
Jiang Cheng was yelling at the craftsman because apparently, there wasn’t a fan that pleased the overly exigent standards he was looking for. Something along the lines of “not being good enough”, “present”, “distasteful colors” and “deserve something” in between the people exclaiming and his sect’s people holding him back from probably whipping Zidian on the poor craftsman’s shop. And if Huaisang hadn’t come in those moments, he’d probably had gotten the notice from Lu Jia: “Sect Leader Jiang made a fuss at the market today!”. But anyways. If Jiang Cheng had the will to fly all the way to Qinghe from Yunmeng to buy a specific present (was he seeing someone? Oh, he really wanted to catch up with him!) yet he still was complaining his lungs out, wasn’t that something actually shameless on his part? Don’t get him wrong, Huaisang was actually quite amused and nostalgic at the scene. But he really felt bad over that old man he genuinely cared about. So instead of fanning himself while pretending not to see like he used to do back then, he gathered all his courage and walked out of his pseudo hideout. He was already mentally prepared for Jiang Cheng’s yells and eyerolls, his probable threats with Zidian in between and probably some non intentional lashing out over the temple thing or Huaisang being an arrogant loser. He was prepared to take some beatings as long as he left his people in peace, putting an end to the frustration —more like tantrum— he was having.
And as he cleared his throat to announce himself —woah, did he actually do that? This was fun— the people surrounding Jiang Cheng flinched and moved away, with hushed gasps and words as they never really noticed what was going on outside of the heated, one-sided argument. Nie Huaisang was just… there, clutching his closed fan and slightly smiling.
“Sect Leader Jiang” he said, hiding his crippling fear very well under his trademark carefree smile. “What a lovely day to see you!”
He saw Jiang Cheng’s flinch. He saw him turning into stone. Busted.
But instead of meeting death itself with a threatening glare coming from the Lotus Leader, he stumbled upon a distressed and clearly startled face.
“N-Nie Huaisang…?!”
Yeah, well, not surprised. The fact that Nie Huaisang’s still standing in itself is something surprising to say the least, but… he still was taken aback for his former friend’s lack of yelling towards him when he was just about to scream into the void barely a minute ago.
“Well, yes, Honorable Leader. The one and only!” he said while chuckling lightly, to everyone’s shock (including Jiang Cheng). “What brought you into our market in such a beautiful day? I see you were looking for a fan in Mister Wu’s shop, huh… you do have taste in accessories, Sect Leader Jiang!” he finished, opening his fan while looking at him.
And when their gazes met, Huaisang saw it. The fear, the incredulity, the painful longing. Not rage, not annoyance. There was surprise in his eyes and embarrassment on his face. But what still surprised him the most was that his once intimidating, imposing figure while confronting Mister Wu completely shattered upon hearing Huaisang’s voice. Even his voice deflated to a medium volume, as if his aura had shrunk to the one of a lost youngster whose soul was still hurt with shards of a rough life and heartbreak.
Reading the mood, Huaisang gently made a sign for the people around them to leave and continue their duties. They hurriedly complied, to the point the street was barely crowded by the time that happened. He turned to look at Jiang Cheng once again and, softening his smile and look, he waved his fan so a soft breeze would caress his old friend’s inscrutable yet evident expression.
“I repeat myself”, he said warmly, his bravery taking over his damage control facade as he caught Jiang Cheng’s gaze in his. “What… what a lovely day to see you.”
He was already determined to fix whatever was needed to fix so Jiang Cheng could see him again as a friend, as a new brother, and a companion. Another stable pillar. Zidian wasn’t glowing and neither were his eyes, if more his constipated look had accentuated with his path clearing order but there was no rage, no resentment, so that meant he had succeeded on step one. The Lotus Leader was painfully quiet, as if someone suddenly had cut his tongue in the middle of cursing.
But it was supposed to be hard. Jiang Cheng himself was a difficult person to begin with. Why was it so easy? And why did Jiang Cheng look like that? He stared back at Huaisang not defiantly, but fragilely.
Was this his cry for help?