Chapter Text
The death of Nie Mingjue is not a good death. There are innocent bodies to collect that aren't his, and those closest to him had witnessed it. Jiang Cheng personally knows about how these sorts of deaths are; maybe that's why all he can think about is Lan Xichen, who must be suffering deeply. Lan Xichen is strong, of course, but a death like this would shake even the strongest.
Jiang Cheng had been attending the martial arts conference like many of the other sect leaders, but he hadn't been present at the time of Nie Mingjue's qi deviation. He'd made it there soon enough to see the aftermath before it had been cleaned up, however. Soon enough to see Lan Xichen, face colorless, blood on the bottom hem of his robes, hiding Nie Huaisang's face against his chest - Jin Guangyao, tears silently rolling down his cheeks, his robes pristine - Nie Mingue's fallen sword covered in blood and, down the hall, a trail of bodies.
Any sect leaders that weren't present arrive shortly given the seriousness of the news. Nie Huaisang is given the mantle of sect leader, and everyone but those three most affected talk about what's next as though this is not a tragedy but an inconvenience. Jin Guangyao sits incredibly close to Lan Xichen and is constantly touching him, and Jiang Cheng hates how jealousy swells in him at this. He and Lan Xichen are nothing more than friends, and there are significantly more pressing matters than his feelings and memories of kisses he claimed meant nothing. Even so, he excuses himself for air when the conversation devolves into nothing worth caring about, unable to watch them anymore. His mind, of course, remains on Lan Xichen.
He stares up at the moon in the courtyard and feels miserable and angry because of course none of what is going on now is good, but also because it brings up so many memories that he doesn't want of his own loss. Wouldn't it be nice if something just worked out ok, for once? Zidian flickers and crackles, giving him away, if anyone were around. Which, apparently, someone is.
"Sect Leader Jiang."
Lan Xichen's voice is soft and starts out even, but the final part of his title comes out a little broken. Jiang Cheng turns around to see him, expecting Jin Guangyao to be attached to his side but finding him alone. It's a relief, but not one that really sticks given the situation.
"Zewu-Jun. I'm…" he trails off, looking down, strength seeming to drain from his body. What is he supposed to say? Even having experienced difficulties like these himself, he's drawing a blank, and finally just offers, "I'm sorry."
Somehow, it seems as though he's done something a little right. As his eyes lift he sees the ghost of a smile on Lan Xichen's lips, expression grateful.
"Let's go on a walk."
Jiang Cheng simply nods, and Lan Xichen starts to walk, and he falls in step with him. If one didn't know better, it would seem like the other sect leader was totally fine - the only real difference is that he wears all white with none of his usual hints of blue. It's not strange to see a Lan sect member dressed in such a way, though, so at a glance this is simply Lan Xichen, walking quietly alongside a companion on a night like any other in the Unclean Realm. Where he gets his poise is a bit of a mystery to Jiang Cheng, who carries his grief so obviously in his shoulders and steps.
Even if Lan Xichen seems fine, though, it's impossible that he is fine. Unsure of what to do, Jiang Cheng, after a short while, settles for walking just a little closer than he normally would, so that their shoulders occasionally touch. Lan Xichen doesn't acknowledge it but he doesn't move away, either. Initiating more contact seems wrong, given their history, so it's left at this. The longer they walk, the more normal everything seems, enough so that finally Jiang Cheng gets the courage to look over to Lan Xichen. His face is still much too pale, and he can see now that his eyes are a little red, a reminder that none of this is actually normal.
He's going to say something - he has to say something - but there's a sound behind them, around some corner, and Jin Guangyao's voice calls out for Lan Xichen. Jiang Cheng nearly curses, but he doesn't have a chance to. Lan Xichen grabs him by the front of his robes very suddenly and pulls him around the side of one of the compound's buildings. They're pressed together, Lan Xichen with his back to the wall and Jiang Cheng up against him, held there securely by the other sect leader's grip on his robes. They're both silent, and Jin Guangyao can be seen passing them by, none the wiser to their presence, still searching for his sworn brother.
Jiang Cheng's heart is pounding, and he's certain he can feel Lan Xichen's as well, off-beat from his but just as strong. Lan Xichen's fingers, where they hold his robes, are curled a little in between the cross of fabric, dangerously close to his skin. Lan Xichen smells like mourning incense and jasmine.
"Sorry," Lan Xichen murmurs once Jin Guangyao is certainly far enough away, but he doesn't release him. Jiang Cheng shifts the smallest amount, pressing his forehead to the wall next to Lan Xichen's head for a moment, arms braced on either side of his hips but not touching him. His heart rate refuses to come down.
"It's alright."
"I know he's hurting too, but I can't see him right now."
"It's alright," Jiang Cheng repeats, embarrassed by the skip of satisfaction in his heart at this. He doesn't want to be around Jin Guangyao, but he wants to be around him. But, of course, Jin Guangyao is a reminder of Nie Mingjue. Jiang Cheng is nothing. The momentary elation disappears as quickly as it had come.
Eventually, the other sect leader presses his face to Jiang Cheng's shoulder, and this somehow feels like permission to do what he'd been wanting to since the moment he'd heard the news of Nie Mingjue's death. Slowly, Jiang Cheng shifts so he's hugging Lan Xichen, and the other man exhales into his robes, his breath a dull heat through the fabric.
"It could have been worse," Lan Xichen says, trying to convince himself. "He could have hurt Yao or Huaisang."
"That doesn't mean it's not terrible," Jiang Cheng counters and quickly thinks maybe he shouldn't have. Even though it maybe wasn't the right thing to say, it's met with a small nod and an almost-even tone.
"Mm, it doesn't mean it's not terrible."
There's a moment where Lan Xichen lifts his head a little, and Jiang Cheng can feel a hint of his breath on his neck, and he thinks maybe the other man will kiss him on this warmed skin. His entire body is tense, but nothing happens. Lan Xichen, slowly, releases his robes and pulls free from his arms and shifts to the side, no longer backed against the wall. His cheeks are a little wet, and he suddenly bows, startling Jiang Cheng.
"I apologize for being out of sorts, Sect Leader Jiang."
Just as abruptly as he'd pulled away, just as abruptly as he'd bowed, Lan Xichen turns to go. Jiang Cheng reaches out and catches his hand thoughtlessly, finding that he doesn't have to think about what to say.
"You don't need to apologize for any of this."
Lan Xichen doesn't turn to look at him, but does gently tug at his hand; it's quickly apparent that he's not trying to free himself, though, because he laces their fingers together as he pulls. He's trying to lead him. Jiang Cheng looks down at their intertwined fingers, wondering a little when the last time he held someone's hand that wasn't Jin Ling's like this, and allows himself to be led.
They move through the compound quietly, and they don't hear or see Jin Guangyao again. They end at a large hall with the doors wide open and lights burning inside, surrounding a coffin. This is where Nie Mingjue lies. No one else is around but the guards, and that's the only reason Jiang Cheng, who is a coward, doesn't try to free his hand from Lan Xichen's. Well, maybe not the only reason - he surely has enough courage to do this for his friend right now, doesn't he? He tells himself this, at least.
They both enter, Jiang Cheng still trailing behind, their hands still joined even as they kneel side by side. Unsurprisingly, this coffin looks larger than life. Baxia lies in front of it, still stained with blood, giving it an even more imposing feel.
"Mingjue," Lan Xichen starts, but that's where he ends as well. After a quick squeeze of Jiang Cheng's hand he disentangles their fingers and bows before going to light incense. Jiang Cheng follows suit. And then they sit, quietly, for a long time. Jiang Cheng's mind is blissfully blank during all of this, focused on the coffin before them and not the body next to him that remains firmly upright and unwavering. Well, maybe his mind does stray a few times to Lan Xichen. He wants to reach out and take his hand again but doesn't.
Eventually, Lan Xichen pulls himself to his feet, unbalanced and swaying, and looks at Jiang Cheng. There's almost a sense of peace around him for a moment, but his eyes flit to Baxia and it's gone. Even so, he forces a smile that makes Jiang Cheng's brows draw in, though he remains silent.
As they leave they pass Nie Huaisang, who looks distant and ill, and Jiang Cheng wonders if he should say or do something. They hadn't been particularly close - in Jiang Cheng's mind he'd been Wei Wuxian's friend and not his - but still, they'd spent a lot of time together all those years ago. Jiang Cheng is not good at comfort, however, so he simply says the other young man's name and remains at Lan Xichen's side as they all come to a stop. The Lan sect leader gently touches Nie Huaisang's shoulder and Nie Huaisang, for a moment, takes a hold of his trailing sleeve before going inside. Lan Xichen watches him go.
"You should get some sleep, Zewu-Jun," Jiang Cheng gently urges, noticing the tilt and coil of Lan Xichen's body that suggests he's about to follow the newly minted sect leader.
"But Huaisang…"
"Will want some time to himself. It's better if you sleep now."
The breath that Lan Xichen pulls in hitches. Jiang Cheng reaches out to take his hand again so he can lead him to his rooms, and Lan Xichen goes along with him.
Once they arrive, Jiang Cheng begins helping Lan Xichen get ready - this sort of methodical, emotionally-blank work is easy for him, much easier than trying to provide emotional support, so it eases his mind a bit. He fetches water, helps Lan Xichen take his hair down, fingers barely avoiding his forehead ribbon, and lays out his clothes. He gets him settled into bed, and watches as Lan Xichen rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, eyes wide open. He looks as though he's about to say something, but instead he just reaches out to take Jiang Cheng's arm, and pulls.
Again, Jiang Cheng's heart is racing. This is a bad idea. Jiang Cheng knows it, and Lan Xichen must too. There's nothing overly scandalous about lying down together, of course, except that they're both adults, men, sect leaders. They have no reason to be sharing a bed, and it feels more intimate than their kisses in the past. Even so, Jiang Cheng, without much force from Lan Xichen, lies down a little stiffly next to his friend. Lan Xichen turns and presses himself into Jiang Cheng within moments, arms wound around him and lips against the fabric of his robes, over his pounding heart.
Jiang Cheng once again feels Lan Xichen's breath through the fabric of his robes, a brand on the skin beneath, and considers pulling away. But when he'd been so miserable, would it have been better if someone had done this for him? He'd lashed out at Wei Wuxian instead, had become blank and empty. Maybe that wasn't right, and maybe this is; it's hard to know. Ultimately, he is weak, and he wants this too, so he succumbs. His arms wrap around Lan Xichen, and he can feel a bit of dampness on his chest even though Lan Xichen is silent and unmoving.
As is often the case, Jiang Cheng feels himself becoming frustrated and angry. Angry that this happened to Lan Xichen, that it happened to Nie Mingjue, that something that hurt as much had happened to him. He's angry that Lan Wangji isn't here, and that Wei Wuxian isn't here either. He's angry that he doesn't know how to help Lan Xichen and that he wants to be something for him that he can't be. So many terrible things keep happening, and as usual everything feels completely out of his control. He's tangled up in these thoughts when Lan Xichen speaks.
"I shouldn't have expected anything different. I knew something had changed, something was different about Mingjue. I should have known-"
"Zewu-Jun, shut up. Expecting this or not doesn't help anything. You'd be miserable either way."
His voice is harsh enough that Lan Xichen lifts his head from his chest, and Jiang Cheng wants to crawl out of his skin; he is too difficult, he is not equipped for this, he will only make this worse for someone he cares deeply about. He should leave. Before he can put that thought into action though, Lan Xichen smiles, genuine despite its shakiness.
"I knew you were the right person to run to. Mingjue probably would have told me to shut up, too."
He settles back against Jiang Cheng's chest with a weak exhale, and Jiang Cheng tries to force his body to unwind for Lan Xichen's sake.