Work Text:
As Jin Guangyao sits before him, Nie Huaisang really thinks he could kill him.
It probably wouldn’t be easy. Even though he had a late start cultivating, Guangyao is still stronger than him and certainly more duplicitous. If Huaisang’s investigations have proven anything so far, it’s that this man is no stranger to underhanded tricks. Even if Huaisang could overpower him physically, he’s sure he’d still end up the loser.
So, Huaisang does the one thing he can do to win – he smiles, vapid, innocent, a familiar appearance from the days when Guangyao was, in all but name, a Nie.
It works like a charm. Guangyao’s shoulders relax as his smile becomes pleasantly exasperated. “Are you following, Huaisang?” he asks.
Huaisang looks down, plays with his hands in his lap, drags a tooth over his bottom lip. “Sorry, san-ge, there was so much information, I lost track!”
Guangyao chuckles, mellifluous. The sound brings back a memory unbidden, of a softer Meng Yao, fresh to his position as vice-commander, still unsure of where he stood and how he should act, finally losing his composure in the face of the Nie brothers arguing over whether Huaisang could also have a vice-commander. A lump rises in Huaisang’s throat at the memory, but he is quick to swallow it down.
“I was suggesting our marriage, A-Sang,” Guangyao repeats. His eyes dart away at the word ‘marriage’, the perfect picture of shyness. That action alone is enough to earn him a blade in the throat, especially in addition to the use of an old nickname he hasn’t had the right to since the moment he thought to murder Mingjue. “You are da-ge’s only heir, yet you remain unmarried and without an heir of your own.” He bows his head slightly, an action of deference that begs Huaisang’s unbiased contemplation. “All it would take is your death for Qinghe Nie to be thrown into a power vacuum, which could be used by any of your enemies.”
Enemies like Jin Guangshan, or even Jin Guangyao.
For what is probably the twentieth time that day, Huaisang restrains himself from tearing off all of Guangyao’s extremities.
He lifts his fan to cover his mouth, pinching his eyebrows together. “That’s terrible, san-ge! I really don’t know what I would do if my life was ever put at risk like that.” He looks away, toward the window, fan fluttering a slight bit faster as he says, “I can’t imagine Qinghe falling to pieces just because I’m not there.”
He returns his gaze. Guangyao’s smile is calming and sweet. “I know I may not be your first choice—” he isn’t, “—but our marriage would be beneficial for us both.” He begins listing the benefits, again, and Huaisang tunes him out.
Huaisang knows all he can gain from this, of course. Qinghe Nie would profit from the increased trade and the financial protection inherent in any political alliance with Lanling Jin. Moreover, it would elevate Huaisang’s status in the cultivation world, from the helpless Headshaker to the husband of a Jin heir with enough political ties to decimate a small nation. Best of all would be direct access to Guangyao and information on his schemes. If he plays his cards right, Huaisang could have Guangyao’s head within the year.
But then there are the risks, and those are insurmountable. Be it by coercion, manipulation, or bribery, Guangyao would easily turn some of Huaisang’s disciples into watchdogs, in the name of keeping his “precious husband” safe. Then there is the risk of being in Koi Tower. Huaisang knows Guangyao would protect his identity, refer to him as husband in all circumstances, regardless of any rebuke he may face—that part of Meng Yao, at least, has not been twisted and tainted in Lanling. But for any public ceremonies, perhaps even including cultivation conferences, Huaisang would be expected to play the role of wife, dressed prettily with breasts unbound and lips painted. Only one of those he really objects to, but it is enough to put bile in his throat.
Worst of all would be those wifely duties. Huaisang is no stranger to sex, no stranger to what is expected of him and his uterus. He has no qualms, really, with bearing children. He knows his duty to the Nie bloodline, knows how wonderful it would be to have a child of his own. He looks down at Guangyao’s hands, folded politely on his lap, and remembers deft fingers on the guqin showing him the Song of Clarity that he played for Mingjue. Remembers blood. Remembers watching Baxia be swung into thin air. Remembers losing everything.
No. Huaisang would sooner cut out his uterus than allow Guangyao the right of calling him husband.
“What do you think, A-Sang?”
Huaisang closes his fan, lowers it to rest against his knee. He sighs into a laugh. “I really don’t know what to think!” he exclaims, merry. “The way you put it, san-ge, I think it’d be best to follow your lead!” He leans back, ducks his head. “But…”
“But…? Go on, A-Sang.”
Huaisang lifts his fan again, opens it to hide the lower half of his face. He looks down at the floor and says, “I had been hoping to re-open marriage negotiations with Jiang-xiong for a while now.”
It is only somewhat of a lie. Those negotiations were opened during the Sunshot Campaign, pressured upon Mingjue by Huaisang’s obvious crush and his own intimate knowledge of how it was to become sect leader so young. But then there were closed when Wei Wuxian became the Yiling Patriarch, and Mingjue couldn’t trust that Jiang Cheng could keep Huaisang safe. But Huaisang’s feelings only fledged into a deep love that he poured into countless letters and presents exchanged with Jiang Cheng. Before Mingjue’s death, Huaisang was close to offering up his hand in marriage again. But now, it seems, he’ll have to speed up his timetable.
He sneaks a glance at Guangyao. The man is disappointed for a moment, but then he is delighted. He is smart, after all, and knows how not to waste an opportunity. Any losses accrued by not making Huaisang his husband would certainly be compensated by putting two sects in his debt.
“I see,” Guangyao says, his smile turning demure. “While I am disappointed that you cannot consider me your husband, Huaisang, I would be happy to facilitate marriage negotiations between you and Sect Leader Jiang.”
Huaisang closes his fan again and breaks into an open-mouthed smile. “You would do this for me, san-ge? Thank you!”