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1. What else have we got to lose? A lot.
Nie Mingjue has been listening to the same three men argue about the pros and cons of rice taxation for the past two hours while Jin Guangshan sits there and watches like a lump of fools gold. Worthless.
If Lan Xichen doesn’t show up within the next few minutes, Nie Mingjue is just going to say fuck it. There’s no point in discussing politics when he has those Wen bastards knocking on his door every five minutes arguing about territory lines. Nie Mingjue would sooner die than let any Wen encroach upon Qinghe without a fight.
And oh look, Sect Leader Yao is speaking, yet again. Why is it that every time this man opens his mouth Nie Mingjue feels dumber? He’s surprised his eyes haven’t rolled out of their sockets at this point. How his father dealt with this bullshit for so long is something he’ll never be able to understand.
Sect Leader Wang is just about to rebut Sect Leader Yao’s accusation that “the Gods are conspiring against us and it’s your fault” because his sect “deserves” more respect and resources when he notices white entering the corner of his peripheral vision. He huffs. About damn time.
Lan Xichen practically floats into the room, graceful as ever when he greets his fellow Sect Leaders, fitting in perfectly despite the relative newness of his own title.
It’s not just the hard gleam in his eyes that tells Nie Mingjue this conference is about to get infinitely more interesting. No, the shadow of purple standing behind Xichen just off to the side, as if waiting for the proper time to strike, that what really gets him geared up.
As he tunes in to actually listen to what Xichen is saying, he can’t help but feel a certain sense of vindication. Here the First Jade of Lan is, ever noble and just, making a case against the Wens. About damn time.
Nie Mingjue has been trying to get these lazy fools to do something for months because there’s only so long the Nie Sect can fight alone, but he guesses it’s easier to digest when it’s coming from someone as pleasant and diplomatic as Xichen.
And the other sect leaders really shouldn’t be so shocked by this, especially after the burning of the Cloud Recesses. Especially after what happened to Lotus Pier.
It’s when the first indication of dissent arises that the purple shadow emerges, unnoticed until it’s too late.
Less like a shadow and more like a typhoon, the man Nie Mingjue recognizes as the previously assumed dead Jiang heir openly calls these men for what they are.
“-Do the lives of my family, my sect, my people mean nothing to you? What about the lives of your own people? Are you willing to sacrifice them for cowardice?”
“Of course not! Had the Jiang Sect just complied,” some no-name squawks.
“Compliance you say,” the Jiang kid’s eyes narrow and Nie Mingjue is already on the edge of his seat, “so you’ve lost your pride along with your humanity it seems”
“How dare you!” And there goes Sect Leader Yao again.
“I loathe to say it, but Yunmeng Jiang complied,” the young heir raises his voice, loud enough to be heard over the crowd, “We complied and tried to play nice, be the peacemakers just as you all so wisely suggest, but what did that get us?”
Nie Mingjue can see another insensitive prick about to open his mouth. Luckily, Xichen interjects. Had he been successful, the Jiang kid- no, the new Jiang Sect Leader probably would have strangled the man, if the sparks slithering up his arm are any indication.
“We have all heard of the atrocities committed by the Wen Sect, many of us here have even experienced it first-hand.” Xichen begins calmly, “The truth of the matter is that we cannot predict what Wen Ruohan has planned next when his only goal is escalation.”
“First the Nie Sect,” Xichen looks at him, and then continues around the room, making eye-contact with each leader present. “They have expressed unease multiple times as the Wen Sect made attempts to invade upon their territory; they warned us of their intentions. We did not listen.”
“Next was Gusu.” Lan Xichen pauses for a moment to collect himself, Nie Mingjue can see the slight tremble in his hands as he forges on. “I had to watch my people flee with their children and only the clothes on their backs to escape the scorching flames engulfing their homes. I, myself, had to flee in an effort to preserve centuries of knowledge and culture. An act that haunts me to this day for I would have much rather fought for my people. We asked for help, you did not listen.”
“And then the Jiang Sect.” Xichen looks to the side at the new Sect Leader, thrust into the position much too young.
“What can I even say-” his voice breaks slightly, “I should hope I do not need to explain how utterly vile what happened that night was. What continues to happen within the walls of Lotus Pier.”
Nie Mingjue commends the Jiang kid. He’s been firmly maintaining eye-contact with anyone who dares look his way. Not once has he flinched away from the assessing eyes, not once has he shown weakness.
“Three of the five major sects,” Xichen continues, “the time for asking has long ended. Are you going to listen?”
And that’s Nie Mingjue’s cue.
He cuts through the silence. “I agree with Sect Leader Lan and Sect Leader Jiang.” Forty eyes turn his way.
“And I’m not as nice as Xichen so I’ll just say it. There’s a reason we’re called “Great” and you lot are not.” He points at them, he doesn’t care if it's rude or that they’re all twice his age or more. He’s long stopped caring about what those men think of him.
“Half of you rely on us for protection. Either support us and help take those sons of bitches down, or watch the consequences of your own weakness.”
Nie Mingjue rises from his seat, bows to Xichen, bows to Jiang Wanyin. “Sect Leader Lan, Sect Leader Jiang.”
When he rises he makes eye-contact with the youngest of them all, “You have my support, no matter what.”
2. To mourn
The days have been grueling and morale is getting lower by the hour.
Nie Mingjue has heard about wars, how could he not, but never has he actually participated in one. Never has he had to lead one. It is tiresome and Nie Mingjue has seen enough death to last him a lifetime. It’s been a year since the start of the Sunshot Campaign.
They’re making their way along the border of Yunmeng and Qishan, Sect Leader Jiang heading the group, with Nie Mingjue mere steps behind him. They’re supposed to be meeting with Xichen at some point, but he thinks it might be better to set up camp at this point.
Suddenly, Sect Leader Jiang stops. “Something’s wrong.”
Nie Mingjue blinks, “Explain.”
“The markers are gone. Expect an ambush.”
Okay then. Nie Mingjue has always been a fan of brevity, he appreciates that his ally utilizes it well. He sends a signal down to the back of the group and they all shift into position, hands on hilts.
The first arrow that comes aims for a newly minted member of the Jiang Sect.
A wave of red.
It starts.
...
Nie Mingjue has often been told that he rivals a force of nature when he fights, those people have obviously never seen Sect Leader Jiang in action. He wields both his sword and Zidian expertly for his age, and the Yunmeng style pairs with his own rather well.
One by one red begins to fall, seeping into the forest floor.
This group was smaller than the others and lacking in experience, but they still managed to do some damage.
Nie Mingjue looks at the bodies littering the ground, counts his casualties, and prays for their souls. Sect Leader Jiang does the same for his men.
Seven of theirs were lost, two of his and five from Yunmeng.
Sect Leader Jiang kneels down by a particular body, purple soaked in so much red it’s almost black. Ah, the young Jiang disciple from earlier. He looks to be a few years younger than even the Jiang Sect leader (a few years younger than his brother too, his mind adds). Nie Mingjue curses the Wens once more.
He signals the rest of the men to begin retrieval as he goes to stand in front of Sect Leader Jiang’s trembling back, as he clutches the robes of another brother lost.
Nie Mingjue is tired.
3. Watch out
Nie Mingjue has visited Lotus Pier several times since the end of the campaign, and each time he cannot help but feel impressed by how much it has changed. It has only been a few months since his last visit, and already all of the foundations are built, Nie Mingjue notes as he is led towards where the man he’s come to visit is. It comes as no surprise when he and his guide finally find him crouched on a roof somewhere; hammer in hand and nails in his mouth.
“Sect Leader!” his head pops up, searching for the voice that called out to him and Nie Mingjue stifles a snort, Huaisang was right when he said Jiang Wanyin could be quite...puppy-like.
When he finally spots them, he takes the nails out of his mouth and the Jiang disciple bows, “Sect Leader Nie has come.”
Blue eyes lock onto his own, and Nie Mingjue bows his head in greeting. “Sect Leader Jiang” does the same.
Nie Mingjue would like to think that they’ve become somewhat friendly over the past few years, so it only amuses him when his fellow leader calls out, “Are you gonna stand there or help me build this roof?” This time he does snort, it seems he will be dealing with “Jiang Wanyin” today. Good.
“What a way to treat your elders,” he says as he dutifully makes his way onto the roof. He’s glad he wore practical-wear this time.
“I apologize. Sect Leader Nie, please be useful and help me finish this roof,” a smirk, “better?”
Nie Mingjue huffs, “Gods, you’re such a brat. No wonder you and Huaisang get along so well.”
“Oh please, at least I didn’t ask you to help restore the paintings,” he says with a roll of his eyes, “Enough chit-chat. No freeloaders in Lotus Pier.”
“Yessir, Sect Leader Jiang, sir” Nie Mingjue mock salutes as he gets to work.
They work in silence for the most part. Nie Mingjue focuses on securing much of the structure, while Jiang Wanyin works on the roof paneling. If Nie Mingjue hears slight humming as they work, well, it only makes the day more pleasant.
...
The sun is almost setting by the time the two of them finish.
Nie Mingjue begins collecting the tools while Jiang Wanyin puts the final touches on the last panel. “I hope I’ll at least get some food for all my efforts,” Nie Mingjue says over his shoulder as he tosses the tools to the ground. It earns him a chuckle.
“When have you ever come to Lotus Pier and not eaten a village’s worth of food?” Jiang Wanyin retorts.
“Street food is one thing, but I’ve been craving that dish you used to make at the camps, you know, the spicy one. Think you could put it together?” Nie Mingjue asks, eyebrows slightly raised, eyes hopeful.
Jiang Wanyin pretends to think about it, makes a whole scene of it with his hand on his chin and everything. “Hmm, I think I can manage that,” he says as he makes his way to Nie Mingjue on the corner of the roof, “as long as you brought some good wine, that is,” he finishes, showing a rare smile.
Nie Mingjue scoffs to cover his breath catching, “Who do you think I am?” He turns to look out at the rest of Lotus Pier, just for good measure, and Jiang Wanyin does the same.
The sun has just about set as lanterns begin to light up the night. It’s quiet. It’s peaceful.
“We should head down,” Nie Mingjue murmurs, reluctant to leave the view behind. From the corner of his eye, he can see Jiang Wanyin nod.
Just as they begin to make their way down, a crack sounds through the night and Jiang Wanyin’s foot is sliding out from under him, knee buckling. Nie Mingjue acts on instinct, reaching out to the younger man and pulling him back towards himself.
They stand there for a few tense moments, Jiang Wanyin’s back to his chest, hands clutching the arm circling his waist.
“I guess I need to add more support to that part of the roof,” is what breaks the silence, hushed.
“Mn. We’ll work on it tomorrow morning.” Nie Mingjue responds, just as low. He can feel Jiang Wanyin nodding.
Slowly, Jiang Wanyin regains his footing and Nie Mingjue’s hand releases from around his waist, reluctantly sliding off. Jiang Wanyin lets go of his arm, too.
They make their way off the roof.
Quickly, Jiang Wanyin’s composure returns.
Quickly, Nie Mingjue tries to forget what it felt like to have the younger man in his arms.
4. Nie Huaisaing.
Nie Mingjue doesn’t know what he was expecting when he went to go look for Nie Huaisang, but it definitely wasn’t whatever...this is.
Currently, his little brother is clutching onto Wanyin’s legs- in a rather impressive hold- while screaming something about broken promises and-
“I already told you that was a one-time thing!”
Well. That can’t be good.
Before his brother can fully metamorphose into a koala, Nie Mingue decides to make his presence known. By rather loudly clearing his throat.
What greets him are the faces of two men caught red-handed, doing what, Nie Mingjue isn’t quite sure, but he knows he’s about to find out.
“Nie-”
“Da-ge-”
Nie Mingjue holds up a hand. He can already feel a headache brewing, but if someone has cheated his little brother, then he can’t stand idly by, even if the cheater is someone that he’s become rather fond of. Now, to approach this situation diplomatically.
“What the fuck?” Apparently, that’s the best he can come up with.
“Da-ge, Jiang-xiong promised he’d be my model but he keeps going back-”
Wait, what.
“I already modeled for you when we were students! Plus, I was drunk-”
Now that’s...
“Being drunk doesn’t change the fact that it was a promise. And who said it was a one-time thing? And you wore clothes! You promised-”
Fuck.
Nie Mingjue feels as if he’s been blindsided, just a bit. Wanyin modeled? Jiang Wanyin? For his brother? He can’t even begin to imagine how that came about- although, obviously alcohol was involved. And now that it’s out there, he can’t help but think that Wanyin would have looked absolutely- Oh, he’s being looked at. Expectantly. Again. He sighs.
“Huaisang, let Jiang Wanyin go, we’ve important business to discuss.”
He ignores the disappointment he feels at the thought of being unable to sneak a peek at Huaisang’s finished piece, especially when he notices relief flood Wanyin’s face.
“But Da-ge!”
“No.”
He watches the little brat untangle himself from Wanyin’s legs, huffing and puffing his way out of the room, complaining about disrespect and “whatever happened to bros before…”
Nie Mingjue squints at his brother in suspicion, nose scrunched. He better not have been-
A cough breaks him out of imagining the various ways he can torture a confession out of the little betrayer.
There’s a flush high on Wanyin’s cheeks, he tries to compose himself and Nie Mingjue lets him.
He clears his throat and bows, “I’m sorry you had to see that...and thanks for saving me from your brother-” Nie Mingjue wouldn’t have been able to stop the laugh that burst out even if he tried, “-what business did you want to discuss?”
“Don’t worry about it, Wanyin. You aren’t his first victim, and I doubt you’ll be his last.” Wanyin cocks his head to the side. Nie Mingjue’s heart stutters at how cute the display is. He continues, “And there wasn’t any business. You just looked uncomfortable.”
“Ah. Well,” a cough, another flush. “Thank you, again.”
“However,” Wanyin’s shoulder’s tense minutely, “if you have time, Wanyin, I wouldn’t mind a sparring partner.”
Wanyin snorts and the tension bleeds away. “Of course,” he motions with his hand, “lead the way.”
5. Help
How do you help someone when you can’t even help yourself?
Nie Mingjue knows he’s going to die soon.
He feels it, every time. His qi is eating him from the inside out, slowly breaking down his core and driving him insane.
He doesn’t understand. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, everything’s moving too fast. For fuck’s sake, he’s only twenty-four.
But he can’t help it.
More and more he feels himself slipping. Lan Xichen is doing what he can, Huaisang has started scouring the archives and bringing him “home remedies” (he hasn’t mentioned anything, but he knows his brother isn’t as dumb as he claims to be), and even Jin Guangyao has tried to play for him. Yet nothing seems to calm the rage quickly overwhelming his soul.
And Wanyin… Nie Mingjue hasn’t dared to see him in months, afraid of ever losing himself in the other’s presence. Nie Mingjue knows he tries to hide it, but Wanyin hasn’t been the same since the siege (no one has, really). The only things keeping him afloat are Jin Ling and his overwhelming sense of duty to his people.
Nie Mingjue refuses to give him another burden.
All he can do at this point is to try and manage what comes his way, avoid the things he knows trigger his deviations, and hope for the best. He’s not good at hoping. He knows this.
Huaisang knows this.
So why the fuck is Wanyin standing in the middle of his chambers arms crossed, demanding answers?
He looks horrible, dark welts under dull eyes, face a pallid color. Nie Mingjue can’t even judge though, he’s sure he looks more living corpse than human at this point.
“You shouldn’t be here,” is what he says instead.
Wanyin flinches, eyes widening in disbelief. “‘You shouldn’t be here,’ that’s all you have to say? After months of silence? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
And that's the golden question, isn't it?
Unfortunately, Nie Mingjue can already feel what brittle patience beginning to thin, can already feel the anger begin to build. If Wanyin doesn’t leave soon, he’s not sure what will happen. “I’m sure whatever Huaisang told you was an exaggeration. You should leave,” he grits out between clenched teeth. Fingers already digging marks into his hands.
“Huaisang didn’t tell me shit other than that you’re being a stubborn asshole.”
“Excuse me?” He seethes. Nie Mingjue can feel his qi fluctuating dangerously, and by the looks of it, so can Wanyin because he looks at him warily, and takes a hesitant step back. “I need you to leave.”
This is it, this is his last-ditch effort to get Wanyin as far away from him as possible before he loses all remaining control and rationality.
Wanyin’s eyes go cold, looking more like ice than the warm pools of water Nie Mingjue is so familiar with.
“No.”
The thread snaps.
…
…
…
When Nie Mingjue comes to, he notices two things immediately.
One, he can’t move anything from his neck down. And there’s a sharp sting at the slightest of twitches.
Two, there’s an incessant fucking ding sound that doesn’t seem to stop.
Nie Mingjue manages to peel his eyes open and is greeted by one of his worst nightmares. His room is almost completely destroyed. There’s debris everywhere and blood splattered across the floor. Any residual anger drains from him; he feels sick. He’s going to be-
“It was one of the disciples, he’s fine. There are more, by the way, standing outside.”
Nie Mingjue whips his head to the side, as much as he can, and sees Wanyin, his Wanyin, looking bloody and bruised, but alive. Very much alive. Nie Mingjue thanks every god he believes in that Wanyin is still breathing, that he didn’t just kill one of the two people he swore he’d never lay a hand on.
“Do you want to tell me what the fuck that was all about or do you want me to tell you what my theory is?”
Nie Mingjue goes to move and is once again reminded why he shouldn’t when he feels a sharp sting race across his spine; he looks down. Well, that explains some of it. Zidian is wrapped around his entire body. He sighs. Ding.
“Wanyin...” Nothing. He finds there’s nothing for him to say. His head drops to avoid eye contact.
“Okay, then,” Wanyin crosses his arms once more, “What do you need?”
A beat. “What?”
“What do you need? Do you know why this is happening? What have you tried? Is there anything else we can do? We have this practice in Yunmeng-” Jiang Wanyin goes on.
Nie Mingjue feels immense fondness surge for the man in front of him, but he knows it’s too late. “Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue calls, but he’s so lost in his mind, pacing back and forth that he doesn’t hear him. “Wanyin,” he tries again, a bit louder. Nothing.
“Cheng’er.”
Ah, that gets his attention. “We’ve already tried everything. There’s nothing left.”
Wanyin glares at him even as tears well in his eyes, the dinging increases. “No...No! You’ve tried everything, we haven’t,” he motions between them, motions to the disciples outside the door. "I haven’t. I haven’t even started and I bet A-Sang isn’t done yet either. I refuse to let you give up. I refuse to let you just die like this.”
Wanyin rubs furiously at his eyes, and even if he can’t move, Nie Mingjue yearns to reach out and hold him. To wipe away his tears and assure him that things will be fine. But he can’t.
“Wanyin-"
“No, what happened to ‘Cheng’er’? You haven’t even let me try to help, don’t tell me I can’t.” Nie Mingjue feels Zidian loosen and sees it return to its owner. “You know what my sect’s motto is.”
Nie Mingjue does. He’s seen Wanyin attempt the impossible, seen him conquer it. But Nie Mingjue has also seen the toll it’s taken on him. “I won’t be another burden on your shoulders, Cheng’er,” he says. He’s been released, but he refuses to move from where he is on the floor.
“Shut up, that’s not your decision to make.” Wanyin moves closer, kneels in front of him with hands that reach up and cup his cheeks, “I want to help, please let me try. I can’t lose you too, Ming-ge.”
Nie Mingjue has always been regarded as a beacon of strength, but he’s never felt weaker than he does right now.
“I hurt you,” he tries.
“You didn’t. I’m stronger than you think.” The wounds on his body tell a different story, but Wanyin’s right hand slides to the back of his neck and he's forced to look at him. To see him. The dings stop at once, all Nie Mingjue can hear is Wanyin, all he can see, is Wanyin. “Let me help."
He sighs for what feels like the hundredth time this night. He doesn’t think that anything will change, but still-
"Okay,” he says as he leans his forehead against the man he's come to cherish and looks into warm eyes once more.
“Okay, Cheng’er. Help me.”