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“Huaisang.” Lan Xichen’s voice was soft, but Nie Huaisang flinched all the same. He flinched at everything these days.
“Yes, Er-ge?” he answered, struggling to smile. Lan Xichen would understand—it was close enough to the two year anniversary of Nie Mingjue’s death, so Nie Huaisang had an excuse for his dismal mood. He wished that really was the only thing troubling him, and that he could spend the anniversary in quiet, simple grief, like Nie Mingjue deserved.
But for the last week, since Nie Huaisang had found out the truth about his brother’s death, nothing had been simple.
“You know you’re important to me, right?” Lan Xichen asked, with an expression so soft it nearly hurt to look at. His hand found Nie Huaisang’s, big and warm and rough with callouses.
The question was too much for Nie Huaisang, who looked down at their intertwined hands but did not pull away. He didn’t know what to say, but he felt his false smile unfurl into something more real. He had been relieved, so relieved, to confirm that Lan Xichen hadn’t been a willing accomplice to Jin Guangyao, that he was still in the dark about everything. Nie Huaisang needed the comfort of a friend, even if he couldn’t tell that friend the truth. He heard Lan Xichen let out a soft huff of air—a sigh or a laugh, he wasn’t sure.
“Oh, Huaisang. I’m glad that made you smile,” Lan Xichen said, brushing a thumb across Nie Huaisang’s cheek. “I only ever want to see you smile. I wish I could make you happy every day.”
“Thank you, Er-ge,” Nie Huaisang whispered, squeezing his other hand. How could Lan Xichen be this sweet, this kind, after two years of watching Nie Huaisang bungle every aspect of sect leadership? Anyone else would be sick of him by now. Jin Guangyao still tolerated his ineptitude, but now Nie Huaisang knew that was only because his own weakness was to Lanling Jin’s advantage. His brother’s strength had been too much of a threat, and he was dead for it. Nie Huaisang knew he had to do something—he had to get justice, had to make Jin Guangyao suffer for what he’d done, somehow, but he didn’t even know where to begin. Jin Guangyao was so clever, so careful, and he was Chief Cultivator now.
Nie Huaisang wanted to tell Lan Xichen, wanted to unburden the whole terrifying story, but he couldn’t. Lan Xichen had never believed Nie Mingjue, after all, and Nie Huaisang didn’t have any solid proof. It would be his word against Jin Guangyao’s. And even if he did manage to convince Lan Xichen that he was telling the truth, Lan Xichen would want to bring the charges forward fairly, following due process. Nie Huaisang couldn’t risk that. Nie Mingjue was dead, Jin Guangshan was dead, and if Nie Huaisang’s hunch was correct, there would be more bodies the deeper he dug. He would not let himself become one of them.
There would be a cost to this plan. Lan Xichen loved Jin Guangyao, and Jin Guangyao had shown that he was only too happy to use that love. By staying silent, Nie Huaisang was letting Jin Guangyao keep up the charade and use Lan Xichen for whatever twisted games he wanted to play. Whenever Nie Huaisang made his move, Lan Xichen would find out that Nie Huaisang had let that happen. He’d find out that Nie Huaisang was just as much of a liar as Jin Guangyao.
But all he could do for now was sit here and let Lan Xichen comfort him, and dread the day the truth would come out.
“You’re so special to me, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen murmured. Nie Huaisang leaned into the hand on his cheek. “I want—I want to do something nice for you. Would you close your eyes for me?”
He sounded nervous, almost, and Nie Huaisang wondered why. Lan Xichen was never nervous—he was always calm and unflappable, every bit the perfect jade that everyone thought he was. But Nie Huaisang trusted him, and so he closed his eyes, curious what Lan Xichen was planning.
He didn’t realize what was happening at first, but the soft press of lips against his own was unmistakable once his mind caught up. Lan Xichen was kissing him, sweet and gentle and hesitant, and Nie Huaisang froze in shock.
No. No, no, this couldn’t be. Lan Xichen couldn’t be kissing him because that would mean he liked him. Maybe even loved him. And if that were true, then Lan Xichen’s feelings were deeper than Nie Huaisang had ever thought, deeper than he dreamed. Too deep. It would mean that Lan Xichen trusted him with every piece of himself. And it would mean that Nie Huaisang would be betraying that trust.
This changed nothing. This changed everything.
Despite every ounce of his brain screaming that he had to stop, that he had to let Lan Xichen down now before he hurt him too deeply to be forgiven… Nie Huaisang’s lips moved on their own, returning the kiss. He couldn’t stop himself. Not when he was getting what he’d always wanted and never thought he’d have.
“Huaisang?” Lan Xichen pulled back. “Oh, Huaisang, you’re… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have… without asking…”
Nie Huaisang opened his eyes. Lan Xichen’s face was a blur, and he blinked a few times. His eyelashes were wet, and he reached up to touch his own face.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Lan Xichen told him. He looked devastated.
“No,” Nie Huaisang said around the lump in his throat. When had that gotten there? “No, it’s not that… Er-ge, I’m happy, I’m crying because I’m so happy you feel that way too.”
“You are?” Lan Xichen asked, doubtful and still distressed, but with a glimmer of confused hope breaking through.
“Yes,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “Yes, I’m… I’ve always… Er-ge, I…” He couldn’t get his words straight at first, choking on the mix of lies and truth, but he took a deep breath. “I never thought you felt that way about me.”
Lan Xichen nodded hesitantly. “Yes. I wouldn’t have said anything, but I… I didn’t know what else to do. You’re so sad these days, and I can’t stand to see it.”
Nie Huaisang felt his tears redouble, but he gathered every drop of his self-control and put on the most brilliant smile he’d ever worn, hoping against hope that it would be enough to fool Lan Xichen.
“You’re making me so happy that I can’t stop crying,” he laughed. “You just can’t do anything by half, can you?”
Any lingering hint of doubt evaporated, and a return smile blossomed across Lan Xichen’s face, sweet and sunny and all too trusting.
Nie Huaisang pulled Lan Xichen down for another kiss. This would only end in disaster, he was sure, but for now he could lie to himself that this was real happiness.