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“I was thinking.” Wei Wuxian slings an arm around Nie Huaisang’s shoulders and starts tugging him into another direction. The other disciples around them don’t take notice – or give them a wide berth. It’s still early in the day, golden morning sunlight casting a glow over the white pavilions, and hint of chill lingering in the air. Breakfast awaits first, then lectures. “We should go on a little excursion today.”
“Huh?” Nie Huaisang returns. Wei Wuxian is unusually chipper for the early hour, and Jiang Cheng fails to protest the irresponsible suggestion. “Why?”
“Huaisang-xiong, Huaisang-xiong,” Wei Wuxian mock-scolds. “Do you really want to spend your birthday listening to old man Lan lecture? I know I’ll get wrinkles just from listening to him repeating the fundamentals of talisman script again.”
Realistically speaking, Nie Huaisang should attend that class. He’s not as bad at talismans as at some other subjects, but his inclination towards calligraphy doesn’t lend itself to producing talismans. However, it is his birthday, and for all Nie Huaisang is used to spending it mostly alone or just not celebrating, he likes the idea.
“Wei-xiong,” he says, a grin spreading over his face. “I like the way you think.”
“Great! A-Cheng, you got everything?” Wei Wuxian cheerfully drags Nie Huaisang toward a side courtyard. Jiang Cheng follows, and if Nie Huaisang is correct, his grimace at Wei Wuxian’s nickname isn’t as outraged as usual.
“Yes, yes,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “We all know you’d be forgetting to wear pants if no one would remind you.”
The squabble a bit more and instinctively all other disciples duck out of their way. Nie Huaisang spots Jin Zixuan look their way from a distance. He’d always remembered to send a birthday greeting Huaisang’s way. But as Nie Huaisang finds himself sandwiched between Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, even the bold Jin Zixuan does not dare to approach.
“Where are we going?” Nie Huaisang asks, when instead of using a familiar path to sneak out, the side courtyard they wander into is closed off by a rock wall. Wei Wuxian grins, Jiang Cheng gives a more indulgent smile.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Oh,” Nie Huaisang replies, surprised. Huh, he’d thought the two had somehow recalled his birthday this morning and spontaneously decided to sneak into town. This – the way Wei Wuxian uses chalk to draw something on the ground – makes it look like they spent time preparing. Which makes this a gift of a dimension he doesn’t really know how to handle.
“It won’t be dangerous or anything,” Jiang Cheng hastens to reassure. “And we’ll be back before dinner, too.”
Nie Huaisang laughs. “Ah, I’m not worried,” he says. Because if there’s one thing he has hardened to, it is getting yelled at. With Nie Mingjue for a brother, Lan Qiren’s scolding sounds like motivational speeches. “And you both have swords. I’ll simply hide behind you.”
Jiang Cheng grimaces at that. He double checks, and no, of course Nie Huaisang hasn’t brought his saber. He never brings it to class unless explicitly asked to.
“Alright, I’m done,” Wei Wuxian declares and straightens up from the seal on the ground. It looks deceptively simple. “It works in conjunction with transportation talismans. This way, we only need to activate the seal and the talismans will do the rest.”
Nie Huaisang doesn’t really understand, but he nods. If Jiang Cheng is willing to go along, it is unlikely this creation of Wei Wuxian’s will cause them harm. It’s always a good idea to judge Wei Wuxian’s inventions by Jiang Cheng’s reaction. Nie Huaisang is surprised very few of their fellow disciples seem to have figured that out.
“Then let’s go! Here’s to a day of fun and –“
“Wei Wuxian!”
The seal flares to life. Lan Wangji rounds the corner, white robes billowing as he catches the troublemakers in the act. Jiang Cheng curses under his breath, Nie Huaisang simply skips being surprised and settles on resignation.
Lan Wangji steps forward. “Wei Wuxian, stop this! You should come to –“
“Uh-oh,” Wei Wuxian mumbles.
Lan Wangji’s foot crosses the boundary of the seal. The lines, previously barely lightened, flare up in a blinding spell of white. There’s a shout, Nie Huaisang’s stomach turns, and the world abruptly twists.
When he comes to, he lies on a sun-warmed patch of grass. Birdsong fills the air, the nausea in his stomach settles. Nie Huaisang sits up, somebody else groans in the vicinity. Blinking away the stars from his vision, Nie Huaisang takes stock of his three companions. All remain in one piece, though the grimaces suggest they, too, feel as if they’d gone through a round of Nie Mingjue’s personal high-intensive training sessions.
“Ow, ow, ow,” Wei Wuxian mutters, pulling twigs from his hair. He’d landed in a bush that looks far less comfortable than the soft plants Nie Huaisang landed on. Karma, he supposes.
“I don’t think we’re in Gusu anymore,” Nie Huaisang mutters, looking around. The vegetation is lush, the trees tall with strange leaves, and the air brims with humidity. It’s hotter than Gusu gets during the height of summer and from the height of the sun, it is still morning.
“Wei Wuxian,” Jiang Cheng says and the tone that hovers on the edge of reproach draws Nie Huaisang’s attention.
Wei Wuxian looks puzzled. He stares at their surroundings, then scratches his head. “Ehehe,” he says.
A sense of foreboding assails Nie Huaisang. He looks away – there’s a very colorful bird perched on the tree next to him and it’s watching them curiously. Birds, like all beasts that have not learned to fear humans, can be drawn closer. And Nie Huaisang would really like to study the bird’s plumage up close.
“I gather we were not supposed to arrive here?” Lan Wangji asks, shaking leaves and bugs from his still pristine robes. However, his headband is slightly crooked.
“No, no,” Wei Wuxian replies swiftly, a little frazzled. “This was supposed to take us to Yunmeng. You see, we thought it might be nice to bring Huaisang-xiong out for his birthday.” He casts an apologetic glance toward Nie Huaisang, who waves it off.
Jiang Cheng huffs and crosses his arms. His failure to comment implies his involvement as much as Wei Wuxian’s use of plural. Nie Huaisang feels rather touched. Spending a day in Yunmeng would have been a wonderful birthday present, he thinks. Even if it didn’t work out, he’ll remember this.
“Let me see your calculations,” Lan Wangji demands, and Nie Huaisang proceeds to ignore the subsequent technical discussion. Perhaps he ought to be somewhat more frightened as Wei Wuxian transported them to a random jungle with no civilization in sight. But the colorful flowers alone are charming, and Nie Huaisang is a Nie, after all. He likes beasts, even if pretty birds are more his things than the frightening creatures his ancestors favored.
(Admittedly, the very-well-hidden family annals suggest that several his ancestors also enjoyed prettier creatures, but everyone knows they have an image to cultivate).
So, while Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian discuss transportation talismans, directions, cartography, qi flows, and a mountain of other subjects, Nie Huaisang investigates their surroundings. Between the twisting roots of an enormous tree, he discovers a beautiful feather, shining in many colors under the sun. The cry of a bird draws his attention, and he silently slips between the undergrowth. The green of his robes allows him to blend in, before long he comes across a large, dark-feathered bird watching him from the lower branches of a tree.
Nie Huaisang holds his breath, observing in silence. A companion joins the bird, this one more colorful. Before long, they both depart, but Nie Huaisang’s spot allows him to catch sight of a few more creatures. One of them has the bright plumage matching the feather he found, and Nie Huaisang nods to himself.
“Nie-xiong,” Jiang Cheng calls out, scaring away the birds nearby. “You shouldn’t wander off alone. We still have no idea where we are.” He looks around nervously.
Nie Huaisang nods and follows Jiang Cheng back to the location of their arrival. He hadn’t noticed he walked this far, but that’s an old habit, one his brother frequently yelled at him for. Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are still arguing.
“… and perhaps we could, but it would not work without knowing our exact location.” Lan Wangji says. “It is too dangerous.”
“But this way we could find out where –“ Wei Wuxian starts. Nie Huaisang clears his throat, interrupting him. Everyone – including Huaisang – is surprised.
“Err,” Nie Huaisang says. “We should be in Nanjiang. Relatively close to Yue – I spotted some birds that only live there.” He lifts the feathers he collected. They’ll fetch a hefty sum back home, the birds being rare and all that.
“Huaisang-xiong,” Wei Wuxian declares grandly. “You’re a genius!”
“That’s why it’s so terribly hot,” Jiang Cheng mutters, using his sleeve to wipe over his forehead. “How on earth did we end up here?”
“The talismans you used had been preconfigured to a different location,” Lan Wangji promptly explains. “Together with the seal you used, the destination was altered.” Even Nie Huaisang finds himself nodding along at the logic.
“Then can we get back?” Jiang Cheng asks.
“Sure,” Wei Wuxian says, at the same time Lan Wangji frowns. “It is possible but knowing our location in more precise terms would preclude further errors.” They exchange a look, Wei Wuxian nods, concurring.
“Nanjiang has recently been at peace,” Lan Wangji continues. “We should find a settlement or another landmark.”
“Then let’s look,” Wei Wuxian declares and promptly climbs on his sword. With how tall the trees surrounding them are, he needs to fly quite high to get a look over their top. The rest of the group remains on the ground.
“Or we could always follow the river,” Jiang Cheng mutters. Now that he says it, Nie Huaisang, too, catches the sound of running water.
Now, it would be much faster to follow the river by flying on their swords. However, Nie Huaisang hasn’t brought his saber, and – as they do not know what awaits them – Lan Wangji cautions against wasting energy frivolously. Which means they build a raft.
“No, no, not that knot,” Jiang Cheng instructs, with the mastery of one used to constructing rafts from the day he could walk. Nie Huaisang gets the distinct notion even Lan Wangji is impressed. At the rising heat, they’ve all shed their outer robes.
“Huaisang-xiong, stay where you are,” Wei Wuxian commands as Nie Huaisang makes to hand him a log. “It’s still your birthday. You’re not supposed to work.”
Despite his declaration, Nie Huaisang ends up getting the job of testing out whether their raft floats.
“You’re the lightest,” Jiang Cheng says in what sounds like an apology. He’s the best swimmer. Except the water isn’t very deep. Nie Huaisang gives him a pointed look and then climbs onto the raft. It sways a bit, but remains a float, and Wei Wuxian cheers.
Before long, all four have climbed on and settled comfortably. The raft drifts with the flow of the widening river, with Jiang Cheng only needing to adjust their direction every now and then. A sweet coolness rises from the water, providing relief from the heat. Nie Huaisang idly watches birds flutter through the thick jungle at both sides of the river, allowing himself to be lulled into doze by the peaceful atmosphere.
Wei Wuxian has his outer robe pulled over his face, snoozing. Even Lan Wangji in his perfect meditation pose appears relaxed. Jiang Cheng has resigned himself to being the responsible helmsman for the time being. Considering they’ve been landed in a jungle by a bungled transportation spell, this adventure so far has turned out rather peaceful. Not that Nie Huaisang minds it. But he really hopes they make it back in time lest someone starts to panic. Four young masters disappearing would stir the cultivation world. With how tense the situation is, it would not take long for accusations to fly. Or worse.
With a sigh, Nie Huaisang banished the thought. He’s thousands of li away from it all. Here, among exotic birds, he may as well enjoy a bit of peace.
By noon, they spot first signs of human habitation. A boat, half-hidden at the riverbank. Some fishing equipment, a group of chickens picking at the grasses. A thatched house spotted through the trees.
“Should we stop here?” Jiang Cheng wonders.
Lan Wangji frowns. “Continuing on might posit the better choice. It is unlikely the locals here would know the answers to our questions. Nor would they, in all likelihood, understand our questions.”
“Right,” Nie Huaisang says. “The dialects.” When Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng look at him, he adds: “It gets pretty bad up north – sometimes everyone needs to be written down because the people there have a completely different pronunciation. I heard it’s the same for the south.”
Lan Wangji nods in confirmation.
“Then we’d best find a town with an official or someone who can write,” Jiang Cheng concludes. “It might take a while, but with a river this size, there should be one coming up before too long.” There’s a note of unease, and Nie Huaisang concurs. His geographical knowledge of the south is shaky, and while Jiang Cheng speaks true – there will be a town before long – it could take them more than a day to reach.
“At least we won’t starve,” Wei Wuxian declares, chasing away those worries. “There’s a lot of fish in the water. And we packed some things, too.” Nie Huaisang’s stomach grumbles.
He’s pleasantly surprised when Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng unpack a rather festive spread complete with cakes and three jars of Emperor’s smile. “We were planning on a birthday outing,” Jiang Cheng reminds them. “Of course, we packed a little more.”
For a moment, Nie Huaisang must bite down on his lower lip to stop it from wobbling. Of course, Jiang Cheng says, of course. But to Nie Huaisang, a special meal prepared on his birthday is not so self-evident. As the second young master of the Nie clan, of course he received ample gifts and treats. Yet he knows most are dictated by politics. This type of gift-giving out of friendship and affection he has rarely experienced.
It’s the best birthday lunch he had in recent years. Despite the pesky insects drawn by food.
“A toast,” Wei Wuxian proposes once their stomachs have been pleasantly filled. Jiang Cheng frowns – they’ve only got three jars. Wei Wuxian misunderstands and grins. “We’re not in Cloud Recesses anymore! Say, Lan Zhan, there’s no rule about alcohol outside, is there?”
For all the three of them have melted under the heat and stripped to their underclothes, Lan Wangji, too, has mellowed. “There is not,” he agrees with a long-suffering expression.
“Hear, hear,” Wei Wuxian declares.
“We only have three jars,” Jiang Cheng points out.
“Oh. I guess someone will have to share?” Wei Wuxian suggests immediately. Now, with Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng being brothers in every sense except the family registry, them sharing would not surprise anyone. However, Wei Wuxian, apparently bored by how smooth their adventure has proceeded, turns to Lan Wangji. “Lan Zhan, do you mind sharing –“
“I don’t drink alcohol,” Lan Wangji promptly cuts him off.
Wei Wuxian pouts.
Nie Huaisang sighs. “Let’s just have a toast later.” He wouldn’t mind dozing off again. Or just watching the birds for a while.
“Who knows what will happen later,” Wei Wuxian protests and shoves a jar at Nie Huaisang. “Here.”
Jiang Cheng, too, raises his jar in a toast. And it’s little awkward with Lan Wangji among them, but Nie Huaisang has a thick skin. He raises his jar, too. So does Wei Wuxian, and, to their surprise, Lan Wangji echoes the gesture with empty hands.
“Happy birthday!” the three proclaim and Nie Huaisang’s heart grows a little fonder.
The day grows into afternoon, and Nie Huaisang dozes for a bit. Wei Wuxian switches places with Jiang Cheng, proclaiming the spot to be so much better, because Lan Wangji just radiates cold. So refreshing in this climate!
More signs of civilization pop up, they even catch sight of a fishing woman once. The lady looks rather irritated at their getup but doesn’t run away in fright or throw her rather sharp harpoon at them. A complete success, Wei Wuxian declares. Jiang Cheng surmises they might better put their clothes back on, lest they get attacked for indecency.
Which would be such a terrible ending for four (okay, three) brilliant cultivators, Wei Wuxian spends a shichen laughing at ever more absurd scenarios.
“Wei-xiong, I won’t let you borrow any more books if you don’t shut up,” Nie Huaisang mumbles once Wei Wuxian begins to imagine them coming across a matriarchal society with strange fertility rituals. Even if it’s unlikely the locals understand what Wei Wuxian says, it’s not a risk Nie Huaisang intends to take.
“Just push him off the raft,” Jiang Cheng advises, wise from experience.
“No, no, but think. What if –“ Wei Wuxian starts. Then there’s an abrupt splash. Nie Huaisang sits up. “I didn’t –“ he begins. Jiang Cheng looks as surprised as he feels.
Wei Wuxian surfaces, spitting water and grinning. “Lan Zhan,” he declares, treading water. “I didn’t know you were shy!”
“Shameless,” Lan Wangji returns. The tips of his ears are red, Nie Huaisang notices, and he feels like laughing. Which is a little hypocritical, given the ideas Wei Wuxian came up with made his own cheeks blush. Though if anyone asked, Nie Huaisang would have blamed the heat.
Thankfully, the heat renders them too lazy to engage in an actual fight. Wei Wuxian climbs back on, purposefully dripping water on everyone, before plopping down and closing his eyes. The water is kind of nice and cool, so Nie Huaisang doesn’t mind.
When they reach a town, it’s rather abrupt. One moment, the river makes a sharp bend, the next instead of trees, houses line the river, boats loaded with fruits drift past, and busy chatter fills the air. Admittedly, the trees around the houses are still high, and the birds still very loud, so missing the signs of approaching civilization can be forgiven.
They draw some stares as they navigate their raft underneath a bridge and toward an embankment. Though those are more curious than hostile.
“I imagine they see quite a few travelers here,” Wei Wuxian guesses and casts a charming smile toward a group of gossiping fruit sellers. They may not understand his words, but at least Wei Wuxian’s smile successfully bridges any cultural differences.
“They’d still be able to tell we’re lost,” Lan Wangji counters. “Our clothes aren’t suited to travel.”
Plus, they still have grass stains, and Wei Wuxian’s robes have wrinkled from the humidity. A little self-conscious, Nie Huaisang straightens his own clothes. Perhaps the green has never much appealed to his aesthetic sense, but his ancestors were onto something in terms of practicality. Grass stains are invisible, and the texture doesn’t wrinkle. Completely without the help of charms, which is the only explanation for how Lan Wangji still looks as fresh as when they first set out.
“Well, let’s have a look around then,” Wei Wuxian declares.
“Let’s find the magistrate’s office,” Jiang Cheng corrects. Much as Nie Huaisang would like to enjoy the atmosphere, he agrees. The sun has started its descend and getting back too late will cause a headache.
Still, the town is pleasant. Not very big, the central avenue is lined by shops and stalls on both sides. Some have begun preparing for dinner, with skewers of meat and fruit sizzling away over glowing charcoals. Smoke and sweet scents hang in the air, a few notes drift by on a warm breeze. People tilt their heads at the four of them. Some laugh, one or two shout a question their way – but their accent is so thick, they might be speaking a completely different language.
From the corner of his eye Nie Huaisang spots merchants setting up their wares. Exotic trinkets, jewelry, and colorful fabrics. He doesn’t see anyone wearing a sword, nor familiar colors or flags. They are far away from the politics of home, and while Nie Huaisang knows better than to believe this means this place is free from turmoil, it at least feels this way.
How wonderful it must be not to care about the Wen sect, not to worry for the future. Perhaps he could be a painter in a place like this, spending his days portraying the landscape at leisure.
“There!” Wei Wuxian exclaims. Nie Huaisang turns his head – the street has grown more crowded; he needs to raise to his toes to spot the sign above the magistrate’s office. A rather humble building with peeling paint. One guard sits on the stairs – his sword resting next to him.
Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng head inside to speak with the magistrate. While Wei Wuxian can be charming, he’s not always the most diplomatic. And depending on what type of official awaits inside, they ought to be on their guard. There’s a shadow brushing across Wei Wuxian’s face – he understands the logic, they all do. But it’s cruel that the lack of a formal adoption means he must wait outside.
For Nie Huaisang, it’s a rare blessing. “Let’s have a look at the stalls,” he suggests and tugs Wei Wuxian along. The other’s eyes brighten and before long the two enthusiastically explore the wares and forget the passing of time. At one point, a seller monologues about the magical properties of an ore. At another, Nie Huaisang loses himself into the conversation about the brushwork of famous painters.
Fortunately, Nie Huaisang is in the habit of carrying some money along. The hawkers frown at the unfamiliar currency – but silver speaks louder. A bit of haggling, and both sides believe they made a good deal. Nie Huaisang purchases a fan – the simple design appealed to him. Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, got a hodgepodge selection of minerals, some snacks, plus a supposedly cursed locket.
“What on earth…” Jiang Cheng begins when he catches sight of them.
“We went shopping,” Wei Wuxian declares with a bright grin. Lan Wangji shakes his head in quiet exasperation.
“We received two maps and all pertinent information,” he says. He hesitates for a moment, and Nie Huaisang wonders. “We should return.”
They should. The sunlight turned golden once again, the heat comfortable rather than suffocating. Around them, the town comes to life as the night markets open and people stream outside for food and fun. It would be nice to join them.
“Or we stay a bit longer,” Wei Wuxian says. “Just to have dinner. After all, we promised Huaisang-xiong to celebrate his birthday. It’s not his fault I made a mistake.”
“Ah, Wei-xiong, don’t worry about it,” Nie Huaisang hurriedly interrupts. “It has been an excellent surprise.” It has. Different from what anybody expected, but very good indeed.
“Still,” Wei Wuxian insists. “Dinner. What do you say, Lan Wangji?”
Now, Lan Wangji ought to remind them that they snuck out of Cloud Recesses against the rules. They missed a day of lessons, likely caused a headache for Lan Qiren and many others. Being late will only increase the trouble.
Lan Wangji stays silent.
“Wangji?” Wei Wuxian repeats.
“This is not my decision to make, is it?” Lan Wangji answers quietly. He looks to Nie Huaisang, who abruptly realizes that they’re letting him decide. And well, that’s a very queer situation because among such bright cultivators, few would look to one Nie Huaisang for a decision.
“So, Nie-xiong, what is it?” Jiang Cheng asks.
Nie Huaisang exhales. Allows the warmth to settle around him. “Now, while I would really like to taste all the different food here,” he begins. “I’m afraid I already spent most of the money I have on me. Unless one of you brought more, perhaps heading home is more sensible.”
The three glance among themselves. Between them, they have half a silver ingot, a few coins stained with suspicious liquid, and a candy wrapper. Lan Wangji doesn’t carry anything at all – he’s known in Gusu, and his few expenses are incurred on behalf of the sect and billed accordingly.
“Cloud Recesses it is,” Wei Wuxian declares and again throws an arm around Nie Huaisang’s shoulders. “Sorry, Huaisang-xiong.”
Jiang Cheng nods. “We’ll invite you to Yunmeng another time.”
“Wangji could come along, too,” Wei Wuxian teases, and Nie Huaisang laughs. He’d like that, he thinks. Having all of them together, far away from their everyday concerns – he could spend more time this way. It doesn’t really matter if it’s Yunmeng, Nanjiang, or maybe even somewhere out west.
To enact the necessary spells bringing them home, they leave town for an uninhabited patch along the river. By now, the sun has set, though the sky remains a light blue. Laughter and music drifts from the town, mixing with loud animal calls from the jungle.
Wei Wuxian uses a twig to scratch a seal into the mud.
“What do you say, Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian asks, pointing at the scribbles in the mud. He idly bounces the twig over his knee. “This should work, no? Unlike the first time, this time we know exactly where we want to go, and this –“ he points to a row of illegible writing – “should forestall cartographic errors.”
Lan Wangji subtly purses his lips. “This will demand a higher input of qi.”
“Be that as it may,” Jiang Cheng says. “The daylight’s nearly gone, and I don’t want to find out what happens when we don’t get back in time.”
“Eh, but we could just ask Lan er-gongzi,” Wei Wuxian chimes in with laugh. “Say, Wangji, what is the punishment for being late due to a transportation talisman misfunctioning?” Jiang Cheng groans from exasperation. Nie Huaisang turns his face toward the sky. The first stars have emerged but it’s still quite warm, and he likes how loud the birds are here.
“…alright,” Wei Wuxian announces and Nie Huaisang realizes he spaced out. “Let’s do it, then.” He fumbles with his robes. “… does anyone have paper?”
Jiang Cheng shakes his head, and so does Lan Wangji, though with an air of grievance. Of course, unlike Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang, his presence constitutes an accident and he’d not been able to bring anything on this trip. Not that Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng prepared more than snacks, though Nie Huaisang doesn’t blame them. They’d expected a swim in Yunmeng, not a wilderness adventure in the far south.
“Can you use this?” Nie Huaisang asks and unwraps the fan he purchased earlier. His lone surviving souvenir of today’s adventure. It doesn’t bear any writing that should interfere with the spells, he thinks.
Wei Wuxian’s eyes light up. “That works perfectly.” He takes the fan from Nie Huaisang, grips the paper and is about to rip it into pieces. Then he halts. “Ah, Nie-xiong… that is, may I use this?” Wei Wuxian looks guilty.
Nie Huaisang nods. “Sure.”
An uneasy smile crosses Wei Wuxian’s face. “I’ll get you a better one to replace it.”
Whatever sting Nie Huaisang felt at parting with the fan resolves into warmth. “There’s no need.”
“Nor do I believe Wei Wuxian possesses the acumen to reliably assess which work would present a comparable level of artistry,” Lan Wangji offers. It takes them all a moment to digest his words, and then Nie Huaisang feels his cheeks warm. Lan Wangji complimenting his taste? Nice.
Wei Wuxian breaks out laughing. “I’m sorry, Nie-xiong,” he wheezes. “I’m afraid Lan Zhan is right. I have it on good authority that my taste is terrible.” He says it with pride.
When Wei Wuxian tears the fan into pieces to turn into talismans, it feels less heavy than Nie Huaisang expected.
Wei Wuxian’s talismans drop them off on the mountain just outside of Cloud Recesses’ walls. They scare a group of bunnies into scattering, though not before Wei Wuxian triumphantly catches one. Nie Huaisang stumbles from vertigo, and Jiang Cheng catches his elbow.
“Thanks,” Nie Huaisang mumbles.
Jiang Cheng makes a noise of affirmation. He waits for Nie Huaisang to straighten his shoulders before he lets go. While Wei Wuxian makes cooing noises at the rabbit in his arms, Jiang Cheng takes a closer look at their surroundings. They’re just off the main road to the compound’s main gate; the hour is late enough. Although the stars had already been out in the south, here the sun still lingers just above the horizon. The air is notably cooler, though.
“Sweet,” Wei Wuxian comments as he takes stock of their surroundings. “We made it in time.”
Lan Wangji gives him a look that speaks volumes. Nie Huaisang faintly wonders if he will report their misadventure. Sneaking out to town is one thing. Using a talisman to have an adventure thousands of li away quite a different matter.
Still, they amiably make their way toward Cloud Recesses, until they meet the first disciples. The boy – no older than ten – stares at them with wide eyes and tears up. “Second young master,” he says, “Second young master, you’re back!”
Then he turns on his heel and runs.
The four of them remain with many questions.
“There wasn’t … by any chance, not more than a day should have passed, no?” Jiang Cheng asks. Wei Wuxian meanwhile counts something to himself, trying to ascertain how much time passed. For a transportation spell to mess up time – it’s rare, but not unheard. Though at least, judging by the temperature, it’s still the same season.
Unless more than a year passed. But that is a line of thought Nie Huaisang refuses to pursue.
“No, today is still the same day,” Lan Wangji declares. The junior disciple’s reaction left him bemused, too. Wondering what to expect, they continue their approach with more hurry. Before the gates, they meet a group of familiar faces.
“Wangji!” Lan Xichen exclaims in visible relief. A blur of purple surges forward, wrapping her arms around Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. “You idiots!” Jiang Yanli cries. “I was so worried!”
“Shijie,” Wei Wuxian mutters, stumbling. “We said we were taking Nie-xiong out for a birthday surprise.”
“Yes, but then Lan er-gongzi disappeared, too, and no one could fine you!” Jiang Yanli exclaims. “Did you know how worried everyone was? We spent the entire day searching through town! Some of the seniors went to Yunmeng, even! Father must have heard of this, too.”
Jiang Cheng flinches, and Wei Wuxian guiltily bows his head.
Jiang Yanli only tightens her hold. “What happened?”
“There was a mistake,” Wei Wuxian admits. “We ended up much further south.”
“And Lan er-gongzi?”
“He surprised us,” Wei Wuxian sheepishly admits.
Jiang Yanli shakes her head, temper softening. Nie Huaisang feels a little envious. Having an older sister sounds nice – but knowing his family, an elder sister would likely be like his brother but less patient. He knows his cousins, after all (and is rightfully scared).
“At least you’re alright,” Jiang Yanli sighs.
From the corner of his eye, Nie Huaisang catches a similar conversation taking place between Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji. With fewer words and different dynamics, but the essence remains unchanged. Lan Qiren will likely come up with a punishment tomorrow. For now, everyone is happy they are back unharmed.
With everyone reunited, Nie Huaisang feels exhaustion creeping over him. It’s been a long day – not unpleasantly so, and he doesn’t begrudge his friends their happy reunions with their families. He’ll return to an empty room.
Which, well. He’s tired, and his bed an ideal companion for that.
“Hope you all have a good night,” he says to no one in particular, “Please excuse me.” He doubts anyone heard him and doesn’t wait for a reply before turning around. Yes, there’s a heaviness in his chest that has nothing to do with fatigue, though he’d rather not examine it. He knows these kinds of feelings, and he knows there’s nothing to be done.
Nie Huaisang doesn’t hear Wei Wuxian calling out “wait, Huaisang-xiong” or spot the frown that crosses Jiang Cheng’s face. The subtle twist of Lan Wangji’s lips no one would have caught, the consternation across Lan Xichen’s face is more obvious. He’s the one to start following Nie Huaisang, annoyed at himself for not noticing sooner.
(Mingjue had complained at the way Huaisang liked to fade into the background. For all it’s a good survival strategy given their circumstances, the reasons behind this behavior give cause to grief).
“Huaisang,” Lan Xichen calls out, seeing that lonely silhouette slowly makes its way across the compound. “Wait –“
Lan Xichen senses the newcomer before his shadow appears next to Lan Xichen’s own. Sweat beads Nie Mingjue’s face, there are a few stray leaves sticking to his outer robes. But the relieved exhale from his lips tells more than anything.
“They just got back,” Lan Xichen whispers. “Nothing terrible happened. They spent a day in the far south.”
Tension drains from Nie Mingjue. They’d all panicked badly when they’d noticed those four missing. Yet Lan Xichen knows how these hours must have recalled past specters for Nie Mingjue. For him, those family members who vanished, had returned dead too often.
With a nod of gratitude, Nie Mingjue chases after his brother. Nie Huaisang is too exhausted to take note of the heavy footsteps closing up, not until a hand grips him gently by the shoulder and forces him to stop.
“Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue says, and Nie Huaisang turns around. His eyes widen.
“Brother,” he says, surprised. “What are you doing here?” Did something happen?
“Idiot,” Nie Mingjue frowns and his grip tightens unconsciously. He studies his brother’s face, glad to find no bruises or traces of discomfort.
“Ah, I’m sorry. Wei-xiong had intended for the talisman to bring us elsewhere,” Nie Huaisang explains. “You needn’t have come all the way –“ He trails off. There was no need for Mingjue to come looking for him. Except.
“Right,” Nie Huaisang laughs sheepishly. “The message wouldn’t have been so fast.” Travel time between Gusu and Qinghe is more than a day, even for the fastest flier. And both sides are – reasonably after today’s experience – wary of transportation talismans. “What brought you to the area? Is everything fine?”
Nie Mingjue grimaces. “What brought me to the area?” he echoes.
Nie Huaisang nods. “A beast? Or any other type of trouble? You probably should return to that, then.”
And Nie Mingjue has had enough. He wraps his arms around Huaisang and pulls him against his chest, hating the way his little brother stiffens in surprise before relaxing. “Gege?” Huaisang asks, confused.
“You idiot,” he says. “Why would I be in Gusu on your birthday?”
“Oh.”
“Indeed,” Nie Mingjue declares gruffly without relaxing his hold. “You do make me out to be the worst brother in the world.”
Nie Huaisang immediately protests. “No, no. I know you’re just busy. There’s no need to, you needn’t –“
“I needn’t pay attention to my brother? Huaisang, I know I’m not great with remembering dates and I know I’ve forgotten your birthday before, but please have a little more faith in me.” Nie Mingjue refuses to his brother down. He arranges his hold more comfortably and carries him the way back into Cloud Recesses. It recalls a simpler time for both of them. “You know how I am.”
“I know,” Huaisang says quietly, finally relaxing against the familiar warmth. “And you know I don’t mind. Today was nice – we ended up somewhere in Nanjiang and spend most of the day floating down a river.”
“That sounds like a good adventure,” Nie Mingjue concurs. He doesn’t raise how much upset the disappearance caused. And later he will speak to Lan Qiren to keep the punishment mild – the boys had not set out to cause such upset. And the result has done them some good, he thinks.
“Sorry for worrying you,” Nie Huaisang continues, voice growing quieter. “But it was nice, being so far away from anything. We found a town – didn’t understand a word, but they had curios trinkets. I was thinking, it would be nice if we could go together…” The wistful note lets Nie Mingjue know it’s an idle fantasy.
Nie Huaisang knows better than to believe he can fully escape the politics of their family, and Nie Mingjue’s heart aches for this. They have their duty to their ancestors, but the older he grows, the more he wishes there were a way to cut the young disciples of his sect loose from the blood-stained turmoil of the past.
“Maybe we can,” Nie Mingjue whispers, feeling the body in his arms growing lax. Nie Huaisang dozes off in quiet exhaustion. For all his brother pretends to be ignorant of the stirring unrest, Nie Mingjue knows that Huaisang takes notice. He’s glad Huaisang had a day like this, far away from all the troubles. If he could provide more, he gladly would allow it.
(Alright, he’d grumble and complain, and be glad only in secret).
So, what if it caused him half a heart-attack? For all his little brother pretends to be a spoiled young master, they all know this does not extend beyond material things. Yet in those affectionate ties that truly matter, Huaisang learned to content himself with little and to forgive a lot. Learned to not expect his brother to remember his birthday.
But how to unteach this when the world will not follow?
Nie Mingjue sighs as he gently places his brother on the bed. Asleep, Huaisang curls up on his side and Mingjue strokes a hand over his hair. Next year, he promises silently, next year he’ll make time. If he can, he’ll get another transportation talisman.
(He knows the promise may not be kept. But he makes it all the same. Because it’s what he wants to happen.)
Fin