Chapter Text
“Nie... Huai. SANG!” The roar echoed through the wide corridors. Startled, HuaiSang dropped his brush into the ink dish, splashing tiny black drops everywhere on the white scroll in front of him. The door to his study room slid open with a ‘bang’, revealing the towering figure of his older brother. HuaiSang flinched at the sight of his face, which had a flaming complexion that emerged increasingly frequent these days. “D-D-DaGe, why…?”
“How many times have I told you not to accept gifts from Jin GuangYao?!” Nie MingJue slammed half a dozen fans or so onto the floor, breaking the frame guards of some. HuaiSang leaped up from his seat and around the table, where he kneeled and picked one up, clutching it to his chest. “DaGe!”
MingJue interrupted his protest, eyes black as the ink stains on the silk scroll. “If you spent just half as much time practicing your swordsman skills as you do fiddling around with that brush of yours, perhaps I wouldn’t be so... You’re not some delicate maiden of a lower family, HuaiSang, you’re an heir of Nie Clan, so start acting like one! Enough of all this nonsense, now!”
“But, DaGe is Nie Clan’s leader. And I’ll never be a strong cultivator like you… It doesn’t matter what I do, I can’t do anything. Please, DaGe, just leave me be and let me enjoy what I’m good at.” Pleading while still on his knees, HuaiSang glanced up at the clan leader. Softened at the sight for a moment, MingJue seemed as if he was about to cave. Why shouldn’t his beloved brother, the only family that he had left, be allowed to live his life as he wanted? With Wen Clan eradicated, and the Yiling Laozu gone too, it had been peaceful for more than a year already. All seemed well.
Then he remembered that pesky guy dressed in yellow, remembered how his suspicions had festered and grown ever since the Sunshot Campaign. And he felt the fear, that icy fear which turned hotter and hotter deep inside him, until it consumed him with burning rage. No. he had to protect him. Protect HuaiSang no matter what, against no matter who. But especially from that Jin GuangYao. He had sworn it on his honour, it was the oath of his life. And when he wasn’t able to keep him safe any longer… HuaiSang had to be ready.
The hardening of MingJue’s face scared HuaiSang more than anything else, and he knew the ‘talk’ was over. Nothing could reason with his brother now. HuaiSang’s lips quivered but he couldn’t mutter even a single word, as he watched MingJue comb meticulously through his room, in the cabinets and storage caskets, under the bed and the tables, everywhere. And everything that he seized, he threw into a pile on the floor where the new fans from Jin Clan already were. Scrolls with beautiful paintings and calligraphy, bound books full of artworks, even music scores were trashed. HuaiSang’s collection of fans and paintbrushes were likewise tossed into the swelling pile. Only jewelry and precious metal with gems were spared from the rampaging hunt.
Once done gathering, MingJue paused and glanced at HuaiSang out of the corner of his eye, before calling in one of the clan disciples. “Take this and bring it out into the courtyard. Then find ZongHui and burn it. Burn it all, so that nothing can be salvaged. I have had enough of this… rubbish.”
“DaGe, no!” HuaiSang cried out, fore until then he had still held a tiny hope that MingJue had merely been bluffing, and he continued to cry as his most prized possessions were carried out to the yard. When Nie ZongHui, always braced to carry out the orders of the Nie Clan Leader, lit up the stack with a torch, HuaiSang fell to the ground once more, and his desperate cries turned into sobs of despair. The flames engulfed and ate away the once-fine goods.
It was perhaps the single most act that MingJue would regret doing more than anything else in his life, and yet no remorse was to be seen on his face. Not even when HuaiSang scrambled forward on his knees, once the fire had died out and left only ashes and ember, and stuck his hands into the sooty remains. Although still hot enough to burn skin, HuaiSang didn’t seem to notice as he searched to see if even the tiniest thing had survived the blaze, mumbling over and over. “How could you… I’ll never forgive you, never…”
Cold war fumed through the Unclean Realm and prevailed for several days. Even after MingJue had new brushes specially made and delivered for HuaiSang, the youngest refused to as much as dine with his brother. It made the whole clan nervous at how docile the clan leader seemed. Not once did he force him out on the training fields, nor did he remind him to clean and polish his sabre, so that it would be ready for any action that might occur. Instead, HuaiSang spent most of his time coiled up in his chambers alone or cruising around at the marketplace. More than a fortnight came and passed.
Then one late afternoon, HuaiSang heard knocking from outside his room. He ignored it at first - the servants had been instructed to simply leave food and other necessities in front of his door - but the knocks persisted and became increasingly insistent. When he couldn’t take it any longer, he slammed his book onto the table. “What do you want?! Whoever you are, just leave!”
“Is that a way to welcome an old friend, or have you forgotten me already?” It was a voice belonging to a young man, but not a disciple or servant, and HuaiSang had trouble being able to tell who it was. After all, he hadn’t heard this voice for many moons. Then it finally clicked, and he sprung up from his seat. Steadying himself, he peeked out, keeping the door ajar. “Jiang Cheng?”
And it was indeed Jiang Cheng’s grey eyes that greeted him. The dark circles beneath them made them look more hollow than they were, however the spark deep within them was still striking. Seeing his moping face, Jiang Cheng grinned. “What, have I gotten so handsome that you can’t invite me inside? I’m a clan leader now, Young Master Nie, you should treat me better.”
With flushed cheeks and a pout, HuaiSang stepped aside to let the other in. Jiang Cheng had only been there once before, but it looked strangely bare without the wall scrolls and all the trinkets scattered around, half the books and parchments seemed to be missing as well. HuaiSang strode past him and quickly found another chair for his unexpected guest. Gesturing to him, they sat down facing each other. As silence fell between them, HuaiSang squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “It’s been… a while.”
“A lot has happened.” Jiang Cheng replied nonchalantly, and it was as if the casualness flipped a switch. They talked for hours, willfully dodging the subject of those who were no longer with them because those memories were still too fresh and painful, and instead they discussed the restoration and development of Lotus Pier, marvelled at how fast Jin Ling was growing, and reminisced about their time in Gusu, back when everything still seemed simple. They were so deeply engaged in their conversation, they hardly noticed when dinner was served, though they ate and drank plenty of it.
Nightfall arrived before they knew it. HuaiSang, sluggish from all the food and wine, leaned back and rubbed his bloated stomach. A tiny bit more, and he would have gotten a tummyache. He gazed at his friend, then let out a sigh. “While I’m truly grateful for your visit, why are you really here?”
“Clan Leader Nie invited me to observe and learn alternative ways to lead and instruct disciples.” The reply was prompt, and HuaiSang raised an eyebrow. While it certainly wasn’t unheard of, especially considering Jiang Cheng’s position as an inexperienced leader, he still found it hard to believe that it wasn’t anything but a mere excuse. Sensing his skepticism, it was Jiang Cheng’s turn to sigh. He hesitated, then handed something to HuaiSang. “Here. For you.”
It was a folding fan made of smooth sandalwood. HuaiSang glanced up at Jiang Cheng, then flicked it open with one swift movement. A lone lotus unfolded in front of him. Above it, a single butterfly danced just as lonesome. Behind them was a thicket of long reeds, as if entrapping them like the fangs of a beast kept its prey captive. He trailed the butterfly’s wings with a finger. Albeit not of poor quality, he could tell that this was too clumsily drawn for it to have been made by a professional. Looking closer.
“This is…” HuaiSang’s voice trailed off before he finished the sentence. Jiang Cheng bit his lip and reached out his hand until his fingertips touched those of HuaiSang. Seeing how the other neither reacted nor retreated, he moved slightly more forward and stroke the back of HuaiSang’s hand. “Once the wedding between Jin GuangYao and Qin Su is over, and things have quieted down… HuaiSang, I want to spend more time with you, if possible.”
HuaiSang felt as if invisible lightning had struck at the center of their touch and electricity shot through his body, making him gasp. He tried to pull away, but Jiang Cheng grasped his hand, refusing to let him go. They struggled wordlessly for a while, until HuaiSang caught his breath and gradually calmed down. Then, he flipped his hand, so they were palm against palm, and finally returned Jiang Cheng’s gaze. “After the wedding. Let’s see then.”
But before they had the chance to meet again, another tragedy struck.
This time it was HuaiSang’s world that shattered. Nie MingJue died.