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Sometimes Lan Xichen questioned his choice of friends.
It was always a brief question and followed immediately by a stern guilty recitation of the rules of conduct. He loved his friends and accepted that no person, himself included, was without faults, but on occasion he felt his hospitality taken advantage of. In his social circle, his calm temperament sometimes had to serve as a balance to his friends’ more emotionally charged actions. Generally, he did not mind it, always happy to help the people he cared about.
However, he strongly minded being dragged into someone else’s private fight. When a beleaguered night guard sent word that Nie Huaisang was loitering outside their gate, having run away from the Unclean Realm to live with “a brother who cared about him”, Lan Xichen first instinct was to give him an earful and send him on his way.
When he actually saw Nie Huaisang, however, red-faced and panting and composed only long enough to collapse into his arms and sob, Lan Xichen forgot his frustrations long enough to half-carry him to a guestroom and sit with him until he passed out from exhaustion, tears still running down his cheeks. In the morning, Nie Huaisang slept off a fever, and Lan Xichen finally heard back from Nie Mingjue, who only had one thing to say:
“He can do whatever the hell he wants, but he’d better not even think about coming back until he bothers to learn one basic set of saber techniques.”
A manual of the basic set of techniques in question was then delivered by a wary Nie disciple alongside a wooden practice saber made to match the shape and weight of Nie Huaisang’s spiritual one exactly.
“Er-gongzi has been having difficulties lately,” was the only thing the disciple would say, his head bowed so low that he had almost folded in on himself. “The wooden saber helps...”
He would not reveal anything else, only apologize profusely and plead for Sect Leader Lan to look after their young master.
Lan Xichen would not say anything to the contrary, but the rest of the morning was filled with heavy sighing and frustrated pacing. It wasn’t unusual for Nie Huaisang to fight with his brother, or even run away in response, but Lan Xichen had never seen Nie Mingjue react like this before.
Not that Huaisang was an innocent victim himself. When Lan Xichen went to check on him and pass along the manual and wooden saber, Nie Huaisang took one look at the items and went rigid. Tremors seized his frame, but what fueled them wasn’t sorrow, but hot hateful rage.
“I said I can’t!” Nie Huaisang shouted and refused to answer any other questions or offer his own explanations. When Lan Xichen left him, he thought he heard the manual and saber being thrown across the room.
He left Nie Huaisang to stew after that. The Cloud Recesses wasn’t a place that would turn away someone in need, even an impromptu unruly guest who should have known better. Nie Huaisang had fought with his brother, and overexerted himself to the point of illness. He needed to rest his nerves and his body. Lan Xichen let that serve as his justification as he carried on with usual duties, and assured his uncle that there would be no further incidents.
And there weren’t. Left alone, Nie Huaisang kept to his room and a few outdoor areas he was permitted in, careful not to bother anyone as he whiled away the days. It would have been easy to forget about him entirely. A small part of Lan Xichen wanted to – let Nie Huaisang and Nie Mingjue work their own issues out, and get Huaisang home as soon as possible.
But Nie Mingjue did not send any further correspondence. And the assigned servants reported that Nie Huaisang showed no inclination to change the routine he’d settled into, and snapped at them if they tried to broach the subject.
After over a week of this, Lan Xichen understood that the brothers had no intention of making up on their own, forcing the burden of their fight onto him. He couldn’t decide which of them was more ridiculous. Nie Huaisang however was closer.
Lan Xichen cleared his schedule for the day, and then went to the guesthouse.
“Huaisang?” He said after the usual greetings. “Why don’t we do some training today?”
After a week, Nie Huaisang’s fury had cooled. While he still immediately froze at the suggestion, his scowl lacked the hateful venom from before.
“I can’t,” he said in a low voice.
“What does that mean – you can’t?” Lan Xichen pressed. Nie Huaisang’s answer was a terse silence to which Lan Xichen drew closer, looming at his full height. “For over a week now, you have been a guest at my home. You arrived suddenly and in visible distress, so out of respect for both you and your brother, I have done my best to give you the space you needed. I won't force you to explain, but you can't just spend your days idling.”
“I’m convalescing.”
“Your fever went down after two days, and I'm told you're full of vigor.” Lan Xichen took another step forward, at which point Nie Huaisang broke eye-contact. “Don’t misunderstand. You are very precious to me, and my sect’s doors are always open to you. However, isn’t this enough?”
Nie Huaisang’s ears turned a bright red. But the point was made, and Nie Huaisang lifted his arms and bowed. “Er-ge, thank you for taking me in. My previous behavior was inappropriate and I apologize for the trouble I’ve caused you. I won’t impose on you much longer.”
Not a word of explanation still, Lan Xichen noted. “And what will you do after you leave here?” he asked. “Your brother is very upset with you this time.”
Nie Huaisang shrugged. “I’ll go to San-ge –
“You will do no such thing,” Lan Xichen interrupted, harsh enough to startle both of them. However, when he thought through it some more, he meant it. Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao’s relationship was already fraught with more than enough tension. The last thing Jin Guangyao needed was to be dragged into this mess. “This isn’t the time to test your brother’s patience, Huaisang. You know what you should be doing.”
“That’s what I’m telling you – I can’t,” Nie Huaisang said again.
“I’ll help you. Lan Xichen said. His gaze swept the room until he found Nie Huaisang’s saber propped up in a corner. “I’ve cleared my schedule for the day.”
Perhaps that would send the needed message. As Lan Xichen picked up the saber, Nie Huaisang drew back, trying for all of the world to appear as small as possible. Lan Xichen was about to press again, but then suddenly remembered the Nie disciple’s words.
Nie Huaisang had always been reluctant to practice his saber. But that reluctance manifested as heavy dramatic sighs, self-deprecating quips, and hastily thought up excuses. It was easy to get swept up in his easy going pace.
This was different. And more than a little worrying.
“We’ll use the wooden saber,” Lan Xichen announced, and picked it up as well.
If nothing else, that at least got Nie Huaisang to lower his shoulders.
Though Nie Huaisang would be the last to ever admit it, he was decently proficient with the saber. His main issue had always been his low vitality. He tired quickly, and his posture suffered for it when he did, giving the impression of a hopeless beginner. But with the wooden practice saber, his movements were graceful and fluid. His years of training came out in every strike.
Not everything was perfect – Lan Xichen studied the manual closely and made careful corrections to Nie Huaisang’s stances where needed. But Nie Huaisang picked up on those corrections after a few attempts, and overall showed a good understanding of the things his brother wanted him to learn.
Nie Mingjue never wanted mastery from him. This much should have been more than enough already.
“Are we done?” Nie Huaisang asked once the steady stream of instructions stopped. He lowered the practice weapon and straightened out his robes. With a handkerchief, he mopped up the beads of sweat from his brow.
“You’re hiding something from me,” Lan Xichen said. “If your brother saw this, he would be tossing you into the air, not out of the sect.”
“Then I guess Da-ge just doesn’t want to see it,” Nie Huaisang remarked. “Let’s stop here. I’m tired.” A faint pink colored his cheeks, but his breathing was still even.
“Huaisang, what happened between you two? Really?” Lan Xichen asked gently. “You keep saying you can’t, but you’ve clearly studied these already.” He looked at the wooden saber. “Is there something wrong with your saber?”
“Er-ge, it’s fine. I’ll keep practicing with the wooden one. It’s fine.”
“That’s what Da-ge is upset about, isn’t he?” Lan Xichen guessed. “Your cultivation won’t improve with that weapon. You have to use your own.”
Nie Huaisang tensed again. His eyes darted towards the gate leading back into the Hanshi.
“Huaisang,” Lan Xichen whispered against the painful tightness in his throat. “Have I really become so untrustworthy in your eyes?”
“No!” Nie Huaisang replied at once. “You’re not – You’re the only one…I – I came here to… if you don’t believe me, I… don’t know what I’ll do…”
“I’ll believe you,” Lan Xichen promised softly. “But you have to tell me what’s happening.”
Nie Huaisang lowered his head very slightly. “I… I think it might be easier if I show you…” He took a long deep breath as he steeled himself. “Can you hand me my saber?”
The problem became apparent almost immediately. With a practice weapon, the only thing Nie Huaisang had to focus on was performing the correct movements, but with a spiritual one, he also had to continuously channel his qi into it. The Nie sect’s sabers were also cultivated in such a way that there existed a bond between the weapon and its wielder. Lan Xichen wasn’t privy to the exact details behind it, but he knew from Nie Mingjue that the weapons had minds of their own and took more energy to work with. For Nie Huaisang and his weaker reserves, this made cultivating with it especially draining.
It only took a few stances before his movements grew sluggish, his cheeks turned bright red, and his breathing became ragged. But the latter, to Lan Xichen’s alarm, wasn’t the usual deep heavy pants, but rather quick pained gasps. It was accompanied by rapid blinks and weak winces, and the first time Nie Huaisang stumbled to his side, Lan Xichen yelled, “Stop!”
Nie Huaisang crumbled under the weight of the saber at once, saved from the ground only by Lan Xichen hurriedly grabbing his arm. Up close, Nie Huaisang looked even worse.
“Are you alright?” the words spilled out from dumbfounded lips.
“No,” Nie Huaisang whispered, shut his eyes, and pressed his palm to his temple. “My head hurts.”
Lan Xichen quickly took the saber away from him, and yelled for a servant to bring them some water. Then with a steadying hand, he guided Nie Huaisang into the shade of a nearby tree. They sat down together, and Lan Xichen’s hand moved to the back of Nie Huaisang’s neck, gently massaging it as the latter leaned forward to catch his breath.
It was a long time before either of them spoke. Nie Huaisang slowly drank the water brought to him, but as a redness faded from his cheeks, an unhealthy paleness remained.
Finally,
“I think I’m allergic to my saber,” Nie Huaisang confessed quietly. The saber in question lay unsheathed at his feet.
“You are not.”
“I must be. Lately, it’s always like this…” He gestured to the field and then to himself, pressing the cool cup of water to his temple.
Lan Xichen's movements stopped.
“Have you talked to your brother about it?” he asked carefully.
“Have I talked to my brother about a headache that only ever appears during saber practice?”
Point taken. If he hadn’t just personally witnessed it, Lan Xichen too might have accused Nie Huaisang of slipping back into his childhood habits. He knew how to fake all sorts of injuries and illnesses, after all. But something like this…
Lan Xichen reached for his wrist.
“You won’t find anything,” Nie Huaisang told him, as Lan Xichen listened to his pulse. It had quickened from the exercise and anxiety, but his golden core and the qi that flowed through his meridians felt as it should. Nie Huaisang watched him closely, then suddenly yanked his wrist back and drew away.
“Forget it. This headache will pass in a bit, and then it’ll be like nothing happened. Convenient, right?”
“Stop that,” Lan Xichen scolded him. “How long have you and I known each other? Do you think I can believe you would fake something like this? This is very alarming. Especially since…”
Especially since Nie Mingjue suffered from similar headaches, ever since the Sunshot Campaign. But in Nie Mingjue’s case, the cause was very clear. Baxia had tasted an unprecedented amount of blood and resentment and grew more powerful and restless with each drop. Combined with the stresses of sect leadership and Nie Mingjue’s general temperament, the cultivation backlash was expected – inevitable even.
But Nie Huaisang didn’t have any of those stressors. He may have caught up to his brother in age, but his cultivation was poor, and his saber barely had a consciousness. He wasn’t a sect leader and led a quiet indolent life. Under those conditions, it wouldn’t be surprising if he never cultivated a saber strong enough to overwhelm him.
Such a thing should have been shameful, but Nie Mingjue had always shrugged and said it was fine as long as he knew enough to defend himself. Lan Xichen too always breathed a sigh of relief at the thought of Huaisang never going through the same pain as his ancestors.
And yet now…
“Especially since what?” Nie Huaisang broke the uneasy silence in a small voice.
“Especially since there are no obvious causes,” Lan Xichen finished quickly. It was the wrong thing to say.
“No obvious causes like my sect’s cultivation method, you mean,” Nie Huaisang muttered. At Lan Xichen’s silence, he scowled. “I’m not that stupid. I’ve studied my own sect’s history.”
“This isn’t that,” Lan Xichen said firmly. “Not that specific one at least. Even setting aside the obvious, if this were from your saber’s spirit, it would be noticeable. You’d feel a lot worse than just a headache.”
Nie Huaisang looked away, and Lan Xichen wondered if he said too much again. Did Huaisang actually feel worse than he let on?
“Huaisang?”
“If it’s not that, then what is it?” he snapped. “It doesn’t make any sense. It only ever happens when I’m using my saber, but that doesn’t sound right either, does it? You’d think it would be the perfect excuse not to cultivate, and yet all I want to do is go swing my saber a few more hundred times. I hate this so much!”
“If that’s how you really feel, then that’s all the more reason to talk to your brother.” Lan Xichen reached out to take his shoulder again. “Let’s go back to the Unclean Realm together. I’ll help you explain it to him. At the end of it all, there’s only so much I know about your sect’s teachings.”
“You already know more than me,” Nie Huaisang pointed out and pulled away once more. He pulled his knees up to his chest and laid his chin on them. “And that’s what makes this so much worse. If it was a backlash, then shouldn’t the song at least help me?”
“The song?”
“The one San-ge plays.” Nie Huaisang’s expression darkened. “Like I said, I’m not stupid. I know what it’s for, no thanks to any of you.”
“…I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen said quietly. His stomach sank as he realized the full implications of Nie Huaisang knowing. He knew it was unfair of them to keep it from him, but Nie Mingjue refused to say anything, and Lan Xichen readily went along with it. He should have known Huaisang would figure it out. “You are right, though. The song isn’t a cure, but it should help suppress the saber spirit… How long have you been listening to it?”
“Since San-ge started coming over to play,” Nie Huaisang replied. “Da-ge and San-ge both think they can hide things from me, but I knew how awkward they were. Da-ge always says he’s most relaxed when he can see me. I know he just means it in the general ‘don’t cause trouble’ sense, but I decided to stick around. San-ge’s playing is nice to listen to anyway.”
Despite the praise, Nie Huaisang’s voice was low and pensive. He pulled his knees in closer, and started blinking rapidly. For a moment, Lan Xichen feared his headache had worsened, but quickly realized he was trying not to cry.
“What happened?” Lan Xichen asked softly.
“I told San-ge… about the headaches,” Nie Huaisang said. “To be honest, I don’t think he believed me. But he suggested I use the time I spend entertaining him to rest more, so I did. But then Da-ge and San-ge got into a huge fight. I don’t know what it was about, but the others said Da-ge was so angry, he spat up blood.”
“I didn’t hear about this!” Lan Xichen sat up in alarm. “When did this happen?”
“About a month ago.” Nie Huaisang huffed. “Those two are so annoying. Da-ge won’t see anything except what’s in front of him and most of the time his “honesty” is just him being a dick. Meanwhile San-ge keeps telling me to behave, but he’s the one bringing up topics he knows Da-ge hates. If I’m not there to distract them, they just escalate things.”
Lan Xichen looked away uneasily.
“There were some circumstances in the past…”
“So what? If it was really so bad, why even swear an oath of brotherhood? If it’s just for the politics, they don’t have to play happy family in private. Da-ge could use me as his messenger – I like San-ge. We get along well. But instead, those two make everything worse, and then drag the rest of us in to pick sides. It’s exhausting.”
It was admittedly. But Lan Xichen could only nod quietly as Nie Huaisang lost the battle against his tears.
“At home I was constantly being pushed to the training field, or having to play mediator. A few disciples knew I felt sick and tried to help, but we couldn’t think of anything except to use the wooden saber. Da-ge was furious, then I was furious, and I just lost control and blew up at him and ran here to… who even knows why.”
“It’s good that you did,” Lan Xichen told him. When he reached to pull Nie Huaisang close, this time he did not resist. “I’m sorry you had to go through this alone for so long.”
“I don’t know what to do anymore. Xichen-gege, I’m really scared.”
More tears ran down uncontrollably. His ragged breaths turned into muffled sobs. Unflinchingly, Lan Xichen shifted positions to pull him into a tight hug and carefully stroked his hair.
“This is what we’re going to do,” he decided. “Right now, I’m going to take you back to your room and call my uncle and our doctor to examine you. Tomorrow, you and I are going back to Qinghe – if you can’t fly on your saber, you’ll fly with me. The Songs of Clarity were always meant to be a temporary solution, but several things you’ve said sit very poorly with me. I need to see Da-ge.”
At the very least, he needed to make sure Nie Mingjue understood what was happening with his little brother. The news would crush him, but investigating Huaisang’s illness had to come first. He would also need to talk to Jin Guangyao about taking over Nie Mingjue’s own treatment. Lan Xichen had pushed them together in hopes of letting them work through their past disagreements and find new common ground, but now it sounded like all he’d done was push the burden of mediating their arguments onto Nie Huaisang instead.
No matter how much he wanted them to make up, he wouldn’t place that over both Nie brothers’ healths.
Tomorrow, things would change.