Chapter Text
Something was following them.
Nie Huaisang was fairly sure it was a something, and not a someone, though he had little evidence in either direction. He, Wei Wuxian, and Lan Wangji had been walking for four days now, escorting their ragtag group of refugees from the Wen lands back towards Cloud Recesses – that they’d gotten a full four days away was something he’d call a minor miracle. When they’d rescued half the villagers from the Wen soldiers who’d kidnapped them, he’d bet to himself that they wouldn’t survive a full day without an attack.
Yet, here they were, four days out, and the only pursuit was a maddening shadow that flickered over the tops of the ridges behind them when it thought no one was looking.
Nie Huaisang wanted to call that a victory, too, but he really didn’t like those shadows. Nor did he like the way strange, swamp-water qi would brush against their wards at night, so lightly he would have sworn he was imagining it if his friends hadn’t felt it too. Wei Wuxian’s accidental teleportation had dropped them into the middle of something far larger than any of them had anticipated, and Nie Huaisang could only pray that they survived the experience.
He hadn’t mentioned the depths of his worries to his friends, though. Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian were running themselves ragged trying to guard the group, yet were somehow absurdly happy about it. It was obvious with Wei Wuxian, who bounced everywhere despite the faintly greyish tone to his skin and the way he started nodding off if he sat down for too long (which merely meant he never sat down at all, anymore), but it was present in Lan Wangji, too, if you knew how to look. The softness in his eyes when he looked at Wei Wuxian, a softness made all the more painful by the tinge of sorrow to it, as though he knew this was a dream that would soon come to an end – that was the most obvious sign, to Nie Huaisang.
And, oh, he could sympathize with that. Not that he felt quite the same, when it came to Wei Wuxian, but to look at Wei Wuxian and know that time was sliding through your fingers like grains of sand? He knew that feeling all too well – it pinched him with every day the two grew more wrapped up in each other.
Still, he wasn’t cruel enough to try to separate them, and he wasn’t about to put more burdens on their shoulders. If he said anything about the shadows, about his fears that their pursuer had some deeper goal in mind, Wei Wuxian would insist on investigating. And Lan Wangji, as predictable as the sunrise, would insist on accompanying him.
And, if they did… at best, they would come back hours later, exhausted and dispirited. At worst, they wouldn’t come back at all. And Nie Huaisang refused to do that to them.
Instead, he’d been leaving little alarm talismans in a trail behind them, with paired talismans hidden inside his sleeve. Nothing complicated, little more than tripwires, but they’d give warning if the creature behind them got too close.
So far, it hadn’t, and so he hadn’t mentioned his little inventions to his friends either. As long as their pursuer stayed back as far as it had, there was no need to stress Lan Wangji or Wei Wuxian further, right? Let them enjoy their time together, happy in the thought that they were putting up a good front for everyone. It was the least he could give them, after everything they’d done. It certainly wasn’t like he could contribute much in any other way.
The thought was bitter, as always, but its sharp edges were fading day by day as the ache in his bones grew. He was footsore, weary, and absolutely desperate for a drink of anything other than the rotgut Old Pei had seemingly endless containers of, but at least he didn’t feel entirely useless anymore. Maybe it wasn’t much, but, if he could give his friends a few moments of peace… that was something, wasn’t it? Not that Da-ge would think so, but…
He pinched the bridge of his nose, but a rising querulous voice snapped him out of his mood before it could begin. Eeling through the crowd, he sidled up beside one of the most cantankerous elders, whose face was turning an ominous puce. “Honored grandfather, may I beg a moment of your time?” he asked, pretending he didn’t notice that he’d stepped into the middle of a growing tirade.
The old man, Han Qiao, heaved a sigh. “What is it now? Gongzi,” he added belatedly. Most of the elders had a hard time remembering that Nie Huaisang was a cultivator, given his lack of sword, and he liked it that way. If it occasionally led to rudeness from overtired old men, that was fair enough, if occasionally irritating.
Nie Huaisang smiled as though the man’s tone had been the epitome of politeness. “Last night, I couldn’t help but overhear you explaining that you know of some herbs that could enhance our humble stews. We’ll be stopping for lunch soon, I think, and I thought I could hunt down a few of them for you, if you’d be so kind as to describe them.” Explaining wasn’t quite the right word – complaining was far more accurate – but he wasn’t about to say that.
A flush of pleasure suffused the old man’s cheeks. “For once, one of you younglings is showing some respect for the wisdom of your elders.” He nodded. “I was just about to say we need to stop. Get your friends to call a halt, and I’ll tell you what to look for.”
I know, Nie Huaisang thought, half amused and half resigned. That’s why I came over. The last time Han Qiao had decided he wanted a break, he’d pitched more of a fit than their three donkeys combined. “I believe you mentioned that one of them grows best along waterways?”
Han Qiao waved a hand back and forth. “Streams and ponds, yes, but not on the banks. No, you need to find the freshest leaves under the shade of the willows, right where the sun only hits for a few minutes at the height of the day. Otherwise the stems are too tough and bitter.”
“Then perhaps we should travel just a bit farther, so we can stop alongside a stream,” Nie Huaisang suggested, and prayed one would come up soon. Deflection only worked for so long with Han Qiao.
And, truthfully, they did need a break soon. The village had owned a few donkeys, which the youngest and elders traded off riding, but three beasts weren’t enough for a group this big. Everyone would be happy to get their weight off their feet for a bit, him included.
“Humph.” Han Qiao shook his head. “No respect for your weary elders, boy.”
“Wouldn’t you rather sit in the shade by a stream, grandfather?” He offered up his best, guileless smile. “I know I would. Fresh water is so much nicer than the stale stuff heating in our gourds.”
“I have to agree,” Ye Meirong declared, coming up beside him. He jumped – the damn woman had the stealth of a cat sometimes. She snorted. “Gongzi, may I speak with you?”
Warily, he allowed her to tug him away. “If this is about the detour to the shrine,” he started, but she shook her head.
“No. I think I’ve convinced everyone that we can’t stop, even to pay our respects to our ancestors. But.” She rubbed at the back of her neck. Deep shadows made her eyes look bruised – she’d been doing more work than any of them to corral her fractious village. (Nie Huaisang could sympathize to a point – it couldn’t be easy to leave behind everything you’d ever known. But he was so very tired of the complaining. He was supposed to be the whiny one!)
“But?” he prompted when she didn’t speak.
“But.” A sigh. “We’re running out of supplies. Flour, dried meat, salted fish, basically every foodstuff is running low. At the pace we’re going, it’s hard to scavenge enough from the forest, and we’ve been passing through farmland for three days now. Nowhere to find food even if we had the time.” She looked away. “It’s not just food, though that’s the most pressing. No one has more than a foot or two of thread left – the next pack to break, we won’t be able to fix. And some folk are realizing just how inadequate their footwear is for this sort of trek. Plus blankets, dishes, soap… we had to leave so much behind.”
Nie Huaisang blinked slowly. “I’m sorry,” he offered, not sure what else to say.
“Don’t be.” Her tone was matter-of-fact. “You didn’t cause this. But.” Another hesitation. “We’re coming up on a city, you realize?”
“Yes?” He turned it into a question. He’d seen the signs, of course, but hadn’t had a chance to discuss strategy with Lan Wangji or Wei Wuxian.
She sighed through her nose. “If we could resupply… if they would let us through the gates…”
Ah. Now he was starting to see the picture. The guards were unlikely to permit a group as dust-coated and weary as this one into the city – no one wanted streets full of beggars. But a few of them, cleaned up and dressed in their best clothes, could spend the rest of the coin they’d stolen from the Wen soldiers without being accused of that very thievery.
Maybe. Hopefully.
He bowed to Ye Meirong. “I’ll speak with my friends. One way or another, we’ll get the supplies everyone needs.”
Relief flickered in her exhausted eyes as she returned his bow. “My thanks, gongzi.” She looked up as an infant’s wail split the air. “Shit. I think we may be taking a break here, stream or no stream.”
Sure enough, as soon as Han Luli paused to change her baby, the rest of the group flopped down into the shade of a copse of trees by the roadside. Han Qiao grumbled about the lack of herb-hunting possibilities, but Nie Huaisang quickly promised a full hunt that evening. That was enough to make the old man shut up, which, really, was all he’d wanted. Tastier stew would be nice, but peace was priceless.
Elders soothed for the moment, he let himself slump back against a tree and whimper under his breath for one full minute. How did Da-ge travel so much? He must have feet of bark. Nie Huaisang’s boots, well-made as they were, were not designed for this much walking. Or maybe that was just his feet, which he could have sworn had swelled to twice their size. Whenever he took his boots off, his soles were pink and puffy, tender to the touch, and no amount of soaking in cold streams soothed them.
Hoping for a distraction from the pain, he glanced around, and spotted Wei Wuxian with A-Lin perched on his lap. The little girl was laughing at something Wei Wuxian was saying, too distracted to notice Wei Wuxian slip half his lunch onto her pottery plate. It was already a scanty lunch – some leftover flatbread rounds they’d cooked at breakfast and a handful of dried berries from the village stores – and Wei Wuxian didn’t bother to save much for himself.
Something twisted deep in Nie Huaisang. Wei Wuxian wasn’t doing it for accolades, or even because a rule told him it was the right thing to do. He just did it, as easy as breathing. If anyone said anything, he’d probably make up some ridiculous story about berry monsters or claim that he’d once spent a month practicing inedia, and this was nothing.
It was a nothing that was taking a toll on him, though, even if no one else could see it, and Nie Huaisang didn’t know if he was envious or sad or something far more complicated. Wei Wuxian was, somehow, purely good. And Nie Huaisang knew himself well enough to know that was one thing he’d never be.
(Sometimes, in the dead of night, he wanted to be good. Brave and fiery, like Wei Wuxian, or virtuous and principled like Lan Wangji. But those dreams vanished like morning mist when he awoke, crushed under the cold light of day. Reality did not conform to his dreams. And, sometimes, he was glad of that.)
“He did it again, didn’t he.”
Nie Huaisang glanced up to see Lan Wangji fold himself into a cross-legged position on a cushion of moss, arranging his long limbs in a way that managed to look graceful despite his evident weariness. Something too soft to be mere fondness glimmered in his eyes when he looked at Wei Wuxian, though it vanished as soon as he looked away.
Nie Huaisang shrugged. “Did you expect anything different?”
Lan Wangji’s hand twitched towards his lower dantian, and Nie Huaisang frowned. “You know,” he observed, staring up at a puffy white cloud drifting by, “I read a story once about two cultivators who fell so deeply in love that they somehow bound their cores together. Sharing energy so freely, it was as though two had become one.” Lan Wangji stiffened, and Nie Huaisang added, “It was so very romantic. It’s a pity such a thing could never happen, don’t you think?” He smiled innocently, and the tension seeped out of Lan Wangji’s shoulders. He nodded once, humming in agreement.
Nie Huaisang watched him from beneath his eyelashes, but the Second Jade gave nothing more away. He nibbled on his own lunch with no real interest but no complaints, eating as though it was nothing more than a duty. And perhaps it was, if Nie Huaisang’s half-baked theories were true. If Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had somehow managed to tangle their cores together like cultivators from a storybook…
It was madness, to think such a thing. But something was going on between the two of them, something more than just the kisses they were now sharing when they thought no one was looking. Lan Wangji would cast wards, and Wei Wuxian would go pale; Wei Wuxian would sketch a paper man to amuse A-Lin, and Lan Wangji would know without looking around. And the way both of them were far more tired than they should be… they were the strongest young masters of their generation, yet he’d seen both of them drain themselves to the dregs repeatedly over the journey.
Once again, he considered broaching the subject, but no. Let them have their happiness, he told himself, and changed the subject. “We’re getting near a city, you know. And Ye-ayi says we’re running out of supplies.”
Inside his sleeve, one of the alarm talismans vibrated. He flinched, and tried to cover it by plucking a berry from his plate. Not one of the nearest ones – he’d arranged them along in arm in order of age, and this was one of the oldest. But it set his heart racing regardless, and he ducked his head to hide his expression.
“Mn.” Lan Wangji’s forehead creased, but he didn’t seem to notice anything amiss with Nie Huaisang’s mask.
“We’ve still got coin from the Wens, and I can sketch more posters if we need more,” Nie Huaisang offered, proud of how nonchalant it came out.
As expected, Lan Wangji’s ears turned red, but he didn’t immediately strike down the idea. It was a sign of how far they’d come, perhaps, or maybe just a sign of how desperate they were. Even Lan Wangji’s forehead ribbon was starting to look creased and dusty, the silver cloud emblem not as shiny as it had once been.
“We could make a short detour to restock,” Nie Huaisang pressed, when Lan Wangji didn’t say anything.
Wei Wuxian, who’d ambled over in time to hear that last sentence, grinned. “A trip to town? Count me in!” More soberly, he continued, “We need it. Another donkey, if we can afford it, and a hell of a lot of other stuff besides.” He collapsed beneath the tree with none of Lan Wangji’s grace, knocking shoulders with the Second Jade as he did so. His seat was far too close for propriety, but Lan Wangji didn’t move away.
Another sign of how much things have changed, Nie Huaisang thought with amusement, flicking his fan open. “I don’t know if it’s safe, though. Not with…” He flicked a glance back up the road. None of the villagers were paying attention to the conversation, but he didn’t want to alarm them. None of them knew about their pursuer, and it was far better that way.
“They have not attacked us yet,” Lan Wangji murmured, but the lines between his brows deepened. One hand drifted to straighten an already-straight ribbon.
“What are they waiting for, anyway?” Wei Wuxian scowled at the distant hills. “If those damn soldiers are out of the maze array, they could catch up to us without a problem. We’re snails here.”
Nie Huaisang lifted one shoulder. “They do not wish to kill us.” Why, he had no idea, but that part seemed obvious to him.
“Maybe, but if they wanted to recapture everyone, they could do that, too.” Wei Wuxian rubbed at the side of his nose. “Somehow, I can’t imagine they suddenly care about territorial boundaries.”
Nie Huaisang wracked his memory for the set of maps he’d drawn years ago, hoping to impress his brother. (It hadn’t worked.) “Huang sect holds these lands, I think? I don’t know…”
“Not powerful,” Lan Wangji said succinctly. He passed his plate over to Wei Wuxian. “Eat.”
“Aiyah, Lan Zhan, I already did!” Wei Wuxian whined. He tried to push the plate back to Lan Wangji. “Wasn’t Han-ayi saying you’re too skinny? If you don’t eat all your food, how will you ever change that?”
Lan Wangji’s ears pinked, but he did not take the plate back. “Eat,” he repeated.
Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure if the lurch in his stomach was amusement or envy. Or maybe nausea from the saccharine nature of the exchange… his lips quirked. “Perhaps we should disguise ourselves,” he suggested. “Send most of the group ahead, and then…” Oh, they were going to murder him for this, but he had to say it. “I can’t imagine our pursuers would be looking for a pair of newlyweds, do you? A sweet, innocent couple, preparing for a life together…” He cast a significant look at the pair.
His friends exchanged startled glances, and Nie Huaisang hid a smirk behind his fan. If they wanted to pretend there wasn’t something there, they needed to be more subtle. Wei Wuxian’s eyes danced with a mixture of speculation and mischief, while Lan Wangji… he was good at masking it, but that wasn’t revulsion in his eyes. Not by a long shot.
That didn’t make him any more amenable to the ruse, though. “No,” he said, and looked away.
“Why, Lan Zhan, you don’t want me to be your blushing, devoted bride? Don’t you think I’d look good in red?” Lan Wangji’s ears turned pink, and Wei Wuxian cackled. “I’d be the best bride you could want, ever so attentive to her husband’s needs. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
If Lan Wangji’s ears turned any pinker, he would resemble a tomato. “No,” he gritted out in a strangled voice. He refused to look at either of them.
Wei Wuxian met Nie Huaisang’s eyes, amusement sparking between them. “Such a pity,” he declared, pressing his hand over his heart. “I suppose it’s up to us, then, A-Sang.”
Nie Huaisang nearly choked on his own tongue. “Wei-xiong…” he spluttered. Please don’t make your boyfriend murder me! He didn’t dare look straight at Lan Wangji, but the sudden hint of ice in the air was enough to make him shiver despite the summer heat.
“Nie-xiong…” Wei Wuxian mimicked his tone, singsong, then grinned. “Come, don’t you think you’d make a gorgeous bride? Or…” He drew the word out, looking sidelong at Lan Wangji from beneath his lashes. “If er-gege would prefer, I could be your devoted, protective brother, squiring his lovely sister around.”
That was not better, not at all! Not with the way Wei Wuxian was looking at him, a glint of something knowing and curious and playful in his eyes. Nie Huaisang’s stomach twisted. Desire scorched his lungs and made his hands tremble, but the fear that filled his gut with butterflies did its best to quell the want.
(What if he liked it too much? What if his friends could tell how much he liked it, how much he wanted it? They were already looking at him, piercing and sharp, and he could hear Da-ge’s voice in his head. Act like the heir to the Nie clan that you are. Do not embarrass us. Act like a proper young master.)
He forced himself to laugh, shaky, and hid behind his fan. “You flatter me, Wei-xiong. No one would believe this humble disciple as a lady.”
“Ah, you don’t give yourself enough credit! I’m sure you would make a lovely girl if you wanted.”
Did he? Want it, that was? Just a disguise, a little voice in the back of his head whispered. Just a trick to conceal yourself from the Wens. And he wasn’t even the one to propose it. Surely, surely that would be acceptable? Da-ge wouldn’t ever know.
Something akin to laughter, overripe and shaky, filled his throat. This was so very foolish – he could think of a dozen reasons to choose a different disguise, or no disguise at all. It wasn’t like their pursuer would truly be fooled, no matter how well they concealed their features. Hells, he didn’t even know if the person or thing following them knew what they looked like! Maybe they didn’t want to announce exactly who they were, but he’d proposed the disguise more to tease his friends than anything else. Yet, now?
He took a thin breath and plastered a smile on his face. “If you say so, Wei-xiong, but I expect my brother to take good care of his fragile sister!”
Wei Wuxian clapped him on the shoulder. “The best you could wish for, meimei!”
A shiver ran down Nie Huaisang’s spine. Not an unpleasant one, but, oh, that was odd. He fought to keep his smile in place as Wei Wuxian continued, “I bet some of the lovely ladies traveling with us could help paint you properly. And someone surely has a nice set of robes we could borrow… ooh, and I wonder if I can modify that color-changing talisman to make them a bit fancier?”
Nie Huaisang cast a glance at Lan Wangji, his last source of rescue (did he want rescue?) and, clearly, the only sensible one in the group. Surely he’d think of everything Nie Huaisang had been thinking, all the reasons they shouldn’t do this.
But the Second Jade was looking thoughtful, not forbidding. “Be careful,” he murmured. “Do not be reckless.”
“Ah, never fear, Lan Zhan, I’m sure you’ll corral us into behaving!”
Lan Wangji looked calmly at Wei Wuxian, which for some reason caused him to splutter. “No,” Lan Wangji said. “Someone must remain and guard the villagers.”
Wei Wuxian pouted dramatically at him, then snickered. “You just don’t want to remove your headband, do you?”
Lan Wangji’s hand rose to touch the band stretched across his forehead. He lowered it immediately, looking faintly guilty. “I.” It looked like he was forcing the words past a rock in his throat, but he made himself say, “If you need me. I will.”
Wei Wuxian’s face softened. “Ah, no, Lan Zhan, don’t do that for something silly like this. We’ll be fine.” He knocked his shoulder against Lan Wangji’s. “I’ll even finish lunch if it’ll make you feel better, look!” With a flourish, he ate the last of the flatbread on the plate.
Nie Huaisang had to look away from the light that burned in Lan Wangji’s eyes at that, but, before he could find an excuse to leave, Wei Wuxian’s hand landed on his knee. “Come on, meimei,” he declared with a grin. “Let’s go get you kitted out, hmm?”
Feeling a bit like he wanted to throw up, Nie Huaisang followed Wei Wuxian to his feet, then over to a cluster of the younger village women who were lounging in the shade. “Jiejies!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, giving them his most charming grin. “We have a small problem, and we were hoping you’d help us out!”
Somehow, it was as easy as that. The younger women of the village took a fiendish delight in adorning Nie Huaisang in someone’s best robes and someone else’s face paint – lip stain and cheek powder and something painted in thin lines so close to his eyes, he had to fight not to flinch as they applied it. He tried to laugh, tried to pretend it was all a joke – they certainly thought it was a joke – but his mask felt as paper-thin as his fan. As he went where they directed him, pursing his lips and turning his face as ordered, the butterflies in his stomach grew into a raging hurricane, while his fingers ached from how hard he was clutching his fan. Half of him wanted to flee, but he locked his knees and refused to move. Just a disguise, he told himself, over and over and over. It doesn’t have to mean anything.
But it did.
When it was done, he stood beneath the shade of a poplar tree and tried and failed not to marvel at himself. Everything felt so… right. The way the colorful cotton draped along his body, the strange weight on his chest where they’d artfully arranged padding to give him the right silhouette, the sticky-sweet feel of the paint on his lips – it all melded into something that sank into his bones and sat there purring like a contented house cat. The robes might not have been the delicate silks he’d admired from afar, but they’d been lovingly dyed in a green ombré pattern with flowers embroidered at the collar and hems. The draped sleeves felt odd after so many days wearing a laborer’s close-fitted tunic. It wasn’t, practically speaking, all that different from some of his own robes, but it made him feel shivery in a way his own clothes never did. Exposed, as though someone had peeled away his skin, except it wasn’t painful. Just terrifying.
He lifted a hand to his lips, then hastily lowered it. The woman who’d painted his face had instructed him in no uncertain terms that he was forbidden from touching it unless he wanted to end up looking like a whore, and that wasn’t quite the look he was aiming for. But the fleeting touch was enough to smear sticky pink onto the pad of his finger. He stared at it, mesmerized. If only someone had a mirror, or even a shiny metal plate. He could almost imagine what the color must look like on his lips, but it was one thing to daydream and another to see it for real. And, oh, he wanted to see it…
The soft shush of fabric beside him alerted him to the presence of someone else. He quickly plastered a wry grin on his lip and reached for a shadow of Wei Wuxian’s insouciance. “Well?” He spread his arms for Lan Wangji’s perusal. “Am I the prettiest maiden you’ve ever seen? Tell the truth, now.”
He waited, pretending that his heart wasn’t about to burst from his chest, as Lan Wangji looked at him. “Very pretty,” the Second Jade said at last.
Nie Huaisang narrowed his eyes, but he couldn’t detect a single sign of mockery. Just something odd, deep in the depths of those inscrutable eyes – something eerily knowing.
That was better than cruelty, but it made his breath catch in chest nonetheless. He hadn’t been as discreet as he should have been – everyone knew he liked pretty things – but, hells, Wei Wuxian spent half his time in class drawing, and no one accused him of being girlish. Liking pretty things wasn’t a crime, was it? It wasn’t proof of anything… weird.
(Broken. Broken was the right word, surely, even as it stung like salt in a wound. What he wanted sometimes, what he dreamed about… it wasn’t normal. Liking this wasn’t normal. Wasn’t right. If Da-ge knew…)
He tried to laugh. “You flatter me, but I appreciate it.”
Wei Wuxian came bouncing up. He gave Nie Huaisang an appreciative once-over, eyes widening as he took in the padding at the bosom. “They really went all out, didn’t they?”
“I think it might have been their way of getting revenge,” Nie Huaisang told him. The young ladies had spent half their time giggling as they adorned him, and there had been a distinct edge of glee at times. Not malicious, but they’d clearly enjoyed the chance to tease a cultivator without consequences. And, he suspected, they’d all needed the opportunity to forget about their current situation for a bit.
Lan Wangji blinked, catlike. “They did a good job.”
“What, with revenge?” Nie Huaisang pretended offense. “I thought you said I looked pretty, Lan-er-gongzi! Don’t tell me that was mere empty words!”
Lan Wangji’s ears went pink. “Lying is forbidden.”
“You’re gorgeous,” Wei Wuxian assured him. Playfulness danced in his eyes, but there was something more there, too. Was he remembering Nie Huaisang’s ill-chosen words about Xia Zhu? “You make a lovely woman.”
Yep, he definitely was. Nie Huaisang felt heat creep up his cheeks, and snapped his fan open before either could notice. “Why, Wei-xiong, so kind of you to say!” He tried to make it sound dry, teasing, but he wasn’t sure he quite managed. It was kind, that was the thing, and he had to know how much of it was true. How much of it did Wei Wuxian really mean?
His friend looked between him and Lan Wangji, forehead wrinkling, then beamed. “Shall we?” He offered his arm to Nie Huaisang, just like he might have to a real girl, and Nie Huaisang, flushing, took it. It was for the masquerade, nothing more.
Lan Wangji looked at them both, lips pressed together. There was no telling what he was thinking, but his ears pinked when he focused on Wei Wuxian. Imagining him in Nie Huaisang’s place, perhaps, as Nie Huaisang had first suggested? Or simply processing the shamelessness of the whole affair?
His voice was strangled when he finally spoke. “You will be careful.”
“Of course,” Wei Wuxian declared. “I have my meimei to keep safe, don’t I?” He patted Nie Huaisang’s arm.
“Mn.” The clouds didn’t leave Lan Wangji’s face. “You have the list?”
“Right here.” Wei Wuxian touched his sleeve. He’d changed back into his guest disciple robes for the occasion, dying them black and red with the talisman he’d created. Given his height, they’d been the best option, even if Lan Wangji had gotten that pinched look in the corners of his eyes that meant that he was concerned. Nie Huaisang could sympathize, but better to look like a wannabe cultivator than a child who’d outgrown his robes two years ago. With any luck, no one would notice the cloud embroidery beneath the color change.
Lan Wangji nodded slowly. “And the coins?”
“I’m not a kid, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian heaved a melodramatic sigh. “We’ll follow your instructions to the letter, never fear. Nothing is going to go wrong.” His gaze sharpened. “And you’ll be careful too, right? If whatever is following us tries to attack, send…” He coughed. “Ah, well, send up a flare and we’ll be back before you can say donkey.”
Lan Wangji shifted like he wanted to protest, then tucked both hands behind his back. “Understood.”
Wei Wuxian bounced on his toes. “Alright, gege. Can we go now, or do you have another ten reminders to give us?” He smirked conspiratorially at Nie Huaisang. “The entire time you were getting ready, he was telling me exactly what to buy and what to watch out for. As though I haven’t been dodging city guards all my life!”
Lan Wangji’s lips twitched at that. How he’d ever fallen for Wei Wuxian, Nie Huaisang couldn’t guess – they were tinder and flame, night and day. But perhaps that was the appeal? For all the erotic books he’d read, he’d never quite understood that part.
(It was, perhaps, a pity that his initial idea hadn’t forced them into greater proximity. Wei Wuxian would have adored hanging off of Lan Wangji’s arm, playing at his dutiful wife. And Lan Wangji probably would have enjoyed it too, for all that he would have been crimson-eared and spluttering and pretending otherwise.)
He said as much once they were safely away from their temporary camp, and had the satisfaction of watching Wei Wuxian stumble over his own feet. “Lan Zhan? Ahahah, you really… aiyah, heart-of-stone Lan Zhan?”
“So you’re kissing him just for practice, then?”
Wei Wuxian’s cheeks flamed despite his thick face. “What? No, I… what kisses?”
Nie Huaisang favored him with a dry look. “You are not subtle, Wei-xiong. Half the village saw you kiss him when he agreed to take them back to Gusu, or did you forget that part?” He probably had, honestly – he was very good at tuning out the things that didn’t interest him, and, in the moment when he kissed Lan Wangji for the first time, he probably wouldn’t have noticed a boulder barreling down on him. It was both endearing and infuriating.
Wei Wuxian made outraged noises for a minute before subsiding into laughter. “Fine, fine! I’ll admit, he wants to murder me much less than before. Just once or twice a day, now!”
“Only once or twice?”
“I know, I find it weird too! But I’d know if…” He stopped abruptly, clamping his mouth shut.
Nie Huaisang shot him an alarmed glance. “What is it? Bandits? Yaoguai?”
With a sheepish chuckle, Wei Wuxian relaxed. “No, no, nothing like that.” He slid a sidelong glance at Nie Huaisang. “Never fear, though, I’d protect my darling sister from anything that threatened her.”
Nie Huaisang focused on the road ahead of them. “Such a gentleman. No wonder you’re ranked so highly on the list of eligible young masters.”
Wei Wuxian grinned. “Not sure I’d rank so well now, I swear I can smell my own sweat from a league away.” He cast a sidelong glance at Nie Huaisang. “No one would ever believe you’d been traveling for weeks, though. You really do look lovely.”
Nie Huaisang, cheeks heating, scrambled to find a different topic. Before he could, though, Wei Wuxian’s gaze sharpened. “Do you like it?”
Well. Fuck. There was no graceful way to dodge the question entirely, or at least not one his scrambled brain could think of, so he shrugged. “It’s weird.” That, at least, was true, and he prayed Wei Wuxian didn’t press further.
For a few yards, he thought his prayers had been answered, but then Wei Wuxian made a dissatisfied sound. “Like, weird good, or weird bad, or just… weird?” His hands fluttered through the air. “You just look, I don’t know, comfortable. And I guess I was just wondering…”
Again, he cut himself off, and Nie Huaisang shot him a glance. That was entirely unlike Wei Wuxian, who hadn’t evinced a single sign of a filter between his mouth and brain the entire time Nie Huaisang had known him. For him to stop himself now… a dozen dreadful scenarios flitted through Nie Huaisang’s mind. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, “Don’t tell Da-ge.”
Wei Wuxian looked genuinely puzzled. “What, about this little escapade? Why would I? I meant what I told Lan Zhan, you know – we’re going to do this without any trouble whatsoever.”
Nie Huaisang breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Ah, no reason. But thank you.” Then, because Wei Wuxian was still looking at him, and the words were burning on his tongue, he admitted, “Good weird.”
“I knew it.” Wei Wuxian looked very pleased with himself for some reason. Nie Huaisang didn’t want to know why. “Well, then, come on! Let’s show this city what a lovely girl you are.”
Nie Huaisang could have sworn his heart stopped at the words. Well, fuck. He was well and truly in trouble, wasn’t he?