Chapter Text
1. Jin Zixuan
The Conference was long, and tiring, and he feels like his smile is about to melt off his mouth into an ugly heap on his lap. At least, if he focused enough on whatever Minor Sect Leader from Down-Some-Stream had to say, he could act like he didn't feel the twin glares coming from the Jiang Heir and First Disciple respectively.
He knew he messed up badly, okay? He didn’t need the very slight nagging words of his attendants, or the longer dissatisfied allegories from his father, who in his honest opinion, should sew both his lips and his underpants shut.
He had known he messed up even before Wei Wuxian punched him and he had to go through the shame of Jiang Cheng, that Jiang Cheng, deciding fighting him wasn't worth it. He'd seen Jiang Cheng punch a damned tree once.
Jin Zixuan had known he messed up since he tasted the venom in his mouth when he swallowed after he said those damned things. He had known just how badly he'd messed up when his father said the engagement was off. Just like that.
He didn’t want an arranged marriage. He wanted to fall in love like normal people do, with late-night walks and sweet teas. But Jin Zixuan wasn't normal, and Jiang Yanli, no matter what he had said, was not normal either.
No normal woman would smile at him like he hadn't publicly disgraced her in front of all the male cultivators of his generation. No normal woman would bow as elegantly as ever, in front of everyone worth remembering and not, in a Cultivation Conference where everyone knew.
And Jin Zixuan was an idiot, nothing more than a common moron, because maybe the knots in his stomach that tightened every time he saw those soft purple robes weren't from hatred, but from something else.
Maybe his heart didn't stutter when he saw those green eyes not unlike the depths of Yunmeng lakes because of nerves, but because of whatever has been lodged in the back of his throat for the past two hours, since he saw her again, since she smiled at him again.
He was about to cycle through the same thoughts he'd had for the last few months again at record speed, when Clan Leader Nie speaks up, his booming voice demanding the attention of even the flies in the walls.
Jin Zixuan listens to him as he curtly gives a just solution to better Down-Some-Stream Clan's trade with its neighboring villages, and has the terrifying thought that he couldn't even come up to this man's knees as a Sect Leader. He hopes his father gifts him many years away from a Leader's Throne, even if it is the one and only parental duty he ever fulfills.
The Conference is put on hold so the Minor Sects leave the premises and the word is passed on to the big Four. This, of course, is thinly veiled with the excuse of lunch.
Before the meal begins, he excuses himself to his father's back and doesn't half lie about needing air. Jin Guangshan doesn't spare him a glance. It is better this way.
He gets out the wooden waiting area of Lotus Pier and walks to wherever his feet carry him. He loves Lanling, past all the gold threads and under-the-rug secrets, but Lotus Pier feels like a soft balm on his nerves, too similar to what its Young Mistresses love is supposed to feel like.
He's dejectedly staring at a little bird peck at a Lotus bloom, when he hears two hushed voices at the other side from the pavilion he's sat on. The stone fountain covers his body completely, but the thinned-leaved trees do next to nothing to cover the other people here.
"Have you been well?" He thinks the wind must've whispered it for a moment, if not for the billowing soft blue robes flowing obediently to the sweetened breeze.
Who can only be Sect Leader Nie grunts as answer, and when silence overtakes the pair he sighs. Jin Zixuan can only presume the Zewu-jun is making some sort of face at him, because the other answers.
"I'm well enough, Xichen. I don't want to speak about this now. I haven't seen you in what, three fortnights ?" He sounds rough around more than the edges, and to anyone else, Jin Zixuan included, as angry as usual.
Apparently, Zewu-jun knows him better than anyone, whoa, because he lifts a hand to the other's neck, blizzard blue soft sleeves resting against the almost black of Qinghe Nie's steel. He can slightly see the movement of Lan Xichen's thumb against the other's tanned skin.
Chifeng-zun looks like an appeased tiger, eyes closed and ever present scowl softened so much that all that remains is the sharp edges of his features.
"I've missed you, Gege," Zewu-jun sounds even quieter, and suddenly Jin Zixuan feels like he's imposing on much more than two close friends taking a calming walk.
"Then come see me more, Xichen," Sect Leader Nie sounded petulant, no matter how insane that thought was, and Lan Xichen's airy laugh made Jin Zixuan blink faster than he had in his life.
"Wasn't absence supposed to make the heart grow fonder, Chifeng-zun?" Jin Zixuan didn't have to see Zewu-jun to know he was smiling, but he couldn't imagine the tones in that smile. He guessed there is a different smile you direct to someone whose heart you clearly have in your sleeve.
"I don't think I can grow any fonder of you, Xichen," Even Jin Zixuan had to do a double-take because, again, whoa. If Lan Xichen's flustered air thickened any more, Jin Zixuan was afraid the other cultivators in the Conference would notice something amiss.
During his befuddlement, he hadn't noticed how close the other two males were to each other, nothing keeping them apart other than heavy robes, the gentle perfumed smell of Lan Xichen, and the gap in height between the two of them. Jin Zixuan chose to analyze the envy that brought upon him on a later date.
"Not here, Mingjue," He was not even sure he heard Zewu-jun this time around, but he was thankful he didn't have to watch them kiss. He doesn’t think he can look them in the eye for a good while after this as it is.
"You're right, I'm sure the Violet Spider has an array hidden somewhere that alerts her when people show affection in her domain," Nie Mingjue pulls away then, a rare half-smile on his face. His hand then rests on the back of Zewu-jun's head, tangling his fingers on the long strands of hair.
"Da-ge," Lan Xichen sounds as if he's scolding Chifeng-zun, and that's somehow not the strangest thing Jin Zixuan has witnessed this evening.
Also, Violet Spider, Yu Ziyuan. Yu Ziyuan, Yunmeng Jiang. Yunmeng Jiang, Jiang Yanli. Ugh. How is he supposed to fix that?
When he next gets out of his daze, the two cultivators are no longer there. Lan Xichen leaves a wake of just-melted snow and gentians everywhere he goes, and the sharp pine accompanying it, makes Jin Zixuan nod his head at the empty space the males occupied previously.
He stands up, back ram-rod straight as the tension bleeds back under his skin. He sighs and faces the heavens, asking for anything, at this point, really. When he opens his eyes again, she is there.
Jiang Yanli, with her silk robes and soft curves is almost goddess-like to see in the still-shy moonlight. She is at the top of the stairs, looking surprised at him.
Jin Zixuan takes a deep breath, and walks to her.