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It had been two weeks, but nobody came looking for Jiang Cheng. That meant his mother probably hadn't told Yanli-jie that he'd taken his car and his college savings and driven off to find Wei Wuxian.
Wei Wuxian who had run away the year before with nothing but his laptop.
The asshole had turned up eventually– living with some random cousins of Wen-fucking-Chao of all people– and he'd seemed okay. He wouldn't come home, and he wouldn't tell Jiang Cheng or jie-jie why, but Wei Wuxian seemed okay.
Then he stopped responding to messages.
You couldn't tell who the masked man was in the video that surfaced. Every damn internet detective had a theory, but the footage was grainy, and the guy’s face was off screen for most of it. Anyways people were more interested in debating whether or not the someone could actually be revived from the kind of injuries the supposedly dead kid in the video had. You couldn't tell who the masked man was-- unless it was your goddamn brother wearing the same stupid black and red hoodie he'd owned since middle school.
When Yanli-jie sent Jiang Cheng the link, he went blank with rage, almost frying yet another cellphone. They’d promised each other. Wei Wuxian promised him not to use his mutation until they were eighteen, moved to college, and could figure them out together. Jiang Cheng had spent every day since he was twelve trying to hide the fact that he was a literal livewire and all Wei Wuxian had to do was not touch dead things!
Jiang Cheng knew it was more complicated than that. Wen Ning was only fifteen. There was no way he should have been able to survive the kind of beat down those dudes had staged in the video, let alone fight back for as long as he had before one of the attackers pulled a gun. He should have been dead by the time Wei Wuxian darted out from behind a car and dragged the kid into an alley. Wei Wuxian might be reckless and shitty at keeping promises, but Jiang Cheng didn't blame him for not sitting back and watching a fifteen-year-old die.
The video was shot in Yiling according to the internet, so that's where Jiang Cheng went. It was a smelly, dead-end kinda place. It reminded Jiang Cheng of the bad part of town back in Yunmeng, stretched across an entire city. Jiang Cheng’s mother used to pick them up from school and take the long way home to drive past the dilapidated buildings.
“This is where you’ll end up if you don't start acting right.” She'd scold Wei Wuxian, although her sharp eyes always fell on Jiang Cheng in the rearview mirror.
Guess a-niang was right.
He’d slept in his car for a couple of days. Jiang Cheng had enough money for a room at one of the motels in town, but he didn't trust his car to still be there in the morning. During the day he drove around trying to figure out where the incident happened; only Yiling hadn't been planned along neat city blocks and every crummy alley way looked like the last.
He was going to give up when he saw the guy standing on the other side of the intersection with a fucking selfie stick, filming himself. Jiang Cheng slammed on the breaks. This was it. This was the corner where it happened.
Electricity crackled under Jiang Cheng's skin. How dare the fucker who filmed Wen Ning getting jumped show up again? He jabbed the car horn making the guy fumble his camera, but then the asshole turned in the direction of the noise and smiled as if somehow he knew it was Jiang Cheng on the other side of the dark tinted glass.
His foot was on the gas pedal and his car surged across the street before his mind could catch up.
“Hey you!" Jiang Cheng shouted, throwing the driver's door open and jumping out. But then, in his periphery he saw the shapes of several hulking, black clad men move towards them.
Of course it was a trap. How could he be so stupid?
He still took a swing at Selfie Stick Guy, unable to stop his momentum. If nothing else, Jiang Cheng could take out the camera and maybe prevent a video of himself getting set up from being posted online. His fist connected with the guy’s nose, but Selfie Stick Guy managed to half dodge, half stumble backwards.
"What the–!” The guy clutched his nose, blood seeped between his fingers, but he kept his feet. "What the fuck! I just wanted to talk!”
“Yeah, like your hit squad just wanted to talk to Wen Ning?”
“Hit squad?” The question was barely out of Selfie Stick Guy's mouth when one of the men in black grabbed him by the waist, throwing him over his shoulder. Selfie Stick Guy thrashed, twisting just enough to reach the man’s neck and bite down, hard. The man howled. He yanked a handful of Selfie Stick Guy's hair, but overbalanced and the two of them tumbled into a heap.
Jiang Cheng stood frozen staring at the spectacle. What the hell was this?
He snapped out of his daze though when Selfie Stick Guy screamed, "Your left!” and Jiang Cheng turned to see two more men coming close.
Fuck. Okay, he breathed, he could do this. The electricity was there, pulsing under his skin. He just had to direct it.
Just point the lightning at the attackers.
He took a deep breath and felt the power surge through his legs, his chest. It burned through Jiang Cheng’s lungs and throat on the verge of overflowing–
"Wait!”
Something pressed into Jiang Cheng's hand just as he lost control and his muscles constricted, fist closing tight.
A bolt of lightning shot through the aluminum selfie stick, and Jiang Cheng–his arm swinging wildly–took out three of the four men. They hit the ground one after another until only the man with blood dripping from his ear remained, limping away.
Selfie Stick Guy grabbed Jiang Cheng by the shoulder and pointed him at the injured thug who went down like a ton of bricks.
The world tilted around Jiang Cheng, his energy drained. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Selfie Stick Guy, his hair disheveled and face streaked with blood.
"Asshole,” Selfie Stick Guy muttered.
Jiang Cheng hoped he didn't mean him… Selfie Stick Guy was kinda hot…
He woke up to the smell of singed hair and car air fresheners, which actually wasn’t an unfamiliar smell, but Jiang Cheng jerked upright when he realized he was in the passenger seat. That never happened. Shotgun was Wei Wuxian’s seat.
"Oh, thank god you're up. I hate driving manual.”
"What the fuck? Where are you taking me?"
“Um, I think you mean, ‘thanks, Nie Huaisang, for saving me from those hitmen who thought I was the Yiling Patriarch.’”
Jiang Cheng's head spun. “The Yiling Patriarch?"
“To be fair, I thought you were him too until you turned all sparky.” Selfie Stick Guy– Nie Huaisang– said. “But you know who he actually is don't you?"
Wei Wuxian? Jiang Cheng thought blearily, whose dumb idea was it to call Wei Wuxian the Yiling Patriarch?
Nie Huaisang laughed, and fuck, Jiang Cheng must have said that last part out loud.
“It’s fine I won't tell. And since you asked, I'm driving us to my brothers’ house. Er-ge is a doctor, he can patch us up.”
Jiang Cheng scoffed, “You better not tell. And you better not slip gears and fuck up my transmission, Selfie Stick Guy.”
Nie Huaisang laughed again, and Jiang Cheng closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see his beautiful face or his terrible driving.
Multiple voices overlapped when Jiang Cheng, groaning, pushed himself up off the deep couch where he was laid out.
"He seems to be stable now, no fluctuating energy.”
"Yeah and for how long? A-Sang said he was going to explode.”
"But, Da-ge, I predicted it before he exploded. He just needs training. We both need training."
“Oh, hello! You must be feeling quite put out. I'm Lan Xichen,” said the tall, mild looking man, prompting the others to look over at Jiang Cheng. He was maybe thirty-ish and handsome in an annoying way.
“Hi." Jiang Cheng said flatly. His head hurt and his throat was dry so yeah, he was feeling pretty fucking put out actually.
Beside Lan Xichen a shorter, more burly man scowled back at Jiang Cheng. Not wasting time with introductions, the man said, "My didi says you're his boyfriend and that you have… an ability.“
Damnit, Selfie Stick Guy.
Jiang Cheng luckily grew up with an asshole for a brother. Wei Wuxian lived to make Jiang Cheng play along with his dumb lies:
‘Oh, we're traveling folk musicians.’
‘Oh, my brother is a stunt car driver.’
“Oh, we were twins conjoined at the hip, but when they separated us, I ended up taller.’
So whatever, if Selfie Stick Guy wanted to pretend to be his boyfriend, Jiang Cheng could be his shitty boyfriend. He didn't say anything to Nie-da-ge though, just shrugged. The older man held his gaze, however, with a piercing look that made Jiang Cheng’s hackles raise, like he could see into Jiang Cheng's soul or something.
“Da-ge stop!" Nie Huaisang whined. He grabbed Jiang Cheng's hand and, with surprising strength, hauled him up from the couch. "We're going to my room now. Good night.“
It was a normal teenage room with clothes and clutter and shitty posters on the walls. Suddenly Nie Huaisang seemed like a normal kid, and not at all like a wildly beautiful man who bit a guy's ear half-off and saved Jiang Cheng's life.
“What the hell is going on?” He demanded. "Why did you tell them that I have a mutation? What do you mean you predicted it? And since fucking when did I agree to be your boyfriend?!"
Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes and flounced over to his bed. "You're not special, Jiang Cheng, we all have mutations. Er-ge can see and manipulate spiritual energy. Da-ge is like a human lie detector–he knows when people have bad intent."
Jiang Cheng paced around the bedroom, unsure where to sit and angry with the certainty that Nie Huaisang found it funny.
“So what you make predictions like a fucking weather man? Why didn't you know those men were coming to jump us? Who were those assholes even? And why didn't your brother know you were lying about us dating?"
Huaisang fell back onto his pillows, talking to the ceiling instead of Jiang Cheng. "It wasn't a lie– us dating– it just hasn't happened yet. And I can't see everything. I was only getting one new connection at a time.
"It's like… imagine you’re in the woods.”
" Why?" Jiang Cheng frowned.
“Shut up. You're in the woods and you find a red string. You follow the string and it's tied to a tree and then another tree or a rock. Sometimes you can see the next tree, or, like, you can guess the direction the string is headed. But sometimes the forest is too thick and you can't see anything but the string.
"Baoshan-sanren is starting a secret training facility for people with mutations. I want to join. The string led me to the place where that Yiling Patriarch video was shot.
"Then, I saw you and I knew that you were how I would get to Baoshan’s mountain. Everything else was just trees in the forest. Understand?"
Silence hung between them for a long moment.
“That's the most ridiculous shit I've ever heard." Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Whatever. Where's your bathroom?"
“Down the hall on your right.” Nie Huaisang stood and went to his dresser. He tossed an armful of clothes at Jiang Cheng's head. " Take a shower while you're at it. You smell like body odor and burnt rubber."
Under the glorious spray of hot water of Jiang Cheng's first real shower in days he tried to organize his thoughts.
Nie Huaisang really had seemed to anticipate that Jiang Cheng would show up and how to direct his powers. But it wasn't impossible to fool him. Huaisang hadn't seen the hitman coming, and he didn't know who Wei Wuxian was until Jiang slipped up.
Jiang Cheng didn't give a fuck about Baoshan-sanren or joining her merry band of mutants. But he wasn't going to tell Nie Huaisang that. And he certainly wouldn't say that hearing her name unlocked a long forgotten memory:
Jiang Cheng had been eight when he'd promised his, now dead, father never to tell Wei Wuxian that his grandmother was looking for him.
“She's not a good person." Jiang Feingman had said, tearing up the letter A-Cheng found addressed to ‘Wei Ying.’
“If she finds Wei Wuxian, she will take him away and we'll never get to see him again."
Now, Jiang Cheng's brother was gone, but unlike the day before, he finally had an idea of where to look for him.
Freshly washed and still damp, Jiang Cheng went back to Nie Huaisang's room. The other boy gave him a cheeky once over that made him blush, but he just pushed his way onto the bed.
“Scoot over, Selfie Stick Guy. I'm going to sleep." Jiang Cheng grumbled. “We’ll go looking for your fucking string tomorrow."