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This is all Nie Huaisang’s fault, Nie Mingjue thought as he stared at the almost unhinged looking demonic cultivator glaring him down, one hand holding his flute at the ready, the other clutching a baby to his chest.
“This is not my fault!” His little brother wailed at his side, his fan flailing.
Seriously, it's all Nie Huaisang’s fault.
XxXxX
“He tried to sneak out again,” Nie Zonghui stated as he presented the neatly captured form of his cringing little brother.
Nie Mingjue sighed, setting aside the report on feed costs he’d been forcing himself through. “Really, A-Sang?”
His little brother squared himself up as much as he could with Nie Zonghui still holding his collar and glared at him as defiantly as he ever did when dodging saber practice. “I know what I’m doing!”
“You’re trying to walk right into the den of a demonic cultivator and his Wen-dog subordinates! Didn’t you learn anything from that damn indoctrination!” He snapped, forcing himself to keep glaring right back rather than pinching the bridge of his nose to ease the familiar start of a tension headache.
“I still think that’s wrong,” Nie Huaisang whined. “What the Jin claimed doesn’t sound right! Even at his worst during the war Wei Wuxian-” Nie Mingjue slammed his fist onto his desk, hard enough the thick wood groaned and screeched. Piles of scrolls and papers shook, a particularly high tower near the outer corner tipping over to spill onto the floor. Nie Zonghui carefully looked away to the wall while his brother’s gaze just intensified.
“He turned his back on righteous cultivation for more power, just like Wen Ruohan!” He snapped, needing to get through his little brother’s stubborn skull. “I spent more time with Wei Wuxian during the war than you did, and saw the results of what he is. Even his own sect leader won’t argue for him!”
“Jiang Wanyin can’t! Not when the Jin are helping fund the rebuilding of Lotus Pier and Jiang Yanli’s engagement is back on!” Nie Huaisang argued. “And if someone did to our home what they did to the Jiang’s you can’t tell me you wouldn’t do anything to obliterate them just like he did!”
Nie Mingjue slammed his fists on his desk again, pushing to his feet to stare down his brother eye to eye. “If it was merely a means to beating the Wen’s, why didn’t he take up his sword again after? Why didn’t he return to righteous methods rather than that abomination he derived from who knows where? Why did he break out Wen cultivators and hole up in a place that only feeds his deranged methods?”
Nie Huaisang’s glare got even darker. “You were perfectly willing to use him in the war! And it’s because I don’t want to make assumptions and we can’t get anything actually useful out of the Jin that I want to ask him those questions!” Something sparked in his little brother’s eyes, something that made Nie Mingjue want to scream in rage. “Unlike you, I don’t want to take the easy answers the Jin are giving us just because my friend makes an easy target!”
Deep breaths. Deep breaths. “Have you considered that he makes an easy target because he is doing what everyone is accusing him of?”
His brother somehow managed to glare and roll his eyes at the same time. “I never said he didn’t do all of it, I just think the stupid, selfish reasons that everyone repeats without thinking are wrong! Just think, please! Isn’t everything just lining up too perfectly for the Jin even when they’re supposedly the ones wrong? And if Wei Wuxian had lost his mind from his cultivation, wouldn’t he have struck out at someone else by now? Even after Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng fought, which by the way let’s be honest here that was staged, Lan Wangji entered the Burial Mounds and left just fine and Lan Wangji actively hates him and wants to drag him back to to Cloud Recesses to be purified more than anyone! If Wei Wuxian treated him with respect and let him go he would definitely do the same for me since he actually likes me!” Nie Mingjue gave in and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to smooth away some of the building pain. His brother was right, to a degree. While the Jin kept their story relatively in line, Nie Mingjue knew enough about tracking personnel to know something was off. He couldn’t get more than a few names of the killed Jin guards or the injured inspectors regardless of sect, and no verifiable prisoner roaster ever got presented. The scene at Qionqi Path looked nothing It was one of the reasons he was hesitant to go against the Burial Mounds to recapture the Wen on top of it being the Burial Mounds .
They’d lost too many of their best in the war, and he didn’t want to throw them into a hasty, unprepared battle. If Wei Wuxian had a bunch of low level cultivators, they could take them while keeping on the defensive of anything Wei Wuxian could throw at them from the environment. But factor in even one or two especially skilled cultivators guarding his back…
Well, there’d been a reason they could unleash Wei Wuxian on battlefields with just Lan Wangji or a few of the Jiang covering him. The Yiling Patriarch could be a veritable army on his own, it was why he should have been in strategy meetings on top of being the Jiang first disciple. Nie Mingjue had needed to know what he could accomplish in certain situations, but not even his sect leader could really reign him in and that had been obvious. They’d just been lucky he showed up to whatever battlefield they pointed him at.
And it wasn’t like he’d shown any regard for his betters after the war either. The way he’d stormed into the banquet…
Nie Mingjue frowned. Looking back on it, he hadn’t really stormed in, had he?
No. He’d tried to pull Jin Zixun aside first, hadn’t he? He’d only confronted him publicly once forced.
But what he said once he’d started talking…
It still got his hackles up thinking about it.
Accusing them of being no better than the Wen-dogs, threatening the righteous cultivators that fought against Wen Ruohan.
The bitter part of his mind, the part that he’d needed to hide to politely face Wen Ruohan for years after his father’s murder while other sects turned the other cheek, the part that made him stand tall at his people’s funerals after another run in with the Wen on the border of Qinghie Nie territory as note after note from other sects came in telling him he was blowing the situation out of proportion, the part that made him draw blood when biting his tongue at the condescending, oh so wise words of supposedly respected elders that only wanted to maintain the status quo even in the face of Wen Ruohan’s evil…. The part of his mind that had always been honest even when he had to save face… That part said that most of them had only joined the Sunshot Campaign once it proved itself.
Even Jin Guangshan, especiallyJin Guangshan, had stayed out until the last possible second, sending only a token force even if that force contained his son.
Some of those righteous people had even served Wen Ruohan at the beginning of the war. They’d undoubtedly committed the same atrocities as the rest of the Wen before that.
Wei Wuxian had contributed more than most, after losing more than most.
He wasn’t above reproach, but he’d deserved to be heard.
Instead…
And right after he’d left…
He had problems with Meng Yao now. The man had proven how feckless and untrustworthy he was multiple times over. That didn’t change the fact he was smart. Brilliant even.
But when he’d answered Lan Wangji’s pointed question that Wei Wuxian had in fact been right, but that because he was he shouldn’t have said it…
It had angered him then.
It still angered him.
Because it had to be one of Meng Yao’s lies.
They’d brought justice to the Wens. It was justice that they suffered now for all the suffering they brought to others.
He and the rest of the righteous sects had the prudence to determine who was really evil, who deserved punishment.
Hadn’t everyone agreed with hi-
He swallowed.
Hadn’t he always thought that the way the rest of the cultivation world slavered after Wen Ruohan, agreed with everything he said and didn’t question was disgusting?
But he’d let people question, hadn’t he?
Hadn’t Jiang Cheng said something about the Wens Wei Wuxian had been looking for? Hadn’t even Lan Xichen said something? That one girl they’d all…
He’d been so mad, though.
Angry.
He still was.
Angry in a way that had been harder to control lately. That sometimes surged irrationally, leaving him scrambling. That had shut down everyone that tried to speak anything against what he had thought right.
Angry like his father sometimes got, as he got older.
He narrowed his eyes at his little brother, who had stood there defiantly, not backing down for all that he’d begun to look a little concerned at Nie Mingjue’s quiet.
Hadn’t Nie Migjue always been proud that no matter how angry he got, he could listen? He’d needed to listen to others with differing viewpoints when he became sect leader at a young age. As he’d gotten older, driven himself harder to be stronger so he could avenge his father and protect his little brother, the Nie cultivation method had taken its toll on his temper and his people started fearing him as much as they loved and respected him. But even then he’d still made himself listen. Nie Hauisang was the only person that never believed he would hurt him. Even now, when Nie Zonghui half looked like he wanted to bolt for the door, Nie Hauisang wasn’t afraid. No one else had that confidence.
Not even Nie Mingjue himself.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
Well, at the very least he’d get his damned roster of who they’d be up against in a fight.
“Fine.”
Nie Huaisang’s eyes widened in surprise, and Nie Zonghui turned with a look that Nie Mingjue didn’t read so he wouldn’t have to yell at the man.
“Fine?” Nie Hauisang asked.
Nie Mingjue grabbed Baxia from where she’d been leaning against his desk. “Yes, fine. But I’m going with you. Nie Zonghui, go inform Nie Huizhong and Nie Yongruito that they’ll be coming with us.”
“Sir?”
“Do you want me to add drills to the list of shit you need to do on top of being in charge while we’re gone?” He asked his friend as he strapped Baxia in place, who quickly raised his hands in the air, releasing Nie Huaisang.
“No,” the man darted out, leaving Huaisang still staring at him as he pulled out a qiankun pouch of travel supplies. It was overloaded for what had better be a quick trip to Yiling, but this was one of his brother’s schemes, so better safe than sorry.
“Fine?” Nie Huaisang asked again, still looking at him suspiciously.
Nie Mingjue couldn’t help a sigh. “I’m picking my battles, A-Sang. Be grateful that you’re not being dragged to the training grounds and being run ragged.” Nie Huaisang nodded, still looking wary. “Besides, this way I’ll at least know which Wen-dogs Wei Wuxian has with him when we have to fight.”
Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes at that, finally dropping back into his normal, fluttery, huffy self. “Well you’ll just be proven wrong then. I should bring wine for Wei Wuxian! Who knows what dreadful stuff they’ve got there!”
Nie Mingjue rolled his own eyes in return. “You’ve got ten minutes to be in the courtyard, otherwise we’re not going.”
XxXxX
Without a clear way past the wall of fierce corpses Wei Wuxian maintained or an indication of how to safely enter the Burial Grounds themselves without getting lost on the way to wherever the Wen enclave was, Nie Mingjue directed their party to land just outside of Yiling proper. It’d let them do some reconnaissance and ask a few questions as they went towards the giant, dark void of doom his damn fool of a little brother insisted on visiting.
Entering town the locals didn’t seem too nervous to see cultivators, and even the normal civilian reaction to someone his size with a saber of Baxia’s size seemed somewhat muted, which felt nice, but realistically they’d probably just been beaten down by the overwhelming negativity radiating from the Burial Grounds. If Yiling hadn’t been so centrally located to the trade routes, he maintained the opinion it would’ve gotten abandoned ages ago.
As they walked through the main street a couple of braver vendors called out to them. Huaisang made sure to stop and chat with some as he spent a few coins on trinkets. On top of a few subpar fans he wouldn’t normally bother with, a package of tea, an embroidered herb pouch, and some sticky rice balls that Nie Huizhong and Nie Yongruito were left to munch on, they also learned that if anything the miasma from the Burial Mounds had gotten a bit better lately, with fewer lost to rampant fierce corpses and other assorted evils. Thinking about it, it made sense as Wei Wuxian had likely brought most of the resentment driven creatures in the area under his control. For better or worse, it reminded him of the number of times Wei Wuxian had thrown a wrench in his plans during the war by doing something fairly righteous, if incredibly inconvenient in a way that pissed off almost everyone around him. Whether it was detoring to help a village evacuate or stealing kills from some of the more bloodthirsty smaller sects, Wei Wuxian tended to cause an incredible amount of chaos while inexplicably doing what was arguably the right thing.
Additionally, cultivators frequented the city more now than when it’d been under the Qishan Wen, though most tried pathetically unsuccessfully to hide that they were.
Another fact that his brother teased out of people was what they thought of Wei Wuxian. While some were afraid, most either didn’t care or thought that the stories of Wei Wuxian living in the Burial Mounds and building a little Wen army of his own had to be false.
No one could live in the Burial Mounds no matter how evil. Hadn’t the Wen tried to tame the land before and failed? Isn’t that why they’d surrounded it with wards that occasionally needed to be renewed?
Unless they could do something no one had done before, surviving in the Burial Mounds remained an impossibility.
Where did they live then if the great cultivators believed them to be there?
No clue, even if it was closer to the Burial Mounds than any sane person ventured. If they really wanted to know more, they should ask the new radish sellers. It seemed like their farm was vaguely in the direction of the Burial Mounds, which meant if anyone had seen anything it was likely them.
As they made their way along the road they’d been directed to in order to look for these radish sellers, Nie Mingjue carefully measured his breaths and ran through mantras in his head.
He could feel Baxia reacting to all the latent resentment in the air, radiating from the Burial Mounds. A quick glance revealed that Nie Huizhong and Nie Yongruito felt much the same, though to a lesser degree. Fortunately or unfortunately Nie Huaisang clearly didn’t.
He sighed again, and rather than think on the subject any further, instead he focused on taking deep breaths and trying to not give in to the urge to tell A-Sang this was useless and that they should return home.
Nie sabers used the energy of Yao, of the evil creatures they vanquished, and if they were this affected, Wei Wuxian had to be even worse.
Suddenly, a weight attached to his leg, yanking him from his thoughts and making him halt in his steps.
He blinked and looked down. Wrapped around his leg was a small toddler dressed in relatively well kept rags, with his hair tied up in a bun and a sweet smile biting into chubby cheeks that reminded him of when A-Sang was little.
Nie Mingjue blinked again. “What?”
“Baba!” The child said, his grin brightening even further.
Nie Huizhong and Nie Yongruito both couldn’t stop snorts of laughter that drew Nie Huaisang’s attention, and it didn’t take long for his annoying little shit of a brother to catch on and become highly amused too.
“I’m not your baba, kid. Let go and go find them,” he said, shaking his leg a little. The toddler just held on tighter, only now his smile to waver, and with a sense honed from years of experience with A-Sang’s targeted tantrums, Nie Mingjue had a horrible sense of what was coming if he didn’t turn things around fast. “Do not cry! I’m sorry you’re lost but you’re not mine! Where are the adults you belong to?” A lower lip quivered and A-Sang barely got his fan up in time to cover his bark of laughter. “Shut up!” He snapped at his brother, only for that to startle the kid even more and before he could do anything else the kid burst into tears.
The crowd around them did not help the situation, saying all sorts of shit. A few even harangued him for not taking care of his kid when he felt it was fairly obvious that the child was not his.
None of what they were saying helped Nie Mingjue have any clue what to do. He’d played with A-Sang often at this age, but A-Sang hadn’t exactly been a normal kid and whenever he did get fussy first their moms and then the nursemaids he’d hired when they’d died had taken over.
“Stop laughing and help me!” He ordered A-Sang, but before his brother could do anything, a terrified shout cut through the crowd.
“A-Yuan!”
A slim, slightly emaciated figure burst from the crowd to snatch up the child, ripping him away from Nie Mingjue so quickly that he feared for the poor kid’s fingers. Sharp gray, almost silver eyes glared up at him, terror starkly evident. Really? He could understand being nervous when a stranger was around your kid, bu-
Oh. It was Wei Wuxian. The terror on his face made him look so young. It hit him again that Wei Wuxian was the same age group as Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji. He’d be what, 19? 20? at the most. If it hadn’t been for the war, his cohort would have just barely gathered enough experience to be given solo hunts.
Instead most of A-Sang’s age group that were better fighters, and even some that weren’t, had needed to take on risky hunts in response to the Wen aggression and had had to fight a war. And as justified as that was, as courageous as they’d all been, the war had been ugly. Solo night hunts seemed easy in comparison, but Nie Mingjue and many other sect leaders had needed to double or triple the amount of cultivators they’d sent on things because with all the mental strain most of their people had gone through, qi deviations and poor decisions had been far too prevalent.
For Wei Wuxian, everyone had heard of how the first disciple of the Jiang had fallen into drinking after the war. What set him apart from others though-
Nie Mingjue swallowed. Not important now.
Right.
Now held in apparently familiar arms, the toddler had settled down into sniffles, burying his face into Wei Wuxian’s arms, which were wrapped tightly around the child, holding him close protectively.
Whereas Wei Wuxian himself looked pale and a little gaunt, his clothes faded, dirt stained, patched, and raggedy, and his messy ponytail was unable to hide the rough shape of his hair, the child looked remarkably well cared for. His hair was shiny and gathered neatly into a bun, he had a healthy layer of baby fat all over, not just on his cheeks, and for all his clothes were pretty rough looking they were clearly treated as well as kid’s clothes could be when not great quality.
The kid peeked out at Nie Mingjue, and he tilted his head. There was something about the shape of the kid’s face..
As Nie Mingjue stared at the child, trying to place why it was so familiar, Wei Wuxian’s face sharpened, morphing into something akin to anger as he twisted the child into a single arm, placing his body between them, his other hand hovered over his waist where that damn black flute of his rested.
“Sect Leader Nie,” he stated, something that could only generously be called a smile on his lips.
Nie Mingjue frowned at the paranoid move. Had the resentful energy damaged Wei Wuxian to this point already? It wasn’t like Nie Nigjue was a monster that would hurt a toddler.
“Wei Wuxian!” Nie Huaisang said brightly, obviously trying to lessen the tension for all that he was smart enough to position himself to Nie Mingjue’s side, staying out of the line of fire. “It’s so good to see you! You won’t believe what it took to get my brother to let me come!”
“Not that I’m not thrilled to see you too, Nie Huaisang, a little warning would have been nice,” Wei Wuxian stated, that same almost forced grin on his face, his hold around the toddler tightening again and his eyes never leaving Nie Mingjue.
Really, why was-
“Who’s the little one that you’ve got there?” Nie Huaisang asked. Waiving at where the child had peeked up once again. The child quickly buried his face once more as he spotted Nie Mingjue watching him. Nie Huizhong moved behind Nie Mingjue, not much, but even the slight motion was enough that Wei Wuxian took a sharp step back, his hand snatching up his flute and raising it halfway to his lips in a quick motion that seemed almost… defensive?
A dark thought suddenly hit Nie Mingjue. It apparently hit his disciples too, since Nie Yongruito asked, “Is that a W-”
“This,” Wei Wuxian firmly stated, his fingers shifting on his flute as it twitched just a bit towards his lips, “is A-Yuan. He’s two.”
“Oh, I thought he was younger!” Nie Huaisang said. “He’s so tiny and adorable!”
Wei Wuxian's smile tightened even more, the look of terror that had never left his eyes only increasing. “He is.”
“He’s a Wen, is what he is,” Nie Mingjue said, his eyes unable to leave the two kids before him. The toddler burst into tears again at his words, and Wei Wuxian’s hackles somehow managed to raise even more as the crowd around them burst into even more muttering.
“Nie Huaisang!” Wei Wuxian snapped, clearly mad at this whole situation.
Nie Mingjue couldn’t help but agree.
This is all Nie Huaisang’s fault, Nie Mingjue thought as he stared at the almost unhinged looking demonic cultivator glaring him down, one hand holding his flute at the ready, the other clutching a baby to his chest.
“This is not my fault!” His little brother wailed at his side, his fan flailing.
Seriously, it's all Nie Huaisang’s fault. If he hadn’t insisted on coming here, Nie Mingjue wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be staring at a damn Wen toddler in the hands of a young man barely older than a kid himself, who was looking at him like he fully expected him to just chop a baby’s head off.
Before Wei Wuxian could say something else, another figure burst through the crowd and slid in between the Nie and Wei Wuxian and his tiny charge. It was a boy a year or two younger than Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian dressed in yet more ragged robes, a bamboo hat on his head. The face looked almost emotionless, but his eyes felt just as terrified and angry as Wei Wuxian’s. “Stay away from them!” The boy growled. Nie Mingjue would later blame it on the absurdity of the situation that it took until then for him to spot the dark black lines tracing along the skin of his neck over his robe.
Nie Mingjue’s hand twitched towards Baxia on instinct. Both of the older boys facing him slid even more into the defensive. The fierce corpse shifted further in front of the other two, his hands balling, and with the creature watching them closely Wei Wuxian was able to adjust the child in his arms, clearly preparing to bolt.
It was that even more than the words the fierce corpse had spoken that held Nie Mingjue back. They were on the defensive, getting ready to run. As terrified and angry as they both were, they hadn’t attacked.
They cared more about getting the child out of the line of fire than anything else.
And really right now, Nie Mingjue was the senior here. It would be him that decided how this went.
And for some reason that thought felt scarier than when he’d ended up in charge of a war.
He carefully moved his hand well away from Baxia’s hilt, before taking a deep breath, sending a prayer to his ancestors, and raising his arms. “It’s okay. We’re not here to hurt anyone.”
It took a few moments for the words to really register with Wei Wuxian and his fierce corpse, and even when they did it was obvious from the suspicion that flew across their faces that they didn’t believe him.
“Put Chenqing away, Wei Wuxian,” he ordered, hoping that perhaps the tone he’d used during the war might reach the boy. He winced as the crowd around him burst once more into frenzied mutterings, some obviously afraid, and both the older boys cringed, if anything getting even more defensive. He should have realized that the boys hadn’t exactly gone shouting who they were from the rooftops.
It was dishonest to lie about who you were, to trick people into trusting you like Meng Yao, but maybe it had been a little wise on their part to at least not say their names.
Rumors about Wei Wuxian had only been getting worse lately, especially when it came to how he associated with the Wen now.
And speaking of Wen, how did Wei Wuxian come to get his hands on a Wen child anyway?
Because that was the question, wasn’t it? There’d been no reports of break ins or missing people at the detention camps for the Wen civilians. Which meant that the only place he would have likely come across him was the… Nie Mingjue took another deep breath, trying to calm the anger that wanted to surge up in him. The only place he would have likely come across him was the prison labor camp he had broken the Wen sect members out of.
Though what he knew he needed to say galled him a bit, he summoned the courage that let him stand when others fled, that let him call Wen Ruohan a monster when others hedged their words, and spoke. “I swear that the child will come to no harm from me or my disciples,” he told Wei Wuxian. And it was true. Even though he demanded the meizu for Wen Rouhan’s relations, a family extermination for a full nine generations, if there’d been any children this young he would have stayed his hand at them. The cultivation sects didn’t deal in slavery like some parts of the world around them did, but he would have insisted they never be allowed to cultivate and be made servants of another great sect to ensure they grew up with the correct mindset towards their position.
But the closest kin to Wen Ruohan that survived the war were two well removed cousins from a branch family that dealt in healing more than anything else. Thinking back, they would in fact be the two Wens that Wei Wuxian came asking about before the prison camp break out.
The prison labor camps - a child should never have been at one of those with the cultivators and soldiers who fought under Wen Ruohan. They should have been at one of the detention camps that the rest of the Wen population and non-cultivators had been relegated to at the end of the war. All of them should be being handled by others so that Nie Mingjue never had to hear that monster's name again or care about any of it. He should finally be able to rest and enjoy what little of his life he had left with all the resentment he'd fed into Baxia during the war.
He’d done many horrible things, including using the boy in front of him, to complete his revenge on Wen Ruohan for his father and end the scourge of his sect on the land. But there had been some lines he didn’t cross.
He took another deep breath, and met Wei Wuxian’s eyes. “I swear it.”
Wei Wuxian finally seemed to believe him enough that he ever so slowly moved out of his defensive posture, though he kept the bulk of his body between Nie Mingjue and the child, and didn’t put Chenqing away even if he let the hand holding it dangle at his side. His head tilted to the side as he looked at them consideringly. Nie Mingjue fully intended to wait as long as it took Wei Wuxian to see what he needed to see. It seemed like an eternity before Wei Wuxian smiled the type of smile he used to give back in the war, a smile that Nie Mingjue just now began to realize rang incredibly hollow but was still more real than his previous sharp grin. “What can these humble farmers do for you, Sect Leader Nie?”