Chapter Text
Step one: Observe
A set of large golden eyes surreptitiously peer over the leaves of an outspread folding fan, its design featuring elegant calligraphy characters in dark black ink. Those eyes trail after a tall figure in violet, who has just exited the dining hall after finishing his meal.
Snapping his folding fan closed, Nie Huaisang rises from his seat as well, and follows after the departing individual with light footsteps.
Jiang Wanyin, also fittingly known as Sandu Shengshou, is a man infamous for bearing a deeply unpleasant personality. Wherever he goes, dark and stormy clouds follow, and wherever he casts his sharp, unkind eyes, a bolt of lighting is sure to strike. Such a foul-tempered man shouldn’t be of any interest to someone like Nie Huaisang, who is timid and non-combative by nature.
However, the churlish leader of the ever flourishing Yunmeng Jiang Sect has been on his mind since the last cultivation conference that took place in Lanling. There, Jiang Wanyin had caused quite the scene, boldly brandishing his spiritual weapon before the sect elders and visiting cultivators to secure his nephew’s precarious position after the recent loss of their once revered sect leader.
Nie Huaisang had witnessed the entire thing firsthand. As vicious and unlikable as he is, there’s no denying that Jiang Wanyin is a man who values his family above all else. Few with good sense can rebuke him for that, least of all Nie Huaisang himself.
Nie Huaisang tracks the other sect leader all the way to the library pavilion, a place where he had spent many hours copying the Gusu Lan Sect’s many rules once upon a time. Visiting this place at such an odd hour…
Nie Huaisang can’t help cocking his head in befuddlement as he moves closer.
Unfortunately, his martial abilities have never been good. A seasoned cultivator such as Jiang Wanyin would naturally have no trouble sensing his nearby presence, especially when he accidentally steps onto a twig and causes it to snap. The other sect leader whips around, eyes narrowed and lips curled back into a snarl. His current appearance isn’t unlike a cat’s whose tail has been stepped on.
“Who’s there?! Show yourself!”
Caught red-handed, Nie Huaisang has no choice but to reveal himself. He cautiously steps out into the open, noticing the slight shift in Jiang Wanyin’s expression upon seeing him. The man’s swordlike eyebrows slant inwards, and his posture looses some of its rigidity.
“You…”
Nie Huaisang cups his hands towards Jiang Wanyin, nervously offering him a courteous greeting.
“What do you want?” The ambiguous aura Jiang Wanyin was exuding only moments ago has already vanished without a trace, replaced with an oppressive and suspicious one.
“I—”
Before he can answer, Jiang Wanyin follows up with another interrogative question. “Why are you following me?”
Nie Huaisang can’t very well tell the honest truth—even he himself isn’t entirely sure why he’d followed Jiang Wanyin all the way out here.
In the end, he falls back onto old habits, stammering out an “I-I don’t know!”
Jiang Wanyin’s suspicion only surges higher from such a non-answer. The corner of his lip curls downward, and his steely eyes narrow sharper than the violet blade always strapped to his slim waist.
“Keep away from me,” he hisses, the words dripping with venom. “You and I have no business with each other.”
Nie Huaisang has seen and experienced some terribly harrowing things in his thirty-odd years of living, yet just one searing glower from Jiang Wanyin can cause his knees to tremble beneath his robes. Even after all these years, this person hasn’t changed much. He’s still just as abrasive, still just as standoffish as he was when they were mere students at this place.
But Nie Huaisang also remembers a Jiang Wanyin that carried his former martial sibling on his back after he was beaten black and blue with the Gusu Lan Sect’s disciplinary rod, and a Jiang Wanyin that bore a charming flush of redness on his sharp cheekbones after breaking sect rules and secretly drinking Emperor’s Smile in their dorm rooms. It seems that malleable version of Jiang Wanyin is no more than a fleeting memory now.
Now, they are leaders of their own respective sects, and have witnessed the bitter horrors brought about by war and political strife. The carefree, peaceful days they had once spent together in Gusu have long since turned to ash in the wind.
Nie Huaisang watches Jiang Wanyin stalk off in the opposite direction, feeling as though a large chasm has opened up between them, stretching wide enough to swallow him whole.
The following day, lengthy discussions continue in the Gusu Lan Sect’s conference hall. Nie Huaisang extends only a limited amount of his attention towards the many topics of conversation. There is something much more interesting to him within this hall than cultivation matters.
Jiang Wanyin sits on the opposite side of the room, his back straight and his chin held high. There is a pinch to his brow, deeper than usual, indicating that his mood is extremely poor at the moment.
The reason?
Sect Leader Yao has suddenly decided to make a stink, haranguing Jiang Wanyin over an influx of water abyss appearances in the recent days. Yunmeng is a territory that consists of many marshlands, lakes, and rivers. As such, drownings are common occurrences that often lead to corpses shifting into water ghouls. If not properly dealt with, the resentful energy accumulated from so many deaths will ultimately result in the formation of water abysses.
As the master of Lotus Pier, it naturally falls under Jiang Wanyin’s purview to curb these disasters from occurring in his territory. However, if word on the winds is to be believed, the weather has been quite severe in Yunmeng these past few months, consisting of typhoons and unrelenting heavy rainfall. Even if Jiang Wanyin had sent his cultivators out daily to contend with the surplus of water ghouls, it would be impossible to exorcise them all under such dangerous conditions.
A few water abysses appearing and traveling through Yunmeng’s water channels to other territories is ultimately inevitable.
“Sect Leader Yao,” Jiang Wanyin’s pinched brow twitches as he addresses the other sect leader’s accusations, “If you’re unsatisfied with the way my sect conducts its business, do feel free to handle the matter of water abyss appearances yourself.”
Sect Leader Yao scoffs in disbelief. “First you dare to slack off, and now you dare to shirk your responsibilities onto others? Sect Leader Jiang, do you know no shame?”
Bang!
Several of the gathered men and women flinch in their seats when Jiang Wanyin’s palm makes impact with the table he’s seated at. Nie Huaisang, however, watches unperturbed, enjoying the show.
“Shame? You wish to speak to me about shame?” Jiang Wanyin jumps to his feet, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. “You’re nothing but a coward that’s too frightened to pick up a sword and defend his own territory!”
Gasps fill the room, but nobody dares to interrupt Jiang Wanyin’s sudden tirade. In fact, a few faces show hints of satisfaction. It seems not everyone particularly enjoys listening to Sect Leader Yao’s constant complaining.
Under the scandalized eyes of the other attending cultivators, Jiang Wanyin continues putting Sect Leader Yao in his place. “During the Sunshot Campaign, were you not just as cowardly as a man in his thirties, while I, a mere nineteen-year-old youth was fighting on the front lines alongside a barebones army?! Shame?! Shame?! It seems to me that you would know the meaning of that word very well! Do you dare to continue calling yourself an established cultivator in my presence, Sect Leader Yao?!”
Eyes bulging from his sockets, Sect Leader Yao chokes on his words, unable to retort to Jiang Wanyin’s ruthless and scathing remarks. Meanwhile, Nie Huaisang hasn’t stopped fanning himself, his mouth tugging upwards at each corner.
Well said, well said! Teach that old coot a lesson!
He inwardly applauded Sect Leader Jiang, who has once again lived up to his notorious reputation for bearing a knife-mouth.
After finishing his ranting, Jiang Wanyin retakes his seat, his expression quite ugly. The sight causes a random thought springs to the forefront of Nie Huaisang’s mind. When he’s like this, Jiang Wanyin isn’t so dissimilar from a feral cat. Vicious and solitary, the feral cat hisses and spits at those it considers even slightly bothersome, showing no mercy and no regard towards outsiders. Nie Huaisang suppresses a small chuckle. He can practically envision Jiang Wanyin bearing a set of soft pointed ears, a long flicking tail, and a muzzle full of twitching whiskers. This silly line of thought is disrupted when Lan Qiren announces that today’s discussions be concluded and resumed on the following afternoon.
Sometime later, when Cloud Recesses’ guests are gathered in the dining halls to partake in a lovely banquet, Nie Huaisang opts not to join them at this moment. Instead, he wanders the grounds, sipping on a teapot of warm wine while his mind turns over many thoughts. Eventually, his feet lead him to the same place he’d trailed Jiang Wanyin to the other day. As it would have it, the leader of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect is there as he was the day before, gazing up at the magnolia tree that has only just begun to blossom, elegant white buds scattered on its branches.
Jiang Wanyin’s broad back is faced towards him, his shoulders exuding a cold and lonely aura. Those shoulders must carry so many burdens, all on their own. The sight of them envokes a smidge of melancholy within Nie Huaisang. This time, Jiang Wanyin doesn’t seem to sense his presence; perhaps his mind is too occupied by tumultuous thoughts. Perhaps Sect Leader Yao’s harping from earlier was weighing on him after all.
Though he knows it to be an unwise decision, he can’t help but call out to this solitary man. “We meet again, Sect Leader Jiang.” With his folding fan resting against one arm, Nie Huaisang approaches with light footsteps. “It seems fate has set its sights upon you and I to cross paths again like this.”
Jiang Wanyin glances over his shoulder. The austere man says nothing, so Nie Huaisang eagerly takes this as a good sign.
“That Sect Leader Yao can be such an overbearing nuisance. Although the others won’t speak their inner thoughts aloud, they all feel the same way. No need to pay him any mind, Jiang-xiong.”
Rather than appreciating his advice, Jiang Wanyin glares at Nie Huaisang as if he’d just plucked a whisker from his muzzle. “Who asked you?! Mind your damn business!” The other sect leader practically yowls at him, hackles raised and teeth bared.
Nie Huaisang hastily backs away, and an apology tumbles from his lips, “S-Sorry…”
Despite the apology, Jiang Wanyin’s anger hardly seems abated. He curls his lip, the oppressive aura emanating from his imposing figure growing by the second. Unbeknownst to Nie Huaisang, Jiang Wanyin’s poor mood has nothing to do with Sect Leader Yao. The man has been on edge ever since he first arrived to Gusu. Thoughts of his former martial sibling, who now resides in this place, plague his mind. Fortunately, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had departed on a journey weeks ago, and won’t be back in time to attend the remainder of the conference. Should the three of them have crossed paths here, there’s no telling what trouble would have occurred.
After receiving such a violent tongue lashing, Nie Huaisang can only hastily retreat to his temporary residence and lick at his smarting wounds. He’d known it had been a bad idea from the start, yet something about Jiang Wanyin is still so alluring to him that he couldn’t resist approaching the man despite his warnings to stay away.
He can’t help but want to know this person again. Like he had once before.
Even the domesticated cat is a complicated, multi-faceted creature that requires skill to understand and successfully engage with. To tame a feral cat is surely a fool’s errand.
Therefore, Nie Huaisang must be a fool.