dumbshow | highly new, slightly improved open post

[The thing is, when it's over, it isn't really over. The cultivation world is shaken by what happens, and shaken still when one of Gusu Lan's Twin Jades runs off to get married and the other goes into seclusion to ruminate on the lifelong shame of having ever loved Jin Guangyao.

(Or as the rest of the world might put it, the respectable mourning period needed after being deceived by such a villain, but Huaisang prefers his version of events. He loved Meng Yao once too, though not as blindly, not as long. He sends Gusu Lan a polite letter with congratulations for one and condolences for the other, not that Lan Xichen or Wangji will see either for some time.)

—And the chaos at Lanling Jin is even worse; the Lan Clan can at least handle themselves, more or less constantly secluded all the time as they are, but for the most powerful clan in the cultivation world to suddenly find itself shamed, leaderless, and with a teenager the rightful heir to the clan's leadership? It's a mess. Some of it is even an embarrassment, in the mouths of certain people. It's those same people who look at Nie Huaisang with fresh eyes, gazes turned appraising from critical, and Huaisang can't say he notices. He nods and bows and conducts himself in the right way to all the right people out of habit, but it's a habit without his carefully calculated bumbling mixed in anymore. He doesn't head-shake, or back away from decisions; with the state of the most powerful clans in disarray, he is decisions, as far as anyone is concerned.

Not many people are. Some are, but they're either on his side or relieved that he seems to have miraculously come into his own since the truth of his brother's murder has come to light. It's about time, many of them say in taverns, some of them in toast, and it is. It's about time for a lot of things.

Huaisang realizes Jiang Cheng is concerned only when he bothers to pay attention to him again; the Jiang Clan, too, has its own problems to work out. So much reputation built on the back of chasing down Wei Wuxian, only for that colorful truth to come out all at once in the end, as well... Huaisang wonders what it feels like to see Wei Wuxian again and then watch him leave with Lan Wangji just as abruptly. Is it worth it, he wonders.

At least one of them has his brother back.

So it's after weeks, or maybe even months, that Huaisang doesn't request Jiang Cheng's presence so much as idly suggest it at a Discussion Conference and wait for the pieces to fall into place. He knows Jiang Cheng, after all; it's been years and years, whole lifetimes almost, since they were twin shadows of Wei Wuxian at Cloud Recesses, but Huaisang wagers that some of that same boy is still buried deep. After all, under his own years of resentment, of scheming, of hatred and envy and unspeakable acts, the boy who cried and tantrumed when his brother burned his paper fans is still there, waiting. There's easily nostalgia in it; he might even admit it under pressure.

It is what it is, then: eventually, Jiang Cheng takes the bait, or more accurately Jiang Cheng sees the bait for what it is and finally gives in to the unspoken fact between them that of their shared past, they two have only each other left. Letters are exchanged, a date set, tea laid out. The main house at Qinghe Nie has flourished under Huaisang's touch, compared to when Nie Mingjue led the clan: more gardens, for one, more open air and beautiful hanging scrolls, a painting somewhere lovingly given to Mingjue by Lan Xichen that Huaisang keeps for... reasons. It's brighter, overall; they can call his lands the Unclean Realm but he doesn't have to live like it.

A servant leads Jiang Cheng through the place when he arrives, taking him to a wide, open room for taking tea that spills onto a courtyard. The doors are open to let in the air and the light and Huaisang is out there, not inside, fan folded and put away at his waist as he wags a finger at a songbird in a cage. He glances back at the wide doorway after the servant has excused themselves.]

Jiang-xiong, you made it. The weather was beautiful for your journey— lucky!

[Should he turn and bow... like, yeah, but they went to high school together and a few months ago he watched Jiang Cheng cry like a baby and make his teenage nephew uncomfortable, so what's really the point of formalities anymore.]

[He would say it's odd coming here after so many years, but honestly? It's odd going anywhere nowadays. After the Sunshot campaign, after thirteen years of choking on his hatred and his fury, after revelations and relief and grief and tears, after all of it-- well, there's nowhere in the world Jiang Cheng can go that isn't haunted by memories.

At least in the Unclean Realm, the ghosts aren't so personal.

And really, he can't describe the relief that comes from Nie Huaisang ignoring propriety and simply greeting him. Not like a sect leader, not with all the bells and whistles that their respective rankings require, but ordinarily. Like a friend. Like nothing has changed (though everything has changed); like they're teenagers again, getting up too early and waiting around for their leader to get them into trouble once more. Like nothing truly awful has happened, like they two of them haven't been shattered to pieces twice over and put themselves together as best they could.

There's no pity in Huaisang's eyes, either.]

Mmph. We'll see if it holds.

[Not that he's here to bask in not having to be Sandu Shengshou for a few minutes. He's here for Nie Huaisang, because there's no one else in the world who knows what it is to spend years in a murderous rage after something precious was taken from you. At least Jiang Cheng got to express his anger on the outside.

But it's one thing to intend that and another to actually do it. He's never been one for comfort. That was always his sister's job. And though he could try, he's almost positive he'll fuck it up.

So he lets them talk for a little bit. It's not about anything, just idle topics that are safe: the weather, to start, and then some of the more basic trials and tribulations of running a sect. Jiang Cheng brings up his brat of a nephew more than once, because that's an easy topic too (though it hurts a little, now that the boy is off on his own). They sip their tea and he dutifully listens to a few facts about the songbird chirping in its cage, and then when the time is right, he speaks.]

. . . how did you stand it?

[Hm, that's not what he meant to say. But it is a question that he's had on his mind the entire journey here, his thoughts inevitably dragging back towards the last time they'd seen one another.]

For so many years . . . how the hell did you manage to keep it to yourself?

[Ah, the cursing is almost as bad as not bowing, but consider: they're way past that.]

[A casual meeting for tea is nice, like this; without pretense. Jiang Cheng is right— out of everyone left in their world, there is no one Nie Huaisang can be around without it being at least a little performative but him. It's been a performance for years and years, letting his embarrassing reputation carry him into places he might have otherwise been noticed; letting it slip him into spaces too small for a sect leader but just right for Nie Huaisang, Head-Shaker, disappointment too harmless to despise.

So it's relaxing, in its own way, to sit here and chatter with Jiang Cheng about weather and Jin Ling and songbirds. It isn't like he's pretending nothing has happened, that would require acting, they're simply... talking. Like it's normal. Like they aren't who they are, two of the most powerful men in the world, which Huaisang never wanted anyway and Jiang Cheng wanted somewhat differently.

Therefore.

When Jiang Cheng asks him, how?, it doesn't take him by surprise. He might even say he expected it sooner or later, the natural point around which their conversation would tiptoe a while before getting to the center of things. His cup is halfway to his lips when the questions come, so he pauses, looking at Jiang Cheng for a moment with eyes clear and considering; no judgment.

Then he shrugs and finishes taking a sip.]

No one ever wanted to listen to me, anyway, [he offers, as if it was that simple. As if he didn't have to see Jin Guangyao in close quarters and often, and call him brother, and simper and whine and beg for his affections like an idiot and not a snake. It's Jin Guangyao's own fault he got bitten. Too confident.

But, ah, Jiang Cheng isn't really asking about the logistics, is he? Huaisang doesn't care that they're speaking about this openly, no one is around to hear, so-]

My cultivation is still poor, like it was back then— someone like me can't make a scene like you did, all those years you were searching.

[Hmm. Hunting? Details. He lowers his cup some and leans forward on his elbows, dismantling what was left of their proper manners. Jiang Cheng, best buddyyy...]

Jiang-xiong... Promise you won't think ill of me if I tell you the rest?

[It's the answer to the question he asked, but not the one he meant. How could you stand it, how could you manage it, because Jiang Cheng spent thirteen years with his rage and his grief, and sometimes even that wasn't enough to get him out of bed in the morning.

But he leans forward, and god help him, but Jiang Cheng's attention is still caught by that. Not crudely, but rather startlingly, a flash of a realization that leaves him blinking. Isn't that funny? It's been years, and it's not as if he's been pining, but maybe now's the first time in years and years he's actually had room to let such a feeling exist.

Anyway. Back to the actual conversation, and after a few moments of contemplation he nods. He's far from the charitable type, but on the other hand . . . what little he does know, he approves. He really does. So no, he won't think ill of Huaisang.]

Tell me.

[Had they had this conversation years ago it would have been dangerous, Huaisang thinks. Had Jiang Cheng come over for tea and privacy before Jin Guangyao fell, before Huaisang orchestrated the means to return Wei Wuxian to the world, well— they would have stood on the edge of a precipice, the two of them, and he wouldn't have hesitated to send them both over the edge. Part of him thinks Jiang Cheng would have welcomed it, all things considered.

But this is now; things have settled. The world still turns, even if the two of them are still here, thinking about it, talking about it. Ruminating.]

I really hated him. [No, wait, obviously that's not it—] I hated him too much walk away with only his life, so I thought, what would be the best way to take everything from him? My brother was his sworn brother, and he still threw him away for his own sake.

[He sighs, looking down at his cup and swirling the tea around idly. The motion makes some of his hair fall forward over his shoulder, but that's probably not intentional.]

It took a long time to take him apart in a way that made everyone else hate him, too. And in the end, [a pause; hmm] I wanted him to know what I'd done.

[It's low and it's rotten and his brother would hate him for it, ironically enough, but what's done is done. How could he stand it? Well—]

Once I'd decided that, it wasn't as hard as it sounds.

[It's not just petty, but cruel. Like a spider playing with its meal, watching as it struggles on the web and entangles itself further and further. It's cruel, but of all people, Jiang Cheng doesn't have any room to judge others on cruel ways to find satisfaction.

Besides: he gets it. He really does. It's not death that brings satisfaction, not at all, but revenge. If you can make your enemy feel a fraction of as awful as you do, if you can make any other person in this world feel as badly as you do, even for a second . . . god, if he had a scrap of patience, he probably would have done the same things.]

I don't think ill of you.

[As if it matters what he thinks. But it does, in a way, and suddenly it's important that Nie Huaisang knows that.]

I would have . . .

I tortured people. Anyone I thought might be him, anyone who practiced those things. I tortured them and I killed them, and I'm still not sorry for it. I'm not--

[It's complicated, what he feels for Wei Wuxian. He still hasn't sorted it out. But he isn't sorry for what he's done these past thirteen years.]

How can I think ill of you?

[It takes more patience than a man should have to do the things Huaisang has done. The years spent moving his pieces, playing his part, setting his trap— years. Most of his life now, in terms of sheer time. And was it worth it? As Jiang Cheng sits before him now and speaks of his own ills, a reflection of himself that projects outward while Huaisang pulls in, was it worth it?]

Just checking, [he says, and then,] It felt terrible at first, didn't it?

[It did for him; each black spot on his soul threatened to climb out of his throat and leave him gutted, every time, until he had too many black spots for it to matter anymore. None of them could fit over the hole torn in his heart when his brother died, so was it worth it?

Jiang Cheng says he isn't sorry and Huaisang isn't either, but they both know neither of them are creatures like Jin Guangyao or Wen Chao, that took sick pleasure in hurting people who didn't deserve it. No— no, it's always gone deeper than that. Revenge always does.]

Well, how do you feel now? Better?

[lol]

[He scoffs out a laugh, the noise shared instead of scornful.]

Do you?

[It's not a real question-- or at least, not one that requires a serious answer. He relaxes a little, reaching for his tea, regarding Huaisang with a friendlier gaze. Sips his tea, and then:]

. . . yes. But it was better than feeling nothing.

[It's not a self-pitying statement. It's not even sad. It's just a statement of fact, a vulnerability offered only because there's no point in hiding it.]

Wasn't it?

[And Huaisang, who of course can see this reaction for what it is, smiles an earnest, genuine smile. It's small, half hidden behind his cup as he raises it again, but it reaches his eyes more easily than expected. His gaze is bright, then, while he cants his head to one side and considers Jiang Cheng further.]

Oh, it was, it was! I just wanted to hear you say it.

[Does that make him feel better? It makes him feel, at least, a little bit less alone. That's something.]

But Jiang-xiong, the other feelings are still there.

[Which of course Jiang Cheng knows; it's Huaisang's offer of vulnerability, in turn. Doesn't life still kind of suck? Yeah!]

[Of course they are. And yet maybe if he never, ever admits it, it's almost like they're not. It almost works. It almost does, and some days that's good enough.]

So what do you do with them now?

[Because that's the question, isn't it? Now that it's all done, now that there's no Jin Ling to raise, now that Wei Wuxian is gone in a far worse way, now that he's just left with Lotus Pier and a flock of young cultivators that he can't bear to get to know, now that he's got nothing but work, what now?

What do I do now, and it's such a childish question. His temper, always waiting, flares up, and he scowls.]

Forget it.

[And naturally, in his haste to find something else to discuss, he stumbles right into the next most awkward topic:]

You must be getting pressure to marry by now. Perhaps you should have kept up the act a little longer.

[To his credit, it's a question Huaisang almost answers. The thing that he's built his whole life around is now over, and it was never a plan for the future, it was always going to be over and done with and that's it. So. What does a person do, after that?

He opens his mouth to speak and closes it again, thinking better of it for now, all while Jiang Cheng lets his temper get away with him across the table. Of course he does; Huaisang can't help but find it endearing the way he did back when they were young— Wei Wuxian had captivated everyone, it's true, but Huaisang had watched Jiang Cheng with a different kind of... well.

Well now they're talking about marriage, speaking of, and he hastily waves a hand and sputters, more than a little of his old self showing through. God! Marriage!]

I don't think so, I don't know— [ahem] As long as I can turn over a cousin with some cultivation strength better than mine, I can get away with it.

[The perfect crime: not having to get married. Thank god he lazed around in school too much to develop a proper core or he might have to be worried.]

The other sects are more tolerant of me now, but besides my leadership, I'm not much of a prospect...

You're the head of your sect.

[It's a trump card, to be sure. And honestly, though it might be unconventional, he's certain any minor clan would overlook Huaisang's cultivation level in favor of his pedigree. It'd be a powerful match.

Not that it matters. Not that it's any of his business. But he doesn't like Huaisang putting himself down like that, when the truth is--]

And even if you weren't, you aren't lacking as a prospect. Don't be stupid. Just because your cultivation isn't high . . . you just spent over a decade trapping the man who killed your brother. You're-- you're unbelievably clever and dedicated.

Any clan would be stupid not to want to marry their heir to you.

[haha tricked jiang cheng into complimenting him--

Or no, not quite; this much angrily singing his praises is a surprise, if only because, honestly— he's practicing his excuses to get out of marriage prospects, here. "Lacking as a prospect" totally not going to work, if Jiang Cheng will so immediately spin it back into praise...

But that said,] You're the only one who would think what I did to Jin Guangyao is clever and dedicated, Jiang-xiong.

[Just... saying. Most of the cultivation world lacks their unique perspective, as it were.]

Would you? If you had an heir? We could be sworn brothers.

[unless......?]

Would I--

[He honest to god doesn't know what he means at first. Not out of stupidity, but an heir is so far from Jiang Cheng's thoughts as to lack meaning. For so many years, Jin Ling was his only concern; he had no time to think of siring a child when raising the one he already had was so exhausting. Between the brat and his all-consuming hatred for Wei Wuxian, no one had ever had the nerve to think of pushing him to produce an heir. And now--

Well, it's not as if he's particularly popular with women. Has anyone else ever been blacklisted? Probably not.]

You'd be too old by the time they came of age.

[It's a scoffed response, not unfriendly.]

If you want an alliance, you're going to have to get it another way.

We were at Cloud Recesses together!

[Is he not entitled to an alliance by virtue of sheer time? He is! Time and history and having just enough things in common that would turn other people away: Huaisang's ideal checklist. For an alliance.

Still, this is just... Well, this is Huaisang waving his hands and giving Jiang Cheng his very best imploring look until he gets his alliance, serious or not. Some part of him has already taken it for granted that if he needed someone on his side, that person would be Jiang Cheng; so the stupid bit about heirs is fun, but throw him a bone.]

Jiang-xiong! You wouldn't leave me high and dry, would you?

Maybe.

[No. It's not a fervent answer, but rather quiet and unassuming: no, he wouldn't, because they've been through so much together. But not just that. Because now he sees the truth of Huaisang, who he is beneath all the easy fluster and prettiness, and he very much understands that person.

But saying that would be embarrassing. And anyway, this is more fun.]

An alliance has to go both ways. What can you offer me, Sect Leader Nie?

[Oh, is it an earnest negotiation now? Perhaps "earnest" is the wrong word, maybe more like... not-entirely-facetious, but that's Huaisang's favorite kind, anyway. He all but actually pouts at Jiang Cheng for a second more, brow furrowed in affected worry, before he hums and really thinks about it. Hmm, hmm...]

Besides my prestige, you mean? I'm clever and dedicated, according to some people.

[For all intents and purposes, his sect is doing marginally better than Jiang Cheng's at the moment, admirable and impressive as his efforts at restoring Lotus Pier have been. But that's not important, because Huaisang doesn't care about sect power at all, in the end— but he cares about Jiang Cheng.

He leans forward on his elbow again, considering him.]

My cultivation isn't too high, [don't @ him, it's not a put down,] I come from a good family, I- ah... I'm not too loud?

[He waves a hand, look, the point being don't do this with someone you've known since you were like 14, bud:] What score do I make off your list?

[He scoffs out another laugh, and it's . . . nice, really, to be able to do that. To not have to tense up in the next second, wondering what Huaisang might say next, how he might get them in trouble with other clans or ruin the Jiang reputation. It's nice to just--

It's nice to just talk without any real stakes involved. Nice to be able to divert on this stupid tangent, which means nothing at all; nice to be able to weave in and out of topics without worrying if the other man thinks him broken or pitiable.]

You passed.

[A beat, and then:]

You're not too loud.

[Of all the selling points, bud.]

[Jiang Cheng, please love him as he is, thanks. He scoffs and picks up his cup, but ah- empty.]

How do you expect me to remember the whole list? I got three!

[And he passed, which first, thank you, of course he did-- and second, hmm! He'll have to think about that. But not here, because the tea has run out, and so as he puts his cup down and moves back to get to his feet:]

Come with me and I'll show you around.

[Bird tour? Bird tour. He nods toward the open door and the sprawling garden beyond; it's a nice day, Jiang Cheng, come spend it enjoying the scenery with him. They can waste some time together without a care in the world for a little bit longer.

And back to the topic at hand...]

You know, your nephew is probably going to be married before either of us.

[Bird tour, which he'll put up with for the chance to move around. Besides: it's an incredibly stupid thought, but he does like how Huaisang's hair looks in the sunlight. Especially now, when everything in the Unclean Realm is so much more colorful than it used to be.

He'd have been content with just looking. But ugh, Jin Ling getting married, and he scowls.]

He's still a child.

[No, he's not.]

Besides: there's two people in the world who can stand him. It doesn't matter which he picks; I'm not going to be sworn to the Lans twice over.

[Well, it's time for this bird tour, complete with Huaisang smoothly retrieving his fan and fluttering it idly, so that he doesn't immediately say something like, "That's one more than you!"— no, no. That doesn't sound as innocent as he initially thinks.

But it is true, so as the only person in the world who can stand Jiang Cheng, follow him down this sunlit path into the spotty shade of some young trees. It's all very scenic.]

He's as old as we were back then, [he points out, like, remember Back Then... not that Huaisang participated in much, but they weren't much older than Jin Ling when the Sunshot Campaign took off.] The Lan juniors are sensible, for the most part...

[Well, one of them is. That's enough.]

Is he picking one? I didn't think he would tell you.

He doesn't. That doesn't mean he's subtle about it.

[Is it mean he puts on a slight falsetto in order to mock his beloved nephew? Probably. Eh.]

Everything is Lan Sizhui says and Lan Sizhui tells me . . . he never shuts up about him, even if half of it's complaining. He's shameless.

Edited 2020-03-21 05:23 (UTC)

[Oh it's definitely mean to mock his own nephew, and it's just as mean for Huaisang to laugh, but does that stop him having a good chuckle behind his fan? Not at all.]

It's good that he finally has a friend his own age...

[A Friend. Anyway, what's with your family and those Lans, huh? It truly is a Thing.]

I could talk to him. Maybe I'll learn something for you.

[That's--

. . . actually, that's a good idea. A really good idea, actually, because Huaisang has just spent about ten years proving he's the champion when it comes to getting information out of others, never mind put it to use.]

You'll have to visit soon if you want to catch him.

[Hell yes, Nie Huaisang, sect leader, taking an extensive trip just to wheedle gossip out of a teenager. Now this is the best use of his power and status, for sure.

He shuts his fan and taps it resolutely against Jiang Cheng's shoulder, nodding.]

Just tell me when and I'll make the arrangements. You'll owe me one, Jiang-xiong.

i found live actions icons just for you AND WROTE THIS NOVEL IG

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