Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

This wasn’t love. That was what they’d agreed upon from the start. They were both too far gone for something like love—their hearts had long since hardened, ill-suited for the delicate subtleties that love required. Jiang Cheng suspected that even if they wanted to love, they would find themselves incapable of offering each other such a thing.

Desire, Jiang Cheng learned, flourished even in love’s absence. It surged hot and fast through his veins at the sight of Nie Huaisang’s spread thighs, marks still lingering from the last rendezvous they had. He felt it burning through his chest as Huaisang raked lines down his back, breaths coming in short, desperate gasps: “Jiang Wanyin, Jiang Wanyin, please, please.”

It started after the absolute disaster at Guanyin temple was over. Wei Wuxian had ridden off into the sunset with Lan Wangji. One of the Lan Sect disciples ran after them, and the other grabbed Jin Ling to chase after the first. For once, Jiang Cheng let his nephew leave without complaint. He knew that in the future, there would be fewer and fewer chances for Jin Ling to go off so freely.

Only Nie Huaisang had lingered behind, dipping down to collect something from the ground. Jiang Cheng saw movement out the corner of his eye and paused at the temple’s entrance, standing just out of sight.

“What are you doing?” His eyes narrowed. Huaisang wore a strange expression. One corner of his mouth twisted up in a semblance of a smile, with something like triumph glittering from the distant depths of his eyes. In that moment, he looked nothing like the useless head-shaker he was known as. Jiang Cheng was startled enough to take a step back.

“Ah…” Huaisang’s expression changed the instant he saw Jiang Cheng. He looked down at the hat in his hands. “This is san ge’s—I mean, Sect Leader Jin’s—I—I mean—I…” With the way he trembled and the tearful look on his face, he was almost convincing. Something in Jiang Cheng’s mind clicked.

If he hadn’t caught the shift in Huaisang’s appearance, he would have been fooled, too. That wasn’t the air of an innocent, helpless man caught in the crossfires.

“I—I thought…” Huaisang continued to whimper. “He should be buried with it, shouldn’t he…? Even… even if he did do all of that… he was still…”

Jiang Cheng didn’t know how Huaisang could bear to put on such an act. His eyes darkened. “Wei Wuxian didn’t call you out on it, but I will.”

When Wei Wuxian had presented his questions earlier, Nie Huaisang had vehemently denied everything. Jiang Cheng had scoffed, thinking that the sun would sooner rise from the west before Nie Huaisang was able to pull off a plan like that.

Now, he was beginning to piece a larger picture together.

“What… what are you talking about, Sect Leader Jiang…?” Huaisang asked innocently, hiding behind his fan.

“Don’t pull that shit with me.” Jiang Cheng scowled. “I know what you did.” He thought of Jin Guangyao’s last words, the bitterness that had dripped from his mouth, the look of true surprise that he'd worn. What a head-shaker you are! Hiding for so many years, it must have really been difficult for you.

Huaisang wore cluelessness well—it was what the world had grown to expect from him. Even if he’d only been a subpar actor, people would still only see what they wanted to see. Jiang Cheng knew this. No one would ever think that Nie Huaisang was capable of such an intricate scheme, and that was exactly how he’d gotten away with it.

What kind of a person was Nie Huaisang, really? Dangerous, clearly. All the more so because he didn’t look it. He was unlike anyone Jiang Cheng had ever seen before, and Jiang Cheng certainly wouldn’t make the mistake of underestimating him again.

Nie Huaisang was exactly the type that he should stay far, far away from: a wild card, someone who moved behind the scenes, subtly maneuvering those around him with frightening efficiency. If he so chose, he could easily send Jiang Cheng’s life spinning. Even Jin Guangyao hadn’t seen him coming; what chance did Jiang Cheng have?

“Did… did what?” Huaisang stammered. Evidently, he had no qualms about letting others think the worst of him, if it meant that he got the last laugh. He really had no sense of dignity. It was sickening. Jiang Cheng should be disgusted. He should be repulsed by the devious, calculating, snake of a man in front of him.

That was decidedly not what he felt.

“Sect Leader Jiang…?” Huaisang looked up at him with pleading eyes.

Jiang Cheng didn’t answer. He stepped forward, corning Huaisang against the cold rock lining the inside of the temple.

“I told you to drop the act,” he said lowly. “You can’t fool me. You betrayed one ‘brother’ and killed the other. I know what you’re capable of.” People like Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang hid their goals behind an enigmatic smile, deception cloaking them like a second skin. It was this quality, he thought, that he hated the most.

After all, the ease with which he’d been misled about the core that slept inside him still had him reeling. He’d let his nephew spend half of his life under the care of someone so deadly, whose ruthlessness hadn’t revealed itself until the very end. He couldn’t stand one more person lying so blatantly to his face.

“Ah,” Huaisang’s eyes flitted around as he found himself with his back to the wall, faced with Jiang Cheng’s cold stare. His hands shook and the hat he held tumbled to the floor. Finally, cracks were appearing in his façade.

“Are… are you going to ask why…?”

“No,” Jiang Cheng replied. “I know exactly why you did it.” At least he didn’t have to guess what Huaisang’s motivations were. Revenge was a language that he knew all too well. That wasn’t why he was angry.

“Ah… then…”

“How dare you,” Jiang Cheng hissed. Of the strange series of events they’d been put through, how much had been Huaisang’s orchestration? How many times had he endangered everyone, intentionally or otherwise, for the sake of his own revenge? “Do you not have any regard for the lives of those around you? For your own? If you wanted someone dead, there are much quicker ways.”

For a moment, Huaisang was silent. “I know that,” he answered quietly. As he looked uncertainly from zidian to sandu, fear crossed his delicate features. Even if Huaisang was devious, Jiang Cheng had cornered him and could overpower him physically. It would be easy to hurt him, and yet, he found that he couldn’t raise a single finger.

Underneath his fury, despite all of his efforts to keep it down, something suspiciously close to admiration was emerging. He realized with dismay that he was impressed to learn what Huaisang was actually capable of. While Jiang Cheng had been maniacally hunting down demonic cultivators, hopelessly trying to stamp out every last vestige of Wei Wuxian with no rhyme or reason, Huaisang had been steadily crafting his spider’s web, tightening the strings so slowly and carefully that no one had noticed, not until it was far too late.

A strange thrill ran up his spine, foreign and tantalizing.

Huaisang took one look at Jiang Cheng’s face, and understanding seemed to dawn over him. He smiled, and the red that colored Jiang Cheng’s skin had little to do with fury.

To his growing horror, he felt want rising as Huaisang slid a knee up his thigh and leaned in close. This was the true Nie Huaisang, lethal and intoxicating. Jiang Cheng had a feeling that no one had ever seen him like this before. There was something to be said about being the only one let in on a secret.

He should be pushing Huaisang away—that much was clear. He found that he could not. Instead, he leaned forward, his body reacting on its own accord.

Their first kiss was the clashing of teeth and the metallic taste of iron, something that lacked all finesse but made Jiang Cheng’s chest tighten, his body reacting much more quickly than his mind would like. A thrumming filled his ears, drowning out all his thoughts that rang like warning bells, shouting at him to run, run while he still had the chance. Jiang Cheng chose instead to press close against Huaisang, pinning his wrists and trapping him against the wall. The way Huaisang yielded made him react with interest, blood rushing hot and fast between his legs. That was enough to make him want to keep going.

Eventually, the need for air became unbearable, and they were forced to break apart. This was Jiang Cheng’s chance to remove himself from the situation, but he was far more preoccupied with how red Huaisang’s lips were, how his eyes darkened with want.

Huaisang’s gaze dropped lower. “You’re injured,” he said mournfully, fingers ghosting over Jiang Cheng’s wound. Was that actual remorse on his face, or just another act?

“So are you,” Jiang Cheng returned matter-of-factly. His spiritual powers being returned meant that his body would heal much faster than most. He couldn’t say the same for Huaisang, whose cultivation base was still lacking. The cut on Huaisang’s leg was raw and red. That didn’t stop him from smiling, sinking to his knees, and looking up imploringly.

“What are you—”Jiang Cheng hissed as Huaisang pulled at the drawstring of his pants, but any protests soon died down. His eyes closed on reflex when Huaisang took him into his mouth. When he opened them again, he didn’t even want to blink, for fear that he’d miss the sight of Huaisang’s rosy lips around him, taking him in all the way to the base. The sensation was overwhelming. Needless to say, Jiang Cheng had never experienced anything like it before. Even when he felt himself hit the back of Huaisang’s throat, Huaisang never faltered, continuing until the edges of Jiang Cheng’s vision started to blur, his limbs going weak. A low groan escaped him.

Just as he swore he couldn’t hold back any longer, Huaisang pulled off. Jiang Cheng let out a string of curses, but Huaisang tugged him down and guided his hand between his legs, and any further complaints were silenced. Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened as he realized what Huaisang wanted.

He had no idea where to even start, but with Huaisang coaxing him with a coy smile playing upon his lips, how could he refuse? Just like that, Jiang Cheng found himself mesmerized. He simply couldn’t pull away, watching in fascination as his fingers disappeared inside of Huaisang one after the other. He marveled at the reactions he could receive with just the slightest of movements.

Later, as he slid in bit by bit, he learned that he liked Huaisang on his back, exposed and defenseless. Tears streaked down his cheeks. Whether he was crying from pain, grief, or remorse, Jiang Cheng did not know. When he paused, thinking that he should say something, Huaisang only wrapped his legs around Jiang Cheng’s back and took him the rest of the way.

What happened next was a blur. There was only white-hot pleasure as Jiang Cheng sank his teeth into Huaisang’s shoulder, and Huaisang’s nails dug into his back. Jiang Cheng had to bite his lip to keep the sounds from leaving his throat, but Huaisang cried out loudly enough for the both of them.

And if Guanyin temple hadn’t been desecrated enough that night, the merging of their blood and bodies echoing throughout the temple walls would have been enough to do the trick.

Jiang Cheng was promptly dropped back to cold reality afterwards. He jerked back, pulling himself to his feet.

“This was—”

“A mistake?” Huaisang asked, raising an eyebrow. He looked thoroughly ravaged, but even when he’d come apart, Jiang Cheng never lost the impression that he remained in control of the entire situation.

“An isolated incident.” Jiang Cheng finished. He hurriedly dressed himself, averting his eyes from the red and purple that lined Huaisang’s collar, the spots where he’d bitten hard enough to break skin.

Huaisang didn’t seem to be listening. “Mm,” he answered, casually brushing his hair and inspecting his nails. He dusted the dirt off on his robes with a small frown.

“It won’t happen again,” Jiang Cheng emphasized, although he didn’t know who he was trying to convince—himself, or Nie Huaisang?

“Okay,” Huaisang agreed easily. “Whatever you want, Jiang-xiong.”

Jiang Cheng really had intended on keeping his word, believing that what they had done would never happen again. As it turned out, they came together again a week later, after the burial ceremony where Huaisang was officially appointed Chief Cultivator. Jiang Cheng didn’t know what came over him. Something about seeing how Huaisang carried himself now, poised and elegant, affected him in a way that he didn’t have a name for. And as much as Huaisang’s eyes lit up as Jiang Cheng approached, laughing as he watched him eat his words, that smug expression was wiped off his face when Jiang Cheng bent him over and held him down, and soon the only sounds coming from him were pleased moans muffled into a pillow.

“Congratulations,” Jiang Cheng told him. “Did you get what you want? Are you satisfied?”

“Not nearly,” came Huaisang’s reply. “Not yet.” He’d arched his back, offering Jiang Cheng a view of how his waist dipped in, the jut of his hips. “I want more.”

And Jiang Cheng really couldn’t say how they’d gotten there, or what it was that took him over during these moments. If their first tryst could be explained as a moment of weakness, their second couldn’t be dismissed so easily. Jiang Cheng vowed that he would have to be more careful, if this were to continue. With the way that he held onto the curve of Huaisang’s hips, and the heat that enveloped him with each thrust, he could no longer be so sure that Nie Huaisang was someone he could just walk away from.

With Huaisang’s new title placed onto him like a crown, bimonthly meetings were now held in his residence to discuss what would be done with the disarrayed state of the cultivational world. After each meeting, Jiang Cheng would wait, standing at the entrance of the conference hall, looking like he would take off with all of the other visitors at any moment. However, he’d linger after everyone else had gone, and Huaisang’s eyes would catch his.

He’d always hated discussion conferences before, the forced decorum, the way no one said what they meant and instead talked in circles, around and around again until his mind was sent whirling. The fake, plastered smiles, true intentions masquerading behind a cover of pleasantries. What was the point, Jiang Cheng thought, if everyone knew that everyone else was lying? Wouldn’t it be quicker to just say what you meant?

Huaisang, of course, fit right in.

Now, Jiang Cheng could tune out during this exchange of niceties, thinking instead about what would come after. Huaisang was always the picture-perfect host, well-mannered with an infinite reservoir of patience. He offered thoughtful pieces of insight to break stiff silences, well-timed and perfectly delivered. The rest of the world was surprised. Jiang Cheng was not.

But, Huaisang was so different from the nervous, fidgety boy Jiang Cheng had met so many years ago, the one who’d hid behind him when he was scared and begged to copy Wei Wuxian’s homework. Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but wonder when he’d changed.

“We’re not in a relationship,” Jiang Cheng said as Huaisang led him through the maze of halls that made up Qinghe’s main compound, empty save for the two of them.

“Of course not,” Huaisang replied, laughing a little. “I mean, could you imagine…?”

“We’re not anything.”

“Nothing at all,” he echoed.

“No one can know.” This was his fear—that he’d be humiliated, that his weakness would be exposed for all to see. “If anyone asks, I’ll deny it.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Huaisang smiled. “I don’t have anyone to tell, anyways. Now, will you take me to bed?”

That was a request that Jiang Cheng could never turn down.

They were both inexperienced at the start of this. For Jiang Cheng, that was part of the appeal. Any self-consciousness that he had about his own lack of expertise was quickly dismissed when he told himself that Huaisang had never known anyone else, either. There was no need to worry about contending against any former partners. Ten years of planning revenge had left little time to pursue attraction, Huaisang had told him. His body never showed the telltale signs of someone else’s presence, and Jiang Cheng didn’t care to inquire further.

What they lacked in experience, they made up for with intensity. When they came together, it was nothing short of electric. They couldn’t seem to get enough of each other, losing themselves to self-indulgence. Jiang Cheng left marks on every inch of skin he could reach, and the way Huaisang clung to him was nothing short of possessive. It was an utter descent into hedonism. In these moments, Jiang Cheng could only think of Nie Huaisang. All other reason, obligation, and sense flew out the window.

They’d always return, though, after the fact.

“I have somewhere you can leave through,” Huaisang told him after their first meeting at Qinghe, as Jiang Cheng was getting dressed. “No one will see you. That’s what you want, right?”

Jiang Cheng nodded mutely, and Huaisang carelessly threw his inner robe over his shoulders before standing, leading Jiang Cheng to the hidden door that blended into the walls. The ground beneath entrance tilted downwards. It was so dark that Jiang Cheng couldn’t gauge how deep the passageway went.

He stared. “You’re asking me,” he said, “to walk in there, of my own will?”

“Yes,” Huaisang blinked at him. “It’s perfectly safe. I’ve been in and out countless times, and I’m the only one who knows of its existence. Are you scared, Sect Leader Jiang?”

The doorway was pitch-black, but otherwise there wasn’t anything particularly menacing about it. It lacked the presence of any spiritual energy at all.

“If you’re plotting something—” Jiang Cheng began.

“I’m not,” Huaisang replied. He didn’t seem to be hiding any latent intent, but Jiang Cheng knew better than to trust appearances.

“How—”

“How can you believe me?” Huaisang finished for him. “Well,” he grinned. “I suppose you can’t. I don’t think there’s anything I can say to convince you. But why would I be so foolish to want to harm someone who can make me come so many times?”

Jiang Cheng felt his ears burn red.

Huaisang’s voice had a teasing lilt to it. “I’d like to keep you around for at least a little longer…”

Jiang Cheng scowled at that.

“If you really want, though, I’ll go first, to prove it to you.” He moved deftly into the darkness. “See?” he called. A single flame of light appeared. “I’m fine.”

After a moment of deliberation, Jiang Cheng took out zidian and followed. Huaisang extinguished the flame soon afterwards, and zidian lit up the passageway in violet. The space was quite narrow, with only enough room for one person to move forward at a time. They walked in silence. At first, he guessed that they were walking between the walls of the main compound’s halls, but Jiang Cheng could feel them going deeper underground. Where the ground sloped, he had to be careful not to hit his head.

When they’d walked for a while, and no exit was in sight, Jiang Cheng spoke up. “How long is this, anyways?”

“We’re almost there,” Huaisang murmured.

Sure enough, they reached a ladder that led aboveground. Jiang Cheng returned zidian to its ring form, and found himself standing outside of the walls that enclosed the Unclean Realm.

“You said you were the only one who knew about this, right?”

“Yes.”

“You built it?” Jiang Cheng asked. “How?”

Huaisang only smiled. “No one will watch your back for you, Sect Leader Jiang. You should know that better than most.”

“Why tell me about it, then?”

“If you wanted me dead, Jiang Wanyin, you would have killed me at Guanyin.”

Nie Huaisang, always one step ahead. Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to make of him.

Seeing each other became a routine frighteningly quickly—every two weeks, like clockwork. After each meeting, Jiang Cheng would wait, and Huaisang would lead him to his bedroom.

Qinghe's rocky terrain limited what greenery could flourish, but the gardens surrounding Huaisang's quarters were immaculate, an entirely different world. In the nearest corner was the elaborate stand for the songbird that he kept. It was released on warm days when the sky was clear. Even in the face of imminent freedom, it always came back to rest on Huaisang’s finger, as if it knew that it had no hope of survival if it left for good. Huaisang had spared no effort in surrounding himself with beauty. Even so, Jiang Cheng only spared the embellishments a glance or two, mind otherwise occupied.

They would end up like this: desperate, messy kisses, with Huaisang's back pressed against the wall as Jiang Cheng held him up. There was a small bottle of oil kept permanently in Huaisang’s nightstand drawer now, one that Jiang Cheng learned to find without needing to stop and fumble.

Nie Huaisang was a rewarding lover. He was shamelessly vocal, and every part of him seemed to be sensitive. Just a few kisses and a hand up his robes could make him turn a lovely shade of pink, spreading from his cheeks to the tops of his shoulders, soft gasps tumbling from his lips with each breath.

He was flexible, too—Jiang Cheng could fold him over like a ribbon, with Huaisang’s knees thrown over his shoulders to allow Jiang Cheng to push in deeper, until the tops of Huaisang’s thighs met his own torso. Every time Jiang Cheng hesitated, Huaisang only encouraged him further.

More often than not, they wouldn’t even manage to fully undress before they came together. Well, Huaisang would almost be bare. Jiang Cheng preferred to only remove what was necessary. Once, though, Huaisang swiftly undid the ties holding Jiang Cheng’s robes together, kissing down the scar that slashed across his chest before moving lower. It felt too intimate for what they were, or weren’t, and Jiang Cheng froze rigidly.

“Relax,” Huaisang whispered, sinking to his knees. That clever mouth of his could do so much more than spin out lies, Jiang Cheng knew. Huaisang’s tongue slid up the side of his cock, swirling around the head. He ambitiously took the entire length into his throat. Yet again, Jiang Cheng chose not to pull away until he came in hot pulses, watching as Huaisang swallowed without complaint.

After that, Jiang Cheng had less of an issue with discarding his clothes onto the floor.

Their meetings were transactional, always quick and impersonal, a few hurried rounds before Jiang Cheng flew back to Lotus Pier, where a pile of paperwork always waited for him without fail. He didn’t have time to go off gallivanting without a care in the world the way Wei Wuxian did, and he was sure that Huaisang, with his new position as Chief Cultivator, had matters to attend to as well. Huaisang didn’t seem to have much room for leisure, if the state of his desk said anything, with scrolls and brushes thrown haphazardly every which way.

Jiang Cheng had never given much thought to want or desire, but summer was quickly approaching. Qinghe was cooler than Yunmeng, and much less humid. There was nothing wrong with getting a release every now and then, he told himself. Besides, there were benefits to dual cultivation, weren’t there? This was the best arrangement for both of them. Between his duties at Lotus Pier and his visits to keep an eye on Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng couldn’t afford to worry about another person. He reasoned that Nie Huaisang didn’t need someone to worry about him, anyways.

After all, they weren’t anything.

Even though Jiang Cheng now knew that Nie Huaisang was far more than his pleasant demeanor would suggest, the true extent of his abilities remained a mystery, and Jiang Cheng still found himself caught off guard each time a new revelation unearthed itself.

Perhaps the biggest surprise came during a point of tension in Koi Tower, in a spare assembly room with the windows sealed and the curtains drawn shut. It was far from being one of Jiang Cheng’s worst hours, but as the conversation progressed, he felt the veins in his temples begin to pound as he paced back and forth.

Half a dozen or so of the senior Jin officials that had been there since Jin Guangshan’s time had grown accustomed to the luxury and power that they’d had under him. Jiang Cheng vaguely remembered their protests when Jin Guangyao had become Sect Leader, but they’d quickly shut their mouths with record speed after Guangyao gained prominence as Chief Cultivator, and proved himself to be quite the diplomat.

They sensed that, under Jin Ling, things would change, and they would have neither the influence nor the lifestyle that they’d once thought were constants. They said that Jin Ling was too soft, too inexperienced, and that the spoiled young mistress of Lanling had no business being Sect Leader. Their argument was that until Jin Ling matured, the task of running Lanling and watching over Koi Tower should be left to more seasoned hands.

Jiang Cheng didn’t want to put such a heavy burden on Jin Ling, either. He was young, and Jiang Cheng had thought that Jin Ling had a bit longer before he had to preside over an entire sect. He’d been so determined to ensure that Jin Ling wouldn’t have to grow up any faster than he already had.

Jin Guangyao had always told Jiang Cheng that his position was always meant to be temporary, that he would gladly step aside once A-Ling felt that he was ready. Jiang Cheng wouldn’t pretend to know if that was the truth or not. What he did know was that if Jin Ling renounced the title that was rightfully his, he would never reclaim it again. And that, along with the fact that these advisors dared to voice such contempt in front of Jin Ling’s face, without any shred of respect or regard, made Jiang Cheng more than hostile.

To Jin Ling’s credit, he held back and did not jump up hotly in defense of himself. Jiang Cheng couldn’t say that he was able to do the same when he was Jin Ling’s age. He kept his gaze steady, mouth pressed into a thin line, and sat silently.

“There’s nothing more to discuss,” Jiang Cheng said icily, and Jin Ling’s eyes flew over to him. “A-Ling is the next heir. He shows promise in cultivation. Why should anyone other than him preside over Lanling?”

“Uncle,” Jin Ling began, but Jiang Cheng waved him off.

“If your concern is that he lacks knowledge,” he continued. “I assure you that I do not,” his smile was tight and sharp.

“You’ll use Lanling for the benefit of your Yunmeng!” Was the accusation that followed.

“Why would I screw over my own nephew?” Jiang Cheng asked.

He was met with a twisted, simpering smile in return. “You wouldn’t be the first, now, would you?”

Jin Ling’s eyes widened at that, looking like he wanted to speak up again.

“Chaos really does seem to follow your family around, doesn’t it, Sect Leader Jiang?”

“Don’t compare me to the likes of him,” Jiang Cheng warned lowly. On his finger, zidian gave out a flash of warning.

“Are you threatening us? Lanling and Yunmeng have been on good terms for so long, it would really be a pity if that were to change, don’t you think, Sect Leader?”

Having someone else to watch over Jin Ling had been sorely needed, even if that other person was Jin Guangyao. Jiang Cheng hadn’t been inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. Though, as he’d watched Jin Ling holding onto Fairy in the days following Jin Guangyao’s death, Jiang Cheng wanted to believe, for his nephew’s sake, that Guangyao was more than the picture painted by his tattered reputation. Or, at least, that he wouldn’t care more for his father’s sycophants.

Did it matter, either way? Jin Guangyao was already dead and gone, and now the task of shielding Jin Ling was placed solely on Jiang Cheng’s shoulders once more. His fists clenched.

“I’m not here to entertain you,” he said. “A-Ling, we’re leaving.” Jin Ling nodded, obediently rising to return to his uncle’s side before his wrist was seized.

“I don’t believe we’ve reached a resolution yet,” the Jin official hissed.

“You wouldn’t dare,” came Jin Ling’s bold reply, although he didn’t look nearly as certain as he sounded.

Jiang Cheng was instantly on high alert. If he had to, he could deal with a handful of second-rate cultivators and fight his way out. His only concern was Jin Ling’s safety. Who knew how many of Lanling’s residents shared similar sentiments?

Before either sect could act, the sound of the door opening startled both sides. It had been sealed shut to ensure privacy with an array that should not have been broken so easily.

“Really,” Huaisang said as he approached. “Tactless, the bunch of you,” he chided, waving his fan back and forth. “If you wanted to plan a coup, you were far too noisy. I could hear you all the way from Qinghe.”

For the briefest of moments, Jiang Cheng wondered if Huaisang had betrayed him, if this event was somehow all his orchestration.

“A head-shaker’s presence doesn’t make a difference, even if you are Chief Cultivator!” One of the younger advisors cried. His expression showed obvious distress at Huaisang’s interruption.

Huaisang only smiled pleasantly. “Please unhand Young Master Jin.” In contrast to his mild demeanor and courteous tone, his presence was suddenly staggeringly heavy.

“Qinghe isn’t what it was,” came the strained reply. “Your words carry no weight.”

“It’s true,” Huaisang concurred, “that the old Qinghe died with my brother. I assure you, though, that I sincerely follow through with every promise. If Lanling falters under Young Master Jin’s rule, I would be more than happy to step in as a mediator.” He snapped his fan shut, then tapped it thoughtfully against his chin. “Though, if power is what you’re after, it’s been my experience that any authority obtained during moments of chaos never seem to last very long, wouldn’t you agree?”

After a moment of silence, Jin Ling was grudgingly released. He wasted no time in darting to the safety of Jiang Cheng’s side, eyes shifting between Huaisang and the senior Jin officials, who had gathered together on one side.

“Sect Leader Jiang, would you take Young Master Jin and leave now?” Huaisang asked airily. At first, Jiang Cheng didn’t move. Did Huaisang really expect him to leave now, knowing that there were people lurking in the shadows of Lanling, actively plotting against Jin Ling? However, being reminded that his nephew was right by his side, and likely far more scared than he looked, he gave a small nod.

As Jiang Cheng turned to lead Jin Ling away by the shoulders, Huaisang turned to follow. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blur of movement. On reflex, zidian was released, forming a protective circle around him and Jin Ling. Sandu was unsheathed a moment later.

He had no chance of using either, though. Huaisang had instantly blocked the oncoming attack in one fluid motion with his fan.

“Tactless,” he said again, clucking his tongue in disappointment. Another instant later, he drew his saber, meeting the sword of the one who had charged forward. Jiang Cheng’s jaw dropped. All of the Jin advisors looked equally as shocked.

Nie Huaisang’s style of cultivation was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Dark clouds lashed around him, and his saber was a fiery blaze of gold from within. A wave of resentment rose up Jiang Cheng’s chest, unquelled, at any hint of demonic cultivation, but that wasn’t what Huaisang was doing—not exactly, at least.

“I don’t suggest you test me,” Huaisang’s smile never faltered. “I really dislike fighting.”

Huaisang would hate it, but at the moment, he really did resemble Jin Guangyao.

Perhaps that was a shared quality of Chief Cultivators, Jiang Cheng thought wryly. Difficult to read, impossible to understand. He’d sorely underestimated Nie Huaisang yet again.

His cultivation was unstable, Jiang Cheng realized, which was exactly what made it so terrifying. Overwhelming and uncontrolled, threatening to overflow at any moment. It wasn’t matter of if, but when, and only a fool would want to provoke him to that degree.

Was this a quality of the Nie Sect’s cultivation, or was it just Huaisang?

And, ah, this was really not the time, but Jiang Cheng had never wanted him more. If the situation weren’t so dire, he was sure his body would be reacting with interest.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, Huaisang moved back and returned the saber to his hip, although his fan stayed open, guarding him like a shield.

“We’ll be taking our leave now,” he said. “I trust that there will be no interference this time.” Not a question, but a statement. When all of the advisors seemed too stunned to reply, Huaisang clasped his hands together and beamed.

Jin Ling was a flustered mess as soon as they were out of the room, ducking his head into a bow, muttering his thanks with his ears and cheeks tinted red.

“Oh, I didn’t do much,” Huaisang said demurely. “I’m sure the two of you could have dealt with the situation without me just fine.”

That was true, Jiang Cheng thought. He could have handled it on his own, albeit with more bloodshed. Why, then, had Huaisang intervened?

“Jin Ling, you’re staying at Lotus Pier until I sort this out,” Jiang Cheng said, once they were within the private confines of Jin Ling’s quarters.

“No!” Jin Ling stretched up to his full height and stuck his chin out stubbornly. Even so, he didn’t look very intimidating. “I’m not scared, and if I leave now, it’ll look like I am!”

“Stop being mouthy! I don’t recall saying that this was up for debate—”

“If I’m going to be Sect Leader one day, then won’t I have to deal with this all the time? You can’t protect me forever, uncle! I’m not a child—”

“My priority is keeping you alive,” Jiang Cheng hissed, eyes narrowing. “You—”

“If I may,” Huaisang interjected. “It will reflect poorly on Young Master Jin’s abilities if he leaves at the first sign of hostility. If his capacity to be Sect Leader is already being questioned, then running away will only worsen the situation. On top of that, it will leave an opening for his adversaries to step in, and he won’t be there to defend his seat.”

“Am I supposed to leave him here as bait, then?”

“Not bait,” Huaisang countered. “We can set up defensive arrays around his quarters. If any of them are breached, you can appear in an instant with a teleportation talisman. Besides, he has Fairy with him.”

“I’d rather just stay here, then,” Jiang Cheng scowled.

“I don’t need to be babysat—” Jin Ling protested.

“Be quiet!”

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Huaisang began. “Both Yunmeng and Lanling will lose face if you stay. To your Yunmeng, it will look like you care more about the well-being of another sect. To Lanling, it will look as if their heir is incapable of self-defense.”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng said quietly. “All of what you’re saying, I already know it. But decorum can go to hell if A-Ling is—if he’s—” He cut himself off, looking away.

“How about this, then?” Huaisang asked. “I will publically put in my support for Young Master Jin. I’m sure there won’t be any dissent from Gusu, either. With the backing of the three largest sects, it will be difficult for any objectors to speak out. We do still have the postwar treaty, after all. No sect can just act on a whim to change its designated leadership. Perhaps a gentle reminder of that would be beneficial.”

“Am I just supposed to rely on your word?” Jiang Cheng glared, reluctant to put Jin Ling’s safety into Nie Huaisang’s hands. What was the point of replacing one snake with another?

“Uncle!” Jin Ling scolded, taken aback by Jiang Cheng’s contempt for the person who had come to their aid.

Jiang Cheng rubbed his temples. You don’t know just how dangerous the man in front of you is.

“It’s well within my abilities,” Huaisang offered.

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Jiang Cheng replied sarcastically. It wasn’t that he doubted Huaisang’s influence. Artfully swaying people to his advantage must be second nature by now. Jiang Cheng was disinclined to accept a favor from anyone. Favors were always followed by debts that needed to be repaid. He didn’t trust Nie Huaisang, and was loath to owe him anything. “That doesn’t deal with the fact that there are people within Lanling who—”

“They just don’t want their lives to change,” Huaisang said. “If we’re able to reassure them that that won’t be the case, then they’ll be pacified for now.”

Jiang Cheng blinked. We? This wasn’t Huaisang’s issue to deal with. There was no we. There was only him and Jin Ling.

“And if we don’t intend to keep that promise?” Jiang Cheng asked. He wasn’t too keen on keeping any of Jin Guangshan’s influences around.

Huaisang smiled. “Oh, I have no intention of holding you to it.”

“Then—”

“Then we’ll deal with that when the time comes.” There it was again, that we. “One problem at a time, Sect Leader Jiang. Right now, this is how I propose we solve our current predicament. Do you have any better ideas?”

“I—” Jiang Cheng looked away. Admittedly, he didn’t.

“Shall I go ahead, then?”

Jiang Cheng clenched his fists. They were short on time, and he could come up with nothing better. He had the looming suspicion that he’d come to regret his decision, but like Huaisang had said, that was a problem for a later date. For now, he would just have to wait and see what Huaisang would do.

“Yes,” he said, finally. “Go ahead.”

True to his word, Huaisang announced at the next conference that he wanted the matter of Lanling’s leadership settled, stating that although Jin Ling was young, it wasn’t unheard of for someone his age to preside over a sect. He continued on to say that if this was a position that Jin Ling would ascend to eventually, there was no point in delaying the inevitable. The more experience he gathered now, the more capable he would be in the future.

Gusu, once again overseen by Lan Qiren, had no objections. After all, in terms of upholding tradition, none could compare to the Lan Sect. With Jin Ling being the late heir Jin Zixuan’s only child, of course he would be the next successor. It was assumed that the Jiang Sect would have no objections either. Huaisang was also quick to assure that in this new era of peace and cooperation, the other three great sects would step in if Jin Ling ever struggled. There was no need to be at odds with one another. Together, he said, they would usher in a new era of comfort and prosperity. Coming from anyone else, those words would have sounded pompous and overbearing, but Huaisang, with his unassuming demeanor, was able to pull them off flawlessly.

It all happened very quickly. By the end of the week, Lanling had put out an official statement saying that Jin Ling would be their next leader, with the official celebration held in a fortnight’s time. In the past few days, Jiang Cheng had spent more time than usual in Qinghe, carefully watching Huaisang’s machinations for any hint of deception.

Whatever was between them had been temporarily halted, at least at first. Jiang Cheng didn’t need any distractions, and he wasn’t naïve enough to believe that bedding Huaisang would sway his allegiance.

Still, it proved difficult to resist the way Huaisang leaned in close to speak with him, voice no higher than a whisper to ensure that they were not overheard. And, after Jiang Cheng couldn’t find anything in Huaisang’s behavior to raise his suspicions, his initial distrust started to fade. Instead, he found himself curious about Huaisang’s capabilities.

“Huaisang, when did you learn how to do all of that?” Jiang Cheng asked. He sat in the study adjacent to the main suite, watching as Huaisang rooted through his shelves.

“Hm? Cultivation? Politics?” Huaisang asked absentmindedly. “Or how to use a weapon?” His eyes lit up as he seemed to find what he was looking for: a small wooden box, intricately carved and carefully painted.

“All of it.”

Huaisang set the box down and turned to look at Jiang Cheng. “I told you once, didn’t I? No one will watch your back for you.”

Isn’t that what you’re doing, though? Watching my back for me? Jiang Cheng wanted to ask. And for what? Leverage? Repentance?

“But…” Huaisang continued, as if he could read Jiang Cheng’s mind. “That doesn’t mean that the whole world is against you, either.”

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Chief Cultivator?”

Huaisang gave him a cryptic smile. “A hidden weapon only remains effective for as long as it's unseen,” he replied.

“How much more do you have hidden up your sleeve?” Jiang Cheng asked.

Even though he'd stumbled upon more than his fair share of Huaisang's secrets, he didn't feel like he was any closer to understanding him.

“Not nearly as much as you're thinking, Jiang-xiong,” Huaisang laughed. “You're finding out all my tricks at an alarming rate. Soon you'll have the upper hand over me, and then what will I do?” He swooned dramatically, and Jiang Cheng's mouth quirked up at the corners. Since they'd started their arrangement, he'd never once felt like he had the upper hand. He thought about how Huaisang had looked while fighting, shifting between refined grace and devastating power.

“On the contrary,” he returned. “You never cease to impress me.”

“Oh?” Huaisang tilted his head. “Do tell.”

“What happened to the boy who nearly passed out from nerves before every exam in Gusu? The one who never once drew his saber during Sunshot?”

Huaisang slid onto his lap, legs on either side of him. “Have you stayed the same?” he murmured, hands coming to rest on Jiang Cheng’s shoulders. “From who you were during our school days, or even from a young sect leader at the forefront of war? Time ruins us all, Jiang Wanyin, even those of us that aspire towards immortality.” He leaned in to brush their lips together, a ghost of a kiss. “But I’d much rather you ruin me, first.”

They undressed in a hurried blur. The intricate robes that Huaisang wore suggested that he would be bird-boned and fragile underneath them, but his arms and torso had more definition than expected. Still, there was a delicate quality to his lithe figure. The rise and fall of Huaisang’s chest as he straddled Jiang Cheng and slowly took him in was enough to take Jiang Cheng’s breath from his lungs. His fingers tightened as he watched how Huaisang’s hair cascaded down his chest and back, how his thighs trembled with the effort and exertion, determined to persevere until his limbs gave out from under him. Jiang Cheng flipped them over, pinning Huaisang down and setting a merciless rhythm.

And only afterwards did Jiang Cheng feel like he didn’t get a real answer. Huaisang remained as inexplicable as ever. Jiang Cheng had changed, he knew that, but Huaisang was virtually unrecognizable. Jiang Cheng wanted to understand him. For all of his own reservations, he thought that in certain respects, they were frighteningly similar, warped by loss and grief and the heavy burden of responsibility.

“Wait here,” Huaisang told him. “I have something for you.”

Jiang Cheng’s heart flipped unpleasantly in his chest as Huaisang stood and loosely wrapped a robe around himself. He tried not to stare at the generous expanse of skin that remained exposed. “You… got me a gift?”

“I suppose you could say that,” Huaisang replied, holding out the box from earlier. “It’s not for you, though. It’s for your A-Ling.”

Jiang Cheng blinked.

“My cultivation may not be as impressive as some, but I do collect some rare items every now and then.”

Not impressive? He wanted to object, but he held his tongue. Instead he asked, “What’s this for?”

“His ascension to Sect Leader is soon.” Huaisang tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. “I thought it would be, ah, apt, given the circumstances.”

Jiang Cheng’s eyes narrowed. “Why don’t you give it to him yourself?”

A smile. “Don’t you think it would be better received from his favorite uncle?”

“Why are you helping me?”

Huaisang looked at him. “Why wouldn't I?”

“What's your angle?”

“Angle?” Huaisang repeated.

“What do you want?” Jiang Cheng asked bluntly. “Do I owe you a debt now? If so, I’d rather you say it outright.”

“You don't owe me anything,” Huaisang replied. "You never asked me for a favor, so you don't owe me one in return."

Jiang Cheng was stunned. This wasn’t the answer he expected. His reaction was to respond with contempt. “You really expect me to believe that you're doing this out of the sheer kindness of your heart?”

Huaisang shrugged, not taking the bait. “I'm telling you that I don't have a reason to stand against you. Whether or not you believe me is up to you.”

Jiang Cheng was silent.

“What would I gain from opposing you, Jiang Wanyin?” Huaisang asked, glancing out the window. “If it helps, I guess you could say that I'm just fulfilling my role as Chief Cultivator, working to maintain the peace. Naturally, I'd want to settle the unrest in Lanling as quickly and peacefully as possible.” He paused. Then, “After all, I'm at fault, too. It's because of me that Young Master Jin is in this situation.”

That felt like the truth. Jiang Cheng thought about Huaisang's single-minded quest for revenge. Rather than harboring a sinister desire to extinguish everyone else along the way, it seemed much more likely that Huaisang was so set on victory that in the moment, nothing else mattered to him. That was no longer the case. He’d gotten what he wanted, hadn’t he? What would be his motive to keep lying?

Huaisang had promptly dropped the head-shaker act after he’d become Chief Cultivator. As adept as he was at playing diplomat, the Nie Sect hadn't made any attempt to seize power. In the aftermath of all of the chaos, it would have been all too easy. Although, with the size of Qinghe, and the state of ruin it had fallen to in the past decade, Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure the Nie Sect would be truly formidable again for some time. In retrospect, placing that title in Huaisang’s hands had probably been a safe decision.

Jiang Cheng finally took the box. Inside was a small, ornate amulet that hung from a thin gold string. Was this a peace treaty? An apology for his actions? Was he trying to show Jiang Cheng that he had no reason to harm Jin Ling?

“It’s just a charm that helped me when I was younger,” Huaisang said. “Anyone wearing it cannot be deceived.”

Perhaps Jiang Cheng thought too highly of himself. Nie Huaisang didn’t seem to think much of him at all.

“I don’t want him to go down the path that you did,” Jiang Cheng said bluntly. He expected Huaisang to look hurt, or at least offended, but Huaisang’s expression remained as calm as ever.

“He won’t do that,” came Huaisang’s assured reply.

“How do you know?” Jiang Cheng demanded.

“Because he didn’t end up like you, or like san ge.”

And once again, Jiang Cheng was at a loss for words.

The ceremony celebrating Jin Ling’s official rise to the title of Sect Leader went unexpectedly smoothly. At the end, Jiang Cheng let out a sigh of relief. For a day of celebration, it was a somber event. He could see the heaviness on Jin Ling’s shoulders, the pensive expression that he wore. Given the circumstances, he knew that this was the best outcome, but he wished that Jin Ling didn’t have to know such weight so soon. Unfortunately, it seemed that a premature ascent to sect leader was a hereditary trait.

However, he could guarantee that Jin Ling wouldn’t have to face anything alone. He wouldn’t suffer by himself the way Jiang Cheng had to. Any trouble, and Jiang Cheng would be there. This was the promise that he’d made silently at his A-Jie’s grave.

With Nie Huaisang standing at the edges of the room, watchful eyes carefully scanning the scene in front of him, Jiang Cheng found himself more at ease. His relief caught him by surprise. Was he making that same mistake again—entrusting Jin Ling’s safety to someone who would eventually prove to be deceitful, unreliable? Was he stupid enough to do so twice? He hadn’t known Jin Guangyao’s true nature, but he knew Nie Huaisang’s. Have you not learned yet, he scolded himself, that everyone you’ve relied on has let you down?

Jiang Cheng was glad that Huaisang wasn’t an opponent, but that didn’t mean that he was an ally. Still, Huaisang had been there, relieving a strained situation that had quickly escalated out of Jiang Cheng’s hands. Leave it to me, Huaisang had told him. I’ll take care of it. When was the last time someone had said those words, and meant them? Jiang Cheng thought he could appreciate that for what it was.

Afterwards, Jiang Cheng started looking at Nie Huaisang in a different light. Seeing him was steadily becoming more of a pressing, fervid want, rather than a casual routine. Jiang Cheng wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t good for his ego to have Huaisang pinned underneath him, asking so sweetly to be fucked. Knowing that Huaisang wanted him, sought him out and craved him, was just as enticing as the actual act itself.

“Jiang Wanyin, you’re so good, simply the best,” Huaisang would tell him, and Jiang Cheng reveled in it, in the way that Huaisang would look at him like he was the one who’d hung the moon and stars in the sky. No one else had ever spoken like that to him. Was he so pathetic that a few whispered words of adoration were enough to make him forget himself? If he wasn’t careful, he thought that he could drown in Nie Huaisang’s embrace and drown happily at that.

He found himself needing to hear that honeyed voice dripping with desire, begging, pleading for Jiang Cheng to tear him apart.

“Tell me how much you want it,” he’d whisper.

And Huaisang would tell him every time, without fail, just how much he wanted Jiang Cheng inside of him, how he needed it more than the air in his lungs. He’d arch his back, meeting every thrust with a rise of his own hips, exposing his neck and chest for Jiang Cheng to cover in bruises. He never complained, not even when Jiang Cheng became overzealous and drew blood. He was coy in his advances, a shameless flirt, but once Jiang Cheng had him undressed and on his back, he became soft and submissive, pupils blown wide and hips trembling, with the filthiest phrases falling from his lips.

There’s no one quite like you, Jiang Cheng would find himself thinking.

It felt wrong now to leave through the secret exit hidden in the walls, acting as if he were ashamed. He started departing straight through the window.

“There’s no need,” Jiang Cheng said after catching Huaisang looking quizzically at him as he mounted sandu.

“You’re strange, Jiang-xiong,” came Huaisang’s reply. “Just a few months ago, it was you who insisted on secrecy.”

With Jin Ling settling down as Sect Leader, and no signs of movement from Wei Wuxian, it was agreed that there was no longer a need for the four great sects to convene so frequently. Just like that, Jiang Cheng’s excuse to visit Nie Huaisang had been pulled out from underneath his feet.

He found himself pent-up and frustrated, tossing and turning at night. His already limited patience was worn even thinner. Unfortunately for his disciples, this meant that their drills were made even more rigorous and demanding than usual. He yelled more on the training fields, calling for impossible levels of precision and coordination, scowling when what he saw inevitably fell short of his expectations.

Somehow, even his own hand was a poor substitute for Huaisang’s body. Half of his satisfaction was derived from seeing Huaisang in the throes of pleasure, after all, and the knowledge that he alone could bring Huaisang to such highs. By himself, the gratification just wasn’t there.

To his own surprise and revulsion, when Jiang Cheng wandered through the vendor stalls that lined Lotus Pier, he found himself eyeing the small hairpins and combs that rested against plush fabric and glittered in the sunlight, the dainty pouches made of the finest silks, the fans so carefully hand-painted with Yunmeng’s signature lotuses.

He never bought any of them. How would Nie Huaisang react if he showed up out of the blue with such a thing? Surely he would laugh and ask Jiang Cheng what on earth he was thinking, if he’d lost his mind sometime on the journey over.

Eventually, he gave in and flew to Qinghe, showing up unprompted. He’d say that he just happened to be passing by from a night hunt. His face was burning when Huaisang met him at the edge of his quarters with a beatific smile.

“Couldn't stand a few weeks without me? Am I that captivating?” Huaisang draped his arms around Jiang Cheng, who immediately stiffened at his words. He wondered if Huaisang, who was frighteningly perceptive, would be able to know all of his mortifying thoughts with a single glance.

“No,” he said on reflex, panic rising. “You're convenient, that's all.”

As soon as those words left him, he knew he'd made a mistake. Huaisang pulled away immediately.

“Perhaps not as much as you thought,” he answered coolly.

“I—” Jiang Cheng's eyes widened. “Huaisang—”

“You know, I'm suddenly not feeling very well,” Huaisang said, tone never changing from airy indifference. “I think I'll retire for the day. So sorry you had to come all this way.” He returned to his room, shutting the door behind him with a clatter. Jiang Cheng was at a loss for what to do. If he pounded on the door and demanded Huaisang’s attention, he would inevitably make a scene and be overheard, and there would be no respectable way to explain himself.

He could only fly numbly back to Lotus Pier.

Was that the end of it, then? Jiang Cheng had no experience in dealing with such matters. Was he supposed to show up with a bouquet of flowers, drop to his knees, and beg to be forgiven? Unimaginable. His pride would never sink so low.

Still, he agonized over what to do, torn between wanting to preserve his dignity and, well, his utter want. First, he tried to put Nie Huaisang out of his mind, diving into the waters of Lotus Pier to calm himself, letting the cool waves lap around him. He got up even earlier to train and stayed out after the sun had set for the day. While his disciples were turning in for the night, zidian and sandu were streaking violet across the sky. He exhausted himself, and yet he remained restless.

Another three weeks passed before he gathered the courage to return to Qinghe, flying twice as fast as usual, hoping that he would get there before he lost his nerve and turned right back around. He saw Huaisang’s figure standing in the courtyard as he approached, facing away. He turned as Jiang Cheng landed, looking surprised.

“You're not convenient,” Jiang Cheng blurted, before Huaisang could say anything. “I...” He trailed off. “I shouldn't have said that.”

Huaisang only watched him carefully, head tilted thoughtfully. He waited for Jiang Cheng to continue.

"It doesn't reflect how I think of you.” This was the truth. Huaisang was more like a butterfly that flitted around him, teasing, unable to be caught. If Jiang Cheng wanted convenience, he wouldn't be going out of his way to fly to Qinghe, that much was certain.

“I—you’re—you’re more than a—I mean, this is—”

Huaisang remained silent as Jiang Cheng stumbled over his words and looked down, turning redder and redder. Then, finally, he said, “Come inside.”

Jiang Cheng’s head snapped up. Had Huaisang accepted his not-quite-apology?

“I was wondering when you'd come back,” Huaisang told him, gesturing for him to sit and pouring him a steaming cup of tea. “You took longer than I thought. Tell me, were you afraid that I'd turn you down again?”

Jiang Cheng stared down at his lap and took a burning gulp of tea. His lack of an answer spoke volumes.

“I’ve told you before,” Huaisang said quietly. “This is whatever you want it to be. So what exactly do you want?”

Jiang Cheng kissed him then, nearly shaking with relief when he felt Huaisang kiss back. He wanted so badly to be able to say something, to tell Huaisang that he didn't know what it was that he felt but he didn't want it to stop. Perhaps he, too, was starting to become like Huaisang’s songbird, no longer able to bear being apart from him for too long. That scared him more than anything else.

He knew he couldn't say any of that. He’d upset the dynamic that they’d built if he did. He could only kiss harder, leaning back and pulling Huaisang on top of him. Jiang Cheng thought that he’d be satisfied with this alone, absentmindedly trailing his hands up and down Huaisang’s sides, but evidently, Huaisang had other ideas.

“Jiang-xiong,” he said after a while, breathless. “Not that this isn't nice, but you know you can do more than just kiss me, right?”

After a moment, Jiang Cheng managed to utter, “...I know.”

“Then, could it be that Jiang-xiong feels that badly about it, still...?”

Again, his silence was all Huaisang needed for an answer.

“I've been thinking about it too, you know,” he murmured. “You caught me at a bad time that day. Really, it doesn't matter if you think I'm 'easy' or 'convenient.' You can think of me however you'd like, and come as often as you wish.” He smiled and cupped Jiang Cheng's cheek. “Okay?”

Those words were meant to comfort him, and yet, Jiang Cheng only found himself feeling worse. “Does my opinion matter that little to you?” The question slipped out before he could stop himself. Do I matter that little to you?

Huaisang looked surprised at that. “Of course not,” he murmured in reply. “It’s quite the opposite, really. I think out of everyone, Jiang-xiong's opinion matters to me the most.”

Jiang Cheng's heart nearly stopped. The most?

Huaisang gave him another kiss, hand gently caressing the curve of his neck. “Here,” he said, sliding off of Jiang Cheng’s lap and moving lower. “I'll take your mind off of everything.”

His words gave Jiang Cheng pause. “Wait.”

“Yes?” Huaisang looked up at him.

“...Do you really mean that?”

“Of course,” Huaisang replied. “Why would I lie? To sweet-talk you into bedding me?” He laughed.

What am I to you? Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but wonder. Huaisang's mouth trailed down his torso along the lines of his abdomen. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes as his waistband was loosened and his robes were pushed aside. His thoughts immediately became incoherent when he felt Huaisang’s lips tease from the base to the tip before taking him in slowly, making note of what made Jiang Cheng’s hand tighten in his hair. He was becoming incredibly skilled at what he did, although he still looked too pretty to be making such obscene sounds. Between that and Jiang Cheng’s own anticipation, he didn’t last for very long.

“Better?” Huaisang smiled, hand coming up to wipe the corner of his mouth.

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng gasped in return. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been holding back until then. In the heat of the moment, he’d almost forgotten he was the one who had come with the intention of apologizing, and he somehow, he hadn’t even been able to do that. Huaisang had ended up comforting him instead. That didn’t sit well with him.

An idea struck him. “Come here.”

“Ah—” Huaisang suddenly found himself on the side of his bed, planted on his back with his robes already loosened. “Jiang Wanyin, what are you—Ah—”

Jiang Cheng settled between Huaisang’s legs. He’d never tried this before, but he was intent on returning the favor. The first time he tried to take Huaisang all the way into his throat, he choked. He didn’t know how Huaisang had managed so deftly all of those times. Jiang Cheng had no idea what counted as skill in this area, and felt clumsy as he tried again, slower this time. The weight in his mouth felt foreign.

“You—” Huaisang gasped, already overwhelmed. Evidently, their time apart had only made him more responsive than usual. This was encouraging, and prompted Jiang Cheng to continue. Gradually, he became accustomed to the sensation and began to learn how to use his tongue so that Huaisang would squirm and pull at his braids. When his hair fell out of its fastenings, he took it as a sign that he was doing well.

“I—” Huaisang’s voice broke off, peering at Jiang Cheng incredulously. A blush crept up the apples of his cheeks and dusted the tops of his shoulders. Jiang Cheng managed to work two fingers inside, curling them as his lips slid over Huaisang’s length.

“Wait,” Huaisang’s hand pushed him away weakly. “I’m—I’ll—”

Jiang Cheng didn’t pull off until he felt Huaisang spill down his throat. A sense of triumph rose when he saw that Huaisang looked completely spent, eyes unfocused and dreamy. When Jiang Cheng came up over him, Huaisang pulled him down for a feverish kiss.

Later, Huaisang was soft and pliant, pressing his face into the pillow as Jiang Cheng took him from behind. Although less frantic, their pace was still hurried, rough, a need burning in each of them that could only be alleviated by the other. Jiang Cheng didn’t know how he’d managed to stay away for as long as he did. Judging by the sounds he was making, Huaisang wasn’t faring much better. Near the end, he couldn’t even hold himself up. Jiang Cheng kept him raised in place with one arm until they both finished.

Jiang Cheng found himself lingering as he dressed himself. Huaisang held onto him and trailed kisses across his shoulder blades. “Come back soon, okay?” He smiled, then faltered. “If you'd like,” he amended, drawing back carefully.

His uncertainty made Jiang Cheng’s chest ache. He wanted to kiss the hesitation right off of Huaisang’s face, telling him that at this point, he wasn’t sure he could stay away. He didn’t do either of those things. He could only nod before heading off on sandu, scared that if he stayed another moment, whatever resolve he had left would crumble, and he would make a fool of himself, without fail.

Sometimes, when Jiang Cheng returned to Lotus Pier, Jin Ling would be there with Fairy trailing behind him, asking with a concerned look on his face where his uncle had been, if he was getting enough rest, if he was taking care of himself.

It occurred to Jiang Cheng that even though the rest of the Nie Sect now flocked around Huaisang like lost sheep, desperate for guidance, wanting to reclaim the glory they’d once had under Nie Mingjue, Huaisang had no such person, among all of Qinghe’s mountains and walls, to ask after him in the same way. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Huaisang had said back when they’d first started: Besides, I don’t have anyone to tell.

Jiang Cheng didn’t have anyone to tell, either. He wondered if Huaisang was lonely. If he felt that way, he certainly didn’t show it. Then again, Jiang Cheng didn’t see how Huaisang slept, on his side with his legs curled up and his arms wrapped very tightly around himself. If he did, perhaps he would have thought differently.

He found his thoughts lingering on Nie Huaisang long after he’d departed Qinghe. He visited more often now, splitting his time between Lotus Pier, Koi Tower, and the Unclean Realm. Lanling was already north of Yunmeng. Jiang Cheng reasoned that Qinghe wasn’t that much further.

Huaisang would smile when he arrived and receive him courteously. They’d kiss in the empty halls, sneaking behind pillars and ducking away from the windows. Jiang Cheng liked how easily he could pick Huaisang up, and how his laughter sounded like bells. Eventually, Jiang Cheng would carry him to his quarters, with Huaisang clinging onto him the entire way.

“I’ve been thinking about you all week,” he would say. “You should have seen the things I’ve done to myself with your name on my lips.”

“Why don’t you show me?” Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but ask in return, and Huaisang would grin at the prospect of putting on a show. He’d lay back and undress himself slowly, making deliberate eye contact. Jiang Cheng would watch, transfixed, as he trailed his hands down from his chest to his hipbones, flaunting every inch of himself as he did so. He’d bite his lip, starting with light, airy strokes, circling his entrance before coating his slender fingers with oil and slipping them inside.

Jiang Cheng would count the seconds it took before his self-restraint was utterly demolished. He’d hold him down, forcing Huaisang to only take what he gave him, no matter how much he whined and squirmed. Jiang Cheng would have expected to be more flustered, but everything he did was met with such encouragement that self-satisfaction bloomed in his chest. Nothing thrilled him like knowing that he could turn Nie Huaisang into a writhing mess, satisfy him until he collapsed into a soft heap onto the mattress, and then some more.

Huaisang was not there to receive him the next time Jiang Cheng arrived. Instead, he was greeted by an unassuming-looking disciple, who bowed and told him that Sect Leader Nie was busy at the moment, but would be out as soon as his duties would allow.

Jiang Cheng sat in the main hall for some time, growing more irritated the longer he was kept waiting. Though, when Huaisang finally appeared, Jiang Cheng’s exasperation evaporated immediately. Huaisang’s features looked bleary, his skin ashen in color. Thinking of the bright-faced youth he’d once been in Gusu, Jiang Cheng couldn’t help but frown.

“You look tired.” His words came out harsher than he meant them, and Huaisang's hands flew to his face self-consciously.

“I'm sorry,” he replied coldly. “I didn't realize Sect Leader Jiang would prefer me all made up.”

“Th-that's not—” Jiang Cheng spluttered, eyes wide. “I mean, I—I always think you're—” he cut himself off before he could embarrass himself further, ears burning red.

“I just meant...” his hand reached up, thumb brushing over the dark circles under Huaisang's eyes. “Are you overworking yourself?"

“What?” Huaisang laughed and moved back, suddenly sounding flustered. “I’m fine. Besides, Jiang-xiong doesn't need to worry about me. You know that I'm not as helpless as I seem,” he added.

“I know,” Jiang Cheng replied, mouth tightening into a thin line. Still, he saw the way Huaisang seemed to sway as he moved, how his eyes were cloudy and out of focus.

"If you’re so concerned, why don't you help me relax?" Huaisang grinned, leaning in just enough to tease the idea of a kiss.

“Huaisang.” Jiang Cheng felt his pulse quicken much faster than it should have.

“Consider it a request from your Chief Cultivator,” Huaisang murmured breathily.

Jiang Cheng didn’t know where his concerns were coming from. Huaisang was certainly capable of handling himself.

“I’m fine, Jiang Wanyin,” he repeated.

Jiang Cheng sighed. “…If you’re sure.”

Still, Jiang Cheng was softer with him. He trailed lazy kisses down Huaisang’s jaw, pinning Huaisang’s wrists with one hand while stretching him out with the other. He moved at an achingly slow pace, not giving in even when Huaisang begged for him to go faster.

“Wreck me,” he pleaded.

“I will,” Jiang Cheng returned, holding him down. “Eventually,” he added. “If you’re good for me.” He dipped down to mouth over a nipple, causing Huaisang to cry out.

“Ah—”

Huaisang eventually relinquished himself to the soft touches that came as if Jiang Cheng were afraid of breaking him, as if he thought one wrong movement would cause Huaisang to shatter.

“You—”

Jiang Cheng came up over him again, arms caging Huaisang in. “Yes?”

“Make me forget myself,” he whispered, a genuine plea. He looked close to tears. “I only want to think about you.”

“That I can do,” Jiang Cheng answered, smiling as he moved in for a kiss. It there was one aspect of himself he was confident in now, it was his ability to make it so that his name was the only thing coming out of Huaisang’s mouth.

Summer became fall in the blink of an eye. The autumn sunlight cast Huaisang in reds and golds, bringing out the bright honey color of his eyes and the amber tones in his hair. When he looked at Jiang Cheng, a smile playing about his lips, Jiang Cheng would find himself too stunned to move. Huaisang was so devastatingly beautiful. Jiang Cheng didn’t know what to do with himself. How had someone like this taken an interest in him?

“Jiang-xiong, you look so serious. Is something wrong?”

“N-no,” Jiang Cheng replied. “Nothing.”

Traitorously, his mind wandered into a fantasy, and he wondered if he would ever see Huaisang in red robes, with gold jewelry dripping from his temples. After all, the fate of the Nie lineage rested with Huaisang. He would have to marry someday. For some reason, the thought made Jiang Cheng’s stomach turn. A possessive thought came over him. I’ll know him in a way that any future cultivation partner never will. He’d already claimed all of Huaisang’s firsts.

And that, at least, was satisfying.

Huaisang always smelled like ink and incense, mixed with the floral perfume of the gardens he was so fond of. Jiang Cheng swore that he could get drunk off of such a scent, or at least, that’s what he wanted to believe. What other explanation could there be for the way he acted in Nie Huaisang’s chambers, like someone else entirely? He still didn’t know what came over him during those times. If he could tell his former self that this is where he would end up, he was sure that the Jiang Cheng from just a few months ago would laugh derisively in disgust.

Nie Huaisang must have cast a spell over him, whispering some ancient, long-lost words to make him go weak at the knees. That would be better than whatever the alternative was—that Jiang Cheng had become attached all by himself.

If, afterwards, Huaisang were to ask Jiang Cheng to stay, then Jiang Cheng thought that he would accept. But Huaisang never asked, and Jiang Cheng was too prideful to initiate such an invitation himself. Though, it was Jiang Cheng who would suggest that they go for another round, savoring the wide-eyed look of incredulity that Huaisang would give him.

“You’ll break me,” he’d laugh breathlessly, but he’d give in every time. “Jiang Wanyin, you’re insatiable,” Huaisang would tell him, and maybe that was true. No matter how many times Jiang Cheng came to Qinghe, or how many positions he had Nie Huaisang in, it never seemed to be enough.

He tried not to linger on how much he looked forward to his visits to Qinghe, how he started coming more and more often, whenever he had a free moment.

“Did you miss me, Jiang-xiong?” Huaisang would laugh, but that was usually the extent of his teasing. Jiang Cheng would catch him in a kiss, parting their lips as soon as Huaisang pressed up against him. Lately, when he thought of comfort, Huaisang’s embrace came to mind sooner than anything else. He tried to push those thoughts away. Their implications were terrifying, and the way Huaisang cooed at him didn’t help.

“I adore you, Jiang-xiong,” Huaisang told him once between kisses, and Jiang Cheng wanted to know exactly what the hell he meant by that. He envied how easily Huaisang was able to voice whatever it was that crossed his mind at the moment. Huaisang murmured a lot of sweet nothings to him. Jiang Cheng was no good at returning any of them. He didn’t think that Huaisang, all sharp eyes and perception, expected him to, either.

Huaisang regarded him in a way that he’d never been regarded before, but if it was simply affirmation Jiang Cheng was after, he didn’t have to come to Qinghe for that. He was sure that there was no shortage of people eager to assure him of his prowess, in the hopes that they’d be spared some of his wrath at a later date.

What was it about Huaisang, then? Why did he keep coming back?

(The answer, of course, was that it was different, coming from someone he was wholly enamored with, but he wasn’t quite ready to admit that to himself just yet.)

For a few weeks, duties around Lotus Pier kept Jiang Cheng busy. Now that the hottest and dampest months were over, the yearly repairs began before the cold settled in. Boats were emptied and cleaned out. The walls were scrubbed and old floorboards were replaced. The flags that proudly announced the central station of the Jiang Sect were taken down and dusted before they were rehung. Ever Since he’d rebuilt Lotus Pier, pitching in on these matters became second nature to him.

When he finally found time to fly to Qinghe, he happened to arrive just as the Nie Sect seemed to be clearing out from an event held in the main compound. Huaisang sat at the head of the conference table, looking worn out again. Since they’d last seen each other, the line of his jaw had gotten sharper. Jiang Cheng wanted to grab the nearest disciples he could reach and shake them by their shoulders, asking if this was how they looked after their beloved Sect Leader, their Chief Cultivator?

“Hm? What is it, Sect Leader Jiang?” Huaisang asked, inclining his head ever so slightly at those filing out, indicating that others could still overhear their conversation. “If it’s not urgent, I’ll have to ask you to bring it up at the next discussion conference. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I'm not feeling too well...”

“Let me walk you back,” Jiang Cheng said, boldly. A few disciples couldn’t help but stop and turn around in interest, although they quickly scurried along after meeting Jiang Cheng’s glare.

“No need to go to such trouble, Sect Leader,” Huaisang waved him off, taken aback.

“I insist,” Jiang Cheng countered. Huaisang finally gave in, closing his fan and standing up. As he walked, Jiang Cheng watched warily, noting how even staying upright seemed to drain the color from his face. Jiang Cheng made the decision to pick him up.

“Jiang Wanyin!” Huaisang protested.

“You said it yourself,” Jiang Cheng replied. “You’re not feeling well.”

“I can still make it to my room just fine!”

“Yes, and I can also carry you just fine,” he countered.

“You don’t care if my disciples see?” Huaisang asked. “If word gets out—”

“Let them talk,” Jiang Cheng said bluntly. He knew his reputation. No one would dare to bring such gossip up to his face. This seemed to shock Huaisang into silence. Jiang Cheng made his way into Huaisang’s quarters and placed him on his bed.

“Are you not going to join me?” Huaisang asked wryly, shrugging his robe off. “After all the effort you put in, getting me to my room?”

“Go to sleep, Huaisang.”

“You’re hard to read sometimes, Jiang-xiong.”

That’s my line, Jiang Cheng thought, but Huaisang just smiled at him before dozing off in the next second.

Jiang Cheng really had planned on leaving just then, picking up his sword and heading towards the window. His mistake was casting a glance back at Huaisang’s sleeping figure. He looked so small and fragile that Jiang Cheng faltered. After deliberating, he carefully removed the gold ornament from Huaisang’s hair, setting it off to the side. He brushed a few flyaways aside, and couldn’t help but trail his fingers down the curve of Huaisang’s cheek. Then, remembering himself, he snatched his hand away, face burning. If Huaisang had woken up just then, Jiang Cheng wouldn’t have been able to explain what he was doing.

It was nighttime when Huaisang stirred and sat up. Jiang Cheng had taken the liberty of lighting the candles around the room and situated himself on the settee, idly flipping through one of the Nie Sect cultivational manuals on Huaisang’s shelf. Strangely enough, none of them seemed to describe the techniques that Jiang Cheng had seen Huaisang perform.

“Jiang-xiong, what are you still doing here?” Huaisang asked, rubbing his eyes. “It’s late, isn’t it?”

“You were sleeping so deeply I thought you’d die,” Jiang Cheng returned flatly. “I wanted to make sure you woke up. Now that you have, though, I’ll be going.” He turned to leave, petulant, but Huaisang only laughed.

“Wait,” he said as he slid out of bed. His arms wrapped around Jiang Cheng’s middle. He wore only his inner robe, and Jiang Cheng could feel the warmth radiating from his body. “You’ve been so patient today,” Huaisang murmured, kissing at the exposed skin on the back of Jiang Cheng’s neck. “Don’t you want a reward?” His hand slipped down, his touch light and teasing.

“Huaisang,” Jiang Cheng warned.

“Hmm?” Huaisang answered, continuing. “I’m feeling much better, you know. Do you want me to stop? It really doesn’t seem like it…” He moved to undo Jiang Cheng’s belt, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor with a clatter.

“Huaisang.”

“What is it?” He replied, pushing Jiang Cheng’s robe aside. A gentle bite was immediately soothed by an open-mouthed kiss. “You can’t keep saying my name and just expect me to know what you mean.”

“Nie Huaisang, if you don’t stop, I won’t let you leave until I’m finished with you.” Huaisang, with his hair down and wearing the thinnest strip of fabric, was a temptation impossible to turn down.

Huaisang’s hand slid underneath the waistband of Jiang Cheng’s pants. “Is that a proposal?” he asked coyly. “Or a challenge?”

“Both,” Jiang Cheng replied, abruptly turning around and pinning Huaisang to the wall. Huaisang let out a cry of surprise, but then he smiled again, and all Jiang Cheng wanted to do was wipe that smirk off of his face. He lifted Huaisang up so that Huaisang could wrap his legs around his waist, and kissed hard.

Huaisang kissed back needy and eager, letting Jiang Cheng loosen the ties on his inner robe, shivering as it fell down his shoulders. He gasped as Jiang Cheng moved to trail open-mouthed kisses down his throat, shivered as a hand brushed over his chest. It was impossible to look away from Huaisang when he was like this. A few more touches and Huaisang clung to him, trying to get as much contact as possible, grinding up against Jiang Cheng.

“Be patient,” he chided, although Huaisang’s eagerness only made his own want more pronounced. He wanted to have his fun. He ignored the throbbing between his legs and continued to tease Huaisang until he was keening loudly.

Many times now, Jiang Cheng had seen multiple Nie disciples gazing at their Sect Leader with an expression of utter longing written so plainly across their faces. It was a look that Jiang Cheng was familiar with. He wondered if he, too, looked similarly pathetic in front of Nie Huaisang.

Huaisang didn't seem to notice that so many of his attendants were blatantly over the moon for him, but that only meant that he didn't show any outward acknowledgement. It was entirely possible that he knew, quietly, and deliberately chose not to say a word.

Jiang Cheng used to place a hand over Huaisang's mouth to muffle the sounds that he made, terrified that they would be overheard. Lately, he found himself caring less and less—would it be so terrible for any passing disciples to know that their Sect Leader was well taken care of?

And if, admittedly, a jealous part of Jiang Cheng wanted them to know that Huaisang was taken, perpetually out of reach for them, was that really so wrong of him?

No matter how many times they came together, Jiang Cheng didn’t think he’d ever get used to just how warm Huaisang was, how it took all of his self-control not to push in all at once. They started with Huaisang’s back against the wall. Jiang Cheng held him up and rocked his hips upwards, biting back a sound in his throat each time he was fully enveloped. The friction that built between them was breathtaking, but if they continued on like this, the night would be over much quicker than either of them wanted it to be.

Jiang Cheng carried Huaisang over to the bed, setting him down carefully. Huaisang balanced on his knees and forearms, legs spread wantonly. This was the sight that he could never get enough of. Huaisang bent over, fists clenching his sheets, hair spilling down and pooling onto the mattress in inky spirals. Huaisang turned to look at him.

“Well?” He asked. “Are you going to keep your word? Have your way with me until you’re satisfied?” Huaisang’s tongue slid across his bottom lip, and he grinned as if he knew exactly what he was doing, trying to provoke a reaction from Jiang Cheng. It still worked every time, without fail.

“I wouldn’t ever go back on it,” he said lowly, coming up behind him and kissing up the curve of his spine. He sank his teeth into Huaisang’s shoulder, and Huaisang cried out.

He entered slowly, deliberately, relishing Huaisang’s sharp inhale as he did so. His eyes shut each time he sheathed himself, groaning as that velvety grip closed all around him, tight heat drawing him in further. Huaisang met his motions halfway, impatient and eager. Jiang Cheng wanted to burn the memory into his mind, exactly as it was. His movements became more erratic as he felt his pleasure build, holding onto Huaisang’s hips as he thrusted forward. He finished Huaisang with his hand and came buried all the way inside of him.

That night, he didn’t leave until the early hours of the morning. By the time he arrived back at Lotus Pier, it was time to start the day again.

Wei Wuxian appeared one afternoon, already talking animatedly to Huaisang by the time Jiang Cheng arrived. Lan Wangji waited patiently behind him, looking as stoic as ever. The more Wei Wuxian went on, waving his hands back and forth, seeming like he would never stop speaking, the more irritated Jiang Cheng became.

“Jiang Cheng? What are you hanging around Qinghe for?” Wei Wuxian asked when he finally turned to leave, raising an eyebrow. Then, a knowing expression crossed his face. Jiang Cheng hated that look.

“Nothing.” He turned, scowling as he mounted sandu, taking off into the air. When he was sure that Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had left, he circled back again, where Huaisang waited in his courtyard.

“I thought he’d never fucking leave,” Jiang Cheng said, rubbing his temples.

“He’s gone, now,” Huaisang said, sweet and placating, arms coming to rest on the back of Jiang Cheng’s neck.

“Thank god.” Jiang Cheng ducked his head, placing an open-mouthed kiss on Huaisang’s throat, earning him a pleased little sound. He didn’t stop until he’d sucked hard enough to leave a bruise.

Wei Wuxian was just another one of the many unspoken topics that hung in between them. His brother’s spontaneous revival from the dead had ended up being not-so-spontaneous after all. Jiang Cheng supposed that deep, deep down, having his brother alive was preferable to having him dead, but even the thought of admitting that to himself made his stomach turn. He would much rather not think about Wei Wuxian, and the complex tangle of emotions that arose whenever he was involved.

Especially not when Nie Huaisang was splayed underneath him, crying out in ecstasy, and definitely not when Huaisang straddled him, completely bare. The sight above him was breathtaking. He stared up at with those gold eyes, pupils dilated and expression vacant of everything except want. His hands skimmed over the tops of Huaisang’s thighs before he held firmly onto his waist and thrusted upward.

“Ah—”

Huaisang bent over to kiss him, hair falling past his shoulders like a curtain. Jiang Cheng wrapped a hand around his cock, savoring the way Huaisang moaned against his mouth. Jiang Cheng would gladly swallow all of the sounds Huaisang made, all his murmured words of praise.

He was able to whisper back now, tell Huaisang how good he felt, how soft and warm and tight, how he was the prettiest sight Jiang Cheng had ever seen, and quite possibly the prettiest sight he ever would see. This caught Huaisang off-guard, and he immediately turned multiple shades pinker as he lifted himself up on his knees before sinking down again.

If he was given the choice, Jiang Cheng thought that he’d gladly continue this indefinitely. Whatever Huaisang had done in the past paled in comparison with what Jiang Cheng could do with him in the present.

Recently, Jin Ling had started worrying over Jiang Cheng like a mother hen, wondering what it was that had his uncle away on business so much. He’d bring the latest news from Lanling, as well as a handful of herbal medicines and supplements, proclaiming that frequent traveling took a toll on the immune system.

“A-Ling, I’m not that old yet. You don’t have to fret so much,” Jiang Cheng said when he found Jin Ling waiting by his desk yet again. This time though, Jin Ling seemed hesitant.

“What is it?”

“…Uncle, I wish you’d told me,” Jin Ling said finally.

“About what?” Jiang Cheng asked, blinking.

“You and Sect Leader Nie.”

Jiang Cheng choked. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Jin Ling averted his eyes.

“I don’t know what kind of gossip you’ve been hearing,” Jiang Cheng began. “But there’s nothing to tell. Really, you’re a sect leader now, you should know better than to—” he cut himself off. “Who told you that, anyways?”

“Jingyi.”

Jiang Cheng clenched his fists. He always knew that Lan Sect brat was unruly. “And where did he—”

“He overheard Wei Wuxian talking to Hanguang-jun.”

Jiang Cheng should have known that the root of all trouble originated from his brother. “And where did Wei Wuxian get this idea from?” He asked through gritted teeth. “Really, after all these years, still running his mouth when he knows what kind of trouble he gets himself into!”

Jin Ling only shrugged. “I just want you to be happy, uncle,” he said earnestly. In the last few months, he seemed to have grown taller, his shoulders broader. When his expression grew tender, he looked so much like his mother.

“If you want to court Sect Leader Nie—” Jin Ling tried again.

Jiang Cheng cut him off. “I will be doing nothing of the sort.”

Still, privately, Jiang Cheng began to think. He wasn’t the type to speculate about the future—he didn’t have the luxury of doing so, not when the present gave him more than enough to take on. There was always more that needed to be done. But now, Jin Ling was settling into his new position, and the rest of the world had finally reached a state of relative peace.

It wasn’t that Jiang Cheng would stop having to look after Jin Ling all of a sudden. He was sure he’d be fussing over Jin Ling for the rest of both their lives. But, Jin Ling had hit another milestone. He was shooting up like a small sapling, too, all too quickly coming into his own. He’d rely on Jiang Cheng less and less. Eventually, he’d have his own family to look after. And what then? If Jiang Cheng didn’t have to go to Lanling so often, what else would he do with his time?

It was so unfair, he thought, that Wei Wuxian could come back thirteen years later and pick up right where he’d left off, as if everything he’d left behind had fallen into a deep slumber, just waiting for him to return. Jiang Cheng had trudged through those years with no one by his side. He’d endured alone, grieved alone, and the few victories that he’d had, he’d celebrated those alone, too.

And, looking forward, would that ever change? What was the point of cultivating to immortality if he’d always be by himself? He’d once thought that he and Nie Huaisang were both too far gone to be in any relationship of substance. If that weren’t true though, then... would it be different?

Would someone like Nie Huaisang want him? He didn’t dare to ask. He was afraid of what the answer would be.

Qinghe was much further north than Yunmeng. The days grew cold and dark much more quickly than Jiang Cheng was accustomed to. It became more and more difficult to extract himself from the warmth of Huaisang's bed. He told himself that it had to do with the weather more than it did with Nie Huaisang. If he repeated this enough, he could almost believe it.

“Get home safe, Jiang-xiong,” Huaisang would murmur sleepily, walking Jiang Cheng to the window and seeing him off before returning to his bundle of blankets. His drowsy expression looked so endearing that Jiang Cheng had to fight the urge to kiss him goodbye.

Jiang Cheng was the one who’d set the terms for their arrangement, and now here he was, going back on his own words. How on earth could he tell Huaisang, when he’d so insistently emphasized that they were nothing? How could he tell him that the truth was that Jiang Cheng had grown fond of him, grown attached, that he’d become addicted to the way his body moved? He couldn’t say a thing—he could only channel his frustrations into longer, lingering kisses, sucking marks like he wanted to claim Huaisang for his own, drawing out every touch. At least then, he had the excuse of their mutual gratification.

Every moment turned into two. Jiang Cheng was terrified that Huaisang would be able to see right through him, easily exposing the emotions that he was no longer able to hide. He thought that Huaisang would mock him, or start to pull away. But Huaisang only kissed him sweetly, arms holding tightly onto Jiang Cheng, as starry-eyed as he’d ever been.

With the way Huaisang treated him, and how he looked at Jiang Cheng with such fondness, it was all too easy to imagine him feeling the same way.

It was different between them, now. Softer, although no less eager. Jiang Cheng’s new mission was to make each round last as long as they possibly could.

Delayed gratification was a look that Huaisang wore well. Jiang Cheng liked using his fingers to tease him until he was dripping with arousal. When Huaisang tried to touch himself, Jiang Cheng would push his hand away and pin his wrists down.

“Jiang-xiong, you’re so cruel,” Huaisang cried, and Jiang Cheng kissed the corner of his mouth in reconciliation.

By the time Jiang Cheng entered him, Huaisang was trembling, achingly close. His eyes would widen when Jiang Cheng pulled out again, and he’d tried to quicken the pace to satisfy himself, but Jiang Cheng held him down, reveling in the anguished sound he received in return. When he started moving again, Huaisang would come almost instantly, clinging onto him and gasping. Jiang Cheng kept going, chasing his own high. He found that if he continued, Huaisang could come again and again, pulsing tightly around Jiang Cheng as he finished.

As much as Jiang Cheng delighted in watching Huaisang’s expressions, as much as he enjoyed the physicality of it all, the truth was that above all, he just wanted to stay in Huaisang’s arms for a little bit longer.

Afterwards, Jiang Cheng's exhaustion hit him all at once. With Huaisang’s warmth beneath him, his eyes fluttered shut. He could indulge for just a moment, and then he would return back to where he was needed. He started to drift off.

“Jiang Wanyin...?”

Huaisang's voice brought him back to reality. He jerked awake and sat up at once.

“I— Sorry—” He stumbled as he got out of bed, reaching for his robes.

“You don't need to be in such a hurry.” Huaisang reached for him again, and Jiang Cheng paused.

“It’s okay,” Huaisang said soothingly, redoing a few of Jiang Cheng’s buttons and smoothing out his collar. “You can take your time. Have you been sleeping enough? I don’t want our visits to interfere with your rest.”

“I’m fine,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’ll be fine.” Huaisang worrying for his sleep was much more preferable than him knowing the truth. After a pause, he leaned forward ever so slightly, the smallest of motions. At least he would have plausible deniability in case Huaisang laughed at him and asked what he was doing.

Huaisang only blinked, taking a moment to figure out what Jiang Cheng seemed to be asking of him. Then, he smiled a little, and balancing on his tiptoes, he gave Jiang Cheng a small kiss.

“Bye, Jiang-xiong,” he whispered.

“See you soon?” Jiang Cheng asked, hating how defenseless he sounded. He seriously thought about telling Huaisang then, telling him how his heart wavered, how sometimes he thought about what a future for the two of them would look like, if they continued to stay in each other’s orbit.

“Of course,” Huaisang replied. After a pause, he gave Jiang Cheng another kiss, sweet and chaste.

All Jiang Cheng wanted then was for Huaisang to ask him to stay, to fall asleep with their limbs tangled together, but evidently, Huaisang did not understand this request, and Jiang Cheng couldn’t ask. At times like this, Jiang Cheng wanted to throw all pretense away. Let’s just admit it, he thought. What we do to each other. Only the last hints of restraint held him back, thin threads of string suppressing a flood.

He could only cast a lingering glance as he left. There was always so much that he couldn’t say.

His own bed in Yunmeng now seemed ill-fitting, somehow. When sleep evaded him, he would walk down to the docks, empty only in the hours just before dawn. He’d wonder how exactly he’d gotten to this point, mooning and pathetic. He could no longer blame Huaisang for the sorry state he’d fallen to. This was all his own doing.

He really should have run when he still had the chance.

Two nights later, the combination of sleeplessness and a few emptied bottles of rice wine made him bold. If he couldn’t sleep because of Huaisang, then the obvious conclusion was to inform Huaisang of that and ask him to take responsibility.

That seemed to be solid logic. He took off on sandu before he could change his mind.

Snow began coming down, gradually at first, but as Jiang Cheng flew, the wind picked up it became more and more difficult to see. The temperature dropped considerably as he moved north, sobering him up instantly. Snow came in heavy torrents, barraging downwards. The wind was bitterly cold. He grimaced and picked up speed. At this point, he was much closer to Qinghe than he was to Yunmeng. There was no turning back in this weather. He had to get to safety and wait out the storm.

By the time he arrived in the Unclean Realm, the ground was blanketed in a thick sea of pure white. The only marks in the snow were his own footprints as he dismounted and walked the last few steps to the main compound. Just as he reached the door, doubt rose up his throat, and he hesitated.

What on earth was he doing? It had to be past midnight. No disciples were milling about. There was no need to disturb Huaisang at this hour. He’d never come so late before, and so quickly after his last visit. He wondered if it would be possible to quietly wait out the storm, and then fly back to Lotus Pier. The cold nipped at his ears and the tips of his fingers. This was the result of acting on his drunken stupor, he thought to himself. He looked up at the snowfall, which showed no sign of letting up anytime soon.

“Sect Leader Jiang.” The door behind him opened, and Huaisang walked out to greet him. The snowflakes settled in his hair, on the shoulders of his heavy robes, on the tips of his eyelashes. Dusted in white, illuminated by the silvery moon and a single flickering lantern, he resembled an otherworldly elemental sprite.

“What are you doing here?” Huaisang asked.

“Night-hunting,” came Jiang Cheng’s thoroughly unconvincing reply.

Huaisang studied him. “Is that so?”

If he thought Jiang Cheng’s excuse was flimsy, he didn’t comment further. “It’s unfortunate that you ran into such poor weather,” he said, looking up at the sky.

Jiang Cheng only nodded.

“Will you come in?”

Jiang Cheng nodded again.

“I couldn’t possibly let you go home in that.” Huaisang told him as he escorted Jiang Cheng inside. He gestured towards the window, where the wind whipped up the snow in gales. At times, nothing could be seen but white.

Jiang Cheng swallowed. He wasn’t too keen on flying through a storm, either, but another matter had him on edge. He’d never spent the night, not in any of the times they’d slept together. It occurred to him that he only knew where Huaisang’s quarters were and nothing else.

“Where are your guest rooms?” he asked.

Huaisang paused for a moment, surprised. “Ah,” he glanced away, contemplating. “Follow me,” he said, but he only walked a handful of steps before he stopped again, turning back to look at Jiang Cheng, expression achingly sincere.

“On second thought… it will be cold tonight,” he said quietly, pressing his hands together, mouth quirking up into a small smile. “Will you keep me warm?”

He didn’t need to ask twice. Instantly, Jiang Cheng was pressing him up against the wall, kissing him hard and desperate. The way Huaisang surrendered to him on reflex made him dizzy with want. He slid a leg between Huaisang’s thighs and felt how he was already reacting, which only served to make Jiang Cheng bolder.

This night was different, kisses longer and more lingering. Underneath the blankets, Jiang Cheng spent a while languidly leaving marks all along Huaisang’s ribs before he found himself moving lower. He settled between Huaisang’s legs and slowly kissed up the soft skin of his thighs, tongue circling his entrance before pushing in. He took pride in the startled gasp that escaped, the way Huaisang squirmed underneath him and clamped down around him. Huaisang’s half-hearted protests of Jiang-xiong, you don’t have to, quickly died down and melted into soft sighs. By the time Jiang Cheng pushed two fingers in, he yielded easily.

They lost themselves in each other. Outside, the wind howled and whipped around. Safely indoors and protected by sturdy walls, it really seemed as if the world had shrunk to hold just the two of them. Jiang Cheng followed the dip of Huaisang’s waist, hands wandering freely over slim hips as their bodies joined together.

Huaisang’s fingers trailed appreciatively along Jiang Cheng’s bicep. “I’m glad you came,” he breathed, arms looping around his neck. “I was already missing you. How fortuitous that a storm chased you my way.”

Jiang Cheng responded by placing Huaisang’s legs on his shoulders. It fascinated him to watch the spot where Huaisang took him in so easily now, the slight movements Huaisang made when Jiang Cheng pushed into him.

“I like you like this. You should really see yourself,” Jiang Cheng told him. Tonight, Huaisang felt like his, and only his, and that thought was almost as intoxicating as Huaisang himself. Jiang Cheng wanted to drink him in and savor him. His thumb brushed over Huaisang’s cheek. “You’re stunning.”

Huaisang, evidently unused to such attention being placed on him, flushed scarlet. This only made Jiang Cheng want to continue, wanting to see just how flustered Huaisang would become. His lips found Huaisang’s neck, and he pressed a kiss right above where his pulse was.

“Please—more—ah,” Before Huaisang could even finish asking, Jiang Cheng had responded accordingly. All Huaisang wanted that night, Jiang Cheng would give to him. As long as he was able to keep him close like this, he thought that he’d agree to just about anything.

“Here?” He asked, just to tease. When they’d just started out, Huaisang would guide him, but now he knew how to angle himself, where to keep aiming in order to please them both.

“Y-yes…”

“As you wish,” Jiang Cheng said, taking Huaisang’s hand and kissing the inside of his wrist. That earned him another gasp.

“Jiang Wanyin,” Huaisang whispered, eyes glassy. Jiang Cheng laced their fingers together and leaned down to kiss him. Something had changed between them. The word that kept coming to Jiang Cheng’s mind was intimate. Why was it that when he was around Huaisang, he’d fall into a reverie? That when they came together, the world seemed the slightest bit more bearable?

Jiang Cheng didn’t think he’d ever stop wanting him. He sped up his movements and Huaisang clung to him, kissing him deeper.

“It’s only you,” Huaisang murmured, looking up at him in wonder, and Jiang Cheng felt his heart swell in his chest. He watched as Huaisang convulsed around him and came apart underneath him. Jiang Cheng felt pleasure wash over him in waves, unwinding him until he was completely spent, pulse thrumming.

He’d never allowed himself to stay for more than a few moments afterwards, let alone for an entire night. But, this time, with the storm only becoming heavier outside, he had nowhere to go. He told himself he didn’t have a choice. He collapsed in exhaustion on top of Huaisang, face buried in the crook of Huaisang’s neck, enveloped by the sweet scent of his hair.

This was dangerous, he knew, the gentle lull of Huaisang’s voice in his ear, the way his fingers would thread through Jiang Cheng’s hair, in a way that Jiang Cheng so desperately wanted to call doting and affectionate.

Before, he’d scoffed at Lan Xichen’s misfortune, the mistake he’d made by putting his trust in the wrong person, his heart in the wrong hands. He hadn’t seen why anyone would willingly do such a thing. Now, with a sinking stomach, he thought he finally understood. It didn’t matter if he could trust Nie Huaisang. He wanted him nonetheless. In that moment, he saw no reason why they couldn’t stay together.

Slowly, Huaisang’s arms came around him, holding him so softly that if Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, all he felt was weightless warmth. Huaisang’s fingers trailed through his hair and down his back, over and over again in slow, hypnotic motions.

They shouldn’t be doing this, they both knew, but how could Jiang Cheng say anything when this was all he’d ever wanted, all he’d been unable to ask for? He thought that even the threat of imminent death couldn’t move him just then. Huaisang’s touch was light, lingering as he pressed a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s crown. Jiang Cheng fell asleep just like that, to the rise and fall of Huaisang’s chest and the sound of his steady heartbeat, swaying him as gently as a lullaby.

In winter, Qinghe's skies became overcast and cloudy, and endless sea of gray. More often than not, its residents woke to a fine layer of snow covering the ground. However, Jiang Cheng opened his eyes to the sun streaming through the window. Sometime during the night, their positions had shifted so that they faced each other. He cradled Huaisang with one arm, with Huaisang’s forehead resting on his chest, right above where his heart was. He fit so perfectly, as if he was meant to be there from the very start.

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, almost dozing off again when he felt Huaisang shift and move away. Instantly, he was wide awake. Huaisang was sitting some distance from him, looking at him uncertainly. Jiang Cheng suddenly felt ill at ease. He’d woken up more content than he’d ever felt, but the emotion in Huaisang’s eyes looked too close to remorse. The air between them grew heavy.

In that moment, Jiang Cheng recognized the fear that he felt. He'd been able to deny it, pushing it away again and again, but last night had marked the end of the line. He was no longer able to keep doing so. That much was apparent.

“Huaisang.” What was there to say? What could he say? Their relationship remained ambiguous. What they had was not love. He didn’t want to love Nie Huaisang. Love, for him, had always been tied up with grief, with loss, two inseparable halves of one miserable whole.

“What is it?” Huaisang asked, features softening. He reached out slowly, hesitantly, as if he expected Jiang Cheng to spurn him.

Huaisang, truly a man of many faces, was quite possibly the last person Jiang Cheng should be putting his faith into. Was he senseless enough to believe that this time, it would work out? That somehow, it would be different with him? That Huaisang wouldn’t disappear like all the rest? After all, Nie Huaisang certainly did not need him. He had nothing tying himself to Jiang Cheng. No blood, no promises. If even those could be severed, what chance did they stand? Those he cared for the best always did the most harm, after all. This was a lesson that he’d learned time and time again. He didn’t want to be left behind once more. He didn’t think that he could bear it.

His fear won, in the end.

“We… we can't keep doing this. We should keep some distance,” he heard himself saying. It sounded pathetic, even to his own ears. Regret sank into his bones before the words even finished leaving his mouth. He couldn’t take them back. He knew.

Huaisang’s hand froze in midair, halfway towards Jiang Cheng’s cheek before he retracted it. Jiang Cheng scanned his face, wondering if Huaisang would protest, looking for any indication of disappointment, anything at all that would suggest that this wasn’t what he wanted, any sign that showed that he cared. He found no such thing.

“Ah,” Huaisang looked away, expression unreadable. “I…” His gaze fell to his lap. “I think that would be for the best.”

Jiang Cheng had wanted for Huaisang to tell him no, and that against all odds, they would make it work. Their lives may have been thoroughly unkind to them, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still find comfort in each other.

Huaisang didn’t say any of that. He didn’t say anything at all. Jiang Cheng dressed in silence, numb fingers fumbling over his robes. This time, Huaisang didn't come to help him when he missed several ties and buttons.

He reached for his sword, ready to leave at a moment’s notice, but he faltered at the window. He knew that if he left, that really would be the end for them. Huaisang saw his hesitation. “Wait,” he said, and Jiang Cheng’s heart lurched with hope. Huaisang really had a way of defying expectations, bringing out the aspects of Jiang Cheng that he’d thought were long-lost.

“You haven’t made an enemy of me, Jiang Wanyin,” he murmured, as serious as Jiang Cheng had ever seen him. “I want to make that clear.”

Once again, Jiang Cheng could only nod. He told himself that it was only his pride that was hurt, and not his heart.

“Take care,” Huaisang told him as he mounted sandu.

“…You, too.”

Just like that, it was over, ending as quickly as it had begun.