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Chapter Text

Huaisang had found the book among the belongings of Mo Xuanyu. Something the man had stolen from Carp Tower before leaving, and which in turn his cousin had stolen from him. Huaisang had only wanted to make sure Mo Xuanyu had left nothing that would compromise him, nothing that Wei Wuxian could use to prove his implication, should the mood strike him.

That book contained a number of dangerous rituals from ages past, curses, and all manners of demonic cultivation of the worst sort. Not something that interested Huaisang, but too dangerous to be left where anyone might find it. He’d brought it back to the Unclean Realm, and forgotten it for a few months. He’d been busy. Without Lan Xichen to help him, running his sect had become a much harder task. But his husband was in Cloud Recesses, hiding in seclusion to atone for his role in Jin Guangyao’s death and… Huaisang held no illusions. He knew Lan Xichen would not come back to him.

That was fine. He’d had years to get used to the idea. What they had shared for a while had been pleasant, yes, but… Huaisang knew what sort of a man he was. He did not deserve happiness, no more than Jin Guangyao had.

He did not miss Lan Xichen, because he had no right to miss him. Not after making him a murderer. Not after destroying the only truly good person he’d ever met.

It was boredom that led him back to Mo Xuanyu’s book, as well as some degree of curiosity. He’d never held much interest in cultivation, let alone in that of the unlawful sort but… it was winter. Things were slow in the Unclean Realm, and everywhere he looked, he saw reminders of what he should never have had in the first place. Compared to the loneliness of a cold bed, a book of curses felt almost pleasant.

That was how he found one particular ritual. One that promised to give a chance to correct mistakes of the past, if one was willing to make the necessary sacrifices. The requirements were rather gory, several animals needed to die and so would the caster but the promised reward was enticing: to send one’s consciousness back in time and inhabit once more the body of their youth.

Ridiculous.

And yet, night after night, Huaisang found himself coming back to the book, to that page. The things that ritual demanded would make him a full monster, one beyond redemption… although perhaps he’d crossed that line already. But if it worked, if it were real, it could save Mingjue. If he could prevent his brother from taking Meng Yao as his second… or perhaps not that, since that line of event had helped toward a shorter war. Still, at least, if he could stop Meng Yao from provoking that Qi deviation… then Mingjue could live.

A fanciful notion, and one that amused Huaisang for a while.

Until one day, it hit him that it wouldn’t be only Mingjue’s fate he would change.

If he were to do this, he would alter Lan Xichen’s life too. His husband wouldn’t go through heartbreak, he would get to marry the man he loved, he would get to be happy.

There were few things Huaisang wouldn’t have done for his brother.

Those things, he realised with mild horror, he would gladly do just to see Xichen smile again, even if it would never be at him.

Huaisang did not want to think about what that said about him, about the way he felt for the man who had stood at his side for a decade. He had lost Xichen in this life and, as he gathered the required elements for the ritual, he knew he was preparing to lose him in another one too.

It was fine, he reminded himself as his blade cut through his skin in complicated patterns, letting his blood join that of a number of animals. Lan Xichen had never been his to have.

He collapsed soon after, unsure what might happen.

It was a surprise when he opened his eyes and found himself in a room both foreign and familiar, bathed in the pale light of early morning as a bell rang in the distance. Cloud Recesses. The ritual had worked.

Huaisang smirked to himself.

So he’d really been given a second chance. He’d make it count.

Mingjue and Xichen would be happy, no matter what it cost him.

Chapter Text

The problem, the real problem, was that at the end of the day, Huaisang liked Jiang Cheng. Back in his original time, the Jiang Sect Leader was one of the few people who did not treat him like he was an idiot.

Well. No more than he treated everyone else like an idiot, anyway. Jiang Cheng had grown into a dark bitter man.

But here and there, he was not bitter yet. Here and there, he was a hopeless young man, hurt beyond words by loss, being tricked into doing something that would lead to death and destruction.

Here and there, at a distance, Jiang Cheng was getting his eyes covered by a blindfold. In a handful of hours at most, Wen Qing would start operating on him and Wei Wuxian. This would lead to the birth of the Yiling Patriarch, whose innovations would cause the envy of the Jin sect, which would lead to them taking in Xue Yang, to Mingjue’s sense of justice denouncing their actions, eventually culminating with his death.

The Yiling patriarch could not be allowed to exist.

But Huaisang’s first attempt to stop this had failed. He hadn’t gotten to Lotus Piers in time.

He’d barely gotten to this mountain at the right time, flying his sword as fast as his mediocre cultivation allowed, torn by the choice he had to make.

The problem was that he liked Jiang Cheng, and resented Wei Wuxian who had revealed his plan in front of Lan Xichen in that temple.

The choice should have been easy to make, and yet his hands trembled as he picked up the bow he’d stolen from a Wen cultivator and infused it with as much spiritual energy as he dared. Easy did not mean pleasant.

It was for Mingjue, he reminded himself as he took aim. It was for Xichen.

He sent the arrow flying.

It hit Jiang Cheng’s throat with enough force to pass through it. Red blood sprayed from the wound, hitting Wei Wuxian’s face. At this distance, Huaisang couldn’t see his expression, but it was too easy to imagine.

But the choice, really, had been easy. Jiang Cheng was clever and strong and stubborn, he had been highly praised by their peers… but it was Wei Wuxian’s intervention who had won the war. Hopefully he could do it again, even without demonic cultivation.

He had to.

Jiang Cheng couldn’t have died in vain.

Chapter Text

The wedding was beautiful, of course. Much nicer than the one Huaisang had gotten, although in Madam Nie's defense, they had been barely out of mourning and it would have been in poor taste to celebrate too ostentatiously.

Huaisang had never realised how sad his wedding was until he saw that one. Mingjue was glowing with happiness. Lan Xichen's face was hidden under a veil, but it was easy to guess he must have been smiling too. The way he moved, the way he kept turning toward his new husband, everything showed how happy he was.

How happy they both were.

It made the rest worth it. Jiang Cheng had died, the war had been a long bloodbath, the boy who would have become Lan Sizhui had perished with his family in the Jin work camps, but... at least Mingjue and Lan Xichen were together as they had always been meant to be.

His brother and the man they both loved were all that mattered.

As he watched them retire for their wedding night (Huaisang remembered how Xichen had cried for theirs, but there would be no tears this time) someone came to join him on the periphery of the other guests.

“I suppose that makes us brothers now,” Huaisang noted without looking away from Lan Xichen. He should have. He couldn't. He'd done good these last few years when it came to ignoring his feelings (he'd always done good at that, even back in his first life) but that day they were too strong.

“Hm.”

Mingjue and Lan Xichen had disappeared at last. Huaisang turned to look at Lan Wangji who, even on the day of his brother's wedding, looked as cold and uncaring as ever.

“It calms down,” Lan Wangji said.

“What does? They passion?” Huaisang couldn't help a bitter chuckle at the thought. In this life too, Mingjue and Lan Xichen had cheated the rules of their engagement and found comfort during the war. Here too he'd done his best to help them hide it. If their passion could have died, it would have done so already.

“Your pain,” Lan Wangji corrected, something softening in his face.

He would know about that, of course.

Huaisang remembered how shocked they had all been during the war when Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian had suddenly announced their own marriage... but none had been as shocked as Lan Wangji. At the time Huaisang had tried to offer some comfort, because he had seen the way Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian had looked at each other at the Guanyin temple, the way they'd held to one another, the way they had worked together so effortlessly. Love like that was a precious thing, and Huaisang was almost sorry that it would never get to happen.

“I am very happy for my brother and yours,” Huaisang assured him.

He did not like the look with which Lan Wangji answered. There was too much compassion in it, too much understanding.

“Am I really that obvious about it?” Huaisang asked, turning away and trying to school his face into a more pleasant mask. He thought he'd done a good enough job at hiding himself, but...

“No,” Lan Wangji replied. “They won't have noticed. People don't look at you.”

But Lan Wangji had been looking. It was annoying that way the Lan could see through him when they bothered.

“You still think about him, don't you?” Huaisang asked, his eyes falling on the door through which the newlyweds had left.

“Yes.”

“And it still hurts.”

“Hm.”

“Do you figure that ever stops?”

“You learn to live with it.”

Huaisang grimaced at that unpleasant answer. What else could he have expected from Lan Wangji?

“You might meet someone,” Lan Wangji added, in a tone that strongly implied he wouldn't, that there would never be anyone but Wei Wuxian for him.

“No, I don't suppose I will,” Huaisang muttered, thinking of all the way his Xichen had seen him and understood him and trusted him, right until he'd realised what a monster he had married. If even someone as kind and forgiving as Lan Xichen had ended up rejecting him, Huaisang held no illusions for his chances of being loved someday. “It's fine though. Love and marriage, it's not for me. I'm just glad he's happy.”

That certainty was more than Lan Wangji had to console himself. Everyone knew Wei Wuxian had married his adoptive sister only out of necessity, so he could have more legitimacy to speak in her name, so she wouldn't be forced to marry someone else who would take over her sect.

It was funny, in a way. Huaisang had managed to make sure Jin Guangyao wouldn't marry his sister, but in turn he had provoked that marriage between two people who had never seen each other as anything but siblings. Quite hilarious, if you had the wrong sense of humour.

“Come, brother Wangji, let's go find something to eat. Mother promised it'd be a feast great enough to rival that of a Jin wedding, it would be a shame not to enjoy that at least.”

Lan Wangji nodded, returning to his cold and serious expression while Huaisang made efforts to widen his smile.

It was a happy night after all.

His brother had gotten married.

Chapter Text

It had been easy, up to that point, to pretend that things were fine. If Huaisang pretended hard enough, he could convince himself that he felt nothing more than the mild annoyance of his first lifetime at seeing his brother with Lan Xichen. For how clever these two were on the battlefield, they really behaved like naughty children when it came to each other, forcing Huaisang to step in and be the responsible adult. It had pissed him off when he'd been young and... well, he was young again he supposed, but he was also older than Mingjue had ever gotten to be in that other life.

That was the only reason his blood sometimes boiled when he caught a glimpse of Lan Xichen kissing Mingjue : Huaisang had become an old man, just as grumpy as Madam Nie.

That excuse worked until the wedding. Before that, he did not get to see Lan Xichen all that often, anyway. Too busy with helping rebuild Cloud Recesses, with giving a hand to Jin Guangyao and Jin Zixuan... but of course, that changed once he was married to Mingjue.

Suddenly, Lan Xichen was constantly there. Always smiling, always cheerful, chatting with Madam Nie as if he enjoyed it, kindly giving orders to the servants, teaching the younger disciples. He seemed happy. He had to be happy. But if this was how he looked and acted when he was happy, then it meant...

Of course, Huaisang knew this wasn't his Xichen. That it would never be. And just because This Lan Xichen looked this way when he was happy didn't mean his had been too. Or if Xichen had been happy, it didn't mean he'd been happy with Huaisang. It was just a tribute to his sunny disposition, his capacity to see the best in any situation. Xichen had been happy in spite of being married to him, not because of it.

It was something Huaisang clung to. If they were not happy in that other life, then it didn't matter than things ended in disaster, that Xichen left. If Xichen was not happy there, it justified all the horrors that Huaisang had committed to ensure he was happy here.

And yet so often he would catch Lan Xichen looking at Mingjue with a soft smile on his lips, so similar to the way his Xichen had looked at him sometimes when they were working together or after they made love, and...

Huaisang always felt the impulse to run away when that happened. It was that or being forced to realise just how much he had had in his first life, how much he had ruined.

Most importantly though, he just didn't want to feel envious of what his brother had. Mingjue deserved happiness. Mingjue wasn't a murderer. Mingjue wasn't a liar. Mingjue was good and honest and he deserved the love of Lan Xichen, just as Lan Xichen deserved to stand at the side of a great man, not some little weasely runt.

So Huaisang, discreetly, started avoiding Lan Xichen. He found excuses to never be too long in the same room as his brother-in-law. When that wasn't enough, when just the proximity of Lan Xichen became too much to bear, Huaisang took to travelling. In this life, no one asked him when he would be back, no one asked him to make promises. Mingjue told him to be careful whenever he left, and that was it.

There was plenty to do for Huaisang. Night Hunts, sure, but also painting whenever he found some place pretty enough... although mostly, what he did was keep track of the people he had changed.

He always went to Carp Tower as his first stop. Jin Zixuan, in spite of his youth, had been doing a great job as Sect Leader since his father's death soon after the end of the Sunshot Campaign (a tragic accident. Nobody could have proven Huaisang's involvement. Nobody could have imagined there was something to prove). Of course it helped that he had the support of his half brother... and it was always weird to Huaisang to find how different Jin Guangyao was in this life. Still a sneaky little bastard, but since Jin Zixuan had welcomed him with open arm and treated him with sincere affection, his bitterness wasn't poisoning him. Huaisang always kept an eye on him in case, though. He was not a man to trust anyone.

Who he went to see after that would vary. Sometimes he went to the Laoling Qin sect, where Qin Su was still getting over the disappointment of her one-sided passion for Jin Guangyao. She did not know the truth of her birth, although Jin Guangyao and Jin Zixuan did. Hopefully, the secret would never need to be revealed to her.

Other times, he would go to Yiling. There was no one to see there. There had never been anyone to see, in this new life. But Huaisang did not know where the boy who should have become Lan Sizhui was buried, and this was close enough. He had liked his nephew by alliance, and he knew Xichen had loved the boy dearly. But he had been too slow to kill Jin Guangshan. For those few Wen survivors, it had already been too late... and perhaps that was why he'd never trust Jin Guangyao in this life either. He had allowed this to happen.

Then, no matter what else he did, his last visit was always for Lotus Piers. Huaisang did not think either of the Sect Leaders were ever particularly happy to see him. Sometimes he thought they could feel what he had done, even if they could not comprehend it. Jiang Cheng's death was the closest thing to a regret that he could feel. If given the choice again, he would let the core transfer happen and kill Wei Wuxian instead. Perhaps Wei Wuxian could feel that also.

After that, going back to the Unclean Realm was almost a relief.

Almost.

But not quite.

After all, when he arrived there was no white silhouette to wait for him. Nobody to whom he could gift pretty pastries. Nobody to kiss him and hold him and take him to bed and make him feel like he mattered, like he was enough for once in his life.

Instead he had to start witnessing again that unbearable happiness that did not, could not, would not involve him. He had to see Mingjue laugh and smile, had to see Lan Xichen's tenderness directed at someone else, all of that under the benevolent gaze of Madam Nie who was so satisfied by the situation that she hardly ever remembered to nag at Huaisang, as if he weren't even worth that effort anymore.

He always returned to the Unclean Realm, but he never stayed long. Just enough time to gather information for new Night Hunts, to prepare new talisman and store away whatever he'd painted on his last trip (he was running out of space. In this life, Mingjue had never ravaged his room) and then he was gone again.

He was making a stash of talismans in his room, getting ready to leave again in a few days, when one morning Lan Xichen came knocking at his door.

“I thought we might talk?” he said in a gentle, careful tone that made Huaisang want to break into tears. “I know you do not like to have others in your room, but...”

“It's fine,” Huaisang replied, putting enormous efforts into keeping his voice neutral and his face indifferent. “Sorry for the mess.”

Lan Xichen smiled but made no comment as he came to sit on the opposite side of the table rather than next to Huaisang, as he would have done in their other life.

“Did I do something wrong, brother Xichen?”

“I came to ask you the same question,” Lan Xichen replied, his face showing open concern. “Have I offended you since marrying your brother, Huaisang?”

Huaisang blinked a few times, too genuinely surprised to hide it. “Of course not, brother Xichen. Why would you ask this?”

“Because you have avoided me since that day,” Lan Xichen explained.

Huaisang's heart jumped in his chest. It shouldn't have made him this happy that Lan Xichen, even in this life, had paid attention to him. It meant nothing, it was just that his brother-in-law was a good and kind man, that family mattered to him, that Huaisang hadn't bothered being subtle in his avoidance. Still, Lan Xichen had noticed. He had drawn the wrong conclusion about it, as he so often did, but he had noticed and that was something.

“Brother Xichen, I assure you that was not my intention,” Huaisang said. The lie came easily, an odd cheerfulness bubbling in his chest. Would Lan Xichen notice this too, the way he'd always seen through the lies in their other life? “If you are saying this because I am so little around, I assure you it's not your fault! But... well. Brother Xichen, you know I don't get along too well with Mother. I couldn't escape easily before, but I'm of age now, so she can't stop me from Night Hunting all I want. As to why it started after your marriage... well, before that, I had to be around in case you needed a chaperone, didn't I?”

Huaisang allowed himself a smirk. Without surprise Lan Xichen's cheeks coloured slightly at the implication, although he did not look particularly ashamed of this reminder. If anything, he seemed to be fighting a smile.

“If you bore with Mother's bad temper for our sake, I owe you thanks,” Lan Xichen said. “But really, is she the only reason you are gone so often? I have truly not offended you somehow?”

“Truly. You could never offend me, brother Xichen,” Huaisang claimed, a little more earnestly than he intended. But Lan Xichen cared, not the way Huaisang wanted him to, needed him to, but he cared, he had paid attention, he had noticed and that was something, wasn't it?

Still he feared for a moment that he'd allowed too much emotion to come to the surface. Lan Xichen gazed at him oddly for a second or two, before his smile turned impersonally soft again.

“I am glad to hear that. And I hope... we both know Mother's health has not been the best lately. After the worst has come, I hope we will see more of you. It would make your brother very happy. He misses you so when you are gone.”

“He misses having someone do the accounting for him, you mean,” Huaisang grumbled.

Lan Xichen laughed at the joke, a light, crystal clear sound that Huaisang had heard hundreds of times in their other life. It always used to make him want to kiss his Xichen, so beautiful when he forgot his Lan restraint. He had rarely resisted that impulse, especially as time had gone on. He had learned that Xichen welcomed those spontaneous moments of affection, craving tenderness as deeply as Huaisang did.

It was a real struggle to not lean above the table and kiss him in this life too. Huaisang did not think he had ever wanted anything so badly in his life... and if this had been his Xichen, it wouldn't have mattered, his husband would have kissed him before perhaps suggesting that they were not needed for anything and could retire to their bedroom for a little while until dinner, and...

But this was not his Xichen. This man sitting across from him would never want him. This man loved another, was happy with another, would always belong to another because Huaisang would not let anyone harm his brother in this life. He would personally murder every man, woman, child and elder in the cultivation world if that was what it took, but nobody would take Mingjue from Lan Xichen this time.

The world could burn. If these two were happy, there was nothing Huaisang wouldn't do to keep them that way.

Chapter Text

He's just a boy, Huaisang thought, staring from a distance.

Of course, he'd always known that Xue Yang was young. He'd heard he wasn't more than sixteen or seventeen at the time of the massacre of the Yueyang Chang Clan, and that would have been years in the future.

As it was, the Sunshot Campaign had just finally ended. It had taken half a year more than it had last time, it had cost many more lives too, but it was over at last. The next part of Huaisang's plan was to make sure no conflict could erupt between the Nie sect and the Jin one and... that was going well so far. Most of the problem had come from the Yiling Patriarch's legacy, and Wei Wuxian was too busy running a sect with his sister-wife to ever think of demonic cultivation, nor would he need to. Jin Guangshan was still capable of creating problems, but Huaisang was getting ready to take care of that too. He had the means, he just needed the occasion.

Without his father's influence, Jin Guangyao would be much less of a threat, so that would be killing two birds with one stone.

Still, while he prepared for his second murder in cold blood, Nie Huaisang had found himself wondering about the person who, in a few years, would have become the catalyst for the divide between Nie Mingjue and Jing Guangyao: Xue Yang.

Without the support of the Jins, Xue Yang wasn't much of a threat. And without the need for demonic cultivators, the Jins would never lower themselves to take in a street rat like him. Still, Huaisang felt slightly guilty that by his fault, a monster like that one remained at large. He knew what Xue Yang was capable of. He'd heard what had happened to the Chang Sect. He'd seen what he had done to Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen. He's witnessed the games he'd played in Yi City.

Huaisang's soul had been blackened this much already. A third murder wouldn't be much. Since he had not learned cultivation yet, it would be easy to kill Xue Yang.

He had arrived in Kuizhou a few days earlier, and set down to work to track the monster. It had been surprisingly easy. A disturbingly smiling youth with a missing finger? There were not many of those, and Xue Yang had never been known for subtlety. Huaisang had had no trouble finding which parts of town he was most active in.

So there he was now, sitting inside a sub-par tavern, staring through a window toward a group of teenagers. Xue Yang was easily the youngest of the group, but already he was rather tall. How old could he be? Twelve, thirteen at most? Perhaps younger, it was hard to say with a face like his. And yet there could be no doubt that this group of older boys was under his thrall. Young, but already good at manipulating people.

Nie Huaisang tore his eyes from the teenagers and took a sip of tea.

He knew he had caused the death of children already. There had been a war, and that war had dragged on longer than necessary. To make it worse, it was only too well known to him how many Wens had died, were dying, would die in the Jin work camps, many of them no more than toddlers. He knew because he'd been there in secret once or twice to try and see if he could find Lan Sizhui, but he'd never discovered the right group of Wens. Too much had changed, Wen Qing's people had been taken to a different place. More deaths to weigh him down.

But none of these children had been directly killed by him. He had killed adults, yes (it was a war, and in fairness they would have killed him too given the chance) and he had murdered Jiang Cheng who had still been so young but... but never a child, never an actual child. He hadn't fallen that low yet. Even a monster had things he wasn't willing to do, especially when he couldn't be sure what Xue Yang would become in the future.

A criminal, certainly, as he already was one and he had no one to put him on a better path. But how dangerous would he be? And who could say he wouldn't make a fateful encounter than would change his ways, leading him to become a good man. He was impossibly clever after all, nearly on the same level as Wei Wuxian. With the right training, the right mindset, Xue Yang could perhaps revolutionise the cultivation world in all the ways Wei Wuxian wouldn't get the chance to.

That train of thought was broken when someone pulled on the chair on the other side of Huaisang's table and sat down across from him.

The boy smiled so widely it revealed an unsettling smile with an empty slot where one canine was still growing.

“I hear you've been asking about me?” Xue Yang asked in a voice that had not yet broken. “I've got to wonder what I've done that they'd send a cultivator after me this time.”

Huaisang maintained a neutral expression, but already he was impressed. He had his sabre with him of course, but aside from that he'd made sure to dress up like an merchant to avoid bringing attention to himself. For most people, changing his clothes and hair was enough. Xue Yang, no matter how young, wasn't most people.

“Are you very used to be chased, then?” Huaisang asked.

He already knew the answer of course. Part of what made it so startling to see Xue Yang was that his reputation was already impressive, and he had always escaped being captured by authorities. He wouldn't be caught by anyone in his life, not until a righteous cultivator dedicated himself to the task, never knowing how much it would cost him.

“I'm used to a lot of things,” Xue Yang replied dismissively, grabbing Huaisang's tea and shamelessly drinking it. He inspected the adult a little longer, and grinned too wickedly for someone who didn't have all his real teeth yet. “You don't look like someone that's going to cause me trouble. So I guess what's happening is you want me to cause trouble for you. Can be arranged. I ask to be paid first though.”

How terrible for a child to already know to make that demand.

“Why do you think I'm a cultivator?” Huaisang inquired.

“Saw your sword when you walked in the street. Normal people don't have one like that. Also, you stopped a moment in front of that old house, the one that's haunted. Most folks just walk faster, but you stopped and you frowned and I bet if you hadn't been more interest in me, you'd have done something about it.”

“You are a very observant boy,” Huaisang noted.

He'd known that about Xue Yang already, of course. He had known a lot about Xue Yang, but it was different from experiencing it. He also took note of the pride that flashed on the boy's face at being complimented, even if Xue Yang tried to hide it. No matter how clever or wicked, any child liked to be acknowledged.

“So, what d'you want me for?” Xue Yang asked, his grin turning greedy. “I can do anything, or I can have it done by someone else. It's easy.”

“Have you ever thought of joining a sect?”

The question startled Xue Yang enough that, for a brief moment, he looked like nothing more than an innocent child. In fairness, Huaisang too felt surprised. This wasn't part of the plan. He was supposed to kill Xue Yang or leave him alone, not... do whatever it was that he was now thinking of.

But of course, plans changed.

“Sects don't take people like me,” Xue Yang protested, nearly pouting in a way that could have been adorable if Huaisang hadn't known what that boy was. “And I'm too old.”

“That's not a no. And some sects take older disciples, as well as people who don't come from cultivating families.”

“Does yours?”

Huaisang hesitated. Qinghe Nie took in anyone as long as they were tough enough. With their founder a butcher, it would have been hypocritical to turn away people because of their birth.

At the same time, he did not want Xue Yang in his sect. First of all, Mingjue would hate that boy so much, as had been proven in their other life. Secondly, the thought of someone like Xue Yang anywhere near Lan Xichen made Huaisang sick to the core. He'd seen and heard what had happened to Xiao Xingchen who like Lan Xichen trusted too easily. He could not take that risk.

What Xue Yang needed was a place that could canalise his wild temperament without stifling it so much he'd run away, and people who could teach him that, actually, human lives other than his own did matter.

Ah.

Well, he'd ruined their lives this much already, what was a little more?

“My sect is not recruiting at the moment,” Huaisang explained with a hand wave. “But I have some friends who are in dire need of disciples. You've heard of the Sunshot Campaign?”

Xue Yang scoffed, as if that weren't even worth answering.

“You might have heard of the Yunmeng Jiang sect too, then.”

From the way his eyes widened, it was obvious Xue Yang had heard of them.

“Listen old man, you're pushing the lie too far!” he protested. “Even kids know that the Jiang sect is this big! What are you going to say next, that you're friend with its leader?”

Huaisang couldn't help a smile. A very clever boy indeed.

“Friend might be pushing it, but I know Jiang Yanli and her husband. I'm from the Nie sect myself.”

Xue Yang's face turned to a mocking grimace.

“You're lying too big again. You don't look anything like a Nie.”

That stung a little more than Huaisang would have expected. He was used to hearing that sort of things, it had been thrown to his face often enough... though mostly in his other life. Since he had fought in the war this time, people were a little more respectful of him. He'd proven his worth as a cultivator, and he was a little less scrawny than he had been when he avoided his sabre... but of course, Xue Yang was right: he'd never look like he belonged in his sect.

“And you're overconfident if you think you can school me,” Huaisang scolded lightly. “Believe me or not, I don't care.”

He rose from his chair. He had seen what he had to see, heard what he needed to hear. Xue Yang was already on his way to becoming the monster he had grown into, in another life, but it might still be stopped. The only question was how to get Wei Wuxian to come in this part of Kuizhou... though for once, trickery might not be the way. He knew Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian. If he told them he had met an orphan who showed promises for cultivation, they'd be interested. They were that sort of people.

He ignored Xue Yang as he made his way out of the tavern, but the boy wasn't done with him. Xue Yang actually ran after him, shouting and grabbing his robe to catch his attention.

“Hey, master Nie, you forgot that,” he announced, showing off a small box. “How much will you give to have it back?”

Huaisang glared, not at the boy but at the box. It had been stupid, a mistake on his end. An old habit that was difficult to shake off.

He always used to buy souvenirs for Xichen when he travelled but... Lan Xichen didn't even live with them yet, wouldn't for some more years, and even when he finally did, he wouldn't want gifts from Huaisang.

“It's just candies,” Huaisang snapped, pulling his robe away from Xue Yang's hand “You can keep them for all I care.”

He started walking again and to his relief, Xue Yang did not try to follow. When Huaisang turned around after a moment, he spotted the boy exactly in the spot where he had left him, greedily digging into the pretty box, gorging himself on the delicate candies. He'd get a stomach ache if he didn't slow down but... that was not Huaisang's concern. Xue Yang could choke on those candies and die, it would be a blessing for the world.

Still, Huaisang was determined that he would try to speak to Wei Wuxian.

He knew about being a boy too clever in a world too cruel. Perhaps, with the right people to guide him, Xue Yang might turn out less monstrous than Huaisang had.

Chapter Text

The young man caught Xue Yang’s wrist with surprising strength. He also easily avoided the kick to his shin, and the attempt to bite him, only tightening his grasp on Xue Yang until it even with his pain tolerance, it hurt. How strong was that asshole? And how could he do that and still be smiling?

“I guess Huaisang told the truth for once,” the man noted. “You have potential.”

“Help!” Xue Yang yelped, forcing his voice to go as high as it could so he’d sound younger and more scared. “Help me, he wants to take me away! Someone help please!”

That got all the attention he hoped for, but the man didn’t let go, no matter how many people looked their way. Weird. Usually, the well dressed ones worried just enough to give Xue Yang a chance to escape.

“I am not trying to harm that child, he wanted to steal my purse and I stopped him,” the young man noted, lifting said purse in a way that casually drew attention to the sword at his waist, the ornate sort that only cultivators had… and this one was even fancier than most. Xue Yang had guessed that the man was a cultivator of course, but maybe he was of a higher class than he should have messed with. “I’ll be taking care of that thief now,” the man continued when passersby stepped back a little. “Thank you all for your concern.”

“Be careful,” someone shouted. “That’s Xue Yang! He bit off someone’s ear last month.”

The cultivator smiled at the warning, and looked down at Xue Yang. He looked almost amused. Bastard.

Also, it had only been half an ear, so what were people complaining about anyway?

“Well, let’s go, Xue Yang,” the man ordered, pulling on his wrist with a strength that allowed no resistance. “I have some things to discuss with you. Do you know who I am?”

“A bastard,” Xue Yang spat, struggling to escape even when it was hopeless.

“Hey now, that’s rude. My parents were married before I was born. Hadn’t been married long, but that’s what counts,” the man added almost to himself, before raising his voice again. “Anyway, that isn’t the point. Who I am is Wei Wuxian of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect. You’ve heard of us, I think?”

Xue Yang stopped struggling so suddenly that he nearly fell forward. He would have, if not for the hand still firmly clasping his wrist.

The colour of the man’s robes fit with the Jiang Sect, and the quality of the cloth was fine enough to belong to someone of very high rank indeed, even if it had some tear and wear… but people said the Jiang Sect wasn’t exactly doing so well these days, so that fit too, right? And his sword… that fit the descriptions of Suibian that Xue Yang had heard, though of course anyone with money could have commissioned an imitation.

“You’re never the head of the Jiang Sect!”

“Indeed I’m not. That would be the honoured Jiang Yanli, who I have the pleasure to be married to.”

Well, that fit too. Everyone knew Wei Wuxian didn’t like to be called Sect Leader. So if this was an imitator, at least it was a good one. Much better than that fake Nie man of some weeks before, although perhaps he hadn’t lied about knowing Wei Wuxian, eh?

“What would someone like Wei Wuxian be doing in a place like that?” Xue Yang spat, before quickly pulling on his wrist to try and free himself. No such luck, that young man was holding on tight. “Ah, let me guess! You have a friend in the Nie Sect who told you about me, eh? I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you shouldn’t work with that guy. He looks like he’s hiding two dozen secrets at the same time, nobody’s going to trust you with a friend like that!”

“Nie Huaisang is not my friend,” the cultivator said, his voice calm but so cold that Xue Yang shivered as the man started pulling him forward once more. “He is not anyone’s friend. But we’ve all noticed that when he bothers sharing an opinion, it’s usually worth listening to him, so… here I am.”

Xue Yang blinked. That weird bastard of the other time had been Nie Huaisang? He still wasn’t sure how much he believed of this whole business but… Chifeng-Zun’s Shadow was known to be small for a cultivator, and not a very impressive man to look at. That matched what Xue Yang had noticed that day.

“I don’t work with sects,” Xue Yang warned, mostly on principle. Sects didn’t work with him either, mostly because they had their own ways to deal with this but… he had to pretend this was a normal conversation.

“You’re going to learn how to,” Wei Wuxian retorted. “I’m recruiting you for the Jiang Sect. Congratulations. We’re going there right now. If you have things you’ll want to take with you, tell me and I’ll send for them after we arrive in Lotus Piers.”

“Aren’t I supposed to have an opinion on that?” Xue Yang protested. “Maybe I don’t want to be a cultivator!”

Wei Wuxian stopped walking and turned to look at him. He wasn’t smiling anymore. If anything, he looked somewhat angry.

“Nie Huaisang said you did,” he replied. “And he suggested that you would be right at home in Lotus Piers. Now, I don’t like him, and it’s a well known fact that he hates me. He’s also a filthy liar who could sell you the moon twice in the same week. But I am pretty good at spotting when he does it, and my sister is even better at it. He told us he’d found a child with great potential, and he meant it. He also said that you were an absolute little shit, and either him or his brother would murder you if exposed to you for more than five minutes, but since Jiang Yanli has never throttled me yet, he thought her sect would be the right one for you.”

That was a lot of information to take in at once. Xue Yang tried not to let it get to his head that maybe not one, but two famed cultivators had decided there was something worthy of attention in him. He still wasn’t sure either men had been who they pretended to be, although this one was definitely good at faking it, and had invested money in it too. 

His slimy friend the other day also had money to waste: those candies he’d left behind had been the good stuff, coming from a shop so expensive Xue Yang couldn’t even afford to look at it.

Then, there was the fact that this supposed Wei Wuxian was still holding on to him in a manner that made it clear he did not intend to let go. That did limit his options, at least for the time being.

“Guess I’m coming then,” Xue Yang sniffed. “If you’re that desperate to have me in your stupid sect, I’ll do you a favour.”

“Smart boy,” Wei Wuxian retorted with a smirk that said he also knew Xue Yang did not have a choice, but he was willing to let him save face. “Let’s go.”

“No need to pull like that! And are we walking all the damn way to Yunmeng? Can’t we fly on your sword? What’s the point of you being a cultivator if you don’t even fly? Why… hey, listen, don’t pretend you can’t hear me! Let’s fly, Wei-gege!”

They did not fly.

Wei Wuxian bought a donkey and made Xue Yang ride it while he held the reins. The donkey was an annoying animal that refused to move when on the third night, as they had to sleep outside, Xue Yang tried to escape on it. Not that it mattered anyway because when he tried to run on foot instead, he found that Wei Wuxian had tied their wrists together with some sort of magical link.

“It’s not coming off until we’re in Lotus Piers,” Wei Wuxian announced from under his blanket, not even bothering to open his eyes.

Bastard.

Xue Yang considered gutting him in his sleep as a new plan, but… he had checked that Wei Wuxian really was asleep before trying to run, and the man had fooled him. And he knew that he had no chance against an awake cultivator.

He’d have to wait until Lotus Piers to take off, if that even was their real destination.

By the time they reached Lotus Piers, Xue Yang had reluctantly accepted that the man who had kidnapped him had to be either the real Wei Wuxian, or the world’s best impersonator since he had being recognised by plenty of people during their journey, especially as they had come nearer to Yunmeng. When the cultivators guarding the entrance to Lotus Piers had bowed deeply to him and called him First Disciple and asked how his trip had been, well… they were in Lotus Piers. What more doubts could there be?

Xue Yang was led by Wei Wuxian to a richly decorated office that gave the impression it had seen both better and worse days. In there, a woman sat at a desk. She was not the most beautiful one that Xue Yang had ever seen, but there was something in her face and countenance that drew the eye again and again. Then she raised her head and smiled at Wei Wuxian and… maybe she was among the most beautiful people Xue Yang had met, in the end.

“A-Xian, you’re finally back!” She welcomed her husband. “I was almost starting to worry.” Sect Leader Jiang then looked at Xue Yang, and her smile grew warmer still. “You must be Xue Yang. I am so glad you decided to join us.”

“Didn’t decide!” Xue Yang quickly protested, before pointing a finger at her husband. “He forced me!”

The woman’s smile froze, and she turned her eyes to Wei Wuxian who looked away.

“A-Xian, did you really?”

“He’s just the sort to complain,” Wei Wuxian assured his wife. “He wanted to come.”

“You tied me!” Xue Yang protested. “I tried to leave and you didn’t let me!”

Sect Leader Jiang’s expression hardened, which Xue Yang thought suited her less than the earlier smiles. She looked a little scary like that.

“I thought we had agreed we would only take him in if he was willing,” she said, her husband flinching as if she’d been shouting at him. When she turned to Xue Yang again, her expression softened. “I am sorry. It was not supposed to happen this way. If you truly do not wish to stay with us, I will make arrangements so you are compensated for the inconvenience and can go home.”

The way she said it and the shocked look Wei Wuxian threw her… Xue Yang felt that the offer might be sincere. It wouldn’t be a bad deal, he’d have gotten to sight-see a bit and he’d get money, and…

“Of course, if you do choose to say, I would be delighted,” Sect Leader Jiang told him with the most gentle smile Xue Yang had ever seen directed at him. “We have heard you have great potential, and we would be happy to help you unfold it. Our sect… we welcome people of all backgrounds, as long as they are people who will do their best to surpass themselves. We believe in attempting the impossible, how about you?”

Xue Yang hesitated, his eyes hopping between that too kind woman looking at him as if she would sincerely be disappointed should he refuse, and her husband who seemed more guarded but equally expectant. What the hell had that slimy Nie guy said about him to make them want him as a disciple so badly? Honestly, it was a little creepy. He should take the money and go home, because cultivators were a bunch of assholes that only brought problems. His crippled hand was proof of that, wasn’t it? It was all pretty promises and backstabbing.

At the same time… Sect Leader Jiang didn’t look like a liar. And that Wei Wuxian was a weirdo who couldn’t cook for shit and had an awful humour, but he hadn’t been unkind during the whole trip, even when Xue Yang had done his best to be annoying… and he was damn good at being annoying.

“I guess… I can give it a try?” Xue Yang conceded after a moment of reflection. “I mean, if it matters this much to you folks, why not.”

Sect Leader Jiang beamed at his words, and Xue Yang felt a little comforted in that choice.

Beside, if it didn’t work out, he’d just take off with everything he could carry and make a profit from their weird cultivator shit.

Chapter Text

The first sign of trouble was a letter requesting his urgent return to the Unclean Realm. Mingjue was usually happy to let him roam the country freely, since there was little to do at home that others couldn't do better than Huaisang. So when the letter reached him, Huaisang assumed that it had to be about the one thing that only he could do for his brother: give him an heir.

It was something they had discussed before. Huaisang had offered to get married to a woman of Mingjue's choosing, and have a child for him. His brother had been conflicted at the proposition, but relieved too. Just like Huaisang, he remembered how their father's second marriage, however short, had ruined their childhoods and turned Madam Nie into a monster of resentment.

Huaisang had struggled to fake enthusiasm for what he was offering, but Mingjue had been so eager to accept that his weak performance had sufficed. All that remained was to find a woman of good background who would not mind a cold marriage, nor seeing her child raised by others. And judging by that letter calling him back, Mingjue might have found her. Why else demand Huaisang's return? 

For the entirety of his trip back to Qingge, Huaisang steeled himself for what was to come. He reminded himself that once, in a different life, he would not have minded that arrangement. He had known back then that he would never marry for love. It had only become more of a certainty in this new life. Love was not for him. Even what he felt for Lan Xichen wasn't love. Not exactly. Not for this version of Lan Xichen, anyway, and he would never get his Xichen back because his husband had been rightfully disgusted by his actions and...

Huaisang had sacrificed so much for Mingjue and Lan Xichen. What would a little more change?

The second sign of trouble was something that broke his heart when Huaisang thought there was nothing left to break.

A white figure, waiting for him at the gates of the Unclean Realm.

He had sent word ahead of the day he expected to arrive, of course. He usually did. Some habits he had never managed to shake off, even when they'd become useless. Nobody ever came to welcome him. And yet that day, Lan Xichen was at the gate and Huaisang was glad he spotted him from far away, because the sight made him cry.

Not a lot, and not for long, but a few tears escaped him at that reminder of everything he used to have.

By the time he reached his brother-in-law, Huaisang's composure was perfect again. His eyes were a little red, but if asked he was ready to blame it on the dusty road.

His Xichen would have asked for sure.

This Lan Xichen did not. He gave no sign that he even noticed that redness. His posture was stiff, even by Gusu Lan standards, and his face so cold and inexpressive that he looked more like Lan Wangji than ever.

"Your brother wants you to come see him right away," Lan Xichen announced. 

Even his voice was distant.

This, Huaisang realised later, was the third sign of trouble.

"I really should go change first," Huaisang protested lightly. Lan Xichen's attitude was a little off, but he was mostly curious about whatever was so urgent. "I kind of stink right now."

Not that he expected Lan Xichen to sympathise. Lan cultivators never seemed bothered by something as lowly as heat and sweat, and remained pristine at all times. 

"We'll bear with it," Lan Xichen replied shortly. "Come." 

"We? It's a family meeting then?" Huaisang asked, trying to laugh it off in spite of the sense of wrongness mounting in his guts. 

Even the disciples guarding the gate were avoiding to look at him. He'd never become close to them, not in this life, but usually they treated him a little more warmly than that and asked for gossip. 

"What's going on?" Huaisang asked, following his brother-in-law through the courtyard and toward the main building. 

"Mingjue will explain better than me," Lan Xichen just said. 

At some other time, Huaisang might have laughed. Mingjue was many things, but he wasn't great at talking. Shouting, yes, maybe, but talking... And yet Huaisang didn't feel like pointing that out. Something had to be very wrong for Lan Xichen to be so angry.

Lan Xichen's cold anger was nothing compared to the burning fury in Mingjue's eyes when Huaisang entered his brother's office. In this life, his brother had never looked at him that way, but he had never forgotten the bouts of rages the other Mingjue had gone through toward the end. He'd born more or less the same expression when he had set fire to Huaisang's fans and paintings.

"How much do you know about poisons?" Mingjue barked, while Lan Xichen closed the door behind them.

Huaisang noted that his brother-in-law was staying right in front of that same door, rather than to go at his husband's side. Making sure he could not escape.

"Hello to you also, brother," Huaisang said as cheerfully as he could manage. "I've been gone almost a year and you welcome me with a face like that? I'm hurt, I'm wounded, I'm..."

"Answer the question," Mingjue growled.

"Fine, fine," Huaisang chuckled. "Poison, eh... I mean, about as much as the next person, right? If you have a specific question, I think we have a book or two in the library that could help more than me."

Mingjue's eyes narrowed, and his fists clenched where they laid on the desk.

"What about what's in your private library? If I go to look there, aside from your collection of vulgar prints, what will I find?"

"Nothing," Huaisang replied with absolute assurance.

The answer only served to further anger his brother who bent down to grab something at his feet. A cold sweat broke all over Huaisang's body. He looked away quickly, refusing to see the items his brother threw onto his desk.

He didn't need to see them to know what they were.

Why , though ? He'd hidden them well, and Mingjue never went into his room anyway.

"Explain," Mingjue ordered.

Huaisang pinched his lips, desperately looking for a convincing story. He'd just been caught lying, when he knew how much Mingjue hated it. Not only that, but he'd been caught lying about such a thing... If Mingjue had found the books about poisons, then he would have easily found the other things too. Descriptions of curses and rituals and all the arsenal he had accumulated in case he needed to eliminate more threats to his brother's safety. He had even written down the ritual that had given him this second chance, and if Mingjue had found that, he would absolutely have recognised his handwriting.

To make it short, things were not looking good.

"Brother, it's a little rude to go through my things this way," he complained meekly. "You know I like my privacy."

"Explain," Mingjue repeated, sounding on the verge of losing his patience.

"What's there to explain? It's stuff I found while travelling. I couldn't leave it behind, but I knew you might want to destroy it since some of it is a little dangerous. Only, to cure a wound you must know what caused it, right? So I kept them, in case."

"So you've never used those?" Lan Xichen asked from behind him, his voice as icy as a blizzard.

Huaisang, pointedly, did not turn to look at him. Mingjue's anger was a terrifying sight, but he'd rather face that than whatever he'd see on Lan Xichen's face.

"Why would I?" Huaisang scoffed. "What enemies do I have upon whom I could inflict such horrors?"

"Jin Guangshan," Mingjue replied.

The laugh that Huaisang forced out of his throat was nothing but awkward. It took all of his willpower not to check how well guarded the door was, but he couldn't stop his eyes from darting toward the window. No, he wouldn't make that either, Mingjue was in the way.

It had been a fucking decade since Jin Guangshan's death, he'd thought he was safe at this point.

"Brother, Mingjue, what are you even trying to say here? His Excellency's death... Wasn't that an accident? A beast killed him and his retinue or... or was it a demon? Anyway, it was a creature of some sort, I remember that much."

"The creature was never found," Lan Xichen said grimly behind them. "And with Jin Guangshan's body more than half devoured, nobody thought to check if the death could have been something else, did they?"

That question, Huaisang realised, was not directed at him. Mingjue, looking more furious by the second, turned to a corner of his office.

Huaisang had always hated this room. It was too big, too shadowy and full of places for someone to hide and spy. He knew that because he'd done it often as a child. Normally he never came in without checking that nobody was listening in from the shadows, but not this time. He'd been too distracted by the sight of Mingjue's rage.

It was a shock to see someone step into the light, but for it to be that specific person...

"Jin Guangyao," Huaisang called with a calm he did not quite feel. "What a surprise. Am I to understand that you suspect foul play in your father's death? How awful!"

Jin Guangyao did not smile the way he would have in another life. As Jin Zixuan's right hand man, he had learned that he did not always need to be pleasant and mild to be accepted.

As he stared at Huaisang, he certainly was neither of these things.

"I have always been suspicious," Jin Guangyao announced. "It only took me a while to find out who could have found advantage in doing this." He paused, and smiled, almost warmly. "My apologies, that is inexact. Out of all the people who profited from Sect Leader Jin's death, I had to find who would actually take that risk, and who would be clever enough to orchestrate something so dramatic. I seem to recall, Huaisang, you always disliked my father, didn't you?"

"As would anyone with two ounces of good sense and moral," Huaisang pointed out, making himself shiver. "Surely... A-Yao, surely you wouldn't think that I could..."

"You weren't home when Jin Guangshan died," Mingjue said, making Huaisang jump in surprise. He'd almost forgotten Jin Guangyao and him were not alone.

His brother was angry, but not particularly shocked by the veiled accusations. So this wasn't new to him, neither the concept of a plot against Jin Guanghan nor the idea that Huaisang could be linked to it.

He really should have killed Jin Guangyao too.

"I wasn't home when a lot of people died!" Huaisang cried out. "I just travel a lot. Am I going to be blamed for those too? I wouldn't... What would I even gain by doing this?"

"Nothing," Jin Guangyao agreed. "But Sect Leader Jin and your brother did not often see eye to eye, did they?"

"So what?" Huaisang exclaimed, easily shedding a few tears. "I'm... You think I'd kill someone like that? My friend's father? A-Yao... Ah, Mingjue! Mingjue, tell him! You know I'd never do that?"

"Do I?" his brother growled. "The war changed you."

Huaisang stared at his brother, so shocked by the hatred in his voice that his mask dropped. He'd heard Mingjue used that tone before, in this life and in another, but never directed at him. To hear Mingjue speak that way and see Jin Guangyao stand at his side, his face twisted in righteous anger...

"Are you trusting him more than you trust me?" Huaisang hissed. "After what he did during the war?"

"He atoned for it," Lan Xichen said somewhere behind.

Only because I made sure he could! Huaisang thought.

"So you are all three against me," he said instead, the realisation so bitter he almost gagged. "You all three think I'm that sort of a person. At least now I know this. But to make such accusations, I hope you have proof? Or does it all rest on my personality and the fact all three of you hate me?"

Jin Guangyao's face hardened, but he saw pain flash on Mingjue's features. It was a comfort of sorts. Even the clever words of Jin Guangyao could not destroy the bond between them.

He had lost everything, but he still had his brother.

"I don't have proof, not exactly," Jin Guangyao conceded. "But the circumstantial evidence is... alarming. Brothers, if you allow me..."

Mingjue gestured for Jin Guangyao to go on, his eyes never leaving Huaisang.

What followed was nearly an hour of Jin Guangyao explaining in great detail how he had become suspicious over his father's death, and the investigation that followed. How he had discovered the traces of poison on the corpse, how he had figured the identity of the beast used to mask the crime. He had been thorough and methodical and so much more efficient than Huaisang had managed to be when he had been the one following leads. But of course, it helped that Jin Guangyao had not been alone in this. As soon as he had been sure his father was murdered, he had shared his suspicions with his sworn brothers who had set out to help him figure the truth. 

The only reason they had not suspected Huaisang earlier was because in appearance, he had little to gain from the death of Jin Guangshan. Even at this point, the three men struggled to understand what might have pushed him to such extremes.

"So what you have," Huaisang concluded when Jin Guangyao was done exposing his crimes and methods, "is a lot of conjectures, some books that you found among my possessions, and a clear disdain for my person. Without even a motive, your theory is quite flimsy, A-Yao, and I'm more than a little hurt that my brother would consider it valid." 

"You are right," Jin Guangyao conceded, and there was that mild smile, the one Huaisang had learned to hate so much. "I do not have firm proof. But you must admit it is odd how so many details point in your direction. And, of course, the fact that you cannot seem to say where you were when this happened…" 

"Am I to remember everything that I do, even after ten years? As I've said before, I travel a lot." 

"But at the time you did not," Lan Xichen said, still standing guard near the door. "And your memory is usually excellent. I've heard you recall entire conversations years after they happened." 

Huaisang ignored him, as he had ignored every previous intervention. Of all times for Lan Xichen to show he had been paying attention… 

Still sitting at his desk, Mingjue sighed. His anger had given way to some emotion Huaisang had never seen from him before. 

It might have been defeat. 

"You're right that A-Yao's case is not strong enough," Mingjue said, "or we would have brought it to his Excellency Lan Qiren to give judgement. If I asked you to swear you didn't do this, could I trust you?" 

"Even if you did, A-Yao wouldn't. Clearly he has it for me. After all the friendship I extended to him, too…" 

"I was the one to first suggest your role," Lan Xichen calmly protested. "Do not blame A-Yao." 

The words pierced Huaisang to his core. He turned around and finally faced his brother-in-law, to find him glaring with the same fierceness he had showed in that Guanyin temple when Jin Guangyao had admitted to his crimes.

The difference was that Huaisang had not confessed to anything. It was only his word against Jin Guangyao’s, yet the winner was clear. 

There was a twisted satisfaction in discovering this. It confirmed what Huaisang had always feared during their marriage: that faced with a choice between them, Lan Xichen would always pick Jin Guangyao. 

"Brother Xichen, I did not realise you hated me so much," Huaisang sneered. "To accuse me of such a thing, what a low opinion of me you must have had all along." 

"I had the highest opinion of you, once," Lan Xichen calmly countered. "But we both know there is nothing you wouldn't do for Mingjue." 

The words startled Mingjue, but Huaisang did not turn to look at him. He understood his brother's rage better if the other two had made him realise that Huaisang would go to those lengths for him. Perhaps he shouldn't have offered to have children and let Mingjue raise them. To him it had been natural to give anything and everything his brother could want, but he wondered if his insistence had led Lan Xichen to become suspicious. A man who could give away his own flesh and blood, what wouldn't he do? 

In this life too, Lan Xichen turned out to be the person who understood him best. 

"So you have all made up your minds," Huaisang noted bitterly, turning to face his brother again. "With or without proof, I am guilty. What happens now? You know as well as I do that this probably won't be enough for a trial. And even if I were tried, what would it accomplish? A feud between Lanling Jin and Qingge Nie? We're still recovering from our last war, this seems unwise."

The air of defeat on Mingjue's features only grew stronger at those words. Huaisang wondered if his brother would have preferred for him to protest his innocence, or say he had been forced to do those things. But Jin Guangyao had tried that in another life, so Huaisang knew already that appealing to his brother's trust and mercy would yield no result. 

"I'm banishing you from the Unclean Realm," Mingjue announced, glancing behind Huaisang, toward Lan Xichen. His husband must have given some sign of encouragement. Mingjue took a deep breath, and pushed away any lingering hesitation. "Officially you'll still be part of Qingge Nie, because to expel you would bring too many questions. We'll also make arrangements so you get money when you need it. But if you ever dare come back here, I will have you treated as an intruder and eliminated. Am I clear?"

Fighting back tears (he wouldn't give Jin Guangyao the satisfaction of seeing him cry, not in this life) Huaisang smiled amicably. 

"Am I supposed to be thankful I get such a light punishment for a crime that cannot be proven?" he sneered. "Fine. Thank you, brother. As your mother used to say, you are always too kind when I misbehave." 

His brother looked struck. Huaisang regretted his words. The enemy here was Jin Guangyao, as it had always been, so to be this cruel to his brother was… 

"A-Huan, A-Yao, out," Mingjue growled. "Now. Huaisang, stay." 

Jin Gyangyao shot a glance at Lan Xichen. Behind Huaisang, the door opened, and the two men quickly exited. Huaisang did not spare a look for them, all his attention on his brother. When the door closed again, Mingjue rose from his seat and came to stand in front of his brother, his expression unreadable. 

"Why did you do it?" he asked. 

"I've done nothing." 

"I will break every bone in your body if you don't stop lying this instant." 

Mingjue's tone was calm, almost nonchalant. Huaisang shivered. His brother's anger rarely scared him anymore, but this… 

"I've done what needed to be done. Jin Guangshan was a threat to everyone. The Wens were gone, the Lans and Jiangs were broken, you were the only thing standing between him and domination of the cultivation world."

"He wouldn't have dared attack me." 

Huaisang laughed at his brother's assurance. It was more nerves than anything else, but he could not contain it. 

"You don't know what people like him will do for what they want, Mingjue." 

"But you do." 

The pain and disappointment in Mingjue's eyes was nearly unbearable. Huaisang had to look away. He'd spend a dozen years hoping this moment would never come, but Jin Guangyao had ruined everything. Some things could not be changed. 

"I should have protected you better from mother," Mingjue sighed. "I should not have let her turn you into this." 

Again Huaisang found himself laughing, if only so he wouldn't cry. 

"Ah, Mingjue, brother… Don't blame yourself for this, please. I think if anything, Mother was right about me from the start. I'm rotten and I spoil everything I touch. Maybe it's best after all that I must leave. I would have dragged you down, in the end." 

Mingjue raised one hand. Huaisang closed his eyes, ready to take the blow he had more than earned. 

Instead his brother grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close, wrapping his other arm around Huaisang's shoulder and hugging him tight. 

"You were not always like that," Mingjue insisted, sounding as if he was crying. "We were not always like that. We used to be brothers. We used to trust each other. What happened?" 

"There are things that can't be avoided," Huaisang whispered, clenching his fists. He wanted to return the hug, it had been so long since anyone had held him close. He did not. Perhaps if he made himself monstrous enough, Mingjue would forgive himself more easily for the way things had become. "It must have been written that you and I cannot be at each other's side, that I'll never be the brother you deserve." 

"But you were the brother I wanted," Mingjue said, tightening his grip.

Huaisang laughed, and cried, and still refused to hug his brother back.

What the two of them had wanted and what they had actually gotten had always been wildly different things.

Still, he hoped Mingjue would manage to still be happy in spite of what he now knew, or else it would all have been for nothing.

Chapter Text

When Xue Yang hurt a fellow disciple for the first time, he expected to be kicked out of the Jiang Sect. It had been a stupid fight gone wrong, as they tended to do when Xue Yang felt insulted and had access to sharp objects. The sword wasn’t even his, because at that point, Master Wei did not trust him yet to use anything but a wooden training sword. But that other kid had a sword, which Xue Yang had quickly snatched from him, stabbing him in the ribs.

It was pure instinct. Living in the streets, Xue Yang had learned to establish quickly that he was not to be messed with. The kid, one of the oldest juniors in the sect, had been trying to show he was the boss, so of course Xue Yang had taken him on it.

Moments later Master Wei came running into the training ground. He did not spare a single look for Xue Yang, all of his attention on the bleeding teenager whom he picked up and rushed to the sect’s healer, but…

But that wouldn’t last. Soon enough, Master Wei would know his disciple was fine, and he’d come for Xue Yang, and…

He would have barely lasted a fucking month in Lotus Piers.

Xue Yang did not wait for Master Wei to return and administer whatever that bastard would deem to be just punishment. He dashed from the courtyard, bloodied sword still in hand. He had been given a new set of robes that he needed to take with him, and he’d have to be stupid to run away without stealing a few trinkets. He would need the money until he was well out of Yunmeng Jiang territory and could safely stop running.

That was how Sect Leader Jiang found him going through the other disciples’ stuff in their dorm, knowing well that some of them owned more jade pendants and pretty trinkets than anyone really needed. She stared him down, her expression unreadable without her usual gentle smile.

She knelt down next to him, watching his hand tighten on the sword. 

"You are smarter than this," she said, before turning her gaze to his pile of stolen trinkets. "Smarter than that, too." 

She was right about the first part. Xue Yang knew if he hurt her in any way, Wei Wuxian would follow him to the end of the world to make him pay. As for the second… 

"I'm not going back to the streets without something."

Sect Leader Jiang nodded. 

"I suppose that would be unwise. Those are not yours though, so I cannot let you take them. Put them back. Then, if you really want to leave our sect, I will make sure you do not go empty-handed. It is what I promised when you agreed to stay." 

"I'm not wanting to leave!" Xue Yang protested. "You're going to kick me out!" 

"Did master Wei say this?" 

"He didn't have to, I killed someone!"

"Not quite, thankfully . Did you want to kill him?" 

Xue Yang hesitated before shaking his head. He'd been angry, but he hadn't expected the other boy to defend his sword so badly, or for him to not avoid the blow a little better. What was the point of all those years of cultivation if he couldn't even avoid a little stabbing? 

Sect Leader Jiang relaxed a little at his answer. 

"Accidents happen. A-Wang knows that you have come to us from a… difficult situation and should not have antagonised you so much. You also should not have attacked him, of course. So if you choose to stay, we will have to think of ways to make sure this does not happen again."

"You mean it's up to me if I stay or not?" Xue Yang asked, eyeing her suspiciously. "That's stupid. Why would you want to keep me here?" 

Sect Leader Jiang tilted her head and gave him a small, tired smile. 

"Xue Yang, do you know why we took you in?" 

"Because that slimy bastard…" 

She frowned at him. 

"Sorry. Because Master Nie said I had potential?" 

"He did. He also told us what potential exactly, and asked us never to tell you. He is a man who believes in secrets. I don't. Do you want to know what he said about you?" 

Xue Yang nodded. He had been curious about that from the start. What could have convinced people like Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli to take in a street rat that lived so far outside their domain? 

"Nie Huaisang told us that you had a solid base for cultivation and would catch up to other disciples your age in a matter of months at most. He told us you were clever and resourceful… But also, and these are his words, he thought you were vicious and naturally cruel, that you were a born liar and a thief who would take violence as the answer to all his problems. He warned us that if we took you in, we would probably have to keep a close eye on you for the rest of your life."

"Well he wasn't wrong," Xue Yang grumbled, looking at the bloodied sword in one of his hands and the stolen jade amulet in the other one. 

"He was not right either. This was not the first time A-Wang taunted you. I know because other disciples have complained on your behalf… and because I know A-Wang. I've seen him start fights with Gusu Lan disciples. If they can't stay calm around him, how could you?"

That was a lot to take in. Xue Yang hated that he'd been perceived as so weak that the other juniors had gone to their Sect Leader to voice their concern. He was used to dealing with his problems on his own. Which, as Nie Huaisang had astutely noted, meant he often had to resort to violence but… It worked, didn't it? 

He was also used to people blaming him whenever he had a problem with someone, no matter who dealt the first blow. With his reputation and his personality, of course he had to be the one starting everything. To hear someone say otherwise was… distressing.

"If you stay with us, I'll make sure that A-Wang does not bother you as much. You will be punished, but so will he once he recovers."

"What sort of punishment?" Xue Yang asked, steeling himself for the worst. 

He could handle pain far better than anyone he knew, but cultivators could be vicious about that sort of thing. But Sect Leader Jiang just smiled with something almost mischievous at the corner of her lips. She looked younger like that, and almost pretty. 

"Have you ever worked in a kitchen, A-Yang?" 

"Twice, but they fired me for stealing food." 

Sect Leader Jiang's smile froze for a moment. 

"Oh. Well, I hope there will be no need for stealing here. If you are hungry, you can ask. You know that, don’t you?" 

Xue Yang nodded. Yunmeng Jiang was struggling a bit, everyone knew it, but not so much that anyone ever went hungry. There wasn't a lot of meat, but it was still more than Xue Yang usually managed to get before. And while he had too much pride for that, he'd seen other kids ask for seconds and get them. 

"Good," Sect Leader Jiang said, her smile returning. "You will be helping in the kitchen until A-Yang is fully recovered, every time you’re not training with the others. I will also expect you to make apologies to him in time, when things have calmed down a little. How does that sound?" 

It sounded pretty stupid, Xue Yang thought, but he wasn't going to say that. A few weeks of peeling vegetables for almost killing someone? That was a pretty light punishment. Most likely, there would be other stuff coming later, sneaky ways to show they didn’t trust him anymore. Supposing they’d ever trusted him in the first place. Still, it was a relief of sorts that he was allowed to stay. Sect Leader Jiang was too nice to everyone, her husband was an absolute asshole, and most of the other disciples were complete weirdos but… He kind of liked it there. The food was nice, there were no rats running over him in his sleep, and he didn’t have to change hideouts every few days to escape whoever he had pissed off this time.

It was probably the best life he had ever had.

The best life he would ever have.

He just needed to not fuck it up again.

“I can apologise to him right now,” Xue Yang offered.

“He would be in no state to believe you, and you would be insincere,” Sect Leader Jiang replied calmly. “No, what you will do right now is give me that sword, and put everything you took back in place. Then we are going to the kitchen, and we will see what the cook can make of you.”

To his own surprise, Xue Yang quickly obeyed. It was some power that this woman had, he figured. If you disappointed her she looked sad and resigned, and it was absolutely awful so even Xue Yang felt compelled to not disappoint her. Some days he hated that she could do that. Most of the time he didn’t really mind though, and perhaps that was even worse. She was just some frail, not really pretty woman, she had no right to have that sort of power over anyone.

And yet when he was done returning all his stolen trinkets, Xue Yang found himself diligently following her. 

“Why are you keeping me after this?” he asked after a while. “I’m just like that Nie man said. It’d be simpler to get rid of me…”

Sect Leader Jiang stopped on her tracks, and gave him a very serious look.

“Having you here is not easy,” she admitted. “But I am used to things being difficult. I am a woman at the head of a cultivation sect, refusing to let my husband rule for me, after all. That is because I am a Jiang. You know our motto, don’t you?”

“Attempt the impossible?”

The young woman smiled, a little sadly, and nodded.

“Perhaps someday you’ll decide you do not want to stay here,” she said. “Then we will let you go. But until then… my disciples are my family, and I have never been one to turn my back on family. I will not start with you, Xue Yang.”

That was the most stupid thing Xue Yang had ever heard, and he very badly wanted to say so. He didn’t, though.

He couldn’t remember anyone else ever wanting to claim him as family before, and he wasn’t stupid enough to ruin this any further than he already had.

Chapter Text

Gasping for breath, Nie Huaisang tried to sit up, tried to open his eyes, tried to regain any sort of control over his body, in vain. Every part of him felt heavy, so heavy.

The sound of a nearby guqin attracted his attention. Anger flashed through him as he recognised the melody, making it harder yet to breathe. They had agreed not to play Cleansing, never Cleansing, how dare…

But the song was played right this time, carefully infused with spiritual energy. It was amazingly efficient, even when Nie Huaisang was trying so hard to reject it. When the last note rang into the air, he could breathe again, could open his eyes even.

Although he remembered sitting when they started this, Nie Huaisang had collapsed at some point during his experiment. His gaze now fell on the too familiar ceiling of the Jingshi. Another failed attempt. He had been so sure this technique would work…

Near him, he heard fabric rustling, and soon enough Lan Wangji was hovering above him, watching down at him with a more concerned expression than Nie Huaisang had grown to expect from him. He did not resist when the other man, after kneeling down at his side, took his wrist to check on him.

“I think I almost got it this time,” Nie Huaisang said, only to be surprised how difficult it was to even speak.

“You’re stopping this,” Lan Wangji replied. “It has gone too far.”

“I’m too close to give up.”

“Hm.”

Funny how Lan Wangji could put so much judgment and anger in that sound. Of course, the whole process must have been harder on him than it was on Nie Huaisang. And this Qi deviation must have been impressive to witness, or Lan Wangji would not have resorted to Cleansing. 

“Did the drug have any effect at all?” Nie Huaisang asked. “Did it do anything before you intervened?”

Rather than to answer, Lan Wangji did something to Nie Huaisang’s spiritual energies, rerouting them to their normal paths. It said it as plainly as words would: the drug did not do its job, not even a little. He was back to zero. Another drug perhaps… he had bought some translation of Western books from the Roof of the World, and he was really hoping foreign wisdom might solve his problem. It would have to. Nothing local seemed to really work.

“There are better ways to earn your brother’s forgiveness,” Lan Wangji stated when he deemed Nie Huaisang stable enough.

“That’s not why I’m doing this.”

“Hm. There’s better ways to earn my brother’s forgiveness.”

Nie Huaisang flinched under that attack, and glared at Lan Wangji. The other man stared at him, quietly challenging him to deny the accusation.

“I’m not doing this for your brother either,” Nie Huaisang lied. “I don’t care about forgiveness! I don’t need forgiveness. I’ve done what I’ve done and I don’t regret any of it.”

Certainly not the murder of Jin Guangshan, which was the only thing anyone would think of accusing him of. Lan Wangji knew about that. Nie Huaisang had gotten drunk once after a Night Hunt with him, he had said too much when Lan Wangji had quietly enquired why he was never going to Qinghe anymore.

Nie Huaisang hadn’t touched a single drop of alcohol since then. The murder of Jin Guangshan was the least awful thing he could have spoken about, the only thing that Lan Wangji could have tolerated.

He still had nightmares about Jiang Cheng.

About Lan Sizhui too, who must have died so young. About Jin Ling, never born.

About the war, the people he’d killed there.

About the way his brother had died in another life, nearly taking his life as well.

The Qi deviations he induced in himself made that worse. They brought on hallucinations, which his mind then revisited in dreams.

Nie Huaisang hadn’t slept well in the two years since he’d started his experiment. A small price to pay. If he could find a way to fully counter the effects of Qinghe Nie’s unique cultivation path, if he could save his brother not from his enemies, but from the danger that lurked at the corner of his own body… And that was why he had gone back in time, wasn’t it? To make sure that this time, no-one and nothing would harm Nie Mingjue. He had succeeded brilliantly in eliminating any human enemies, now there was only this last danger to take care of.

“You take too many risks,” Lan Wangji scolded.

“I have this under control,” Nie Huaisang retorted. With some effort, he managed to finally sit up. His head was spinning, but that wasn’t so unusual after such an episode. “I’m only having those Qi deviations because I’m provoking them. If I stop, they stop.”

A bold claim to make, but Lan Wangji did not know about the true power of that song from the Collection of Turmoil. He hadn’t seen its effects on Nie Mingjue.

Lan Wangji did not need to know.

Nie Huaisang really had this under control.

“I should not help any further,” Lan Wangji said, with near imperceptible doubt in his voice.

“Then don’t. I can do this on my own. I’ve made my choice already.”

“Our brothers would not like this,” Lan Wangji insisted.

Nie Huaisang shrugged. He was starting to feel a little better. With his head clearing up, he was already able to start planning his next move. He’d had such high hopes for that drug, but it did not matter too much that it had failed. Between the various books he had bought during his wandering, the rumours he had gathered, and what he’d discovered when Lan Wangji had allowed him to access the Lans’ secret library… he had plenty more leads to follow.

So who cared what Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen wanted? Nie Huaisang had long ago given up on having their approval, let alone their affection.

It wasn’t about what they wanted.

It was about what they needed.

And Nie Huaisang would provide that from the shadows, as he had for more than a decade now.

It was the only thing he had left.

Chapter Text

Lan Wangji presented a thick, heavy book to his brother-in-law who took it with trembling hands. Notes and additional sheets were sticking out from between the pages, all of them covered in the near illegible script that Nie Huaisang used when writing to himself rather than for others’ sake. He had never intended for that book to be seen by anyone else, but Lan Wangji knew how precious it had been to him and he had made sure to get it back after that disaster in Yi City.

He would have brought it to Qinghe sooner, but someone had needed to stay behind and make sure everyone was compensated for what had happened, that no dark energies were allowed to linger.

“How did it happen?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“Did Xiao Xingchen not tell you?” Lan Wangji replied.

“He’s a poor storyteller. His friend Song Zichen would not give further details. Neither would Xue Chengmei.”

That Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan would have found it difficult to speak of it was unsurprising. They had both gotten along well with Nie Huaisang, who oddly enough had seemed to appreciate them in return. They wanted to have him join their sect, since it was well known that he was part of Qinghe Nie in name only. Nie Huaisang had always refused out of loyalty to his brother, but they still suggested it here and there. Of course the events of Yi City would have scarred them.

As for Xue Yang, his silence in front of Nie Mingjue made sense. Although it was well known that his brother and him had not spoken in years, Nie Mingjue might have demanded justice against the young man forced to deal the killing blow.

“There is little to be said,” Lan Wangji stated. “He had a Qi deviation while we were travelling toward a Night Hunt. It was night. We realised too late. We did our best to help him, but he was too far gone.”

The four of them had not decided that they would not speak in detail about what had happened that night. They had made no promises for secrecy. But now, in front of Nie Mingjue, Lan Wangji understood the others' silence. Even if he had been the loquacious type, he would not have shared too much about what had happened. The things Nie Huaisang had done, and worse still the things he had said…

Nobody needed to know that.

“It makes no sense for him to have had a Qi deviation!” Nie Mingjue exploded. “He was too young! He never got to a high enough level of cultivation for this!”

Lan Wangji thought of Nie Huaisang’s research. Of helping him through more than a dozen carefully monitored Qi deviations in the last few years. Of his suspicions that there must have been other experiments to which he was not privy, especially toward the end.

It was a guilt he carried with him. He could not have stopped Nie Huaisang, he’d realised that too late, but Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen might have. If they had held out a hand toward him, if they had been willing to forgive, if they had just known what was going on…

Lan Wangji thought of Nie Huaisang screaming names into the night. A few were people he knew, people who had died in odd circumstances. Others were foreign to him, and yet sounded like he should have known them. He did not think there had ever been a Lan Sizhui in Gusu in recent years, but he would have to check. The last name could not have been a coincidence, not when Nie Huaisang had shouted it in his direction each time.

Maybe forgiveness would not have been enough to save Nie Huaisang.

“His temper had become troubled,” Lan Wangji explained. “He did not wish for it to become known.”

“You’re not telling us everything, Wangji,” Lan Xichen accused, speaking for the first time since his brother had arrived.

“Some things are better left unspoken.”

There was too much Lan Wangji did not want to explain. Too much of his friendship with Nie Huaisang had sprung from the understanding that they were in love with the wrong people. The other man had trusted him with that knowledge, when he was obviously someone who did not trust anyone. Even after his death, Lan Wangji could not betray that secret. Not just out of respect for Nie Huaisang, but also because Nie Mingjue already carried enough guilt over his brother’s fate without needing to know they had loved the same man.

Lan Wangji hoped that Nie Huaisang had used that book of his for research notes only and not as a journal. He had tried to read it, but the handwriting had been too messy. It might be for the best if nobody else could read it either. What Nie Huaisang had done to himself had been too dangerous, and yielded no results but an early death.

“Which one of you killed him?” Nie Mingjue asked, hands clenched on his brother’s book.

“We tried to save him,” Lan Wangji quietly protested. “He was our friend.”

At least, three of them had seen him as a friend. Xue Yang had inherited Wei Wuxian’s dislike. A dislike that made more sense now. If what Nie Huaisang had shouted about Jiang Cheng was true… hopefully, it wasn’t. It made no sense for it to be true, just as so little of Nie Huaisang’s hallucination had made sense. He had accused Xue Yang of having killed the other two and turned them into fierce corpses, after all. As if the boy could ever have done that to his two closest friends.

Still, for it to be Xue Yang to have dealt the final blow was… less than ideal. Yunmeng Jiang was doing well for itself once more, but it probably could not quite afford the sort of reparations that Nie Mingjue would be within his right to demand.

“I tried to save him,” Lan Wangji corrected, hoping his brother-in-law would mistake that for a confession. If Nie Mingjue pressed for it, Gusu Lan had enough money. But he would not ask for it, not against his husband's brother.

Lan Wangji could do that for Wei Wuxian, could let his reputation take this blow.

He saw Nie Mingjue turn pale, Lan Xichen flinch.

They did not ask again how Nie Huaisang had died, for which Lan Wangji was grateful. He would not have wanted to lie, but he would not have wanted to tell the truth either.

“I’m sorry,” Lan Xichen said quietly. “I know he was your friend. You’ve missed the funeral, but if you want tomorrow I can take you where we buried him.”

“Yes.”

Lan Wangji did not particularly want to see that tomb, not when he still wondered if he could have prevented that massacre in Yi City by refusing to enable Nie Huaisang’s self experiments. But as his brother said, Nie Huaisang had been his friend, it was only right to pay his respects to him.

Besides, he knew Nie Huaisang would have been happy to finally be allowed to come home, even like this.

Chapter Text

The first few days of hiding in Cloud Recesses had been the worst ones. 

Xichen had been consumed with rage and grief and sheer betrayal over what had happened. He had known that Jin Guangyao was not all that he seemed, events had opened his eyes to that long before Wangji and Wei Wuxian barged in with the mangled body of his first love. But he had never imagined that his friend, his sworn brother, the man he'd trusted above any other, would have fallen so low. 

Huaisang’s own betrayal had been rubbing salt into the wound.

Of course, being manipulated into stabbing Jin Guangyao had been a shock… and there could be no doubts about that manipulation, not once Xichen had had some space to think about it. He knew what his husband was like when he lied. 

And yet, he could have forgiven this.

He could not forgive that Huaisang had never said anything about Mingjue’s death. That he had allowed Xichen to remain friends with the man who had so cruelly murdered the man he loved. That he had never trusted Xichen after all, no matter how much Xichen had tried to convince himself otherwise. Or had Huaisang thought that his husband had been an accomplice in his brother’s death? Xichen had pushed so much for Jin Guangyao to play Cleansing to Mingjue, he’d wanted so badly for his best friend and his lover to get along again. Huaisang would have been excused for suspecting Xichen.

But then, it meant everything between them had been fake. It meant Xichen had never become as good at reading through his husband’s acting as he had believed. All that affection and tenderness, those moments of happiness, the way Huaisang melted at the first sign of gentleness… could he really have pretended about that? And if so, what did it say about Xichen that he had taken all of it at face value, so desperate for closeness that he’d fallen for those lies?

By the end of his first month in seclusion, most of Xichen’s anger had calmed.

It was replaced by guilt.

He had failed Mingjue by trying to force that friendship with Jin Guangyao, by refusing to see the warning signs. Mingjue had told him that Jin Guangyao was dangerous, but he hadn’t listened, hadn’t wanted to judge too harshly someone who was so hardworking, who had risen in spite of difficult origins.

Maybe he had failed Jin Guangyao as well, by not seeing how life in Lanling Jin was changing him. In spite of all evidence, Xichen still believed that his sworn brother had been a good person once. Perhaps all this tragedy could have been avoided in Xichen had just known how to offer help the right way. Jin Guangyao too had suffered from his efforts to maintain the friendship between him and Mingjue. Who knew if he would have turned to murder if they had just been allowed to drift away from each other.

Above all, Xichen feared he had failed Huaisang. They were married. They were cultivation partners. They were friends even, or so he had thought. And yet, Huaisang had never come to him with what he had found out about Jin Guangyao. He had preferred to take revenge alone rather than to share anything with his own husband.

How to blame him, when Xichen had failed to protect those he loved before.

Somewhere near the end of the second month of seclusion, Wangji came home, Wei Wuxian trailing behind him.

Xichen, at first, refused to see him, just as he refused to see anyone. Guilt was harder to wrangle than anger, it ran deeper, it was more insidious.

But when Wangji insisted and returned several days in a row, Xichen gave in. His brother was not one to come knocking on his door without good reason.

Wangji was the same as ever. He sounded worried when he inquired after Xichen’s health, but when his concerns were dismissed, he simply went straight to the reason for his visit.

"I discussed your marriage with uncle,” he explained. “Gusu Lan can afford to repay your dowry, should you wish it." 

Xichen stared at his brother, trying to make sense of what was offered. Then, at last, it hit him. 

He could divorce Huaisang. 

He would never have to see him again. After everything that had happened, it should have felt like a gift, a blessing from the heavens. A kindness to both of them, when their marriage had turned out such a failure. 

Instead the thought was more painful than the betrayal had ever been.

Huaisang was a liar, a manipulator, a murderer, a monster whose crimes were no lesser than Jin Guangyao’s. 

But he was also Xichen's husband. He was a man who had opened up to Xichen over the years, letting him see parts of him that no one must have seen since his brother's death. They had laughed together, run their sect together, been happy together. Xichen refused to believe it had all been faked. Nobody could have been acting so perfectly, so consistently. Something had been real 

And whatever his crimes, at least Nie Huaisang had never committed them for personal gain, but only to avenge a brother he adored. The means had been questionable, but the intentions were honourable.

Besides, even though he had never known how far they ran, Xichen had long known there were deep shadows within the man he loved. 

And he still loved Huaisang. 

That thought shocked him, just as he had been shocked when he had first realised he felt that way. 

Even after everything, he still loved that odd little man he was married to. 

Even after everything, he did not want to lose him.

Xichen looked at his brother, and smiled in the polite, controlled way he had learned to do in unpleasant situations.

“I am very grateful that you would offer this,” he told Wangji. “But that will not be necessary. I need time alone at the moment, but unless he asks for it, I have no intention of separating from my husband.”

“Hm. He hasn’t asked.”

That lifted a weight from Xichen’s shoulders, freeing him from a tension he had not realised he was holding. After everything that had been revealed, Huaisang could easily have asked for a divorce as well. Nobody in the cultivation world would have blamed him for rejecting a husband who had been so close to his brother’s murderer. If Huaisang hadn’t asked for it, there might still be hope.

Xichen knew some of their relationship had to have been genuine.

Feeling a little lighter, his smile turned more sincere.

“I hear you’re married as well now?” he asked his brother. “Eloping, at your age… that’s not very serious, Wangji.”

Wangji smiled, unapologetic. He looked happier than his brother had ever seen him, and Xichen felt another weight leave his body. Even if Huaisang and him did not manage to reconcile, some good would have come from this disaster.

A little after the four months mark, Xichen felt ready to face the world once more. The guilt had not fully eased out, and the anger still returned sometimes, but he was growing too restless to stay in Gusu.

He thanked his uncle and brother for letting him stay this long, for respecting his need for isolation.

Then, at last, he left for Qinghe.

He left for home.

It was oddly pleasant to fly to the gates of the Unclean Realm at sunset and greet the guards. They all seemed very happy to see him again. Xichen realised the opposite was just as true. After ten years there, Qinghe Nie had become his sect, even if something of Gusu Lan stuck to him. 

This really was home. 

"Our Sect Leader will be glad you're back," one of the men said. "He's been moping around like a lost soul since he returned with…" 

The other guard elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Xichen pretended not to notice. 

"My husband can be a little dramatic," he agreed, feeling both guilty and pleased that Nie Huaisang might have missed him. "I hope he has not neglected his duties too much, or I'll have to scold him. Do you know where I might find him?" 

He expected to be directed to the gardens or the aviary, unless Huaisang had gone for a trip. Xichen would not mind waiting a little. 

"He's in his room," the first guard explained, glancing at his comrade who shrugged. "He's been there since early afternoon. He gave orders not to bother him for a few days, even if guests came, but… Master Lan, I don't think that applies to you." 

"Yes, go ahead and knock some sense into him," the other agreed. "He's been moody lately, it will be good for him that you're back." 

Lan Xichen thanked them for the information, and crossed the gate. It worried him a little that Huaisang would decide to isolate that way. Even though his cultivation had improved over the duration of their marriage, he did not think Huaisang had ever made efforts to practice inedia so far. Hopefully he was not pushing himself too hard. 

In spite of the guards’ hints that Huaisang appeared to have missed him, Xichen felt a growing tension seize him as he walked toward his husband’s room. Anxiety, he guessed. He hoped that Huaisang would want to see him again, that the guards were not mistaken, that he had made the right choice in coming home. Even if they could not reconcile, at least they should talk, there was so much they had never told each other. They needed to talk. They would talk. Xichen would not leave Qinghe until things were finally clear between them. He would…

It was only when he arrived at the door of Huaisang’s bedroom that Xichen realised the odd feeling he’d had since stepping inside that building might not have been nerves alone.

He could feel intense resentful energies coming from that room, strong enough to nearly gag him. Whatever was going on was so powerful that it should have been noticed by passing disciples and servants… but nobody ever came near Huaisang’s bedroom without his permission, and if he had specifically requested to be left alone…

Overcome with fear, Lan Xichen hurried to open the door.

The stench of blood hit him immediately. No surprise there. Several animals laid on the ground, some of them still twitching and agonising.

Xichen barely noticed them.

His full attention was on a pale shape on the floor, surrounded by words hastily scribbled in blood.

A naked man, his wrists and throat slashed open.

Xichen shouted as he ran toward Huaisang, falling to his knees in the pool of blood and pulling the body in his arms. It was still somewhat warm, but growing colder with each passing second.

“What have you done?” Xichen cried, holding his husband close. “A-Sang, I was coming home!”

Xichen could feel no heartbeat, not breath, but still tried to regain enough control of himself that he could share his energy with Huaisang in a desperate attempt to save him.

“I was coming home,” he sobbed. “I was coming home.”

The body in his arm did not react.

Xichen cried harder, never letting go, never giving up his attempt to heal his husband.

“I was coming home.”

Chapter Text

The first thing Huaisang became conscious of was his own breathing, as well as a rhythmic sound resonating everywhere around him. His heartbeat, he realised. 

So his Qi deviation hadn’t killed him after all.

He tried to crack an eye open, but that proved above his strength. It seemed the deviation had drained all of his strength. It had been so intense and sudden, it would make sense for it to have some secondary effects. Nie Huaisang was used to this.

He accepted his weakened state, and decided to wait until he felt a little less like he was still dying. It took a while, longer than he might have expected. Still, he felt less and less cold, as if energy was starting to flow again in his body. After an eternity, he finally had the strength to open his eyes.

He would have gasped if he had the strength.

For the first time in years, he was in the Unclean Realm. 

Not only that, but he was in Mingjue’s bedroom, a place he hadn’t entered since… heavens. Probably not since before his brother’s wedding. Had he been brought there? Odd. He couldn’t remember where he had been when the Qi deviation started, but it had been very far from Qinghe. He’d avoided the area like the plague. And wasn’t Lan Wangji with him? That sentimental fool, he should have known better than to bring him to their brothers’ sect for recovery.

As he looked around a room that had never been his in this life, Huaisang’s eyes fell on a shape near him. A man in white and red, holding one of his bloodied wrists. Someone sharing energy with him, he realised, but that made less sense than the rest. Nobody in the Unclean Realm wore white. Nobody but… and he wouldn’t help him. Not him and not Mingjue, not anymore. They had made that very clear. 

Huaisang turned his head to better look, since in his state of extreme fatigue it was still hard to focus his gaze on anything. Yet there could be no mistake. He would have recognised Lan Xichen anywhere, even if his eyes had been gouged out, his ears sewn shut, his hands cut off. Nobody else had a presence that filled him with such hope and despair.

His movement must have caught Lan Xichen’s attention. His brother-in-law gasped in surprise, and the flow of energy stopped.

“You’re awake,” Lan Xichen cried, bringing Huaisang’s hand to his lips and kissing it. 

His mouth felt burning against Huaisang’s skin. He would have shivered at the intimate gesture, so out of place between them, but he did not even have the strength for that. Instead he stared blankly at his brother’s husband, trying to make sense of things.

Lan Xichen only peppered kisses on his hand and wrist, apparently unaware that he was staining his face with blood, just as his robes were more red than white already.

“I thought you were dead,” Lan Xichen whispered, his voice breaking on the last word, turning into a sob. “I thought I had lost you too.”

Huaisang blinked. He had a billion questions, but his throat was hurting too much to ask any of them.

“Why did you do this, A-Sang? What was it even supposed to accomplish?”

Lan Xichen sounded angry, which was odd. He also hadn’t called his brother-in-law A-Sang in… so many years. Not since long before that confrontation about Jin Guangshan. And why be so accusatory? Huaisang hadn’t chosen to have that Qi deviation, nor could Lan Xichen know about all the other ones he had willingly provoked before. It had been a genuine accident.

Although everything was getting more painful with every passing second, Huaisang opened his mouth to try and protest. A bad decision. Doing so hurt so much he nearly passed out.

“Don’t speak!” Lan Xichen ordered. “You slit your throat, you little… just sleep some more, will you? I’ll take care of you.”

Again, Huaisang wanted to protest. Before he could, he felt a jolt of spiritual energy against his temple, muddling his thoughts until there was only blackness again.

When he opened his eyes next, Huaisang felt less weak than the first time. To balance that out, everything hurt a lot more, in places that he might not have expected. Then again, he’d never had a Qi deviation so strong before. It really was a miracle that it hadn’t killed him. A miracle, or a curse.

Looking around, he saw Lan Xichen was still there, asleep against the side of the bed, his face and clothes still stained with blood although that had long dried. There was something off about his brother-in-law, as if Lan Xichen didn’t quite look the way he was supposed to, but… it had been years since they last saw each other, so perhaps that made sense.

Other things Huaisang could not explain as easily. The way the bedroom was decorated for example. It wasn’t so surprising to see calligraphies and paintings on the walls, Lan Xichen lived there too after all, but it was odd to see no Night Hunt trophies or weapons as well. Nie Mingjue had always been so proud of those. Things were also too well ordered, something that Huaisang knew was not like his brother. They were both messy people. One of the few things they had in common.

As they wandered around, Huaisang’s eyes fell on a beautiful fan hanging near the door. It felt… familiar, in a way that made his stomach twist and his heart beat faster. This fan, he thought, had no right to be there. First of all, because the only reason Mingjue would have a fan in his room was if Huaisang had gifted it to him, and after everything that had happened, he doubted his brother would have kept a present from him. Second of all, if there was nothing of Mingjue in the room, why should there be something of Huaisang? And finally… this fan wasn’t just any fan. He couldn’t explain quite why or how, but there was something about that fan that was wrong.

It was too far to make out what was painted on it, but Huaisang became convinced if he could see it, everything else would make sense.

Easier said than done. Although he was better than the first time he woke up, Huaisang still was in terrible shape. Attempting to sit up failed. When he tried to just turn on his side, pain flashed through his entire body, pulling at the edges of wounds he did not remember getting, perhaps even reopening some of them. It surprised him enough that he could not contain a pained cry, which in turn startled Lan Xichen awake.

“A-Sang? What… Why are you moving?”

Because everything is wrong, Huaisang tried to reply, but he found his throat would not allow it, and attempting to speak only caused more pain.

“You need rest,” Lan Xichen ordered, forcing him to lay on his back once more. “And don’t try to speak, the wound on your throat was…” his voice broke, his hands trembling on Huaisang’s shoulder. “I only needed time! After everything I only needed time! But I was finally coming home, and I found you like this?”

Heavy tears fell from Lan Xichen’s eyes, drawing clean lines on his face where blood had stained his skin. 

This too was wrong.

Home? The Unclean Realm hadn’t been a home for Huaisang since Mingjue had figured out the truth about Jin Guangshan’s death. In fact, if his brother found him there, he would probably finish what his Qi deviation had failed to do and murder him for daring to show his face again. 

It hurt to speak, but Huaisang ignored it so he could ask the question that really mattered the most.

“Where’s Mingjue?”

What little colour remained on Lan Xichen’s face drained away.

“Was this about him? A-Sang, why would you… he can’t be brought back. I asked Wei Wuxian when I was in Cloud Recesses, but it can’t be done, he’s too… his resentment is too strong, and without the Stygian Tiger Seal…”

Ignoring all pain, Huaisang sat up, feeling a sudden nausea that had nothing to do with his earlier Qi deviation.

“Seal?”

“It was destroyed, remember?” Lan Xichen insisted, grabbing Huaisang’s shoulders to push him down against the mattress. He was gentle, as if scared to hurt him, and that too was wrong. “Wei Wuxian checked, A-Yao… Sect Leader Jin did not lie about that, at least.”

The nausea became too strong. Huaisang barely had time to pull himself on his side before he started vomiting.

This was wrong.

Everything was wrong.

The room that bore no trace of Mingjue, but harboured a fan painted by Huaisang.

Jin Guangyao being sect leader.

The Stygian Tiger Seal, which Huaisang had made sure could never exist.

Lan Xichen, kissing his hands and crying for him, who even now was rubbing soothing circles on Huaisang’s back, his voice more tender than Huaisang had heard it since they had last seen each other in another life, at that Guanyin temple.

Even after his stomach was empty, Huaisang’s body still shook with dry hiccups and heavy spasms.

This was wrong, he thought, so exhausted that his eyes closed on their own, feeling cold darkness overcome him.

He did not want to be back in this place. The new life he’d obtained had been awful, yes, but he had been successful at least, he had managed what he had set out to do.

He did not want this other life where Xichen had neither friends nor love, where Mingjue was gone.

Be it by a failure of the ritual or by Qi deviation, death would have been a better fate.

It took weeks for Huaisang’s state to finally stabilise. Between the blood loss, the deep wounds and the dark energies provoked by the ritual, his body had suffered heavily. It was lucky, apparently, that Xichen had arrived when he did, saving his life in the nick of time. 

Lucky indeed. 

If his body was damaged, Huaisang’s mind, of course, was in a worse state. To be back in this life where he had lost so much was a fitting punishment for the things he had done in the other one. And he had done these things, even if he no longer lived in the world where they had happened. 

He had killed Jiang Cheng, when he was young and innocent and broken and so weak he could never have defended himself. He had massacred Jin Guangshan, happy to know that man would never harm anyone else. He had caused such death and destruction without batting an eye and…

Xichen patiently listened to him the first time Huaisang explained all this.

He listened the second time, too. 

And the third. 

And every other time that Huaisang, inhibitions destroyed by the potions that helped him deal with the pain, ranted about what he had done. Xichen never interrupted him, never tried to correct him, and instead stared at him with unbearable pity while holding his hand. 

Huaisang could have hated him for that. It was the sort of forgiving generosity that had led them to this mess with Jin Guangyao, how could Xichen have learned nothing from it?

“I wish I were still there,” he sighed one day, tired and light-headed. “I wasn’t done. I should have tried harder. I was getting there, I know I was getting there. I just needed a little more time.”

“Is it so bad here?” Xichen asked, squeezeing his hand.

He was always touching Huaisang in some fashion when he was there. And he was always there, as if scared of what might happen if he left for even one moment.

“Of course it’s awful here,” Huaisang retorted. “Back there… you had Mingjue. You were happy.”

“I have you now. I am happy.”

Huaisang laughed, then cried.

He had forgotten just how good his Xichen was, how much that wonderful, kind man had started to care about him. He had never deserved that affection before. Now, knowing what sort of a man he truly was, the things he could do if he felt justified, he deserved it less than ever.

“I’m not my brother.”

“I know,” Lan Xichen said, kissing his forehead. “But you’re my husband, and I am happy with that. Is it so hard to believe?”

Yes, Huaisang wanted to say.

He still remembered the way the other Lan Xichen had looked at him, on that day they all confronted him about Jin Guangshan’s death.That elegant face, usually so peaceful and happy, staring at him in disgust. He remembered as well it had been Lan Xichen who had first told the other two that Nie Huaisang could have been capable of murder.

His Xichen, the one in front of him, was still willing to forgive for now. But how long until he too turned against him, disgusted by what he was capable of? And then Huaisang would be alone. Worse than alone. He wouldn’t have the calming knowledge that at least, his brother and Xichen were happy. He wouldn’t have Lan Wangji’s friendship who had never bonded with him over impossible love. He wouldn’t have those occasional Night Hunts with Xiao Xingchen and Song Lan, both of them murdered here by the man who elsewhere had become their closest friend.

He must have started crying again at the thought. Xichen, without another word, pulled him into his arms and held him close until long after the tears had stopped. Until Huaisang, exhausted by emotion and painkillers, fell asleep against his husband's chest.

His last thought as he drifted off was that he had missed that closeness, and would miss it again once Xichen stopped pitying him and left again.

Over a month after Huaisang woke up, a visitor came to the Unclean Realm. It was not the first one. A few times, servants had knocked on the door and explained that someone needed to see Sect Leader Nie. Xichen had always refused so far, asking that the higher ranking disciples took care of this since neither he nor his husband were available. 

But this time, when a servant whispered to him the name of their guest, Xichen quickly ordered for the person to be brought to them. Odder still, he absolutely refused to tell Huaisang who was coming, though he seemed rather nervous about it.

When the door opened again, letting in their guest, Huaisang immediately understood his husband’s anxiety.

“Your husband said you had a Qi deviation,” Jiang Cheng explained as he stepped inside, “and that for some reason, it’d be good for you to see me.”

Huaisang stared at the other man. He could feel tears pooling in his eyes and flowing down his cheeks.

Often enough, during his more controlled Qi deviations and in innumerable nightmares, Huaisang had seen Jiang Cheng again. He always looked the way he had, that day in Yiling. Young. Weak. Desperate. So easy to kill. Not once in all those years had his hallucinations shown him the bitter, powerful man Jiang Cheng had become. Yet there he was, Sandu Shengshou in all his glory, the master of Lotus Piers.

Without thinking, Nie Huaisang sprung from the bed to hug the man he had murdered as a boy in another life. Jiang Cheng cursed and tensed, but Xichen must have told him something because he didn’t push away Huaisang the way he normally would have. He even allowed Huaisang to cry against his shoulder, awkwardly patting his back.

"Must have been a bad one," Jiang Cheng noted when Huaisang slumped back toward the bed, aided by his husband. 

"You have no idea," Huaisang sighed, glad to be laying down again. 

It would take a while to regain his strength. For the first time since waking up, he did not mind trying.

"Then learn to take better care of yourself," Jiang Cheng snapped, sitting by the bed. "You've created enough problems already. Lanling Jin is a mess, we don't need for Qinghe Nie to fall into chaos as well, just because you're so stupid you died!" 

"I'll try not to," Huaisang retorted, a little surprised to find he meant that. He had died twice already. It was an unpleasant experience he wasn't eager to revisit too soon. “Thank you for coming here. It means more to me than I can say.”

Jiang Cheng glared at him, clearly expecting some sort of mean spirited quip to follow. When none came, he glared even harder and complained about the state of things in Lanling, how he’d been forced to stay there almost permanently since the death of Jin Guangyao, and what an ungrateful brat his nephew was. Huaisang, silent at first, found himself drawn into the conversation for a little while until tiredness took over him.

“I guess after coming all this way, I’m just boring you?” Jiang Cheng complained when Huaisang couldn’t help a yawn. “Typical.”

“He’s still recovering,” Xichen remarked calmly, apparently missing the joke. “We are both very grateful for your visit. But perhaps it would be best to leave it at this for now?”

Surprisingly, Jiang Cheng did not protest. He stood up, and let Xichen walk him to the door. Huaisang heard the two of them exchange a few quiet words. Mostly thanks and apologies from Xichen, as well as the assurance that they would all have dinner together.

Huaisang had never left the room since waking up. He hadn’t expressed any desire for it, and Xichen had not made him. He supposed physically he was strong enough for it, so there was no reason to keep hiding. Emotionally he was less sure of himself but… having a meal with Jiang Cheng, alive and grown and well, was not the worst thing Huaisang could imagine going through.

When Jiang Cheng had left and the door was closed, Xichen came to sit on the bed, taking Huaisang’s hand.

“I would have called for Sizhui, but I do not know how to contact him,” Xichen explained. “He had not yet returned from travelling with Wen Ning when I left Gusu. Besides, since he is the one you spoke the most about, I thought it might be better if you saw Jiang Cheng. He is alive, and well.”

Huaisang frowned, unsure whether to be upset or relieved by that obvious attempt to prove he hadn’t done what he knew he had done.

“It was real. All of it, it was real.”

Xichen considered that, and leaned to kiss his husband’s hair.

“It certainly was real to you, and I am sorry you went through that experience. But you are back with me now, and we'll make things better. That is, if you still want me at your side?”

Yes, because Huaisang was cruel and selfish enough to want that. 

No, because he had hurt Xichen so much already, and would likely keep hurting him if they stayed together. It was the sort of person he was. So it would be better to send Xichen back to Gusu and forget about everything they had shared. 

Yes again, because Huaisang was tired of being lonely, of missing Xichen. It had taken him so long to realise he loved his husband, and he just wasn't strong enough to refuse. Not when he was offered what he wanted the most. 

"Stay with me," Huaisang asked, linking their fingers together. 

"Always," Xichen promised. 

He had to mean it, Huaisang knew. His husband never lied. 

Hopefully, Xichen would never have to regret that choice again.

Chapter Text

The spell was supposed to show Mingjue the place where his brother’s soul had become trapped, so it came as a surprise when instead, his own bedroom appeared on the bronze mirror. 

Except it couldn’t be his room. For one thing, the place in the mirror was in the dark, as if it were night there, whereas Mingjue was currently bathed in the golden light of early morning. For another, there was something wrong about the room in the mirror, details that did not quite fit with the real thing. 

The presence of a few beautiful painted fan gave him hope that, one way or another, that place was truly linked to his brother. 

Noticing that the bed in the mirror room was occupied, Mingjue came closer. That was how he discovered that one of the occupants was (or looked like) his brother, currently plastered against the chest of… 

“Xichen?” he cried out in surprise. 

But that, as well, was impossible. His husband was in their office, taking care of sect business to give Mingjue the chance to try this spell in peace. 

More importantly, the Huaisang in the mirror was tenderly holding this Xichen look-alike at the waist, in an almost laughable display of affection. In truth, and for reasons he had never shared, Huaisang had taken a strong dislike to Xichen around the time of the Sunshot Campaign and always avoided him. Mingjue had tried to question him, but his brother had been more slippery than an eel when the mood struck him. 

Mingjue was about to end the spell, since it had obviously failed, but the Xichen in the mirror room opened his eyes, as if he had heard his name called, and cried out in shock as he looked towards Mingjue. 

“You ! How?" 

So it appeared that he was visible to the inhabitants of this mirror room and, judging by the horror on mirror-Xichen’s face, his presence was not particularly welcome. It hurt, in some indescribable way, to bring that reaction even in a false version of his husband.

“I was looking for Huaisang,” Mingjue explained.

The fear in mirror-Xichen’s expression only increased. He pulled Huaisang closer against him, wrapping his arms around him, in a way not unlike what the real Xichen did when Mingjue became overcome with everything that had happened to him.

“Mingjue, please,” mirror-Xichen begged. “I don’t know how you can be here, Wei Wuxian said… it doesn’t matter. Please, don’t do this to your brother. He’s only now starting to recover.”

“Recover? From dying?”

Mirror-Xichen’s eyes widened in shock, his grasp on Huaisang tightening so much that the younger man sleepily protested it. Mirror-Xichen had to relax his grip, looking down at him with unbearable affection that made Mingjue uneasy with how similar to his husband this mirror creation acted.

“Mingjue, you’re the one who died,” mirror-Xichen calmly said. “You had a Qi deviation, don’t you remember?”

“No, that’s… that’s him,” Mingjue protested. “He had a Qi deviation in Yi-City, he… I’d sent him away, I left him on his own and he died.”

Recognition dawned on mirror-Xichen’s eyes who gasped.

“So his ritual had really worked,” he mumbled, looking at Huaisang with an anguished expression. “I thought… I hoped it had been an illusion. But he did it. He really saved you.”

“Saved me?”

Mirror-Xichen closed his eyes for a second, lifting his head and taking a deep breath, just like the real one did whenever he needed to calm his thoughts. With great care, he extricated himself from Huaisang’s hold so he could leave the bed. Mingjue, who had seen his husband nude more times than he could count, found himself looking away from this other version of him even though mirror-Xichen had pants and a loosely attached top on him. There was an intimacy there that Mingjue felt he had no right to, that belonged to this other Xichen and Huaisang, of all people.

“Huaisang told me about what happened in… in the place where you are,” mirror-Xichen explained. “But here, things went differently. Here you were murdered before we could marry, although… we did not know at first that it was a murder, not for years. Huaisang is the one who found out and made sure you were avenged. Then he decided that it wasn’t enough, that he had to find a way to keep you alive… and here you are. Your brother is a stubborn man and what he wants, he gets.”

“The two of you…”

Mirror-Xichen looked down.

“Your mother did not want to lose the alliance. We married as soon as the mourning period was over.”

That certainly sounded like something Mingjue’s mother would have demanded. She had not always been an unkind woman, he remembered the days before his father took a second spouse, but… there was no denying she had grown bitter over the years. If he had died, she would have suffered and wanted everyone to suffer with her.

“I missed you,” mirror-Xichen whispered, refusing to meet his eyes. “I never stopped missing you. I always wondered if you’d hate me for finding happiness again, and like this…”

Feeling struck by realisation, Mingjue’s eyes went from the man who wasn’t his husband to the sleeping shape of his brother.

It was so deeply unpleasant for Mingjue to think of Xichen, his husband, the love of his life, in the arms of another, even after being told it had happened because in the mirror world, they had never gotten a chance to marry. He could not imagine what it must have been like for Huaisang, all these years. Suddenly, it made sense why he had always avoided Xichen, why he was so often gone from the Unclean Realm.

“Do you hate me, Mingjue?” mirror-Xichen insisted, finally looking at him again. “For loving him too?”

The question surprised him. His first thought was that yes, he would hate Xichen for this, for taking his little brother to bed after he was gone, for betraying him.

But this was not his Xichen, and he was not that man’s Mingjue. Who was he to judge that man in the mirror? He did not like the idea of Xichen smiling at another man, and it made him gag to think of anyone touching his husband, but…

His eyes went again to Huaisang, looking more peaceful in his sleep than Mingjue had seen him since long before the war, and thought of the way he’d been holding on to mirror-Xichen when he had never been one to let close to him, when he tended to shun to touch of others. He remembered that last, cold hug between them after he’d been forced to exile Huaisang for crimes he refused to deny. And yet he’d been so relaxed in the arms of his… his husband, apparently.

“Is he happy?”

The question appeared to surprise mirror-Xichen, who turned to look at Huaisang as well, concern showing on his face.

“We are getting there again, I think,” he replied with some hesitation. “It has been… difficult. The things he did here to avenge you, the ones he did in your world to save you, they took their toll on him. He is just starting to recover. But we’ve been happy together before, the two of us, and we will be again as he continues healing.”

Mingjue nodded, satisfied with that answer. He did not think his brother had ever been happy, except perhaps while he studied in the Cloud Recesses. Once he returned there had always been something off with his smiles, especially after the war.

“Are you happy, Xichen?”

To this, there was no hesitation. The man in the mirror nodded right away, fighting a smile.

“He’s impossible, but I wouldn’t trade what we have.”

A pain of pain and betrayal shot through Mingjue’s heart at that easy admission, but… 

They had managed to decipher some of the notes Huaisang had left behind. He knew what his brother had been trying to do when he died, the way he’d looked for ways to prevent Qi deviations and how he had experimented on himself. Mingjue had thought it had been fear for his own life, but he now wondered if this, too, had been for his sake instead.

Mingjue might not like the way things were in that mirror world, but his brother deserved to be loved, deserved the fondness in that other Xichen’s voice and eyes.

“I’d never hate either of you for being happy,” Mingjue said at last. “Not even like this.”

The man in the mirror smiled at him, clearly relieved, as if being hated by Mingjue had really hung heavy on his mind. It soothed some of Mingjue’s discomfort that his good opinion would still matter, even if he had apparently left that Xichen’s life years before.

“I will let you be,” Mingjue sighed. “I just… we’d figured there was something wrong with Huaisang’s soul, it seemed to be gone, I was worried… I’m glad he’s fine. I’m glad he’s happy.”

“Will you ever… return?” Mirror-Xichen asked, looking conflicted.

Mingjue shook his head. He knew what he needed to know. He was glad for those two men in the mirror world, but the idea of seeing his husband staring so lovingly at another man was too unpleasant.

“Take care of him for me,” he demanded. “I’ve done a poor job of it, so I’m counting on you.”

He watched mirror-Xichen nod solemnly, and ended the spell, making the image on the bronze mirror disappear.

For a long while Mingjue stared into nothingness, still unsure how to feel about this conversation, how to go on with his day after learning so much at once.

In the end, he carefully put down the mirror back where it belonged, and left the room to seek his husband’s company. They probably had work to do, they always did, but it would have to wait. Right then, Mingjue needed to be at Xichen’s side, and to be reminded that here, in this kinder world, they would always have each other.