It's time to announce the prompts for SangYao Week 2024! This event will last nine days, from 12-20 May, and there are 4 prompts to choose from each day.
We look forward to the amazing SangYao works to come! 💛💚
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In which (some) wealthy vampires rent a human for their blood. Huaisang signed up for the program because he likes easy money not seen by his brother and is snatched up and away by Meng Yao instantly. The vampire is soft, polite; only occasionally possessive and only slightly insane. Huaisang doesn't know much about him yet, only that he apparently killed his master and drank all his blood, becoming very powerful. Other vampires step away when he walks by.
No matter what most of his family said, he wasn't a complete idiot. He'd actually made the effort to look into this 'donation' business before submitting his name and medical records.
The problem was that there was little information to find.
The other problem was that he didn't have much choice, given his current situation.
Two days after he'd signed up, on the first real day off he'd had in over a month, he got a text directing him to a particular address, with the name of the match waiting for him, as if this were a dating site connection.
Meng Yao... why did that name sound familiar?
Shaking off his curiosity, he made his way to the train station to get across the city.
The address he arrived at was a condo building that was a hell of a lot nicer than the school dorm he lived in, and considering the directions were to take the elevator all the way to the top floor, this guy must have been loaded.
Well, that was why he was here, wasn't it?
Other people who were either residents or staff paid him no mind-
-no that wasn't quite right. They were expressly ignoring his presence, carefully looking in any direction besides his.
Snobby assholes. His clothes were just fine, and he was clean, and it wasn't any of their business anyway.
He was the last one on the elevator when it stopped at the top floor, and he stepped out directly into what looked more like an extra long waiting room than a hallway. There were only two doors, one on each side, and both were numbered.
Only two condos on the whole floor.
Letting out his breath in a sharp huff, he quickly stepped out of the elevator before it could go back down with him in it and looked at the door numbers, then pressed the bell button on the left.
"Nie-xiansheng, I presume?"
He supposed he could be forgiven for nearly hitting the ceiling in surprise, especially since the smirk the man behind him was wearing when he whipped around meant he had intentionally been snuck up on.
It... wasn't an unattractive smirk, he would admit, between the dimples and the honey gold eyes-
-wait.
"Meng-xiansheng?"
The smirk widened, briefly flashing very sharp teeth. Yep, this was his match.
"Shall we go in and get acquainted?"
"Sure," he managed to say without sounding too squeaky.
Once they'd left their shoes at the door, Meng Yao led him past the living room to an office that was by itself bigger than his dorm room and waved for him to sit on the huge plush sofa.
He did as told, then watched as Meng Yao picked up a file from his desk and sank into the armchair across from him.
"The agency sent me digital copies, but I prefer to keep paper as well. Do you mind?"
He quickly shook his head.
"Excellent. Now, then," Meng Yao said, opening it up. "'Nie Huaisang, age twenty-one. Currently in university for art restoration and conservation, with a night shift job as a hotel receptionist. A rather lengthy history with hospitals.'"
Meng Yao looked up over the file, and the way those gold eyes flashed with interest made Nie Huaisang involuntarily swallow hard.
"I must say, you are hardly the first university student to sign with the agency, but you're the first to be accepted with a medical record like yours. Why take the risk?"
"It- it's complicated, xiansheng." When Meng Yao waved for him to continue, he took a deep breath, then let it out. "M- my family is known for... physical pursuits. Athletes, soldiers, bodyguards, security, all that. There's a whole family business built around it that my older brother's running now."
"And then there's you," Meng Yao said, but surprisingly he sounded... more sympathetic than scornful.
"And then there's me," Nie Huaisang agreed. "Da-ge covers my room and board, and I've got a couple of scholarships that handle tuition and books, but for renting studio space and buying supplies? I'm on my own. It's... well, that's complicated, too. Anyway, the hotel night receptionist job was the only thing I could get that didn't clash with my classes and projects, but I'm getting so little sleep that I don't know how much longer I can keep it up. And then one of my classmates gave me a card for the agency."
"I see." Meng Yao closed the folder and laid it aside.
"And the medical stuff," Nie Huaisang continued, hoping he wasn't sounding too desperate. "I know the number of times I've been to the hospital looks bad, but it's mostly just been for testing."
For assorted types of delirium, he almost said, but that wouldn't sound good either. And besides, Meng Yao had probably already seen that, if he was as diligent about reading the records as he seemed to be.
"Hm." Meng Yao stood up and walked over to his desk, leaned against it, and folded his arms, gaze sharp. "Nie-xiansheng, I don't entirely believe the agency sent you here for benevolent reasons."
Nie Huaisang's stomach dropped. "W-what?"
"I am willing to admit I am someone who has made a lot of enemies, particularly with how I rose to this rank in the world. And I believe your being accepted into the donation program has been facilitated by one of them."
"How you-"
Oh.
Oh, no.
Now he remembered why his match's name had struck him as familiar. It hadn't been the sort of scandal the mundane news covered, but those that were on the edges of the supernatural community, like his own family, had heard snatches of it.
A dhampir who'd killed his sire of both senses of the word, and in doing so, had stolen enough power to become a fullblooded vampire while still remaining a daywalker.
The other fullbloods in the province, most of whom had been business associates of Jin Guangshan, had been furious, but there had been no actual laws broken so things had eventually settled.
But what did that have to do with-
He jumped a little, surprised out of his thoughts, when cold fingers lifted his chin.
He'd been so distracted that he hadn't even seen Meng Yao move.
“But you, Nie-xiansheng, I do believe you’ve been sincere. That’s why I’m willing to let you walk away, and I’ll even give you the agreed-upon payment for having been dragged into this.”
"But then you'll still be hungry," Nie Huaisang said before his brain could catch up to his mouth. And then his mouth just kept running ahead. "And the agency will know that you know, and then they'll come after me, won't they? And then-"
"Hush."
He obediently shut up so fast his teeth clicked together.
Meng Yao's mouth quirked into a faint, but genuine smile. "You are adorable," he said before pulling away and turning back towards his desk.
If Nie Huaisang had been embarrassed before, his face was on fire now.
"Nie-xiansheng," Meng Yao said after a long silence. "With your history, I presume you're very familiar with giving blood in the medical fashion, yes?"
"Er- yes."
Meng Yao turned to face him again. "As it happens, I very much prefer taking blood from my donors in the same fashion. It might not be as glamorous as the traditional method, but it causes a great deal less mess, and lowers the risk of the donor going into shock. Therefore, I propose an experiment."
"What sort of experiment?" Nie Huaisang asked, though he was fairly sure he'd gotten the idea already.
"If, and only if the blood donation does not cause any lasting problems for your conditions, I would like you to permanently become my donor. In return, you will get the full donor fee each time, without having to give a percentage to the agency, and you will also be given my protection should whoever my enemy in the agency is make any false moves against you."
"And if my body's not up to it?"
"As it was because of my being targeted that you are under threat, you'll still be under my protection, you just won't be getting paid."
And Meng Yao would still have to find another donor, without agency assistance.
Nie Huaisang knew he should just ask for the second option. If this did make his health worse-
"Okay. Hopefully this works out," he said instead.
The smile Meng Yao gave him for that made him feel lightheaded.
And the room he was brought to next was like some bizarre fusion of guest bedroom and hospital room. The bed was definitely a medical gurney, but much more comfortably padded than any he'd ever been in before, and though there was other medical equipment about and the floor was stark tile, the lighting was low and warm.
He took off his jacket and shirt when prompted and accepted a sleeveless one instead, then laid down on the soft gurney cushion and watched as Meng Yao laid out his tools.
"What's that?" he asked when he noticed two syringes of clear fluid.
"How familiar are you with the process of blood feeding in the animal kingdom?" Meng Yao asked in return.
"Uh... not very," Nie Huaisang admitted. "I know there are mosquitos and bats... I could actually name you a few species of birds that do it? I'm better with those."
"You really are cute," Meng Yao said. "Many hematophagic species produce chemical agents in their saliva that create a numbing or sedation effect, to keep their hosts from noticing them and either killing them or shooing them away. So do we."
Nie Huaisang involuntarily wrinkled his nose, but then shrugged. "I'm pretty sure I've gone through worse than anasthesia via vampire spit."
Meng Yao looked amused. "That's refreshingly pragmatic of you. You wouldn't believe how many people are fine with the idea of being bitten, but disgusted by this," he said as he wrapped the tourniquet around Nie Huaisang's arm and then uncapped the needle.
Nie Huaisang barely felt it break the skin. "Oh, you're good," he murmured, relieved.
"A great deal of practice. Now, I'm sure you know the drill, start counting backwards from a hundred."
---
When he opened his eyes again, he could see a wash of sunset-ish colors through the window to his left, and a blanket had been pulled up over him.
Blinking sleepily, his vision swimming, he tried to sit up, only to find his body felt a bit like jelly.
"There you are," a familiar-not-familiar voice crooned, and a gentle hand brushed his bangs out of his eyes.
Slowly, Meng Yao's face came back into focus.
"How long has it been?" Nie Huaisang asked, the question slurring a little in his mouth.
"It's just after seven. I took the liberty of ordering you dinner from the restaurant on the first floor to help you get your strength back. You did beautifully, by the way."
"Thank you," he mumbled, and he wasn't sure if it was for the offered food or the strange compliment.
The motorized gurney helped him sit up and more pillows were tucked behind him for comfort. His hands proved too unsteady to manage a spoon on his own, so he had to allow Meng Yao to help him eat.
"So... what happens now?" he asked when he'd finished the first of the dishes on the tray and a few sips of the smoothie.
"I have already deposited your fee for this session, and I would recommend you contact whoever you're living with and tell them you're staying somewhere for the night instead of trying to make your way home in your current condition. If you've fully recovered in the next three days or so, then we will jointly draw up a contract and get your bracelet made."
"Bracelet?"
"It's akin to a hospital bracelet, really, only instead of having all your medical information, it's a warning sign to anyone else who would attempt to bite you."
Oh. That made sense.
At least as much as anything about this made sense.
Wasn't he accepting it all a little too easily?
Wasn't like he could do much else at this point, was there? He was kind of stuck.
Stuck with a very attractive vampire making the effort to look after his health and fixing his financial situation, though. He was willing to count it in the positives.
"Okay, then," he said, accepting the next bite of salmon and vegetables.
Some secret relationship birthday smoochies in a secluded place to get some privacy please! They started dating at jgy b-day and today is their 3rd anniversary and the honeymoon phase still lasts. Silly friendly bicker, kisses, fluff, hugs, all that. Btw, thank you for all the effort you put into this 💗
I opted to split the difference and do a "the people we trust know" where their friends and sibs are aware, but Jin Guangshan and his cohorts just think Meng Yao's wasting his time as Huaisang's social proxy instead of cooking the books for his dad's company.
------------
Once his brother, sister-in-law and nephew had left, their filled takeout and dessert boxes in hand, Meng Yao ran a mental tally. The only one left in their circle who hadn't dropped by yet was Xuanyu, and he'd already let them know it would be a day or two before he could get to the city.
Satisfied that they wouldn't be having any more visitors, he sliced three last pieces of cake and fixed a tray from the assorted party foods, then packed the rest away in the fridge.
After some thought, he decided it wasn't worth the effort to fuss around with wine glasses and simply brought the bottle with him as he headed to the sliding glass door that led out to the wide balcony and pushed it open with his foot.
" 'm sorry," the miserable bundle of blankets tucked into the center corner of the outdoor sofa mumbled.
It was the tenth time Huaisang had said so in the last several hours, but Meng Yao was used to it. Whenever the disorientation spells took him over like this, he tended to forget whom he'd even talked to last, let alone what he said.
"There's nothing to apologize for, a-Sang," he said as he set the bottle and the tray down on one of the low tables, then reached out and closed the door before sitting down on the sofa himself.
Huaisang poked his head out of the blankets just enough to lean in against Meng Yao's shoulder. "But you worked so hard on the party plans."
Meng Yao wrapped his arm around his partner and kissed Huaisang's mussed hair. "And you worked just as hard trying to keep yourself well for it," he said as he reached out to grab a piece of shrimp toast and hand it to Huaisang, then took another for himself. "Honestly, though, I think this drop off presents and pick up food rearrangement might have turned out more favorably for everyone. Or at least everyone we actually wanted to invite."
"Yeah?" Huaisang asked after swallowing the bite he'd taken. "How so?"
"Well, first off and most importantly, nobody has to deal with whatever my father says or does while getting drunk in public."
He felt Huaisang shudder. "True."
"Or how your brother reacts to it."
"...Also true."
Neither of the Nie brothers had wanted Huaisang's birthday, even a mile marker like thirty years old, to be a big social event. But the gallery currently hosting one of his shows had wanted to host him as well, which had been a very sweet gesture until Meng Yao's father had noticed an opportunity to hobnob and had thrown his weight around as "a patron of the arts" to turn what would have been a small party into a full blown gala.
That hadn't been the only string he'd pulled either.
A slam behind them made Meng Yao look over the back of the couch to see Nie Mingjue had gotten home, looking harried.
Though it was typically his job to deal with the press, being Huaisang's public stand-in and all, Mingjue had insisted on handling it just this once while Meng Yao dealt with the breakdown of all the party plans he'd so carefully arranged.
He waved to signal the elder Nie where they were, and Mingjue nodded, then vanished into the kitchen for a moment before coming out to join them with a bottle of beer in hand.
"Never again," he rumbled as he popped the cap off his beer with ease, then grabbed a pineapple bun.
"Your sacrifice is noted," Meng Yao said, earning a snort from Huaisang.
The noise drew Mingjue's attention to his little brother. "Feeling any better?"
"A little," Huaisang murmured, still snuggled into Meng Yao's side. "I don't think I can stand up yet, but at least I don't sound like a drunk anymore."
"Good." Mingjue finished off the pineapple bun in two bites, then took a couple of pork floss buns. "Call me when you're ready to sleep and I'll carry you to your room."
"Okay."
Meng Yao picked up one of the three little plates with cake on them and held it up so Mingjue could put the buns on it and take it with him, and then it was just the two of them again.
"Shift for just a second," Meng Yao said. Huaisang grumbled a little, but sat up enough that he could reach the open wine bottle and pull it back between them. "Thank you. Do you want your cake now, or do you want to eat something else first?"
"Hmm... what's in the bao?"
"Duck and mushroom on the left of the tray, pork and scallion on the right."
"Two of the duck, please."
Meng Yao obligingly handed them over, then took a swig from the wine bottle and got himself another piece of shrimp toast as Huaisang munched quietly.
When silently asked for the wine, he handed that over as well, and they continued to trade back and forth until the only food that was left were the slices of birthday cake.
"Meng Yao?" Huaisang asked when that too was gone, sounding sleepy enough that they'd have to be calling Mingjue back soon.
"Hm?"
"This was still a pretty good birthday."
"Well, I'm glad you approve," Meng Yao replied teasingly, then kissed him.
Nhs has crush on meng yao. Before my and nmj become friends. He uses their friendship to get meng yaos attention. But no matter what he does he never get any friendly shoulder pat, head pats from meng yao that his brother get a tons of.
I think I got this a little confused, but I hope it's still good.
----------
Zhou Sang could admit he wasn't the best at socializing. Hard as he tried, most of the time he found himself surrounded by people who wanted things from him or wanted him to entertain them, not people who wanted to be his friend.
But he'd thought Shun Yao was different. The older boy had been rather standoffish at first, true, but they'd wound up working together on festivals and such so many times that Zhou Sang was sure they were becoming friends.
In fact, they were getting along so well that Zhou Sang found himself hoping... that maybe...
Well.
There was one oddity in their burgeoning relationship, but he didn't mind it. If Shun Yao avoided touching or being touched, it was fine! Everyone had their boundaries, and Zhou Sang didn't want to make him uncomfortable.
And then, one day when he was running late leaving his last class to meet up with Da-ge, he happened to notice a familiar figure walk up to where his brother was waiting at the gate.
Huh... since when did his brother and Shun Yao know each other?
Curiosity piqued, he laid his schoolbag back down and moved closer to the window-
-just in time to see Shun Yao pat Zhou Jue on the arm and Zhou Jue give him a playful shove back, both of them laughing about something he couldn't hear.
Zhou Sang felt like he was going to throw up.
All this time, he'd thought- he'd thought-
Had Shun Yao only been humoring a request from Da-ge from the beginning? Had that been why-?
Forcibly swallowing the burning feeling that was rising up in the back of his throat, he turned and dug his phone out of his bag.
'Forgot about a club meeting today. See you at home later!' he texted, sending it off before realizing he hadn't included any of his usual emojis.
It didn't seem to matter.
After some more talking, his brother and Shun Yao walked away together.
And he went to go find somewhere no one would see him have a breakdown.
---
Over the course of several lifetimes, Shun Yao had come to realize that if he crossed paths with people he'd known before, there was always an element of fate to it.
So when one of his fellow upperclassmen introduced him to the artist for the school's fall festival posters, he had held it together long enough to bow in greeting and get to work.
It had only taken him a short time to establish that, like most of the others he had met from that first life, Zhou Sang remembered nothing.
And yet the way he behaved was so painfully similar to that of the young master he'd once accompanied to the lectures for gentry sect juniors.
It was a familiarity he couldn't allow himself to get caught up in, or else-
He should have known that where one brother went, so the other wold follow. But when Zhou Jue had showed up on the school grounds to pick up Zhou Sang, and had ended up chasing off some delinquent students harassing Shun Yao, he had still been caught off guard.
Perhaps it was the fact that, unlike his little brother, Zhou Jue was not a mirror image of his past self. Not being forced too early into the position of caring for an entire sect or preparing for a war looming ahead had clearly done him a world of good, as Zhou Jue laughed far more easily and carried much less weight on his shoulders than Nie Mingjue had.
His easygoing, extroverted demeanor was much more appealing to his sensibilities than that of the staunch cultivator he'd once known, and Shun Yao found himself enjoying when they could talk.
Their rekindled-newfound friendship was going so well, in fact, that he didn't notice at first that he'd been seeing much less of Zhou Sang.
Not until Zhou Sang was absent for a planning meeting for the next school event. Even if he didn't care about the actual subject, he always jumped at the chance to be on the decorating committee, since it would give him more to add to his painting portfolio. For him to just not show up at all...
The meeting concluded before the bell rang for the next class, so, acting on a hunch, Shun Yao headed for the art room.
"-ly got sick of your personality," he heard an unfamiliar voice say just as his hand touched the knob to the sliding door.
"What the hell, man?" another voice snapped.
"What? It's true! They're like night and day, so if the guy's hanging out with his brother-"
"Still, you don't just say that!"
He pushed the door open just enough to see into the room. Two boys he didn't recognize were bickering, seemingly so deep in their sniping back and forth that they had completely forgotten the subject of their argument, who was sitting with his knees pulled to his chest under one of the room's windows.
The pair arguing didn't even notice him as they approached the door, and he quickly stood aside to let them pass.
Then he slipped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him.
Zhou Sang didn't look up, clearly having expected to be left behind as soon as the argument started.
The expression on his face was... well. He had seen it before, like everything else about Zhou Sang. But, rather than making him nervously uncomfortable as he had been previously, it made his heart ache.
Because those other boys had to have meant him.
When they had first met, he had assumed Zhou Sang had a lot of friends. No longer living in a martial sect with all that entailed, surely he would have been able to attract friends as easy as breathing.
For his distance and neglect to have hurt this much... clearly that wasn't the case.
And, really, were Zhou Sang's familiar quirks so bad? He had loved them once, and the boy they were attached to.
All things considered... this was also a second chance, like the one he'd been given with Zhou Jue.
Did he really want to squander it?
Taking a deep breath and letting it out, he went to crouch in front of Zhou Sang, and when the other boy raised his head warily, he smiled and offered a hand.
"Hi. Can we start over?"
Zhou Sang looked at his outstretched hand, and Shun Yao could practically see him calculating whether or not he should risk his heart again.
Then... Slowly, hesitantly, Zhou Sang took it. "Okay."
Free Day: NHS is the elder brother from the Nie clan and thus is the person who appointed MY as his deputy
Set in this verse with requester permission.
------------
He had thought that introductions were going well, but as soon as he mentioned why he was there and who had sent him, Nie-zongzhu's welcoming smile vanished.
He didn't look annoyed or anything of that sort, instead he seemed... embarrassed.
"Oh! That's- ah... Well..." he mumbled, awkwardly scratching his neck-
-Meng Yao politely pretended not to notice that there were already a great many scratches there-
-then he sighed. "I'm sorry. Whatever promotion you were told this would be was a lie."
A creeping-crawling feeling started to form in Meng Yao's stomach, similar to the one he used to get as a child whenever one of the adults would promise him something and then pretend not to have done so later. "What do you- I-I mean, could Zongzhu clarify for this one, please?"
"I do need an assistant, but as far as the disciples and soldiers are concerned, the position is a joke. Or a punishment. Nobody wants to work with the sect leader in-name-only when they could potentially gain a position of actual importance."
The creeping feeling gathered together into a stone. He felt dizzy all of a sudden.
He was further surprised when Nie-zongzhu quickly gave up his own chair and even helped him to sit. "Why are you telling me this?"
"We may have only talked a little while, but from your descriptions of your time helping our side, you seem hardworking and trustworthy. I like you enough to be honest with you," Nie-zongzhu said simply.
Honest with him. Which was more than he could say for the men who'd promised him a better rank in return for his effort. And much kinder, too.
"If... I were to stay, what would be required of me?" he asked cautiously.
"Are you good with sums? Recording counts? Names and faces? Taking notes? Reading maps?" Nie-zongzhu listed off, and he nodded an affirmative to each one.
And finally- "Do you get ill around severe injuries? Blood and broken bones and all that? I know you said you were on battlefield cleanup before, but it's, ah, different when you're looking at someone still squirming and screaming."
"I've seen enough," Meng Yao said. "And I have some training in battlefield triage."
"Oh, excellent!" Nie-zongzhu said, clapping his hands together with a smile that seemed to lighten up everything about him in a way that... was actually very endearing. "Those soldiers really had no idea what they were throwing away, did they? But their loss is my gain!"
Despite himself, Meng Yao felt his face grow warm under the praise.
"Alright, then, let's get you set up with a place to sleep and your scribe kit, and then we'll get started with the kitchen and infirmary supply lists for today, okay?"
"Yes, Zongzhu."
---
By the time he made it back to his new cot and tent, Meng Yao was exhausted.
But he also felt... accomplished.
Tailing his new sect leader as he bustled about the support camps for the front line, he had found that despite the lack of respect the combat cultivators and soldiers gave him and his quiet meekness, Nie-zo- Huaisang, the man had insisted- actually had a very keen and complicated mind when it came to strategy and logistics.
Every worker, from medic to cook to farrier to message runner, that they met with had been introduced to Meng Yao by name, and it was clear they appreciated the recognition, along with Huaisang's string pulling to keep their supplies filled and their tools in good condition.
He was also quick -and genuine- with praise, both for them and for Meng Yao, who couldn't remember the last time anyone but his mother had ever spoken of him so highly.
It was... addicting, in a way. The sweeter Huaisang was to him, the more of that he wanted.
He couldn't lose sight of his goal. He was still aiming for his father's sect.
But... having found himself a shelter of sorts from the storm of public ridicule... maybe he could let himself enjoy it.
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From Huaisang having to convince Meng Yao to accept even a simple gift to Jin Guangyao casually drowning Huaisang in gifts just because he (finally) can.
"Okay, then. I propose we play a game."
Meng Yao glanced over, registered the determination shining in Nie Huaisang's eyes, then sighed and put down his brush. "What game does gongzi have in mind?"
"If I can give you a reasonable, logistics-related argument why you need whatever the thing is I'm trying to give you, then you won't get all deflective 'oh, but I don't deserve it' on me and take it."
Meng Yao could immediately see the ruse behind the rules.
And... honestly... the fact that Nie Huaisang had thought up the ruse in the first place didn't bother him as much as he would have expected. Quite the opposite, actually. The fact that his young master was going out of his way to create an excuse that would cut down on both sect gossip and any potential grumbling from Nie Mingjue was clever.
The fact that Nie Huaisang had come up with this specifically for him was rather endearing.
And whether Nie Huaisang knew it or not, the logic game could potentially sidestep another problem.
He had learned at a very young age that unless it actually came directly from his mother, there was no such thing as a 'gift'. There were loans and other words that implied a demand for payment or repayment later. Or there were promises that would be broken at the first convenience.
Even now, after living in the Unclean Realms for several months, it was hard for him to accept that Nie Huaisang didn't want any other, more tangible, payment besides his company. That gifts were indeed gifts.
If Nie Huaisang presented them as job necessities instead... could he...?
"Fine. We'll try it your way."
Nie Huaisang perked up, then promptly produced a package from behind his back and plopped it on Meng Yao's desk.
With a total lack of surprise, Meng Yao unbound it and peeled open the paper to find a set of simple, but evidently high-quality brushes, and a flat box that contained both ink stones and pigment stones.
Ignoring both the immediate knotting of his stomach at how much they must have cost and the flutter in his chest at the fact that Nie Huaisang had seen him as worth getting them for, he looked up and raised an eyebrow at Nie Huaisang to give his reasoning.
"With better brushes and ink, your calligraphy will be smoother and less splotchy, which means you won't have to spend extra time on corrections and your paperwork will look more professional," Nie Huaisang replied, still grinning as he folded his hands behind his back again.
... Well. It really was a good argument.
"Thank you, gongzi," Meng Yao said politely as he opened the center drawer of his desk and laid the brushes and box inside next to the pot of oil he used for mixing ink.
Practically beaming now, Nie Huaisang spun with a cheerful wave, then left.
Meng Yao finished the document he'd been drafting before Nie Huaisang had arrived.
Then he dropped the brush he'd been using into the waste basket at his feet and selected one of the new ones, unable to keep from smiling a little when he found it really did handle even the overly thick ink still left in the bowl much more elegantly.
---
"Aah? What are these?" Nie Huaisang asked curiously as they stopped at a cluster of intricately carved little granite pedestals, and Jin Guangyao gave a noncommittal shrug to hide how his heart was almost vibrating with anticipation.
Nie Huaisang went to examine the bowls of varying sizes that had been cut into the tops, stone vines holding them in place. "These would be good for- oh! They're for watering and feeding birds, aren't they? I should order..."
He trailed off and looked up, and Jin Guangyao couldn't help grinning at the expression on Huaisang's face when he connected the pieces.
Ah, yes. Now he understood why Huaisang had always been so eager to give him gifts.
"San-ge! These must have cost-"
"If you set them up in your aviary, you won't have to worry about your birds breaking the bowls from the kitchens anymore. Or your brother yelling at you when they do."
Nie Huaisang was sharper than others gave him credit for. Those green eyes immediately flickered in recognition of their old 'game'.
With how much had changed in the last three years, Jin Guangyao didn't exactly know how Nie Huaisang felt about that game these days. So he was more than a little relieved when Huaisang started laughing and rushed to hug him in delighted gratitude.
Perhaps he would next choose something a little less utilitarian... just because.
He lost forgot about the whole gift-thing (a lie), as both the little notes and the gifts stopped after he sent his letter. It didn't really bother him (another lie); he had so many other things to do (a somewhat truth). While he was a bit disappointed (a gross understatement) that Jin Guangyao seemingly forgot about him, but the saber practices became one of his favorite things overnight (to the desperation of his bruised and wounded training partners).
His mood was just as bright as a lovely spring day (when one moment the sun is shining, and the next there's a devastating hail storm), and he was enthusiastically working on some slight issues (viciously tearing a proposal apart), when Nie Mingjue approached him. “Huaisang, we have a visitor,” he said.
The younger Nie rolled his eyes. “Another?” He groaned.
“Mm,” hummed Nie Mingjue noncommitally, gesturing towards the courtyard. With a mix of resignation and frustration, Nie Huaisang made his way to the entrance, his strides long and determined, as if he was going to a battle. He hated these “visitors”, because each and every one of them were the sons and daughters of smaller clan heads, trying to dump them onto him. Somehow they all thought that if he denied them through letter, he wouldn't be able to do that after seeing their “beautiful, smart and perfect” offsprings in real life.
He threw the doors open, but before he could march right in front of another spouse-wannabe, he stopped dead on his tracks.
There, standing amidst the peach blossoms, was Jin Guangyao, dressed in the rich, golden robes of the Jin sect, looking like the prettiest painting ever.
Nie Huaisang noted distantly that his eyes lit up as he saw Nie Huaisang, but it was as if he was seeing what was happen as an outsider. As if it was happening to somebody else.
“A-Sang,” Jin Guangyao whispered, and stepped forward, a tentative smile on his lips.
With that, Nie Huaisang stepped back, making Jin Falter with his movement.
They stood there for a moment, simply looking at each other, the world around them fading into the background. Nie Huaisang wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not; he wasn't even sure what he was feeling at that moment. Joy? Anger? Love? Rejection? Hope? Sadness? He really wasn't sure.
Finally, Jin Guangyao broke the silence, his voice filled with sincerity.
“I’ve missed you, Huaisang,” he confessed. “Every day, I thought of you. Before I sent you the gifts, I needed to establish myself in Lanling. Then, I found things that I thought you'd like, and I just had to send them to you, but I couldn't afford to bring them myself. After your letter, I was working hard to be able to come here. I'm sorry for not coming sooner, not replying you, but I had to convince the Sect Leader that it would benefit him if I moved here. I… I missed you, Huaisang. Can you forgive me?”
Nie Huaisang felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. “I missed you too,” he admitted.
Jin Guangyao stepped closer, gently taking Nie Huaisang’s hand. “I need to tell you something, and I want to know if you felt the same way. I would wish to stay with you either way, as a friend, or… but I have to know.”
Nie Huaisang’s heart pounded in his chest, hope filling his chest, like a bad heart-burn. Or a stomach ace. “How I feel?”
Jin Guangyao nodded. “Huaisang, I love you. I want to be with you, to build a future together. Do you… Do you think you could ever feel the same?”
Nie Huaisang’s breath caught in his throat. “A-Yao, I…” He faltered, but the look in his partner's eyes gave him strength. “While I kind of hate you for the time without any contact, I… I do love you. I've fallen for you the first time you stepped in front of me to shield me from a bandit. I just couldn't hope that you'd feel the same, especially after knowing who I was.”
Relief and joy washed over Jin Guangyao’s face. It was unfairly pretty. He was always graceful, like a doe, pretty, like a flower petal, and beautiful without comparison, but love and happiness made him look ethereal. Like a god descending from the heavens.
He pulled Nie Huaisang into a tight embrace, propriety damned, and Nie Huaisang gladly let him. “Thank you, Huaisang. Thank you for giving me this chance.”
They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, savoring the moment of their reunion. Nie Huaisang could feel his brother's long-suffering stare from a distance, but he cared not even the tiniest bit. He was finally happy.
He had the approval of his clan, the trust of his beloved Da-ge, and the love of Jin Guangyao. Finally, he felt content.
After a particularly long torture session Meng Yao tries to recall some nice memories to stop thinking about what happened, what he did and what will happen if he is found out, his mind wandering to Qinghe, beginning to lull him in - until the face in his mind and the face of the badly disguised kitchen boy suddenly overlaps.
cw for torture descriptions. they don't get super graphic, but still enough to be gross. it didn't quite line up with your request either, sorry? i couldn't resist the idea of them crossing paths and neither realizing it.
------------
His whole life has been a process of separating his external senses from his stomach little by little, but it still disturbs him the first time he doesn't get even a little bit nauseous at the smell of burning human flesh or the sight of skin and fat and muscle bubbling under acid.
In fact, it is that lack of instantaneous reaction that ends up making him feel ill, some still innocent part of his brain rebelling at how low he has sunk and twisting his stomach into knots as it screams at him for being a monster.
The screams mixing with those of the prisoner decidedly do not help in this regard, and he is immensely relieved when Wen Ruohan finally grows bored and puts the man out of his misery.
"A useful little tool," his sect leader says, admiring the brush with specially-enhanced bristles that let it withstand the acid long enough to sear intricate lines into a restrained body. "Pity his pain tolerance was too weak to give us any equally useful information before he was overwhelmed."
Meng Yao bows low, the motion smooth and perfect despite his discomfort. "I will test different blends of the ingredients," he says as he straightens back up, voice even despite the way the back of his throat has closed up.
Wen Ruohan smiles at him. "Diligent as ever. I always look forward to trying out the fruits of your progress, Yao-er."
And then his sect leader is gone, and soldiers arrive to remove the corpse.
And then they are gone, and he is alone, now free to pick up the brush without anyone to see his hands are trembling.
He had been living a very different life when he had originally thought of such a thing, and his inspiration had been nothing like what it had ended up being used for.
In his mind's eye, he watched Nie Huaisang carefully hold a hot needle in a leather-gloved hand and scorch lines into wood, biting his tongue in concentration the same way he frequently did while painting.
"I'm not nearly as good with this as I am with a brush," his former young master had said, wrinkling his nose at this or that mistake. "It would be a lot easier if I was. Do you think Da-ge will still like his gift?"
Shaking off the memory, he carefully cleans and wraps the brush, then goes to dispose of the acid that hadn't met with approval-
"Yao-ge, here! You have to try the way they roast duck at this stall!"
He shudders and hurries to finish, almost fleeing the room.
He barely stops at the desk in his workshop to leave the brush as a reminder to start working on new batches of the acid later, then goes and curls up on the bed he'd had put in for the times he was too busy to go back and forth to his regular quarters.
Even with almost everything in the Nightless City, and the "interrogation" area of the prison especially, being powered by fire, the room feels cold.
"Aa, you need more blankets," chides the back of his mind. "Let's go get you some!"
He squeezes his eyes shut, but sleep never comes, and after a long while of trying, he gives up and rolls to his feet with a huff of irritation.
"That's no good, you'll end up passing out on your paperwork if you don't get some rest."
"Hush," he mutters to no one, and is immediately glad that there was no one.
Last thing he needs is for anyone to hear him talking to himself. There are too many who are all too eager to get someone else in trouble if it might save themselves-
"Including you," growls a different voice in his head, one he wants even less to be hearing.
Fuck.
He doesn't want to eat, not with the smell of the acid burns still lingering in his nose, but he makes his way to the kitchen that feeds the prisoners and guards anyway. If nothing else, he can at least grab some juice or wine or water or something to use for a sleeping draught. He'll even use vinegar at this point.
Heading inside, he bumps into a servant coming out one of the side doors, who mumbles a quick apology before fleeing, never looking up from the tray they were carrying.
As he closes the door behind him, he hears them collide with a guard, followed by another apology and the sound of an annoyed grunt and a dismissive shove.
The cooking of the bland congee the prisoners get doesn't bother him, but the smell of the meat for the guards makes his stomach threaten to knot up again. He barely takes enough time to make sure the small jar he takes is something palatable, then returns to his room.
---
He wakes curled up on the bed in his workroom the next morning, groggy enough that it takes him awhile to actually get up, but glad to have spent a night blessedly free of everything but darkness and silence.
And since his sect leader wanted him to perfect the acid before using it on a prisoner again, and there is to be a war strategy meeting that afternoon that he'll have to take notes for, it means he has at least one day where he won't have to be assisting in the torture chambers.
Then, just as he has started the fires under the small pots he'll be putting the test batches in, a runner comes to tell him there's been an escape from the cells.
When he finds out which prisoner, the shock makes him start laughing.
"Yao-ge, I trust you, so I'll show you something cool. Watch this!"
The first gift was not that unusual; while generally the cultivation world thought Nie Huaisang was an idiot, the smaller clans liked to think that he was a naive idiot, who could be bribed. So, when a servant delivered it with an awkward bow, he accepted it with an eye-roll. It was a pretty, delicate jade carving of a bird in flight, which, while beautiful, it was really puzzling.
Gifts were not uncommon. Pretty gifts that fit his taste were.
“Da-ge, who sent this?” he asked, deep in thought, showing the carving to Nie Mingjue. He should have probably known which clan wanted to marry into the Nie Clan, or wanted some kind of protection or financial gain.
Nie Mingjue glanced at the bird and shrugged nonchalantly. “No idea, Huaisang. Maybe someone who appreciates your love of birds.”
Nie Huaisang huffed. He saw that little smirk, but when his brother had a secret, he could keep it. It was exasperating.
The next gift came three days later: a set of exquisite paintbrushes made from the finest materials, perfect for the painting he was working on. Nie Huaisang found them on his desk, each brush laid out with precision, from the smallest, most delicate one to the biggest, sturdiest one. This time, a small note accompanied the gift, written in elegant script: For your art.
For his art.
FOR HIS ART?!
Was that da-ge playing pranks on him, or what?!
“Dage!” Nie Huaisang yelled, storming into his brother’s room, where the older man was calmly working on some reports. “Did you see these?”
Nie Mingjue looked up from his paperwork, raising an eyebrow. “I did. Nice brushes.”
Nice- “Nice brushes?” Nie Huaisang echoed incredulously, his voice getting louder and louder. “This is the second gift in a week! They are expensive gifts! These are-!”
He was working himself up for nothing, he knew, but… He always wanted to be the mysterious one - not the clueless one!
“Why don’t you just enjoy the gifts, Huaisang?” Nie Mingjue suggested calmly. He clearly knew something that Nie Huaisang didn't, and it was making the situation even more maddening. “It’s not every day someone shows such interest in you.”
Nie Huaisang huffed, but he couldn't deny that the brushes were excellent. Nor that it wasn't an everyday occurrence that his interests were seen.
He was seen.
As the days passed, the gifts kept arriving. They were from someone who knew him, as all of them were clearly made with him in mind. Which was even more baffling, as noone from the Nie Clan appreciated the softer him, and noone bothered to get to know him from outside of the clan. Yet, the gifts kept coming, always luxurious and decadent. A silk fan embroidered with intricate designs, a rare book on bird species, a set of fine teaset… Each gift thoughtful and perfectly suited to his tastes.
Was it surprising that every new arrival only deepened Nie Huaisang’s confusion and annoyance?! He just couldn't stand not knowing something so important.
“Dage, this is getting ridiculous,” he whined one afternoon, holding up a beautiful inkstone carved with phoenix motifs. “Someone is obviously trying to get on your good side by flattering me. Why else would they bother to send so many beautiful thing to me?”
Nie Mingjue looked at him with amusement and loving irritation. “Why indeed… It’s clear that whoever this is knows you well. Isn’t that a good thing? They know your interests, and not only acknowledge them, but they are indulging you. Maybe I should stop them just to avoid them spoiling you rotten,” he joked.
Nie Huaisang hissed, “Don't you dare!” and hugged the gorgeous inkstone. “But seriously… I just don't get it.”
Nie Mingjue looked at him with sadness in his eyes. “I messed up so much, didn't I? That when someone so clearly appreciates your talents, instead of feeling flatteresd, you become paranoid. I'm sorry, A-Sang.”
Not knowing what to say, Nie Huaisang Just hugged his brother tight. They were far from complete understanding, but they learned how to compromise and how to listen to each other, which was even better.
“Just enjoy it, okay?” Nie Mingjue asked. Choked off, the younger man nodded, hiding his face into his brother's neck.
-
After some time, the arrival of gifts became a regular occurrence. At first, they arrived twice a week, then once a day, their frequency steadily increasing. Nie Huaisang still didn't know who they were coming from. He tried to enjoy them, as Nie Mingjue advised him, bu not knowing drove him insane. It was frustrating!
Sure, despite his complaints, he couldn’t help but appreciate the gifts, spending hours reading the rare book, or savoring the exotic teas. But the mystery of the sender gnawed at him. The gifts were clearly from someone attempting to curry favor with the Nies through their "naive" younger son or court him under the assumption that Nie Mingjue would not refuse them. And that was clearly a good assumption, as Nie Mingjue accepted them with an amused expression, content that someone was courting his didi.
One morning, a particularly extravagant gift arrived - a stunning birdcage crafted from silver and adorned with tiny, colorful gemstones that sparkled in the light. It was gorgeous. It was more expensive than any of the previous gifts combined.
Inside, a note, stating: For the birds you love so much.
Nie Huaisang’s patience finally snapped. “That’s it!” he yelled, storming into Nie Mingjue’s quarters. “What the hell, da-ge?! How and why can some unknown creep know that I love light novels, and enjoy painting and adore birds and-”
He froze mid-rant.
Oh.
“Oh,” he said softly.
His brother’s smug expression grew even more smug. The sneaky menace!
Nie Huaisang huffed, then sharply inhaled. “Is it from…?” he asked hesitantly, biting into his lip.
Nie Mingjue’s smile grew wider, his eyes twinkling with giddy satisfaction. “Yes, Huaisang. The gifts are from him.”
“Oh,” Nie Huaisang repeated, his voice full of wonder and disbelief. “Jin Guangyao?”
Nie Mingjue nodded, stepping forward to place a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Yes. The gifts are from him. He cares about you, Huaisang. He’s not just some unknown creep. He’s someone who knows you and wants to be part of your life.”
Nie Huaisang felt a rush of emotions. Relief, amazement… and something deeper, more tender. He looked up at his brother, his eyes shining with tears. “But why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
Nie Mingjue chuckled, stepping forward to put a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder. “I wanted you to realize it on your own. Besides, it’s more fun this way.”
The sneaky menace.
Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’re insufferable, da-ge. Evil and cruel and I can't believe you did this to your sweet, lovely little didi!”
“I know and I'm not sorry, not even a little bit,” Nie Mingjue replied, his deadpan tone couldn't hide his affection. “But you love me anyway.”
Nie Huaisang laughed, the tension he had accumolated throughout the weeks leaving his body. He glanced down at the birdcage again, his heart full of unsaid emotions. “Do you think I should write to him? Thank him? Maybe I should visit him, or invite him here?”
Nie Mingjue nodded, “Write to him. You can invite him - after all, he has to get used to the Unclean Realm if he wants to permanently move here...”
“I'm leaving!” Nie Huaisang grimaced towards his brother, embarrassed at his insinuation. (Embarrassed and hopeful. He wanted that so bad.)
As he turned to march back to his quarters, the birdcage still in hand, he felt lighter than he had in weeks.
Qinghe is burnt down instead of the cloud Recesses and MY rescues NHS instead of LXC
I'm going to combine this with your other one:
"Free day: NHS and MY are both captured by the Wen during the Sunshot Campaign"
because they kinda fit together into a neat little timeline.
------------
"Let him go! He didn't know anything!"
Frozen at the point of a sword, Meng Yao could only stare as his traveling companion -and the target of the raiding party- angrily, desperately tried to argue for his life.
It had only been a month and a half since he'd turned north after his humiliating visit to Koi Tower, following rumors that, of all the sects, the Nie Sect of Qinghe was his best bet for actually becoming a cultivator instead of a mere grunt.
It had only been a month since he'd reached the Unclean Realms only to find their sect leader and most combat capable residents clashing with an invasion party as the half of the buildings that weren't made of stone burned around them in a tableau of chaos.
Since he'd gotten swept up among the evacuees as they scattered to take refuge among the trees they, apparently mostly locals, knew better than their attackers.
One of them, a stranger his size mostly shrouded in a heavy hooded cloak, had jerked him out of the way of a horse's charge, only for the bank to give way under them and send them tumbling into the river.
He had popped out of the water immediately, but his rescuer had much more trouble, the cloak that had kept him hidden now threatening to drag him under thanks to all the extra weight it had soaked up. Without thinking, he'd gone for the only blade he'd had on him, a small knife, and cut the laces holding the hood closed so they could get away and find a place to hide.
It had only been three and a half weeks since he'd learned the identity of the stranger, the exchanging of pleasantries held off until they were sure they were -at least relatively- safe.
Since he'd learned he had, however accidentally, rescued the actual little brother of the Nie sect leader, a boy two years younger than himself and more than a little agitated about the fates of his kin and friends.
Who had, without any suspicion or hesitation, handed him more silver than his mother made in a month in gratitude for the rescue and tried to smile and promise he'd be fine even as tears streamed down his face.
And was now trying to claim they had nothing to do with each other besides meeting on the road to Yunping by chance.
It had technically been true a month ago, but the Wen cultivators didn't seem to care about truth, nor technicalities, nor anything of the sort. They just cared about whatever hostage situation they could make out of Nie Huaisang, and he was nothing more than a worthless bonus.
"Just throw him in, too, if it'll shut the little bitch up."
The sword pointed at his throat moved away, so at least he wasn't going to die yet... though the little wooden cage in the back of a wagon he was tossed into wasn't a whole lot better, the two of them stuck curled up back to back to fit.
As the wagon started to move, a trembling hand took hold of his.
"Sorry," Nie Huaisang murmured too quietly for the Wen cultivators to hear over the wagon wheels. "You should have just taken the silver and left me."
Meng Yao closed his eyes and swallowed hard, then laced his fingers with the other boy's and squeezed. He couldn't give much more answer than that, unsure of what to say, but it seemed to be enough.
There was nothing else to do but hope they'd get out of this; that one month of fear and furtive travel from one hiding place to another wouldn't end up being all they knew of each other.
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Back home, it took no time to get used to everything. Hah, no. Nie Huaisang's mood was dark, he missed his friend, he hated the renewed expectations and not even his birds could cheer him up. His usual carefree demeanor was replaced by bitterness. He promised that he was going to behave more responsibly, and he would take things seriously, so he performed the tasks with spiteful determination. But he wasn't happy. Not by far.
His thoughts were constantly drifting back to Meng Yao and Jin Guangyao. He was always thinking about him, which irritated him almost as much as saber practice did, which was pretty telling. Jin Guangyao decided; Nie Huaisang had life outside of him. Then why did it feel like that the then Meng Yao made home in Nie Huaisang's thoughts?!
"I just don't understand," Nie Huaisang grunted to himself, frustration coloring his tone. “I don't know. I don't know anything at all…”
His thoughts churned as he completed his tasks, his mind filled with images of Jin Guangyao’s past, present and future struggles and the cold reception he had received in Lanling. The more he thought about it, the more it hurt. If Meng Yao had stayed with them, he would have been respected and valued. Even his Da-ge had to admit that he did a great job against the saber spirits!
Everything felt… off. Wrong. Empty. He didn't even have energy to complain anymore. He just wanted his friend back. (Which, admittedly, didn't sound healthy, but he didn't care. He just wished Meng Yao stayed with him.)
He could have even become his husband, if he wanted to join a family! After all, it was much better to become the husband of the heir to a clan, than to be accepted as the bastard son who wasn't even the spare.
It was frustrating. But Nie Huaisang worked on accepting it. (It was harder than saber practice with his demanding and ruthless Da-ge.)
Days turned into weeks, and Nie Huaisang's mood showed no sign of improving. He was determined to prove himself, not as the mini Nie Mingjue, but as a more competent Nie Huaisang. But no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of Jin Guangyao continued to haunt him. As he went about his duties, he couldn't shake the feeling of loss. And yet, despite his bitterness, Nie Huaisang couldn't help but hope that his friend would find a way to prove his worth, even in the hostile environment of Lanling. Nie Huaisang was sure that if there was such person, it was definitely his friend who would be able to do that. He was smart and resourceful, determined and objectively amazing.
While his emotions towards Jin Guangyao were quite distracting, the responsibilities he had been running from for his whole life seemed to be determined to drown him. Every task, every training and lesson felt like a mountain to climb. His father’s and brother's legacies, the clan’s expectations, and his own feeling of inadequacy all mixed into a crushing burden. He spent hours in the library, poring over ancient manuscripts, most of the time not out of genuine interest, but out of a desperate need to distract himself from his spiraling thoughts.
He attended every training session, engaged more actively in clan meetings, and tried to put his feelings behind him. He threw himself into his studies, focusing on strategy and planning, areas where he could be use. He started developing new techniques for the clan, to reduce the issues with saber cultivation, to mitigate the negative effects of their violent style.
Nie Huaisang’s transformation didn’t go unnoticed. The clan members began to see him in a new light, recognizing his contributions. And while nothing was easy, and each day felt like it was a challenge to even get up from his bed, it was good to be accepted.
this got pushed back due to health reasons, but I'm gonna try and have all chapters up at the end of this week latest :) it'll cover day 6: hard decisions/secrets and day 8: gift giving/hairbrushing as well later on <3
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Set in the Huli-Jing-Meng Yao forcibly adopted into the Nie household! Au
During a particularly hard winter Meng Yao is worried Huaisang might not make it. Humans are so frail sometimes.
(from this verse.)
"Yao-ge?"
His little master's voice was so weak, a human's ear wouldn't have caught it. But Meng Yao's ear flicked in the direction of the sleeping nest, then he opened his eyes and slipped down off the desk, shedding his fur and fangs as he crossed to the bundle of blankets and furs. "What can I get you, Sangsang?"
"'s'too heavy," Nie Huaisang wheezed, pushing weakly at the pile covering him. "Can't breathe."
Meng Yao frowned a little, then looked around the room. If he fed the censers first and used his own fur and warmth to compensate for the loss of some of the bedding, it was usually enough... But this year's snowstorms had been the worst he'd ever seen, and Huaisang's health had plummeted accordingly.
He didn't want his little master getting even sicker because he'd made a mistake in judgment.
At the same time, he didn't want his little master suffocating either.
Deciding that removing just a few blankets couldn't hurt as long as he didn't let Huaisang get chilled, he carefully folded them back off the other boy until he seemed to be breathing a little bit easier, then shifted back to his furred shape and slipped under the covers with him.
Nie Huaisang rolled onto his side to better cuddle him. "Thank you," his little master murmured, rubbing his cheek against the top of his head.
Meng Yao made a soothing, rumbly little whine as he nuzzled back, always happy for the affection even if his now-thicker winter coat made the bedding nest a little too warm for his tastes, but as Huaisang dozed off, his mood dipped. In the position they were in, his hear was partially pressed against his little master's chest, and the painful-sounding rasp deep in the human's chest every time he breathed in disturbed him.
Growing up not knowing what he was, he'd just thought he'd been exceptionally lucky not to ever get sick despite their living conditions. Especially not this sick.
Since learning the truth, since coming to the sect, he'd been thinking a lot more about human fragility and resilience.
About just how terrible an illness his mother must've had, for it to slowly but surely fell her, when his little master could come so close to death every winter and yet recover... almost as surely as the blooms of spring.
About whether his little master might be more like her than anyone was aware, and one year, he just... wouldn't recover.
His ears laying back in worry, Meng Yao snuggled even closer to Nie Huaisang, tucking himself into every bit of space until they were practically melded together. He drew on what little spiritual power he knew how to access to give extra heat to Huaisang, and was rewarded with another sleepy nuzzle that eased a little bit of his anxiety and strengthened his resolve.
For Day 6: how about a role swap au where NHS is a Jin bastard and JGY is a Nie? I feel like that could encompass many of the prompts.
I hope you feel better soon! Please take it easy, we'll still be here later. ❤️
Blanking out the mocking laughter as best he could, A-Sang quietly knelt down and pulled the rag from his belt to clean the food off the floor and collect the scattered golden dishes, inwardly hoping none of them were dented.
He still had bruises from the last time.
"Hey, brat, you forgot a cup," one of the disciples said, and experience made him immediately close his eyes to keep from getting wine in them when the cup was slapped upside down onto his head, earning more raucous laughter.
He took a shallow breath and let it back out; if he started coughing now, things would get worse before they got better.
"Now, now," a hatedly familiar voice said in all fake kindness as an equally hated large hand clapped down on the back of his neck with enough force that he almost started coughing anyway. "It's not the little cousin's fault he's so clumsy. If his mother had been from better stock-"
He didn't hear the rest of it over the wheeze in his chest and the humming that was building up in his ears.
It didn't matter whether he heard it or not anyway; the insults were always the same.
When he came back to himself, they had, to his relief, gotten bored of him and moved on to more entertaining things. Picking up the tray of dishes and sticking the filthy rag back in his belt to be exchanged at the kitchen, he made his escape.
Where he was reasonably sure most sects would probably pretend to treat their servants better when they had guests to impress, the inner disciples of his sect always made a point to spend the first day of any multi-day meeting reminding him just how low in the pecking order he was, lest he get any wild ideas like, say, talking to any of the guests.
As if he'd ever dare.
Gaze locked on the ground in front of him so that his hair hid his eyes from outside view, he turned a corner towards the kitchen, only to unexpectedly smack into someone.
Stumbling slightly, he tried to rebalance the tray before the couple of dishes that weren't-quite-empty could topple off, only to freeze in horror when they spilled on the other person's boots and the hems of their robes.
---
Nie Xunyao really hated visiting Koi Tower, and had since the first time he'd been brought along with his father and Da-ge. Everything about the place made his back teeth itch with the urge to bite the inside of his cheek, a bad habit he would have almost managed to give up just in time for another visit.
The only remotely tolerable thing about being stuck in this den of pompous assholes was Jin Zixuan, who at least tried to be sociable with him, and whose inability to do so managed to be endearing instead of annoying.
But Jin Zixuan had been dragged off by his mother for only the heavens knew what -probably so she'd have someone to complain about his father to again, given past experience- which had left him to make his way back to his guest room to bury himself in one of the books he'd brought along to stave off boredom until his brother called for him to come to the next meeting.
He'd been so lost in his annoyance that he hadn't heard someone coming from the hall crossways to the one he was traveling until they collided at the corner, a bowl and several other overly-opulent dishes tumbling from the servant's tray to crash loudly to the floor, splattering his clothes in the process.
The servant went statue-still, then dropped to his knees with a hiss of alarm and pressed his face to the floor.
"T-this one is sorry, gongzi! Please allow-"
Recovering his wits, Nie Xunyao crouched to pat the poor thing on the back before he could truly work himself into a panic.
"It's fine, it's fine, no harm done," he said soothingly, then involuntarily wrinkled his nose when his hand accidentally brushed the servant's messy hair and found it sticky and wet. Drawing his hand back, he surreptitiously waved it close to his face and caught the unmistakeable scent of plum wine.
Ah. Small wonder he was such a nervous wreck, if he'd already encountered such a punishment so recently.
Another reason he hated this place. True, servants were sometimes punished at home, but never for something so petty, and an honest mistake at that.
"Hey, come on now," he coaxed, drawing the servant out of his kowtow and up onto his knees proper. "It was an accident, nothing more. Nobody even has to know."
The servant, still visibly shaken, raised his head a little bit more.
Enough that Nie Xunyao could see the gold of his eyes through gaps in the raggedy curtain of hair.
He managed not to let his emotions show on his face, but inwardly, he was cursing.
One of the byblows.
Suddenly, everything about the servant's... everything was painfully clear.
Jin Guangshan's less than savory dalliances outside of his marriage, especially with servants or other lower class girls who couldn't exactly tell him no, was an open secret among the sect families. His brother -and his father, when he'd still been around- had spoken of the issue with disgust more than once, and while he'd kept his opinions to himself, he agreed.
There'd been rumors that some of the girls who'd gotten pregnant and hadn't managed to terminate in time had been forced to let the babies be taken and raised as future servants, so that their 'gracious' father could keep tabs on them.
He'd never asked Jin Zixuan about it, knowing he had enough to deal with from his father already.
But here, now-
The servant started to fidget, looking like he was about to grab the dishes and flee.
"Hold still for me for just a second?" Nie Xunyao asked.
The other boy -now that he was really looking, they didn't seem all that different in age or size, other than the fact that the servant was clearly underfed- flinched, but did as told.
Taking a handkerchief out of his sleeve, Nie Xunyao carefully tried to clean away some of the sticky wine, sweeping the servant's hair out of his face in the process.
His lip had a visible split, and there were deep shadows under his eyes, and his cheeks were a little gaunt, but he was still surprisingly pretty.
He flinched again when the cloth went near his left eye, and Nie Xunyao could see some faint bruising along with the exhaustion bags.
He pressed his lips thin, then smiled disarmingly. "Why don't you come with me to get cleaned up, hm?"
"Th- this one would not dare to-"
"What's your name?"
The servant blinked at him in wide-eyed surprise as if he'd grown two heads instead of having asked for something so small... or perhaps not so small to him. How many people actually called him by name here, to get that reaction.
"I- this one is Sang," he mumbled so quietly Nie Xunyao almost couldn't hear him.
"Just 'Sang'? Nothing else?"
A nod.
"...Okay, then, Sang-er. I'll help you get these dishes to the kitchen, then we can both wash up," Nie Xunyao said brightly, pulling back to pick up some of the dropped dishes.
In the corner of his eye, he saw Sang quietly mouth 'Sang-er' to himself, a blush blooming across his nose and cheeks.
He really was cuter than this place deserved, Nie Xunyao thought.
Maybe he'd bring it up with Da-ge after the afternoon's meetings.
Meng Yao never goes to Lanling because the madam finds some jin cultivator to burst that bubble (because of compassion or malice or secret third reason) with a bunch of stories of sect leader Jin.
Years later bookkeeper Meng Yao on his way home sees a wen carriage fall down over the edge of a path. He gets to the bottom, finding dead soldiers and a golden cage. A boy in a golden cage. Still alive.
Though the storm had ended by morning, he couldn't shake the ominous feeling that prickled up the back of his neck as he set out for home.
He hadn't wanted to come on this trip in the first place. He was a bookkeeper, not a delivery boy. But the brothel madam, tightfisted as ever, had threatened to dock his pay for the courier fees, and he couldn't afford that.
At least the kitchen staff had been nice enough to pack him a small bag, sparing him from having to buy food while he was out. He was down to his last package of buns, so he decided to wait until lunch to eat anything.
The first storm of spring always left the roads a mess, blowing down branches and trees that had been weakened by what winter weather they actually got and leaving the dirt paths thick with mud and standing puddles. He'd already almost lost a boot twice by the time he heard a horse in distress.
Rounding the next bend, he stopped, wide-eyed, when he found the source. A riderless horse was trying to free its harness and bridle from where they had tangled in a thick gnarled branch that was poking out of the mudslide that completely covered the road. Smashed wooden wheels and limbs of other horses -and people- were also visible, and the slide was wide enough and tall enough that there were probably more underneath.
Well. This... explained the uneasiness he'd been dealing with all morning.
Very, very slowly, he approached the horse, whistling a 'calm down' noise he'd sometimes heard the local farmers use and hoping for the best. It seemed to work, because while the beast kept snorting and stomping as it -she, he corrected himself- watched him warily, she made no attempt to bite or struggle while he untangled her from the branch.
Still holding the reins, but giving some slack so as not to spook his new friend, he began cautiously picking a path around the worst of the mudslide, since it was too unstable to go over.
Though everything was shattered or ripped or caked in blood, it quickly became evident that this hadn't just been a group of merchants or otherwise normal travelers, and his mounting dread was confirmed when he spotted a very familiar red sun on a saddlebag that had torn loose from its horse.
He'd seen Wen sect cultivators before. Some of them even showed up at the brothel every few weeks, despite it technically being in Jiang territory. But he'd never seen any this far southeast before, especially not in a caravan this heavily laden.
Despite himself, he couldn't help wondering what could possibly have drawn them-
As if to answer his question, the clouds that had been hanging overhead all morning shifted just enough for a little bit of sunlight to glint off something metallic.
He shouldn't go see what it was.
He shouldn't- damn.
"Stay," he ordered the horse, and immediately felt stupid for doing so. But he didn't know what other command to give her, and besides, the horse seemed to obey, only fidgeting a bit and continuing to keep her ears laid back as he left her behind to investigate.
Pushing a broken panel of what had been part of a carriage out of the way, he was stunned to find a cage.
An actual cage. He couldn't tell immediately whether it was merely gilded or made of gold, but it was still a cage.
With a person in it.
What kind of creepy-
He jumped in surprise when the small figure curled in a defensive ball made a noise.
Recovering from the sudden scare, he reached through the widest gap he could see between the warped bars and pressed two fingers to the stranger's neck-
-and sucked in a sharp breath when he found a pulse.
Okay. Now he had a horse and a survivor.
A survivor who was being kept in an actual fucking gold cage by Wen sect cultivators.
Through the mud, he could see that the captive's clothing had at some point been green and silver, and was of high quality make.
Green and silver... green and silver... Why did that combination sound familiar?
...Wait...
This was getting more confusing and alarming all the time. Wen sect cultivators in a place they shouldn't be, transporting someone from the Nie sect in secret, in an elaborate yet clearly not just decorative cage? They weren't anywhere near the straightest path between the Nie and Wen sects either, which meant this wasn't something meant to be seen by anyone, and probably wouldn't have been had the weather not completely screwed them over.
The realization that he'd very likely just stumbled on a fucking kidnapping made him dizzy enough he had to find a somewhat stable part of the busted carriage to sit down on.
And, of course, the next question was... now what?
The simplest, most logical answer was to return the way he'd come and report what had happened. It was the shortest distance and would bring the quickest help.
But what if the captive died before anyone got back? Or someone decided he'd seen too much and killed him as soon as he reported?
He could take the captive with him... but that posed its own risks. Again, he didn't know how injured they were, or who might be waiting on the path for the Wen contingent to arrive.
There was... always the option to just leave. Go home, say nothing. Let it be someone else's problem.
But...
He looked down at the unconscious captive. Boy or girl, he couldn't quite tell just from what he could see, but they looked young. Younger than him, even. And evidently, they were someone important to their sect.
If he could get them somewhere unnoticeable, send a message directly to one of the sects...
Obviously, the Wen sect wanted them. But he'd heard enough about Wen Ruohan and his unstable temper to know it was probably suicide to contact him. He might even, however illogical it would be, blamed for the deaths of the cultivators who'd been doing the transport, and then he was still as good as dead.
Five years ago, he might have tried sending word to his father. The other sects were... supposed to be on fairly friendly terms; it would have been a way to get his father's attention, prove he could be dutiful and heroic and worthy of being brought into the fold.
Now, he knew that was as laughable as contacting Wen Ruohan with the expectation of a reward.
Given their current location, that left the Jiang or the captive's home sect, the Nie. The Jiang were certainly the closer between the two, but... If he contacted the Nie directly, there was less risk of having to give up credit for the unorthodox rescue.
A little wheezing cough drew him out of his mental debate, and he looked down to find the captive had curled into an even smaller ball and was shivering.
Ah. All that mud and water, and the weather hadn't completely warmed into spring yet-
The cage must have been made of real gold, because the bars bent easily under even his meager strength. One piece even snapped free, and he couldn't resist tucking it away into his bag.
Even if he didn't get a monetary reward for getting this little Nie home, that one piece, if melted down, would have been enough to buy his way out of the madam's hands by itself.
When his hand brushed the captive's face, they tried to nuzzle into his palm like a lost kitten seeking warmth, and he had to swallow down a sudden flutter in his chest.
Okay. Okay... okay. Focus.
Despite being soaking wet and dead weight, the captive was surprisingly easy to pull out and onto his back. Keeping his balance in the mud with that weight proved a lot more difficult, though, and he nearly slipped onto his face more than once before finally making it back to the horse.
Now, then.
To find a safe place to hide and send a message to the Nie sect leader.
And hope to the heavens that this wasn't going to just blow up in his face.
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Upon arriving, it took less time than expected to be escorted to the grand halls covered in gold. It was most likely thanks to Nie Mingjue, who had never been famous for his patience. The opulence of the Jin residence was overwhelming, with golden decorations and luxurious tapestries adorning every corner. And frankly , it was kind of nauseating, if Nie Huaisang wanted to admit it. He loved luxury, but there was such a thing as “too much”. And the Jins exceeded it by far.
As they entered, all eyes turned towards them, curiosity and suspicion on their faces. Meng Yao looked like he was going to be sick, but Nie Huaisang gently nudged him.
It was going to be okay.
Nie Mingjue stepped forward, his imposing presence commanding attention. "I am here to introduce Meng Yao, the son of Jin Guangshan," he announced, his voice resonating through the hall.
Did Nie Huaisang say that everything's going to be okay? He obviously meant that everything's going to be NOT okay. What the hell, Da-ge?! You can't just say something like that, like this!
“Da-ge!” He hissed from behind his fan he needed to use to hide his face behind. But the damage was already done.
This was why subtle things were always his tasks and not his brother's. His direct and honest ways of dealing things was a proof for his righteousness, but was not the proof of being politically gifted.
Maybe there were some things Nie Huaisang could help with without needing to become his brother.
Whispers spread like wildfire among the people, a mixture of feigned disbelief and disdain. Nie Huaisang suspected, it wasn't directed at the real dirtbag, their Clan Leader, but at Meng Yao for appearing, and Nie Mingjue for bringing him here like this. Nie Huaisang wanted nothing more than kidnap his friend and keep him away from this place.
But he didn't. He could be a good friend, even if he was clearly making a mistake. Meng Yao had to experience things to learn from, the same way Nie Huaisang had to.
Jin Guangshan himself, seated at the head of the room like the Emperor himself, regarded Meng Yao with a carefully controlled expression that hid way too many emotions that Nie Huaisang couldn't decipher. After a tense silence, he rose and approached them.
“There are many who claim such thing, but I'm sure the honorable Red Blade Master verified this claim. It is quite a surprise to learn of another son," Jin Guangshan said, his tone measured, coated by honey. Like a sweet poison. "But as a member of the Jin family, he will be welcomed with open arms."
Open arms. Sure. He didn't look at Meng Yao, not even once. Nie Huaisang felt that the only reason Jin Guangshan didn't throw his new son out was Nie Mingjue. It would surely be a political nightmare.
"From now on, he will be known as Jin Guangyao,” added the Jin leader pompously.
Jin-
Jin GUANGyao?!
He should be Jin Ziyao!
But before he could say that out loud, Meng Yao bowed deeply, gratitude and apprehension mixing in his eyes. "This one is thankful for Clan Leader Jin," he said softly.
Despite the formal “welcome”, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken animosity. The clan members' gazes were cold, and Nie Huaisang could feel their hostility towards Meng- the newly named Jin Guangyao.
Unfortunately, the following days were filled with not less, but more veiled insults and blatant exclusion. But when Nie Huaisang tried to talk about it with his friend, to coax him to Qinghe, Jin Guangyao bore it all with a quiet determination.
“A-Sang, I need to do this,” he said every time. Said A-Sang hated it, but what else could he do about it than letting it go.
A few days later, quicker than he wanted, the time came for Nie Huaisang and Meng Yao - Jin Guangyao - to say their goodbyes.
The golden courtyard full of blooming flowers was a stark contrast to the somber mood hanging in the air. The pinkish yellow hues of the setting sun painted the surroundings with a warm glow, but that was the only warmth in the palace and its surroundings. It still felt like a mistake to leave his friend this place, but…
It was Jin Guangyao’s wish.
Nie Huaisang stood awkwardly by his brother’s side, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his fan clutched tightly in his hand. M- Jin Guangyao stood a few paces away, his expression calm and composed, yet his eyes showed deep sadness. The Jin disciples and Nie clan members were busy around them, preparing for the Nie brothers' departure, but the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them.
“Huaisang,” Guangyao began, his voice soft yet steady, as if he was talking to a spooked little animal. “I suppose this is it.”
Would that be a political suicide if Nie Huaisang kidnapped his friend?!
Nie Huaisang swallowed hard, his throat tight with barely kept back emotions. “It doesn’t have to be,” he replied, a hint of desperation in his voice. One last try. He had to take this one last chance. “You could come back with us. You don’t have to stay here.”
Jin Guangyao shook his head, a sad, yet determined smile playing on his lips. “You know I can’t do that. This is my chance to start my dream, even if it’s not the easiest path. I have to see it through.”
Nie Huaisang sighed, whispering with a barely audible voice, “I know. But it feels like I’m losing you,” he added, not sure if he wished his A-Yao could hear it or not.
Jin Guangyao stepped closer, his gaze locked onto Nie Huaisang’s. “You’re not losing me,” he stated firmly. “No matter where I am, you’re my friend, my- my partner. That won’t change.”
The Nie heir had to bit into his lips to stop them from trembling. His heart ached, but he could do this. He could say goodbye without losing face for both of them.
“You’ll be alright, won’t you?” he asked with a slight smile. Nie Huaisang trusted his friend to take care of himself, but he had to be sure.
Jin Guangyao’s smile widened, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll be fine. I’m stronger than I look, remember?” A slight mischief replaced the careful blankness, “And besides, I have you rooting for me.”
Nie Huaisang laughed softly, despite the lump in his throat. “Of course. Always.”
There was a brief pause, filled with the unspoken words, but at last, Jin Guangyao spoke again. “Take care of yourself, Huaisang.”
“I will,” Nie Huaisang promised. “And you... you take care too.” His words felt too little, too meaningless, but they were out in the open courtyard. This farewell was already too compromising, he didn't want to make it harder for Jin Guangyao.
“Well, we should go,” Nie Huaisang admitted reluctantly, turning towards his brother.
“If there is anything we can do to help you, don't be hesitant to reach out,” Nie Mingjue said in a gruff, yet genuine tone.
“This one is thankful,” Jin Guangyao bowed. “We’ll see each other again, Nie Huaisang. I’m sure of it.”
With one last, lingering look, Nie Huaisang turned, forcing himself to keep moving, even though every step felt like it was the hardest thing he'd ever done, to leave his friend in the den of a hundred famished lions. Harder than any saber practice, harder than running away from his home. But he could do it.
He had to do it.
As he stepped on his saber, preparing to depart, he glanced back one last time.
His friend stood there, watching them leave, his posture proud and rigid. He raised a hand in farewell, and Nie Huaisang mirrored the gesture.
It was not a final goodbye - but it sure felt like one.
