#dead spaces

“Of course, da-ge,” he said with a practiced smile. “Is there a problem?”

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, somehow, impossibly, even stiffer than before. “No, I just – I meant – with Jin Zixuan’s death. It must have made it – hard. Here. For you.”

That was a staggeringly perceptive insight, and the fact that it came from Nie Mingjue, who thought ignoring rumors until they went away was a valid strategy, was something of an uncomfortable surprise. Even Lan Xichen hadn’t really thought of Jin Guangyao in the aftermath of Jin Zixuan’s death and the ensuing calamity, with the Nightless City and Wei Wuxian’s final downfall and everything with Lan Wangji taking away his attention; at best, he’d penned a careless letter belatedly expressing that he was sad that Jin Guangyao hadn’t had more of an opportunity to get to know Jin Zixuan better before his untimely demise.

Not even Su She had said anything, taking Jin Zixuan’s death as an unmitigated good – an obstacle out of their way, and nothing more. Easy enough for him to think as sect leader of his own sect, however small.

Not so easy for Jin Guangyao.

Not so easy when Madame Jin’s dislike of him had turned to full-blown maddened hatred, when his father looked at him like filth on his shoe, when they wouldn’t let him anywhere near Jin Ling as if his mere touch were some sort of toxic poison…

“…thank you,” he said cautiously. “I’ve been doing fine.”

Nie Mingjue jerked his head in a nod. “Avoid the sect elders for a time,” he said, and when Jin Guangyao looked at him, he was staring straight ahead, not looking at him at all. “Be careful with what you eat and drink. Some people don’t like to take chances.”

Was Nie Mingjue – Nie Mingjue – warning him about a possible assassination attempt? The man who had barely consented to using spies during wartime, who thought politics could be conducted through above-board dealings, who thought bribery and blackmail were unacceptable crimes? Him?

The world had truly turned upside down.

“I’ll be careful,” Jin Guangyao said, and found to his embarrassment that his tone had unconsciously softened, revealing the sudden fondness he was feeling for no good reason. He could rationalize it as a deliberate move, because allowing Nie Mingjue to do him a favor and sounding touched about it was a good way to get closer to him, to get back through those iron defenses of his. The problem was that it wasn’t a stratagem, not really, and that was dangerous.

Nie Mingjue nodded again, and Jin Guangyao expected him to move on – he and Nie Mingjue might be sworn brothers, but they didn’t chat – but he didn’t. He lingered, instead, clearly wanting to say something, something he was chewing over and not quite able to spit out.

Unusual, for someone who normally prided himself on being straightforward and direct.

“Is there something else?” Jin Guangyao eventually asked when Nie Mingjue didn’t seem to be actually making any progress towards saying anything.

Nie Mingjue grimaced and took a step – off to the side, to a corner of the path that was a little more secluded than most. Interestingly, he didn’t make the amateur mistake of going for one of the obviously secluded alcoves, which of course had all sorts of hiding-holes for eavesdroppers, but rather ended up in one of the few areas where the architecture created a natural dead space for sound.

Intrigued, Jin Guangyao followed him there.

Once they were there, Nie Mingjue still looked awkward – he was still refusing to look directly at Jin Guangyao, as if they wouldn’t be talking in hushed tones in a secluded corner if he didn’t admit that that was what they were doing – but finally said, “Would it help or hurt if I said anything?”

Jin Guangyao frowned a little, not following. “Said anything?”

“About the inheritance,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jin Guangyao’s eyes widened. “You’re the only recognized son left; you ought to be named heir until Jin Ling is full grown. But that doesn’t mean people will let that happen so easily.”

Jin Guangyao would have been less surprised if Wen Ruohan had spontaneously resurrected himself from the dead and performed a brothel fan dance on the front lawn of Jinlin Tower.

It had not even remotely entered his calculations that Nie Mingjue would be anything but an obstacle to his ambitions for power over the Lanling Jin sect – at best, he had hoped only that Nie Mingjue would be convinced that Jin Zixuan’s death was wholly Wei Wuxian’s fault and not find some way to blame Jin Guangyao for it, and that he wouldn’t immediately suspect that Jin Guangyao of scheming to kill Jin Ling and take the whole thing for himself.

He’d never dreamed that Nie Mingjue might think that he deserved it.

“I’ll support you, of course,” Nie Mingjue said, as if it were obvious, when it was the least obvious thing that had ever happened in Jin Guangyao’s life. “But I’m not actually any good at this sort of thing, you know – playing politics with the internal affairs of other sects. I don’t want to make things worse for you just because I don’t know what the right approach is, especially not here.”

Jin Guangyao stared at him.

Nie Mingjue, not hearing a response, glanced at him and scowled. Lowering his voice still more, he said, “Think on it carefully. Sect Leader Jin hates me personally, but my Nie sect isn’t nothing, not even in Lanling. It’s still more so after the war, after all those battles I won to save the Jin sect’s rotten – that is, after everything I did to help. Even if your father doesn’t like it, he still has to give my sect face, and his sect elders know it. You’re a war hero, and my sworn brother; if a public stand on my part would help make things easier for you…”

“I’ll think on it carefully,” Jin Guangyao assured him, his mind already racing over the possibilities. Nie Mingjue underestimated himself – he wasn’t just a war hero, he was the war hero, the righteous and unyielding war god that had won an impossible war for the rest of them. He was Jin Guangshan’s chief rival for the position of Chief Cultivator and he wasn’t even trying to get the position; he probably wanted nothing more than to go home to Qinghe and sleep for three months and yet practically every single sect leader that Jin Guangshan felt out on the subject invariably dropped his name as the possible alternative. Assuming he was serious, and Nie Mingjue was always serious, his public support would make it extremely tricky for Jin Guangshan to refuse to name Jin Guangyao as the official heir, even if he tried to claim that this was a private matter. The rest of the sect would force him to do it, even against his will.

Moreover, Lan Xichen would follow Nie Mingjue’s lead, or at least could be easily encouraged into doing so. He was so distracted with his brother, if Jin Guangyao went to him and pointed out that Nie Mingjue thought it was a good idea to stand behind him…no, he wouldn’t even need to do that. Everyone knew how much better his relationship with Lan Xichen was in comparison to Nie Mingjue; if Nie Mingjue stood behind him, everyone would assume that Lan Xichen did as well, and then he would have two of the remaining Great Sects backing his right to inherit – even if only in the interim – the seat of power for Lanling Jin, as the only recognized son…

Except, of course, Jin Guangshan had already accounted for that.

Jin Guangyao’s eyes flickered. Perhaps there was a way to test Nie Mingjue’s sincerity.

“There is one issue,” he said, and Nie Mingjue turned his head to look at him directly. “My father has – decided to bring home another son.”

Nie Mingjue stared at him. “Another son?”

“From a minor noble family of commoners –”

“He brought one home now?” Nie Mingjue said, and he sounded angry. He always sounded angry, but this time he sounded angry on Jin Guangyao’s behalf, something he hadn’t been since Langya, since Qinghe, and it thrilled Jin Guangyao’s heart to hear it. He’d always secretly enjoyed having someone as physically and politically strong as Nie Mingjue in his corner, the power of it going to his head; it was even more so now, when he was finally in a position where he could really use it. “That’s a deliberate insult to you, and for what? Some untried boy…”

One who isn’t the son of a prostitute, Jin Guangyao thought, but of course Nie Mingjue wouldn’t think about it that way. He never had, not from the beginning.

“Father is of course within his rights to bring home whoever he wishes, for the best interest of the sect,” he said diplomatically, and Nie Mingjue huffed and rolled his eyes. “Da-ge…”

“It doesn’t change anything,” Nie Mingjue said curtly. “Think on it, and tell me what you want me to do.”

With that he turned away and strode off towards the main hall, a scowl firmly on his face.

Jin Guangyao watched him go, pleased – Nie Mingjue was really too easy to manipulate, if you knew him well enough. He’d keep quiet during the opening ceremony of the conference, but if he was really sincere about standing up for Jin Guangyao’s right to inherit, there would be no way he’d be able to refrain from expressing his views to Jin Guangshan at some point later that evening.

Sure enough, Nie Mingjue seethed throughout most of the complex and beautiful ceremony Jin Guangyao had arranged to show off Lanling Jin’s wealth and strength and taste – all wasted on him, naturally, so Jin Guangyao didn’t take any offense – and through dinner as well, and afterwards found a reason to make his way over to Jin Guangshan. After a few words, they both retreated to one of the receiving rooms.

Jin Guangyao made his excuses very shortly thereafter and slipped away: the receiving rooms, at least, were not dead spaces, and he knew all the ways to listen in there.

By the time he arrived, they were already arguing.

“ – what business of yours?” Jin Guangshan was snarling. “These are my private family matters!”

“He is my sworn brother,” Nie Mingjue said in return, his voice stiff as always. It was interesting to Jin Guangyao that he still didn’t seem happy about admitting that fact; he was still resentful of Jin Guangyao, still suspicious, and yet he supported him regardless, just because he thought it was his right. Ah, the foolishness of good people! “When you refuse to give him face, that becomes my business.”

Jin Guangshan spat, audibly. Jin Guangyao, still carefully moving into a position where he could see as well as hear, hoped he’d aimed it at the floor and not at Nie Mingjue’s face.

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” Jin Guangshan said. “I suppose I really shouldn’t be so surprised to find you supporting him, should I?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nie Mingjue demanded, and Jin Guangyao wondered the same.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Jin Guangshan said. Jin Guangyao had never heard his father sound so cruel – and he had quite a bit to compare it to. “They do say like calls to like, don’t they?”

Jin Guangyao had just finally gotten into view position, which meant he was just in time to see all the blood drain out of Nie Mingjue’s face as if he’d just been stabbed.

“You may have won some merit,” Jin Guangshan said, and he was smirking now. “But they do say blood always tells – or did you think that people would forget that it’s your brother that’s the true-born son, and you merely a concubine’s get?”

He was what?

Nie Mingjue was –

It was impossible. Surely, it was impossible.

And yet Nie Mingjue was not denying Jin Guangshan’s words, was not getting angry at the slander, was standing there stiff-backed and grim-faced –

“I still remember how disappointed your father was when his beautiful, beloved, delicate wife couldn’t get a pregnancy to last the term,” Jin Guangshan said, picking up one of the jars of wine and taking a swig. “He didn’t want to take a concubine at all, thought it’d be disrespectful to his wife, but what could he do? He was the sole heir, with an obligation to continue his lineage…they bought your mother for the breeding, like bringing in a cow for the farmyard bull.”

He laughed.

Nie Mingjue said nothing.

“Healthy, I think he said about her. Healthy and big, good hips for bearing children, good tits to nurse them – that was all he cared about, squeezing a few sons out of her, and she didn’t even manage that. Ran away after the first one, didn’t she? You ever figure out where she went, whether she ended up married to some dumb farmer as illiterate as her, or else lying on her back in a brothel? Dead in a beggar’s grave somewhere, perhaps?”

Nie Mingjue said nothing.

“No, it’s no surprise: of course you’d back the little son of a whore for the position of rightful heir, as if letting him take it would help cover up for the way you stole your own brother’s –”

“Watch your words,” Nie Mingjue said, his heavy voice slicing through the air like a saber.

“Still pretending it wasn’t theft, then?” Jin Guangshan laughed again, pacing the room back and forth, prowling like some sort of beast. “You were supposed to step down when he was ready – you had to swear never to have children, never to marry, all so you could warm the sect leader seat until he was grown up and ready to take it himself. But a weakling wastrel like that, he’s never going to be ready, is he? Very clever of you. I bet your sect elders hadn’t thought of you getting around it like that.”

“You dare –”

“Oh, I dare! And I’d dare more, if you think you can push me around!” Jin Guangshan bared his teeth. “Let me tell you now, Sect Leader Nie, if you dare make a public statement of support for Guangyao, I’ll remind the whole world that you’re no better than him, that you ought to be one of the Nie sect’s servants, not its sect leader –”

“Go ahead.”

Jin Guangshan stopped.

“Go ahead,” Nie Mingjue said again, stepping forward, and Jin Guangyao had never actually seen him purposefully use his height against someone, wield it like a weapon to remind the other party which of them was the more terrifying. “I’ve already had half a dozen public arguments with Huaisang about the fact that he needs to take the role of Sect Leader; everyone in my sect knows that he’s the one who keeps refusing. Do you really think everyone is like you? Scrabbling for every scrap of power you can get, like a rat in the rubbish bin?”

Jin Guangshan took an involuntary step backwards as Nie Mingjue continued to advance.

“When there are those who speak against you, you must do so well that they have no choice but to shut their mouths,” Nie Mingjue said, and it was the very same words he had spoken in encouragement to Jin Guangyao, all those years ago when they had first met. At the time, and thereafter, Jin Guangyao had thought him naïve, of not knowing of which he spoke. “Tell me, Sect Leader Jin, if you go out and spew your poison to your sycophants, do you really think any but the most loyal and brainless will open their mouths to condemn me now? Now, when I’ve just won the cultivation world a war, when I saved Lanling Jin a dozen times or more? Do you really think people will remember my mother instead of my saber?”

“You’d be amazed what people remember,” Jin Guangshan said, even if his voice was weaker, more desperate than it had been before. Less mighty and more pathetic than before, as if Jin Guangyao were suddenly seeing him in a brand new light: seeing him as what he was, as a man who would never looked beyond a person’s birth, no matter what their merits. “In the end, public arguments or not, you were the one who raised Nie Huaisang, now a good-for-nothing, a waste, and you sit in his throne, managing his Nie sect. People will remember that! Your sect will still lose face, be dishonored!”

“Fine. Then I’ll just kill you,” Nie Mingjue said, and Jin Guangshan gaped at him. “Why not? You’re right. To protect my brother’s birthright, I vowed never to have children, never to marry; the only ambitions in my life were to allow Huaisang to live well as he grew older and to avenge my father, and I’ve accomplished both. Even if they execute me for your murder, what’s it to me? What will I have lost?”

Jin Guangshan’s mouth moved open and closed, mute in his shock, and Jin Guangyao couldn’t blame him.

Nie Mingjue’s lips twisted into a sneer of his own.

“For once in your life, Sect Leader Jin, just do the right thing,” he said, sounding tired, and Jin Guangyao felt something loosen inside of him that had gone inexplicably frozen and pained at the idea of Nie Mingjue breaking all those morals and principles he always seemed to hold so dear.

It was strange. Not a day earlier, Jin Guangyao would have sworn that he would’ve liked nothing more than to see Nie Mingjue pushed too far, forced down into the muck and mud that the rest of them trudged their way through, and now that he saw a hint of it, he’d never wanted anything less.

“Name Meng Yao your heir until Jin Ling is grown,” Nie Mingjue continued. “Reap the benefits of the alliance he brings with him and have us all honor you as an elder, if that’s what you want. But playing games like this…I’d say it’s beneath you, but I’d need a shovel to get that deep. So don’t think about it. Just do it. Or I’ll make you.”

He left, Jin Guangshan still gaping after him. It wasn’t long before he finally started moving, throwing around expensive teacups and furnishings and shouting for servants to bring him a drink and a whore, even though it was early; Jin Guangyao returned to the party, knowing there would be nothing more for him to learn, not when his father was in a mood like that.

Later that night, when the party was over and all cleaned up, he went to the quarters assigned for their guests from the Nie sect and was unsurprised to see a light still lit within the one assigned to the sect leader.

He knocked, and a familiar voice beckoned him to enter.

Nie Mingjue was dressed in a sleeping robe, but he was at his desk, writing a letter; he’d clearly been unable to sleep. He looked up when Jin Guangyao entered.

“What?” he asked, short and sharp and rude as always.

These days, Jin Guangyao usually planned out his encounters with Nie Mingjue in advance, hoping to minimize awkwardness and achieve his goals without too much of a scolding. He’d done that at the very beginning of knowing him, only to rapidly give up during his time at Qinghe – Nie Mingjue was both predictable and yet somehow an utter mystery, and it was easier to just go with the flow, adapt to the circumstances, than it was to plan in advance. Only after he’d left did he start planning once again.

He wasn’t planning now.

“Your mother,” he said, and Nie Mingjue barked a laugh, reaching up with a hand to rub at his eyes.

“Did your father tell you?” he asked. “Or did you just listen in?”

Jin Guangyao shrugged, and Nie Mingjue for once did not seem inclined to demand an answer.

“Is it true?” he asked instead, even though he already knew. “That she was…”

Like mine.

Not exactly like, of course. Jin Guangshan wouldn’t have hesitated to call Nie Mingjue the son of a whore directly if he thought he could get away with claiming it was merely fact, and had managed to imply as much nonetheless. Jin Guangyao’s mother’s shame could never be washed away, not in his lifetime; Nie Mingjue’s birth, being merely low, was not the same.

And yet.

“Oh, it’s true,” Nie Mingjue said mirthlessly. “Right down to the fact that they all but bought her based on how fertile she looked, for all that my father later pretended it wasn’t that, and the fact that she ran away.”

Jin Guangyao blinked. If he was playacting, he might have bitten his lip, averted his eyes, and he still considered doing it, but for the moment he was still feeling too off-balance to really commit to it. “Is she – still alive?”

Nie Mingjue shrugged.

“Have you looked for her?”

“I’ve been sect leader for over a decade,” he said, which wasn’t a denial. “If she wanted to find me, she knows where I am.”

That was a good point, Jin Guangyao supposed.

“Was it hard?” he asked, and Nie Mingjue frowned, clearly not understanding the question. “For you, when it was you. Was it hard to convince them to let you inherit?”

Nie Mingjue’s eyes slid half-shut in pained memory. “Yes.”

Jin Guangyao nodded, and went to sit down next to Nie Mingjue, who allowed it, returning to his work. He didn’t say anything.

It was rather atypical for Jin Guangyao – he was always thinking of something to say, when it came to Nie Mingjue, trying to bridge the gap between them with clever words. Perhaps it was only that the gap had shrunk, or had never been as large as he had thought.

After a while, Nie Mingjue said, “You know I wish you were better than you are,” and Jin Guangyao looked at him sidelong. “But in the end, you’re my brother. Isn’t that what matters?”