Chapter Text
Jiang Yanli is the one to suggest it. She comes swooping in as always after Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng have another argument, and this time beyond soup and comforting words that they’ve both grown used to, she offers a plan.
“Are you serious,” Jiang Cheng says, squinting at his older sister like that’ll make her make sense. “They’re going to snap and kill him within a month.”
“Hey,” Wei Wuxian objects immediately. “Don’t you mean try to kill me?”
“No,” Jiang Cheng says absently, but jerks upright when he notices Wei Wuxian trying to make off with his soup. “Hey! Watch those thieving hands!”
“A-Xian, don’t steal his soup,” Jiang Yanli intervenes immediately. “Jiang Cheng, be nice.”
They both scowl at each other but then smile at her, settling back around the pavilion’s table. The small, square pavilion they’re gathered in is on one of the far edges of Lotus Pier, calm waters lapping at the wooden sides.
“Are you serious?” Wei Wuxian asks after a moment of silence.
“But he needs to stay and help us rebuild,” Jiang Cheng says immediately. The thought reminds him of their fight, and he shoots a glare at Wei Wuxian.
“But what would we even get out of it,” Wei Wuxian says, bewildered.
“Right now, we are the strongest sect,” Jiang Yanli says. The brothers share a look, neither wanting to be the one to tell her that that’s not true, but she’s still talking. “But only because of A-Xian. And the other sects don’t trust A-Xian, because they don’t know him. But if they just got to know him–”
“Then everything will be sunshine and rainbows?” Jiang Cheng scoffs. “I’m telling you, they’ll kill him within the first month.”
“I don’t care what they think of me,” Wei Wuxian says, almost offended at the thought.
“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says, still gently, but there’s a tremor in her voice. “A-Cheng. Please. They’re afraid of A-Xian because they don’t understand him, but if they just knew that he’s a good person–”
“I–what!” Wei Wuxian squawks. He reaches for her hand and grips it tightly, his cheeks coloring.
“Am I wrong?” Jiang Yanli demands. She turns to Jiang Cheng. “Am I wrong?”
Jiang Cheng swallows a spoonful of soup harder than he should. “No,” he admits, the word pulled from clenched teeth. “But still–what would we even tell them?”
“That A-Xian has volunteered to live as a guest in each sect for three months,” Jiang Yanli answers. “To ease their fears about his demonic cultivation.”
“That makes them sound like paranoid idiots,” Jiang Cheng says thoughtfully, and Jiang Yanli only smiles in response.
Wei Wuxian swallows his next complaint with a mouthful of soup and thinks for a second. “But I can’t go to the Lan sect,” he says. “And…I don’t want to go to the Jin sect.”
“If you are a guest of the Lans, they will not do anything,” Jiang Yanli counters.
“Well,” Jiang Cheng says, “I suppose there’s a difference between a guest disciple and a guest…but would they rather uphold their impeccable hospitality or, you know,” he waves vaguely at Wei Wuxian, who doesn’t even bother to act offended.
“Yes,” Jiang Yanli says firmly.
“Maybe,” Wei Wuxian admits.
Because here’s the thing: Wei Wuxian is tired of living with the secret of his golden core hanging over his head like a noose. He’s tired of constantly letting down Jiang Cheng, who needs his support, and the Jiang disciples, who need a Head Disciple. He doesn’t want to leave Lotus Pier, but he also needs some time away–away from the memories, away from the people, away from the responsibilities he’ll never be able to fulfill again. Maybe after nine months, he’ll have figured something out. If he can just clear his head long enough to think, he’s sure he can.
“But he doesn’t care about his reputation,” Jiang Cheng says, a tad bitterly.
“I do,” Jiang Yanli says. Her cheeks flush when they look at her in surprise. “I just–I won’t always be able to protect you, A-Xian.”
“That’s,” Wei Wuxian says, silver eyes wide. “I don’t want–I don’t need you to protect me–” He reaches for Jiang Yanli’s hand, but she yanks it away.
“But I always do!” Jiang Yanli says, raising her voice. Her hands are visibly shaking before she hides them in her sleeves. “I am always intervening, whenever–” she cuts herself off and presses her lips together.
“Jiejie,” Jiang Cheng says, somewhat worriedly, “you don’t have to stop.”
“You’re right,” Wei Wuxian admits, putting his soup bowl down guiltily.
She is right. He doesn’t ask her to, he would never ask her to, but she is always the one stepping forward or intervening whenever Wei Wuxian gets the wrong sort of attention in public. Wei Wuxian doesn’t cause trouble on purpose, but he doesn’t want Jiang Yanli to have to protect him forever. Isn’t it time he grew up?
Wei Wuxian doesn’t care about his reputation, and never will, but he does care about Yunmeng. If the only way he can help is by convincing the sects that he’s not evil or crazy (okay, he’s maybe a little crazy, but not that sort of crazy), then he’ll do it.
“I’ll do it,” Wei Wuxian says abruptly, shocking both of his siblings.
So this is Wei Wuxian’s plan: he’ll go to the Nie sect first, because that’s the only one he’s sure he’ll get through. He’s already friends with Nie Huaisang, and even if he doesn’t get along with Nie Mingjue, at least he respects the man. That’s where the only possible source of tension will come from: not the sect leaders disrespecting Wei Wuxian, no one (not even Wei Wuxian) would care about that, but from Wei Wuxian disrespecting the sect leaders.
Wei Wuxian puts the Lan sect second, because he’s only half-sure he’ll make it out alive. Well, that’s an exaggeration, but Lan Zhan didn’t spend the entirety of the war trying to get Wei Wuxian to come to Gusu because they’re fond of demonic cultivation. Wei Wuxian knows that Lan Zhan is pretty much the paragon of Lan rules, but if he was badgering Wei Wuxian about it all throughout the war–from the very moment they reunited, without so much as a hello, how’ve you been –then Wei Wuxian has little to no hope that he’ll convince the Lans that demonic cultivation isn’t that bad within three months.
The Lan sect is the only one that Wei Wuxian expects will lower their view of him over the course of three months, not that it’s particularly high at the moment. But he guesses, or rather hopes, that it’ll be in a good way. If he goes from the fearsome, uncontrollable inventor of demonic cultivation to an uncontrollable pest that they can barely stand to look at without their disdain for him blinding their eyes, then that’s…an improvement. It’s the failure that Wei Wuxian hopes for, anyway.
He expects constant attempts at cleansing at best, not to mention the complete lack of food with taste and climate (“I’m not going there during winter.” “Fair,” Jiang Cheng says) and the rules. At worst, well. In Gusu it’s fair to give a guest disciple 100 lashes for breaking curfew. That’s lighter than Madame Yu, although she never made a curfew, but she did find some sort of joy in beating Wei Wuxian, but it’ll still be life-crippling for a non-cultivator. So basically, the worst that could happen is that they retroactively find out about Wei Wuxian’s missing golden core, because he’s dead, and then he won’t be there to explain himself to Jiang Cheng.
Look, Wei Wuxian will be the second person to admit that he’s paranoid, but it’s not easy to get through war without seeing death around every corner. Especially since he recently lost his golden core. He also has first-hand experience with the Lans, and there’s no way he’ll get through three months without badly breaking their rules. He knows they’ll treat a guest Head Disciple differently than they’d treat a guest disciple, but he doesn’t know by how much, and he’s at the mercy of whatever they decide.
Wei Wuxian also doesn’t particularly want to see Lan Zhan. Or, well, he does very much want to see Lan Zhan, but not like this.
Lastly, Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to go to the Jin sect because the Jins are trash. They’ve been trying to recruit him for almost a year now, as if Wei Wuxian would ever abandon the Jiangs–for the Jins, no less!–and Wei Wuxian doubts that they’ll suddenly grow a moral backbone in the six months before he has to go there. That said, he doesn’t expect any major trouble from them, just their usual insufferable personalities and intolerable sect leader.
So if Wei Wuxian, by some miracle, makes it out of the Lan sect alive, then he’ll go to Lanling. But if, more likely, he ends up high-tailing it out of Gusu because they’re about to do something that’ll paralyze him for life, then he never has to suffer through Jin Guangshan and his stupid peacock of a son.
But first: Qinghe Nie.
The great forested mountains of Qinghe sprawl across the horizon, and Wei Wuxian stands at the bottom, with an annual supply of spices, various notes and sketches, and both Suibian and Chenqing tucked in his side. The rigid stone fortresses of the Nies rise halfway up the mountain, and not for the first time, Wei Wuxian feels the deep, aching loss of Suibian before he gets back on his horse and heads up the mountain.
The room he’s given is close to Nie Huaisang’s rooms. In theory, he has his own private dining room, and everyday a servant brings meals to his room, but in practice he eats dinner with Nie Huaisang every night in Nie Huaisang’s private rooms. It almost feels like their year studying at the Cloud Recesses again, except without Jiang Cheng, and of course Qinghe doesn’t have any wine as good as Gusu’s Emperor’s Smile. Not that it was easy to enjoy some Emperor’s Smile in the Cloud Recesses.
Wei Wuxian spends the first week jumpy, on his toes at all times, waiting for Sect Leader Nie to ask something of him. The sudden move to the chilly mountains of Qinghe has left him utterly bereft. There’s absolutely nothing for him to do. In Lotus Pier, the work for him to do was just piling up everyday. Put together a training schedule for the new junior disciples, come up with sword forms for the new senior disciples to run through, drill all of the formerly outer, now inner disciples on Jiang sword forms, make sure all their other skills–arrays, talismans, archery, etc.–were up to acceptable levels, find a way to categorize the newly repaired Jiang library, oversee the rebuilding of the buildings destroyed by the Wens, coordinate night hunts for the disciples–the list was endless.
Now there’s nothing. Jiang Cheng isn’t around to ask him to do any of it, and apparently the Nies don’t want anything from him. No one asks him why he hasn’t been training with Suibian. He spends the entirety of the first week talking with Nie Huaisang and watching him paint for hours and hours. After such an active past couple of years, Wei Wuxian can’t believe that he’s now watching paint dry, but that’s exactly what he’s doing.
“I can’t believe you agreed to go back to the Cloud Recesses,” Nie Huaisang comments on the eighth day.
They’re sitting in a small garden courtyard, sequestered far away from the main halls of the Unclean Realm. Nie Huaisang doesn’t take his eyes off his painting, on which the valleys of Gusu are outlined. Wei Wuxian is slumped on his side, idly playing with an array of his invention and jotting notes as thoughts occur to him. He rests his chin with one hand, gaze meeting the trunk of a tree squarely.
Wei Wuxian shrugs with the shoulder not on the ground. “I’ll get through it,” he lies.
Nie Huaisang pauses from his art to raise both eyebrows at him. “I thought they wanted you cleansed of resentful energy.”
Wei Wuxian snorts. “Good luck with that,” he mutters. “Look,” he says, at a conversational volume. “It’s not their choice, is it? I’m not a member of their sect.”
“But you’ll be their guest,” Nie Huaisang points out.
Wei Wuxian uses the hand that’s holding his brush to wave away Nie Huaisang’s concern. “I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” he says cheerfully. For now, he’s resolutely not thinking about it.
Nie Huaisang presses the end of his brush to his chin in thought. “It’d be too bad if something happens during your stay there,” he says finally. “And you decide to call it off, and never make it to Koi Tower.”
Wei Wuxian sighs. “You know me too well, Huaisang,” he says.
A rare unhidden smile creeps up on Nie Huaisang’s face, and he turns around to hide his expression. “It’s not my fault you’re predictable,” he complains. “I don’t know much, I really don’t!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Wei Wuxian puts down his brush and flops onto his back, staring up at the gray clouds. He lifts his head to observe Nie Huaisang’s slim frame, adorned in green and gold, so focused over his painting. He can’t help but think of Lan Zhan. Nie Huaisang and Lan Zhan are both heirs to their sects, but Wei Wuxian can’t imagine Lan Zhan whiling away his days painting and avoiding responsibility–or worse, just watching someone paint and avoiding responsibility, like Wei Wuxian is doing. He can’t even imagine Lan Zhan being able to look at Wei Wuxian’s current posture without taking it as a personal insult.
“NIE HUAISANG!”
Nie Huaisang jumps in place, spilling ink all over his painting and ruining it. “Oh no no no,” he mutters, hastily packing up his art supplies.
“Is this happening before my eyes?” Wei Wuxian wonders out loud.
Nie Huaisang shoots him a baleful glare. He gathers up the two fans he painted today and shoves them into Wei Wuxian’s arms. “Protect my fans,” he insists. Then he spins around and runs, disappearing into the foliage of the courtyard within moments and vanishing into the vast Nie fortress through the eastern exit.
Nie Mingjue stomps into the courtyard and stops when he sees Wei Wuxian lying on the ground, discreetly shoving the fans under him. “Have you seen Huaisang?”
Wei Wuxian blinks innocently at him. “I have no idea where he went.”
Nie Mingjue sighs. “Of course not.” He starts striding out of the garden, in a different direction from Nie Huaisang, when Wei Wuxian works up his courage to speak.
“Sect Leader Nie?”
Nie Mingjue stops, back still turned, and Wei Wuxian swallows before continuing. “Is there anything you’d like me to do, while I’m here?”
Usually Wei Wuxian needs something to do, or he goes stir-crazy within a day. He’s enjoyed the past week; he’s been more relaxed than he has been in the past three years combined, but after a week of it he’s at the end of his rope. He knows Nie Mingjue is a straightforward person, so he hopes that he’ll give him a straightforward answer.
“No,” says Nie Mingjue.
Straightforward indeed. “Then can I ask,” Wei Wuxian begins, and then asks without waiting. “Why did you agree to this?”
Nie Mingjue looks back at him, and Wei Wuxian finally remembers to stand up and greet him properly. If anything, the belated show of respect only serves to make the corner of Nie Mingjue’s lip curl in amusement. He glances down at the fans now plainly lying on the ground.
“Huaisang vouched for you,” he says finally, and visibly hesitates before adding: “He doesn’t have many friends.”
“Ah,” Wei Wuxian says tactfully. Then he grins. “Then as a friend, I am duty-bound to tell you that Huaisang left through to eastern exit.”
Nie Mingjue frowns almost comically at him, attempting to outthink Wei Wuxian for several seconds–is he trying to trick Nie Mingjue into going west? It is a double-bluff? A triple bluff?–before he gives up and huffs, whirling away and stomping through the western exit.
Wei Wuxian’s peals of laughter ring through the courtyard behind him as he goes.
After that, Wei Wuxian finds himself eating dinner with both Nie brothers, and after hearing how candid Nie Mingjue is about politics, he ends up actually taking notes.
“I trained to be Jiang Cheng’s second-in-command, but I don’t know how to help him lead a sect,” Wei Wuxian explains.
“You should take notes too,” Nie Mingjue suggests to his brother. His face is stoic, but Wei Wuxian can tell he’s amused to no end.
Nie Huaisang wails and buries his head in his sleeves. “But I’m not going to be the sect leader!” He cries. “Wuxian is just helping his brother!”
“You could help your brother too,” Nie Mingjue points out, and Nie Huaisang’s scream is muffled by his gold-embroidered robes.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Nie Huaisang moans.
“But Huaisang,” Wei Wuxian says, oh-so innocently. “Back at the Cloud Recesses you couldn’t shut up about how much you wished there was someone to help your brother–”
“I did not!” Nie Huaisang yelps.
“–everyday you were all ’ooh, I want to practice my saber everyday’–”
At Nie Huaisang’s horrified expression, Nie Mingjue actually throws his head back and laughs.
Here’s the thing: Wei Wuxian is, after the Burial Mounds and years of demonic cultivation, intensely attuned to all sources of resentful energy. So the more time he spends with Nie Mingjue, the more his attention is drawn to Baxia. It’s not his place to ask about it, but Wei Wuxian’s supposed ‘place’ has never stopped him from doing anything. He wonders if this is why Chifeng-zun, known for never bending his principles, is so lax about his demonic cultivation.
But before Wei Wuxian can actually ask, he runs into Wen Qing.
It must have been an accident that she wandered into Qinghe, because the worst place for a Wen on the run to go is Qinghe. Nevertheless, Wei Wuxian runs into her on the streets of the city, her robes threadbare, her cheeks sallow.
“Wen Qing?” Wei Wuxian asks in astonishment. “What happened to you?”
Wen Qing clutches his sleeve and tells him.
“I’ll take you to Sect Leader Nie,” Wei Wuxian decides. When Wen Qing stares at him in horror, he elaborates. “I know he hates Wens, but he wouldn’t blame the innocent for the crimes of the guilty. He probably won’t agree to free the rest of your family, but he’ll probably agree to offer you shelter.”
Wen Qing’s mouth presses into a thin line that says she doesn’t trust that, but she also doesn’t have any other choice.
“Nie Mingjue is a fair man,” Wei Wuxian insists. “He’d probably let you live here if you agreed to work as a medic. And if he doesn’t,” he adds, “then I’ll leave with you. Whatever happens, I’ll protect you.” Then his steps falter. “Oh no,” he says.
“What is it?” Wen Qing asks, warily.
“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian replies. “He’s going to be so mad when he learns I staged a revolt without him.”
Nie Mingjue’s face wears a thunderous scowl as Wei Wuxian steps up to present his case.
“Sect Leader Nie,” Wei Wuxian says formally. His voice echoes around the stone entrance hall. “This is Wen Qing, former head doctor of the Wens.”
“I recognize her,” Nie Mingjue says. His face is set in steel.
“She and her brother protected Jiang Cheng and I when the Wens attacked Lotus Pier,” Wei Wuxian continues. “If it weren’t for her, there’d be no Jiangs left today.”
Nie Mingjue shifts on his throne to direct his intense gaze at Wen Qing. “You did not defy Wen Ruohan until the war,” he says flatly.
Wen Qing stands ramrod straight. Wei Wuxian didn’t even have to tell her that Nie Mingjue doesn't appreciate toadies, wouldn’t appreciate it if she groveled and begged for mercy. He appreciates strength, and for all Wen Qing’s faults, she’s never lacked for strength.
“No,” Wen Qing admits. “I didn’t.” She hesitates for the barest of moments before adding; “Neither did you.”
Nie Mingjue’s nostrils flare. “I could not,” he rumbles. “Not when it would mean the death of my people.”
Wen Qing looks him squarely in the eyes. “Neither could I.”
Nie Mingjue holds her gaze for one more infinite seconds before he relents, slightly. “Fine,” he says, rising from his throne. Baxia swings by his side, and Wei Wuxian can smell the resentful energy coming off it. “If you’re lying about your family,” he warns Wen Qing, “you will regret it.”
Wen Qing nods stiffly, and the deal is made.
By the time the first month is over, the Nie medic wing has doubled in size, and Wei Wuxian has gained another friend.
Wen Ning joins Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang in their adventures around Qinghe, and if Nie Mingjue is disappointed that his brother’s new friend is a Wen, well, he’s happy that his brother is making new friends. And Wen Qing sends her little brother off with them everyday, because she does trust Wei Wuxian with Wen Ning, though she denies it if asked.
“He’s just too easy to bully,” Nie Huaisang says delightedly one day.
“I know,” Wei Wuxian agrees. “Even you can bully him!”
“I know!” Nie Huaisang agrees. It’s so hard to offend Nie Huaisang personally that Wei Wuxian has given up trying. “Even I can.”
The two of them watch Wen Ning struggle to balance their large pile of purchases in his arms. He almost gets knocked over by every person passing him by on the busy street.
“Are we getting anything else?” Wen Ning asks breathlessly when he finally reaches them.
Wei Wuxian and Nie Huaisang exchange a look, suddenly ashamed for taking advantage of Wen Ning.
“Yes,” Wei Wuxian declares. “Wen Ning, you can’t possibly go around the Unclean Realm wearing those gray robes all the time. We’re getting you new ones! Huaisang, you’re paying.”
Nie Huaisang rolls his eyes but follows.
“Let’s go on a nighthunt,” Nie Mingjue says randomly one day at dinner.
Wei Wuxian shoots a worried look at Nie Huaisang. He’s been pushing the meat around his plate for the past ten minutes. It’s been harder for him to stomach meat ever since the Burial Mounds, but he usually destroys the memory with a metric ton of spices. Jiang Yanli supplied him with more than enough for himself, but he’s been sharing his spice supply with the Wens, who haven’t been able to enjoy spice in their meals for years.
“Uh,” Wei Wuxian says. “Why?”
“You can tell a lot about a person from how they fight,” Nie Mingjue says bluntly.
Wei Wuxian smiles weakly, thinking of Suibian, stashed in the back of his room. He hasn’t taken it out or touched it since he got to Qinghe.
“You should go,” Nie Huaisang says cheerfully. He turns his puppy eyes on Wei Wuxian. “Please?”
Wei Wuxian knows that Nie Huaisang is far more perceptive than he lets on, but surely he hasn’t guessed as to the real reason that Wei Wuxian doesn’t want to go night hunting. He’s just seeing a way to get back at Wei Wuxian for all his teasing.
“Uh,” Wei Wuxian says again. He thought he had long grown used to the ways of younger brothers, but Jiang Cheng has never behaved like this before.
“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Nie Mingjue says, likely noticing how uncomfortable Wei Wuxian seems.
“What? No!” Nie Huaisang turns his puppy eyes on his brother. “I’ll take over all your work for the day,” he wheedles.
Nie Mingjue squints at him, then swings his massive head to look at Wei Wuxian. “We’re going on a night hunt,” he says.
Wei Wuxian sighs, once again outwitted by Nie Huaisang. “Fine,” he says.
“There’s been reports of water ghouls in the river,” Nie Mingjue says. “I thought that would be your area of expertise.”
Wei Wuxian and Nie Mingjue are standing at the edge of one of Qinghe’s pine forests. Twilight passes through the trees, sweeping orange light across the clouds above.
They dismount from their horses and leave them with the townspeople of the riverside village before walking upstream. Nie Mingjue glances at Wei Wuxian’s waist, noting the conspicuous absence of Suibian, but he says nothing. The thick forest forces them to weave around the edge of the river, ducking under low-hanging branches and stepping over exposed roots.
Nie Mingjue and Wei Wuxian fall into an intense silence, listening to the steadying rushing of the river to their right.
“I sense resentful energy further upriver,” Wei Wuxian says when Nie Mingjue pauses.
He reaches for Chenqing, fingers clenching around the dark bamboo; a habitual comfort action. His eyes spark red, and he can see traces of demonic cultivation running through the bottom of the river.
“Right there,” Wei Wuxian says, abandoning his flute briefly to point at it.
Nie Mingjue glances back, takes in his red eyes and predatory gaze, then follows the path of his finger to the spot in the river he’s pointing at.
The river gurgles, a low sound rumbling from its depth. Bubbles spring to the surface, temporarily obscuring their view of the water’s surface. Wei Wuxian used to have much better night vision–and vision in general–before his golden core was removed, but now he uses demonic cultivation for the same purpose.
The stenching of rotting corpses hits their noses right before the ghouls spring to the surface, and then three things happen in quick succession:
First, Nie Mingjue and the water ghouls all roar at the same time, but Nie Mingjue unsheathes Baxia and sends it flying across the water in the time it takes most cultivators to reach for their sword. Bright light flashes from the saber, splitting the dark pine forest.
Second, the roar of the water ghouls turns into shrieking, but that shrieking is joined by the shrieking of a distinctly human voice. Wei Wuxian gets a crick in his neck from turning so fast. A small family of three, two parents and a girl of five or so, are on a raft downriver, in the direction of the town that they came from.
Third, one of the water ghouls speeds down the river and looms out of the water right in front of the raft, causing the child to shriek and the parents to clutch each other.
Wei Wuxian’s attention is immediately diverted, and he whistles sharply, stilling the water ghoul briefly. But it’s too late: the girl flings herself out of her parents arms in an attempt to get away, and falls right over the side of the raft.
“I’ll get the kid!” Wei Wuxian shouts, without looking back. It’s not like Chifeng-zun can’t handle a few water ghouls without him.
Without hesitation, Wei Wuxian throws himself into the river after the girl, who has already been swept under the raft and carried further downriver. He dives hands-first into the water, and the shock of cold hits him all at once. The river water is far cooler than the water of Lotus Pier, and he’s not mostly immune to the cold like he once was.
Wei Wuxian’s robes and Chenqing drag against him, but he surfaces and barely manages to snag the sleeve of the girl. Swimming against the current with a child in tow takes far more energy than he would like, but Wei Wuxian is still a Jiang. The current quickly pulls them far away from the water ghouls, and Wei Wuxian pulls them at a diagonal, trying to keep her head above water and paddle at the same time.
They’re far out of sight of the water ghouls by the time that Wei Wuxian thrusts the girl out of the water. She’s gasping and crying heavily, but Wei Wuxian has no time to worry about that as he hauls himself out of the water, gasping for breath as well.
The two of them take another minute to catch their breath, shivering in the cool night air.
“M-mister Cultivator,” the girl says, and Wei Wuxian resolutely ignores whatever feelings may or may not arise from being called cultivator. “What’s that?”
Wei Wuxian follows her shaking finger and squints. Fading into the darkness behind the thick pines is a large stone structure. It takes Wei Wuxian another minute to find a talisman and light it, but when he does, his eyes blink in the orange light in surprise.
“It’s a burial hall,” Wei Wuxian says without thinking.
When Nie Mingjue finally finds them, Wei Wuxian is standing outside of the Nie Ancestral Hall with the girl now sleeping in his arms. His confident steps falter, and his face whitens, but before he can speak Wei Wuxian beats him to it.
“So that’s why your saber is like that,” Wei Wuxian says, smiling crookedly.
It makes so much more sense now, why Nie Mingjue is so accepting of his new style of cultivation. To someone like Nie Mingjue, as long as he can control it, he’s fine.
Sect Leader Nie stares at him, and Wei Wuxian wishes he knew him well enough to know if he’s scared, worried, or furious. Still, it doesn’t change Wei Wuxian’s reaction.
“I can fix it,” Wei Wuxian says. “Give me three weeks.”
Wei Wuxian and Wen Qing manage it in two.
By the time the third month rolls around, Wei Wuxian has barely left his room in two weeks. There’s dark circles under his eyes, his hair is a bird’s nest, he can’t remember the last time he changed his robes or took a bath, and there’s ten thousand ink stains invisible on his black robes. The floor of his room is more paper than stone; the aftermath of a windstorm or a haunting.
He dragged Wen Qing with him, and Nie Mingjue hovers around anxiously, looming awkwardly in the doorway as the two geniuses bend their heads over their copious notes. Wei Wuxian is determined to have results before he has to leave for Gusu, even if Wen Qing tells him it’s impossible. That’s his true area of expertise.
Nie Huaisang drags them and Wen Ning to dinner the night of, making it the first time that two Wens have sat at Sect Leader Nie’s table.
“We’re never doing this again,” Wei Wuxian says, resting his forehead on the table.
Nie Mingjue snorts. “I should hope not.”
The Nies are very private people, but not very big on propriety. Any semblance of such went out the window the first time Nie Huaisang recruited Wen Ning to bully his sister and Wei Wuxian to the dinner table.
“I hate you,” Wen Qing says, with feeling. “I can’t believe you put me through this.”
“I didn’t know we’d do it this fast!” Wei Wuxian protests. “I couldn’t go to Gusu without finding a solution,” he adds, through mouthfuls of heavily seasoned pork.
“One month!” Wen Qing fires back. “You have one month! What are you going to do during the next month, cure–” She bolts upright. “Wait,” she says, a manic gleam in her eyes. “I think–I can’t believe I didn’t think of this–you can–” she breaks off, darts a glance at the two Nies out of the corner of her eyes.
Nie Mingjue frowns at them. “Is this about the reason why he won’t touch Suibian?”
Wei Wuxian nods reluctantly, exchanging a glance with Wen Qing.
Nie Mingjue continues frowning at Wei Wuxian, but not his usual frown, which says I’m about to explode in rage. This one says I’m disappointed in you. Wei Wuxian hates it. It makes him squirm in place.
“You know the centuries-old secret of the Nies,” Nie Mingjue says heavily, an undercurrent of disapproval running through his voice. “Is that trust not a two-way road?”
Nie Huaisang’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. He raises his fan high enough to cover his nose. Wen Qing looks to Wei Wuxian for his move.
Wei Wuxian knows the story of Nie Mingjue and his sworn brothers vaguely. From what he’s gathered, Jin Guangyao betrayed him in some way and Nie Mingjue was going to kill him before Lan Xichen intervened. This doesn’t bode well for Wei Wuxian’s chances of getting Nie Mingjue to side with him in any conflict with the Lans, but that’s besides the point. Wei Wuxian knows that Nie Mingjue takes trust and betrayal very seriously, and he doesn’t want to be the one to break it.
He also couldn’t be forced to spill this secret if you held a knife to his throat.
Wei Wuxian swallows a bite of pork uncomfortably. “It’s a secret I planned to take to my grave,” he says weakly.
Nie Mingjue only nods solemnly. “And I will, as well,” he says calmly. “If you want Huaisang to not hear it–”
“Hey!” Nie Huaisang interrupts, fluttering his fan furiously. “First you kept the saber from me, and now you want to keep this from me?!” He glowers at both of them in outrage. He huffs when he doesn’t get the capitulation he wanted. “It’s about your golden core, isn’t it?”
Wei Wuxian puts his head in his hands. “Really?”
“What!?” Nie Huaisang cries, fanning himself hard. “I assumed, based on the research you’ve been doing…” he smiles nervously when he sees his brother’s stare, and fans himself even harder. “It wasn’t that hard to guess, I don’t actually know! I really don’t know!”
“Sect Leader Jiang had his core destroyed by Wen Zhuliu, and Wei Wuxian asked me to transfer his core to Sect Leader Jiang,” Wen Qing says bluntly. “Sect Leader Jiang doesn’t know.”
Nie Mingjue nods slowly. “So that’s why you haven’t touched Suibian,” he muses. “And what is it that you think you can do about that?”
“I think Wei Wuxian can cultivate another golden core,” Wen Qing says promptly.
“B-but you can’t cultivate a golden core if you don’t start during childhood,” Wen Ning points out.
“He did cultivate a golden core during his childhood,” Wen Qing says. “And his meridians weren’t crushed; spiritual energy still tries to run through them, it just doesn’t have anywhere to go. If we can find a way to transfer large amounts of spiritual energy properly–”
“And we just did,” Wei Wuxian interrupts, silver eyes sparking with excitement. “I could– I could–” He presses a hand to his chest, where his golden core should be.
“Am I correct in assuming Sect Leader Nie would be willing to help?” Wen Qing asks.
“Of course,” Nie Mingjue says immediately. His lips twitch. “Huaisang, I think this means you have to take over my duties again.”
Nie Huaisang screams into his teacup.
The first time Wei Wuxian draws Suibian in years, his arms shake, both from the effort and the awe. He can’t believe he once took cultivation for granted. Wen Ning helps him run through exercises in a private courtyard, using wooden swords until Wei Wuxian gets back into shape.
It takes two tries before Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian get the energy transfusion right, and both Wei Wuxian and Nie Mingjue spend the next day passed out while Nie Huaisang runs interference. Then Wei Wuxian practices from after breakfast until he collapses, running through everything a cultivating child does at twenty times the speed.
Wen Qing has to force him to slow down, because any mistakes this early in golden core formation would cripple his further growth. She makes him sit through meditation sessions and checks on his progress at least twice a day.
By the time the third month is over, Wei Wuxian becomes the only person to cultivate a golden core twice.
It’s barely formed, weak and easily depleting, but it’s there.
“I can find a way to postpone your visit, if you want,” Nie Huaisang offers, a few days before Wei Wuxian is due to leave for the Lan sect.
Wei Wuxian rubs his chest unconsciously, enjoying the comforting weight of his golden core. It’s a habit he’ll have to stop soon. “There’s no point,” he says. “I’m not here to cultivate a golden core. I’ll just have to find a way to continue working on it in secret.”
It shouldn’t be a problem. If there’s one thing the Lans respect, it’s privacy.
Nie Huaisang shrugs. “Suit yourself,” he says. “But you’ll let me know if the Lans cause you trouble, right?”
Wei Wuxian does a mock double take. “Who is this helpful person and what have you done with Nie Huaisang,” he jokes.
Nie Huaisang whacks him with a closed fan. “Rude,” he complains. Then his tone softens. “I know my brother said it already, but we really do owe you a lot,” he says. “You and Lady Wen.”
Wei Wuxian shifts uncomfortably. “Well,” he says finally, scratching the back of his head. “Tell your brother to put in a good word for me with Zewu-jun?”
Nie Huaisang nods solemnly, an echo of his brother. “He did already, knowing him,” Nie Huaisang admits cheerfully. “But I’ll tell him anyway.”
The Gusu mountains rise pristine and regal into the sky, their peaks blanketed in clouds. Once again, Wei Wuxian stands at the foot of the mountains, craning his head all the way up. He still has to get there on horseback and by foot, even though he’s got a golden core again. Currently, all he can do with his golden core is stand on his sword and wobble for a few seconds before it gives out on him.
Wei Wuxian makes the trek up the endless staircase leading to the Cloud Recesses, each step one he swore never to take again.
Just three months, he reminds himself. It’s not that bad. Just three measly months.
Then again, in three months in Qinghe, Wei Wuxian managed to get fifty-odd Wens accepted into the Nie fold, solve a centuries-old curse that countless Nie sect leaders had suffered and died from, and cultivated a second golden core.
He’s on time, because Wen Qing bullied him into leaving on time, so there’s a welcome party waiting for him when he finally reaches the top of the steps.
Four Lan disciples stand behind Sect Leader Lan. None of them are smiling.
Lan Xichen does, though. “Welcome back to the Cloud Recesses,” he greets.
“I’m honored,” Wei Wuxian says weakly, trying not to look at the Lan disciples while paranoid vision after paranoid vision runs through his mind.
Just three months, just three months, what can go wrong in three months–
Wei Wuxian straightens out of his bow and his gaze meets Lan Zhan’s blank stare. Gusu’s heir stands next to his brother stiffly, formally returning Wei Wuxian’s greeting. His golden eyes bore into Wei Wuxian, and he feels like he’s been caught sneaking out past curfew again, except this time he doesn’t have any friends, this time if he embarrasses himself it’s not just a junior disciple making a fool of himself, he’s the Head Disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, and any mistake he makes will be taken as proof that demonic cultivation ought to be banned, and it definitely doesn’t help that he stood up for the Dafan Wens two months ago, and Lan Zhan is still staring at him–
Wei Wuxian already wants to go home.
If you want to see the stuff I'm working on, check out my Tumblr. It's where I put scenes/skits from ideas that didn't make a full fic. The beginning of chapter two is there!