”Meng Yao!”
Nie Mingjue’s enraged roar echoed through the sudden quiet and froze Meng Yao where he stood.
Fuck.
Nie Mingjue had just seen him skewer the commander, hadn’t he? If so, had he also seen him pick up the Wen sword to do it?
Fuck.
Several scenarios flashed through Meng Yao’s mind like lightning bolts: he could deny everything and plead with Nie Mingjue to understand; he could claim the commander had tried to kill him; he could say the commander had freed Xue Yang—
His fingers twitched, eager to drop the sword, his whole self already preparing to bend into that pleading, soft pose that had seen him through so many situations where the outcome had been either to grovel or to be killed—or worse.
”What did you just do?” Nie Mingjue hissed as he marched closer. ”Meng Yao! Explain yourself!”
And just like that, Meng Yao took a leap of faith.
He straightened his back and turned, his chin up and the stolen sword steady by his side. ”I killed him,” he said calmly.
”I saw that,” Nie Mingjue spat. ”I’d like to know why?”
”Because he was a worthless piece of shit who enjoyed tormenting others and taking credit for work he never bothered to do himself,” he said. ”He was a liability who would endanger the sect, sooner or later. I saw a chance and I took it.”
”By stabbing him in the back!” Nie Mingjue yelled.
Meng Yao shrugged. ”To his side, actually. But…yes.”
For a moment, Nie Mingjue was silent, staring at him with an unreadable expression. He didn’t quite like it so he used the chance to wipe the sword before picking up an empty scabbard and testing if the sword would fit. It did.
”I feel like I don’t know you at all,” Nie Mingjue said slowly, tracking his movements with narrowed eyes.
He sighed and stopped, ducked his head slightly, and huffed out a bitter laugh, painfully aware of the way he was laid bare and distantly aware that he didn’t really care. ”Whatever made you think so, Sect Leader Nie?” he asked softly. ”Because I’m not groveling? Because I’m not placating you with soft words and demure smiles?” He turned to face him and arranged his face into the mask he’d perfected over the years. ”If there’s anything Sect Leader Nie would like to happen, this humble one will see to it!”
”Stop it,” Nie Mingjue forced through his teeth.
”Why?” he shot back. ”Does it make you uncomfortable to see me all meek and eager?” He tilted his head a bit, let his face take the expression he’d seen on so many aunties over in the brothel. ”Wouldn’t you like to see me beg?” he asked, a little breathlessly.
Nie Mingjue turned bright red and turned his face away sharply, scowling at the blood stains on the wall.
Meng Yao snorted. ”Thought so.”
”Then why even try?”
He let out a non-committal hum. ”Curiosity, I guess. Or a need to prove a point.”
Nie Mingjue rubbed a hand over his face. ”Aren’t you tired of these games already, Meng Yao?”
”I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said in a pleasant voice.
”This!” Nie Mingjue suddenly turned and threw his arms wide as if encompassing the whole Unclean Realm. ”Why are you doing this—this smoke-and-mirrors act, playing meek and small and stabbing people in the back anyway? What is it for?”
”Why?” Meng Yao asked, narrowing his eyes. ”Why? Because you refuse to believe me if I told you up front!” He was suddenly furious, shaking with it, and if the way Nie Mingjue’s eyes went wide, it showed. ”I tried to tell you about the commander but you ignored me. I tried to tell you about the imbalanced ledgers and the missing money, about the abuse and harassment—not only against me but against others. You ignored me.” To his horror, his eyes filled with tears. ”I gave you my everything but you didn’t even bother to offer me your name!”
He turned his face away and clenched his hands into fists, trying to ground himself in the way the scabbard bit into his hand. He’d never lost control like this, not even after his Father kicked him down the Golden Koi Tower’s stairs. This was dangerous, this was—
”I didn’t know,” Nie Mingjue said quietly. ”I thought you didn’t want to change your name—your mother perhaps—”
Meng Yao didn’t even bother holding back a frustrated hiss. ”My mother?” he asked, incredulous.
”I—” Nie Mingjue started and then fell silent, looking slightly lost.
”I’m a son of a whore,” he said with a sneer. ”My love for my mother isn’t worth shit, and even if you are too blind to see it, other people aren’t.” He rolled his eyes at Nie Mingjue’s offended look. ”The choice to keep one’s name or take the sect name is a luxury someone like me doesn’t have. You made the son of a prostitute your deputy but refused him your name, making it very clear what this arrangement was all about.”
Nie Mingjue paled. ”I wouldn’t—”
”Of course you wouldn’t,” Meng Yao interrupted with a mocking compassion.
”Stop twisting my words,” Nie Mingjue growled.
Meng Yao sighed and raised his brows expectantly, spreading his arms a bit. When Nie Mingjue didn’t continue, he ducked his head and let a small, self-deprecating smile touch his lips.
”You are injured, Sect Leader Nie,” he said softly after a moment of uncomfortable silence. ”You should go see a healer.”
”Meng Yao—”
But Meng Yao had already turned, offering his back to one of the most volatile cultivators he’d ever met. ”Goodbye, Sect Leader,” he said over his shoulder.
And then he walked away from the only home he’d really had.
”You can’t leave!” Huaisang exclaimed as he slammed into Meng Yao’s room. ”I won’t let you!”
”Huaisang,” Meng Yao sighed, put down his set of spare robes, and turned to look at his…friend? Yes, Huaisang could be considered a friend, currently leaning against the door and gasping for breath like he’d run to get to Meng Yao. It might even be true. Or not. Huaisang had always had a penchant for theatrics.
”I don’t know what he did but I’m sure he’s sorry and he wouldn’t want you to go!”
Meng Yao paused and raised a brow, amused despite himself. ”What makes you so sure it was him?”
”You know da-ge is an oaf with the subtlety of—wait, what?”
”Why do you think I’m leaving?” Meng Yao asked, genuinely curious.
Huaisang frowned. ”Da-ge said something that finally offended you so much that you decided you wanted to fuck off.”
”As heart-warming as your faith in me is, that’s not what happened,” Meng Yao said mildly. He didn’t add that apart from straight-up ordering him out, nothing Nie Mingjue said would make him want to leave.
”Then tell me what did? Because da-ge is sulking and no one is telling me anything!”
Meng Yao glanced at him from the corner of his eye. ”I killed someone,” he said.
A pause. Then, ”I’m sure they deserved it,” Huaisang said.
”That’s not how Nie— Sect Leader Nie took it,” Meng Yao said.
Huaisang rolled his eyes and waved his closed fan dismissively. ”Da-ge has surprisingly high morals for someone who gets his greatest pleasure from hacking things with a ridiculously big sword. He doesn’t really bother with the details.” He gave Meng Yao a sly smile and added, ”That’s why he has you. And me.”
”Please, don’t,” Meng Yao said quietly.
”What?” Huaisang asked innocently, tilting his head like the birds he so enjoyed trapping.
”A-Sang,” Meng Yao said.
Huaisang’s eyes narrowed. ”No,” he said, setting his jaw. ”I’m not going to let you make the biggest mistake of your life. Where would you even go? Your mind would be wasted on some trivial things like bookkeeping, and you would be bored to tears! And so would I! And da-ge would be devastated even though he’d never say it aloud.” Huaisang raised his voice a little, articulating clearly, ”He loves you, A-Yao. He’s just too stubborn and stupid to say it aloud because he thinks it’s something he isn’t supposed to want but he does anyway, and that’s why he’s been so very careful not to show any favoritism. You know, to not undermine you.”
There was a muffled sound of outrage from behind the door. Meng Yao pinched the base of his nose. ”He’s behind the door, isn’t he,” he said, resigned.
Huaisang lifted his chin, defiant. ”So what if he is? It doesn’t make anything I said less true.”
The door opened and Nie Mingjue stood at the doorway. ”Huaisang. That’s enough.”
”But da-ge—!”
”I said, that’s enough,” Nie Mingjue said sternly.
Huaisang pouted and stomped away but something about his demeanor told Meng Yao this was exactly what he’d wanted. He decided to think about it later.
”Sect Leader Nie,” he said instead and bowed.
Nie Mingjue scowled at a spot somewhere on Meng Yao’s right shoulder. ”May I come in?” he asked.
Meng Yao stepped aside and bowed again, his hand showing the other man in. ”What can this one do for Sect Leader Nie?”
”Stop that,” Nie Mingjue grumbled. He was shifting on his feet, looking everywhere but straight at Meng Yao.
”Of course, Sect Leader,” Meng Yao said.
He watched as Nie Mingjue walked around the room, picked up things and set them back again, peered at the handful of books Meng Yao had dared to purchase. He wondered what Nie Mingjue thought of them. And what the hell he was even doing in his room.
”You don’t have many personal belongings,” Nie Mingjue pointed out gruffly. ”Why?”
”I wasn’t aware that was a requirement,” Meng Yao replied carefully.
”That’s not—” Nie Mingjue cut himself off and let out a frustrated huff. ”Not every conversation is a test, Meng Yao!”
”Really?” he shot back, slightly too sharply, and added a more demure, ”I mean, of course, Sect Leader.”
”Fuck,” Nie Mingjue growled under his breath. ”Huaisang says I’m an idiot,” he muttered. ”He has an annoying habit of being right. As do you.” He leaned against the wall with a heavy thud and slid to sit on the floor in an inelegant heap in front of Meng Yao’s bewildered eyes. His throat worked for a moment and then he blurted, ”I hate being a sect leader. Always have. I have no patience for the mind games and I dislike politics. Everyone knows that.”
”Mn,” Meng Yao said because, honestly? He didn’t know what else to say.
”These couple of years that you’ve been here…it’s been bearable. You’ve made it bearable. Not enjoyable, mind you, because not even you can manage that but…” he made a helpless what-you-can-do gesture with his hands.
”Thank you?”
”I knew you were having a hard time,” Nie Mingjue continued, picking at a thread in his robes. ”I chose not to interfere because I thought—” he paused and glared at the offending thread. ”I thought it would do more harm than good. I guess I was wrong. Again.”
Meng Yao wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t know what Nie Mingjue wanted from him, couldn’t predict where the conversation would lead. The afternoon had already thrown him off the loop and he was feeling jittery, unsettled. The sensation was intensely uncomfortable.
”I don’t want you to leave,” Nie Mingjue said in a low, intense voice, and when Meng Yao glanced at him, his intense gaze nailed him in place. ”I know I don’t have the right to ask and I definitely have no right to order you but if you could—I would like if you stayed.” He flushed and averted his eyes, looking at Meng Yao’s humble bundle of personal things, neatly tied up and ready to go. ”If that’s all your belongings, it means you’ve always been ready to leave on a moment’s notice. And that means I’ve failed you as your sect leader and for that, I’m sorry.”
”No—” Meng Yao said before he managed to stop himself.
”Yes,” Nie Mingjue barrelled over him, again with those intense eyes holding his gaze. ”It means I never made it clear that this could be your home if you wanted it so. It means I never let you relax and trust that I would have your back and that Huaisang would have your back. It means I never told you how much—” He cut himself off and closed his eyes.
Meng Yao stared at Nie Mingjue’s hands. He knew from experience just how big those hands were, how strong, and yet how gentle when needed. He’d seen Nie Mingjue strangle a boar with his bare hands and also cradle a newborn kitten when he thought no one was watching. And now they were fisted so tightly his knuckles were stark white, trembling against his dark robes.
”I remember the first time I saw your hair on Nie braids,” Nie Mingjue said, jolting Meng Yao’s attention from his hands back to his face (and the fierce eyes he—no, no, he shouldn’t think like that). ”I was so proud that Huaisang made fun of me but I didn’t care. You’d chosen my sect over every other; you have such a brilliant mind you could’ve chosen any sect, any profession—and you chose us. Me. And you still didn’t change your name. I thought you weren’t sure yet, weren’t ready yet so I didn’t push.” He shook his head. ”I was so careful not to push. I didn’t want to make you feel you had to choose.”
”You could have,” Meng Yao’s traitorous mouth whispered.
”I could have?” Nie Mingjue echoed hopefully, looking younger than his years.
Meng Yao brushed the front of his robes, suddenly conscious of how he was standing and Nie Mingjue was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, how unbecoming and—
”I’m making you uncomfortable,” Nie Mingjue said slowly. ”Why?”
Meng Yao drew up a smile and started, ”It’s nothing—”
”Stop,” Nie Mingjue said softly. ”No more masks, A-Yao.”
It felt like a punch on the chest, the diminutive falling from his lips so easily—as if he didn’t know what it did to him, how it both made warmth spread through him and stole breath from his lungs. He wasn’t sure what his face was doing but it was enough to prompt Nie Mingjue to stand up and walk to him, worried.
”Don’t touch me,” Meng Yao gasped, backing up until he hit the door. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to comprehend how they’d made it from the enraged yelling in the courtyard to this moment where Nie Mingjue looked at him with eyes like that, calling him with a name like that—it made no sense but the need Meng Yao had kept carefully chained inside him was rattling under his skin, trying to break free and reach out and it was pathetic how it betrayed him—
”A-Yao?” Nie Mingjue said softly. He was standing so close Meng Yao could practically feel his body heat and it beckoned at him which meant he had to stay back and—
”Do you want me to go?”
He was shaking his head before the whole question was out. ”No,” he whispered.
”Do you want to sit down?”
He slid on the floor without a word, earning a startled huff of laughter from Nie Mingjue. A moment later, he sat next to him, their sides almost but not quite touching. It helped ease up the shaking—oh, he was shaking? Strange.
”You don’t have to say anything,” Nie Mingjue said an undetermined time later, so softly it barely disturbed the air around them. ”But I’d really like you to stay.” He paused and swallowed, then added, ”Please.”
He let out a hum because he wasn’t sure what would come out if he opened his mouth; he didn’t know if he would say, ”This one thanks Sect Leader Nie,” or a barely coherent, ”Please please please pleasepleaseplease,” or something from between those two options, and it terrified him.
”I’m completely tone deaf, you know,” Nie Mingjue said conversationally because apparently the day’s madness wasn’t over yet. ”Back when Huaisang was little, I tried to sing him lullabies but they only made him laugh, and that sort of defeated the purpose.” He shrugged and the motion grazed Meng Yao’s arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. ”What I mean is that sometimes I envy Xichen his ability to soothe people with his music. Like now.”
”I can’t sing either,” Meng Yao mumbled.
”Really? I honestly thought you could do anything you set your mind to. I’ve never seen anyone pick up skills so fast as you—”
Meng Yao would’ve wanted to hear more of Nie Mingjue’s praise but his traitorous body chose for him again, dragging him to sleep with Nie Mingjue’s quiet murmuring.
He woke up in his bed, covered with a heavy fabric that held a familiar smell. He scrunched his nose and let out a small noise of complaint—he had a terrible headache—and then went completely stiff when someone chuckled.
”You look like a disgruntled kitten,” Nie Mingjue said, amused. He was sitting cross-legged at the door, looking like he’d been meditating.
”Sect—” Meng Yao started, struggling to get up.
”No,” Nie Mingjue said, raising a hand. ”I don’t want you to call me Sect Leader unless you leave the Nie Sect. Which—of course—you can if you want to—” he added, then he hesitated before asking, ”Do you want to? Leave?”
Meng Yao pushed himself to sit up and realized two things: first, the fabric covering him was Nie Mingjue’s outer robe, and second he really, really didn’t want to leave.
”What should I call you then?” he asked.
Nie Mingjue looked taken aback for a moment before he shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. ”You can call me Mingjue, if you like. Or A—” he choked up and cleared his throat, glancing away.
”Let’s start with Mingjue then,” Meng Yao said.
As he stood up and helped the robe back on Mingjue, he wondered what the bubbling feeling in his chest was. He felt breathless again but not in a desperate, panicky way, and even though his heart leaped when Mingjue put a hand over his when he smoothed the robe over Mingjue’s broad chest, it didn’t try to jump out of his throat.
It was quite nice.
Mingjue stopped with his hand on the door and glanced at Meng Yao from the corner of his eye. ”If you’re still sneaking in the corridor, Huaisang, I’ll burn all your fans.”
There was a moment of absolute silence and then the sound of someone hurrying away.
Meng Yao snorted, met Mingjue’s eyes, and opened the door.