Archive of Our Own ^beta

Over the past sixteen years, Jiang Cheng’s journey has been a tumultuous one, marked by profound losses. His parents, his sect, his sister, and his brother – all slipped through his grasp. Amidst the ruins, he toiled tirelessly, pouring his very soul into resurrecting what was lost, forging a stronger, more influential legacy. Yet, in the midst of his efforts, he shouldered the role of nurturing Jin Ling, all while wrestling with his own demons and the fear of repeating past mistakes. The challenges were formidable, and Jiang Cheng couldn’t shake the sense that Jin Ling harbored resentment for actions of the past.

However, in the presence of the young sect leader, Jiang Cheng’s heart swells with an undeniable surge of unclely pride. Observing Jin Ling’s growth, he finds solace in the knowledge that the boy has evolved into a figure worthy of his hopes and aspirations.

In a nutshell, Jiang Cheng had managed to navigate the intricate art of raising a child while tending to the needs of his young disciples when the situation warranted. However, this didn't equate to an open invitation for every child to be deposited into his care without a hint of explanation.

Just yesterday, the tranquility of his routine was disrupted when a group of disciples rushed to him after a grueling night hunt. Among them, the eldest clung tightly to a bundle, a mix of urgency and uncertainty in his grip as he poured forth a torrent of words to the sect leader. Phrases like 'near the Burial Mounds,' 'blinding light,' 'a child,' 'we're quite certain it is—' and 'we had no other recourse' tumbled from his lips in a chaotic jumble. As Jiang Cheng listened intently, the disjointed pieces of information slowly formed a picture in his mind. And then, they unveiled the contents of the bundle before him – a small child with lustrous black hair, a dainty pointed nose, and rosy cheeks that mirrored the dawn's blush.

As his eyes fell upon the child, an undeniable fever radiating from his small form, Jiang Cheng found himself rooted in place, his breath hitching in disbelief. It was undeniably Wei Wuxian, albeit a bit smaller than when he first stepped foot in Lotus Pier. Yet, every feature seemed hauntingly familiar, a vivid reflection of the past he thought he had left behind. Even the vibrant red hair ribbon, a symbol of youthful recklessness, still made its appearance – although now it adorned the boy's wrist, a poignant reminder of days long gone.

"Sect leader!" A disciple's urgent voice shattered the grip of memories, pulling Jiang Cheng from his inner turmoil, where echoes of broken promises and unresolved bitterness still resided. He blinked, the weight of history heavy in his gaze, as he turned his attention to the pleading disciple. Their eyes met, conveying a shared understanding of the complex bond between them and Wei Wuxian. Despite his absence, Wei Wuxian's influence endured, weaving itself into the hearts of the disciples. This wasn't new to Jiang Cheng; he had long been accustomed to hearing praises of the Yiling Patriarch from not only his own young disciples but also those of neighboring sects.

Thus, Jiang Cheng found himself with no alternative but to take the child to his own quarters, a space once solely occupied by memories and solitude. It was a move reminiscent of the days when he had tenderly cared for a young Jin Ling, nursing him back to health when sickness had gripped his tiny body. Presently, Jiang Cheng remained confined to that very room, a backdrop of urgency as scattered paperwork piled around him. Occasional interruptions punctuated his solitude – visits from concerned sect members who discreetly checked on him and inquired about his well-being, veiling their true concern for the still form of Wei Wuxian.

Though he would never voice it, not even to himself, Jiang Cheng couldn't help but contemplate the divergent path his life would have taken if Wei Wuxian had returned in a different form – an older, more mature version. In that scenario, his role would shift, from vigilant guardian to wary ally. The dynamics between them would reshape, and the past grievances, though not forgotten, might hold less sway over his decisions.

Yet, the echoes of broken oaths and shattered camaraderie refused to relinquish their grip on Jiang Cheng's heart. The ghosts of promises unfulfilled still whispered in his mind – the pledges to stand side by side, to rebuild together, to chase the wind and waves as they had done countless summers before. Despite Wei Wuxian's status as a demonic cultivator, Jiang Cheng would have clung to his side, a steadfast companion even in the face of adversity. But the reality was far murkier, his own youthful fears and unhealed wounds driving a wedge between them.

As time marched on, wisdom found its way into the crevices of his thoughts, and some of the fractured pieces of his heart managed to mend. Yet, a stubborn few remained resolute, resistant to the passage of time. These fragments held the remnants of those broken promises, preserved in amber-like nostalgia, a constant reminder of the intricate mosaic of his past.

As time flowed forward, Jiang Cheng found himself grappling with a gnawing guilt that had taken root deep within him – a guilt that extended beyond his bitterness towards the Yiling Patriarch's actions. He had often been quick to cast blame on Wei Wuxian for his perceived transgressions, from the devastation wrought upon others to his alliance with the Wens. Yet, during a lengthy session of introspection, he confronted a painful realization: he too had fallen short of his promises. It wasn't just his elder brother who had betrayed oaths; Jiang Cheng had his own breaches. 

Haunted by the memory of the Wen siblings, he grappled with the awareness that they had once saved his life, an act he had silently ignored. The weight of regret pressed heavily on his chest as he reflected on his impulsive and thoughtless actions during those tumultuous times. Instead of extending gratitude and protection, he had withheld his support, neglecting his duties as a sect leader to offer a helping hand when they were in dire need. Jiang Cheng couldn't shake the feeling that his own stubborn emotions had contributed to the devastating spiral that ultimately led to the loss of his brother.

Now, with Wei Wuxian's enigmatic return, Jiang Cheng's mind churned with questions demanding answers. Yet, he harbored doubts that this version of Wei Wuxian, in such a diminutive form, possessed the memories or insights he sought. The possibility gnawed at him, but he deliberately deferred his musings, unwilling to confront the implications just yet. Wei Wuxian's present state, shrouded in fever-induced slumber, held his immediate attention.

The sight of the tiny figure, even smaller than the Wei Wuxian he remembered, stirred a pang of helplessness within Jiang Cheng. The child's fevered form lay still, oblivious to the world, his breathing the only testament to his existence. It was a stark contrast to the memories of a Wei Wuxian bursting with vitality, often reckless yet fiercely alive. But now, the small rise and fall of his chest was the only lifeline.

Intriguingly, a restless golden core pulsed within Wei Wuxian's belly, a presence that resonated deeply with Jiang Cheng. It stood in stark contrast to the haunting memories of resentful energy that had once enveloped his brother. Jiang Cheng found an unexpected solace in the knowledge that this version of Wei Wuxian seemed more vibrant, more spirited. It was a glimmer of hope that perhaps some remnants of his brother's true essence still remained, even within the confines of his infantile form.

"Sect leader," a voice interrupts Jiang Cheng's contemplation, yanking him from his subconscious absorption in Wei Wuxian's well-being. He belatedly realizes he had been unconsciously channeling waves of energy into the slumbering child. His initial intent had been to assess Wei Wuxian's golden core and aid in quelling the fever, but his actions had inadvertently taken a different course. "It's dinner time. Would you like me to bring you something to eat here?" The unspoken implications of the offer hang in the air – Jiang Cheng had been sequestered in his chamber the entire day, neglecting his responsibilities of overseeing training and sharing meals with his disciples.

Influenced by a tradition adopted from a smaller sect, where leaders and disciples dined together to foster camaraderie and open communication, Jiang Cheng resolves to rejoin his disciples for their meal. His assumption that Wei Wuxian would continue sleeping peacefully for another night guides his decision. Ensuring the child's golden core is still at work, easing his fever, Jiang Cheng takes a final check before departing the room.

As he traverses the path to the dining pavilion, Jiang Cheng is struck by a realization that carries profound weight. Disciples, whom he had often driven away with his quick temper and stern demeanor, now meet his gaze without the usual fear. A timid smile shared by one disciple solidifies the message – Jiang Cheng had become so enshrouded in his own struggles that he had failed to notice the absence of genuine connections. How long had it been since someone had looked him in the eyes without apprehension? When had he last encountered someone who spoke to him as an equal, or received a confident smile from a peer? Even Nie Huaisang, the consistent presence in his life, had experienced Jiang Cheng's dismissive wrath during their last interaction.

Jiang Cheng's inner turmoil, a fusion of fear and anger, had driven away the one person who had remained by his side. The incident with Nie Huaisang, however well-intentioned, had ignited Jiang Cheng's pride and left him isolated once more. Even Jin Ling, his own nephew, was kept at bay as Jiang Cheng grappled with his own wounded pride, unable to seek solace or companionship.

The path ahead is marked by the weight of self-awareness, and Jiang Cheng's strides are tempered with the determination to rectify his isolation. A newfound resolve takes root, as he yearns to rebuild the connections he had inadvertently severed.

"Sect leader!" A single sensation of solitude in his throat is instantaneously replaced by a surge of contentment as a throng of young Jiang disciples converges on him, preempting his entry into the pavilion. His usual presence during their lunches had led them to assume the worst when he had failed to appear. "Sect leader! We learned a new step today!" Their youth and diminutive stature have led to a decision to teach them a few steps at a time, as opposed to entire formations. The customary hollowed wooden swords have been substituted with lotus pods, meticulously cut into slender strips and meticulously braided into sword-like shapes—a gesture of consideration attributed to Nie Huaisang. Notably, he was also the one who imparted the knowledge of the braiding technique to others.

"Great job, everyone," he commends in a soft tone, his fingers ruffling the hair of several disciples as he watches the head disciple approach, coming to Jiang Cheng's rescue from the endearing 'onslaught' of the youngsters. "I imagine you're all quite hungry," he adds, providing gentle guidance that leads them further into the pavilion. Settling beside the head disciple, he engages in conversation, learning about the morning's training session, which is recounted with meticulous detail, including the resolution of a minor dispute between two of the young disciples.

"We made every effort not to disrupt you today," the observation is offered casually, accompanied by an array of prideful smiles and nods around the room. The head disciple's gaze meets Jiang Cheng's, curiosity evident as he queries, "How's Young Master Wei?"

"You're addressing him as Young Master?" Jiang Cheng's query holds a hint of curiosity rather than anger.

"Isn't he going to stay?" The response carries a matter-of-fact tone, offering an explanation for the choice of address.

"Focus on your meal and mind your own affairs," Jiang Cheng retorts, prompting a subdued laugh from the young disciple. The laughter doesn't seem directed at Jiang Cheng's words, indicating a level of comfort. "His fever hasn't improved significantly," Jiang Cheng admits, sharing an honest assessment of Wei Wuxian's condition.

"I believe his determination will ultimately prevail. While I didn't have the chance to grow up with him, I've heard that his resolve is quite remarkable," the disciple offers optimistically.

"He was... but I'm uncertain about this version of him. He just seems so..." The sect leader struggles to articulate his thoughts, despite being acutely aware of what he wants to convey.

"Small? Tiny? Fragile?"

Jiang Cheng agrees without uttering a word, wary of underscoring those descriptors any further. The implications of these words weigh heavily on him. Mere hours ago, Jiang Cheng himself hesitated to touch Wei Wuxian, apprehensive that his grip might unintentionally exert too much force and result in unintended harm. While Wei Wuxian's stature had always been slight during their shared upbringing, this rendition of him appears even more delicate, with his ribs more pronounced and bones protruding where they shouldn't. In contrast to other children his age, who typically boast cherubic cheeks and a hint of plumpness, Wei Wuxian's emaciated appearance is stark. Jiang Cheng has witnessed other children receiving praise for their robust appetites and commendation for their health, often being told that their dedication to eating will lead them to grow into handsome men and beautiful women. The stark contrast between these observations and Wei Wuxian's initial arrival at Lotus Pier raises disconcerting questions – did no one ever express concern for his well-being? Did nobody encourage him to nourish himself more? Had anyone even noticed his palpable fragility?

"Maybe I'm making a mistake. Perhaps we should send him to Gusu."

"No offense, sect leader—"

"I have a feeling you're going to offend me regardless—"

"But aren't you being unreasonable?" The atmosphere shifts abruptly. There's a touch of offense in his words, a sting felt by Jiang Cheng. "Irrespective of your shared history, isn't he just a child? Sending him to Gusu could feel like a punishment to him." The head disciple sets his chopsticks down, the sound echoing through the pavilion. Jiang Cheng glances around, realizing that they're the sole occupants of the space. The deserted surroundings likely embolden his head disciple to speak in a more familiar tone. "You're his only anchor now. What would Sect Leader Lan do with him? Wei Wuxian isn't accustomed to the cold climate there, and he could fall ill again. Would you watch him for a second time?"

"Then the Nie—"

"He can't care for him either. Sect Leader Nie is already in frail health. His disciples would protest if we burdened him further." The young disciple rises, offering no further acknowledgment to his sect leader. "Make your decision, sect leader. But understand that most of us wouldn't be pleased if Wei Wuxian were to leave."

With that, he departs. Jiang Cheng's untouched food seems to mirror the bitter taste left by their conversation, so he abandons it. Exiting the pavilion, he opts to avoid dwelling on the matter too deeply.

I think... I too wouldn't be pleased with that…

The next day, Wei Wuxian finally awakens. At first, he stirs in his sleep, emitting a childlike whine in protest of being roused too early. However, his movement tenses abruptly, sensing the unfamiliar softness surrounding him and another presence in the room. Jiang Cheng observes him intently, ready for any response.

"Where am I?" Wei Wuxian's voice is cautious, his body remaining still.

"Yunmeng," Jiang Cheng replies simply.

"I was supposed to wait for mama and papa at the inn," Wei Wuxian mumbles, his voice tinged with a fragility that tugs at Jiang Cheng's heart.

Facing a choice he hadn't yet considered, Jiang Cheng opts for honesty, knowing that regardless of Wei Wuxian's age, it's the truth he would prefer.

"Your parents aren't coming back."

"I know," Wei Wuxian replies, his voice carrying a mixture of resignation and understanding. Jiang Cheng watches with a heavy heart, knowing that Wei Wuxian has always possessed a sharp awareness of the world around him. "Are you a friend?" Wei Wuxian's question hangs in the air, carrying a sense of vulnerability.

"I—" Jiang Cheng hesitates, grappling with his own conflicted emotions and the complexities of their shared history. "You have been entrusted to me," he responds finally, his words a careful admission of responsibility.

As Wei Wuxian begins to stir, Jiang Cheng refrains from interfering, allowing the boy to move at his own pace. He observes every subtle movement, every flicker of expression, hoping for a sign of recognition, a spark of memory. Yet, all he sees is curiosity mingled with uncertainty – emotions that seem fitting for someone in Wei Wuxian's current circumstances.

Then, Wei Wuxian's gaze settles on Jiang Cheng.

"Rich-gege," Wei Wuxian's voice speaks the name that carries a trace of familiarity.

"Am I?" Jiang Cheng's response holds a mix of hope and uncertainty.

"Mn. Clean robe. Big room," Wei Wuxian's words paint a picture, and Jiang Cheng feels a rush of conflicting emotions surge within him.

Jiang Cheng remains silent, his watchful eyes following every gentle movement as Wei Wuxian delicately sets the blanket aside – a far cry from the exuberant actions Jiang Cheng remembers from their shared past.

“Your room?” Wei Wuxian's question is met with Jiang Cheng's response, "Ours, for now," a subtle acknowledgment of their shared past. Wei Wuxian's nod indicates his understanding, yet he remains still, seemingly reluctant to explore his surroundings further. 

"Come, you must be hungry," Jiang Cheng suggests, prompting Wei Wuxian to touch his own belly in a surprisingly serious manner for a child of his age.

"It's okay, I'm not hungry yet," Wei Wuxian replies, his determination evident despite his small stature.

"You haven't eaten in at least two days," Jiang Cheng points out, hoping to appeal to Wei Wuxian's logic. However, the response he receives is a stubborn shake of the head.

"Can go longer."

"You don't have to," Jiang Cheng insists, though the declaration initiates a brief yet intense staring contest between them. Feeling the need to break the tension, Jiang Cheng offers, "At least keep me company." This seems to meet with Wei Wuxian's approval, and he concedes with a hint of acquiescence.

The sect leader proceeds to retrieve the smallest Jiang robe available and assists Wei Wuxian in putting it on, being careful not to touch the boy's skin. As he helps him, Jiang Cheng's gaze catches the sight of bruises and bite marks, likely from street dogs – a painful confirmation that this is indeed the Wei Wuxian, or rather, Wei Ying of their shared past.

I can’t hate when you don’t even know why I would have the right to. 

Jiang Cheng finds himself content with the way things are likely to unfold from this point onward. He doesn't coerce Wei Ying to eat, but he subtly contemplates aloud about discarding the leftover food. Wei Ying falls for the ploy and voices his opinion about wasting the effort put into preparing the meal. Reluctantly, he allows Jiang Cheng to feed him small bites until about half of the rice bowl, mixed with meats and stew, is consumed.

The sect leader has an urge to continue feeding Wei Ying, perhaps a small bowl of lotus root soup with pork ribs or even a meat dumpling or steamed bun, but he understands the need to begin with modest portions. He realizes he can't avoid facing the Jiang healers any longer, but he's somewhat banking on Wei Ying forming a quick attachment and, with his innocent eyes and a pout, potentially even defending him from the healers' stern reprimands.

"Now, come. We must oversee the training," Jiang Cheng asserts, a sense of responsibility and determination guiding his words.

One month later…

‘We have to eat.’

‘We have to oversee training.’

‘We need to take a bath now.’

‘We have to brush our hair.’

‘We need to go the ancestral hall.’

‘We have to get some work done now.’

‘We…’

‘We.’

A month goes by in this fashion.

As the days pass, Wei Ying's progress becomes noticeable. He willingly consumes a few more bites of food during each meal, without needing any persuasion.

Gradually, their proximity increases as well. Initially, Wei Ying would keep his distance, positioning himself as far away from Jiang Cheng as possible while he worked on official matters. However, over time, he transitions from his distant stance to sitting across from Jiang Cheng at the low table. There are moments when he simply watches, almost as if supervising, and Jiang Cheng can't help but feel a sense of warmth and connection between them. These moments typically take place shortly after noon, when Wei Ying is more relaxed and content, having had a satisfying meal. Predictably, Wei Ying's eyelids grow heavy, and he often dozes off at the table. To cater to this, Jiang Cheng ensures a small blanket is on hand for Wei Ying's comfort.

In addition to these changes, Wei Ying's curiosity about the world beyond their pavilion grows with each passing day. While he had been limited to exploring Jiang Cheng's room, office, the dining pavilion, training grounds, and the ancestral hall, he now expresses a desire to venture further. Jiang Cheng notes Wei Ying's wistful gazes into the distance, particularly during training sessions. He occasionally ponders whether Wei Ying yearns for the Burial Mounds or if his memories are returning, prompting thoughts of escape. Yet, any worries dissipate as Wei Ying turns around, his arms reaching out toward Jiang Cheng, silently beckoning to be lifted and held.

So much for being older than me. 

Unapologetically, Jiang Cheng lifts Wei Ying into his arms whenever the younger boy reaches out, just as he used to do with Jin Ling when he was younger.

"Gege—" Wei Ying's voice calls out one day, and it takes Jiang Cheng a moment to process the familiar term. Since the day he had awakened, Wei Ying had refrained from using the endearing term "gege" to address him. Perhaps he overheard others referring to Jiang Cheng as the sect leader and opted for the more formal title. Although it warms Jiang Cheng's heart to hear the affectionate address once again, he can't help but wonder about the timing. "—seeds please?"

Jiang Cheng can't suppress a small chuckle. "Am I just a snack pouch to you?" he playfully retorts, his hands already moving to retrieve the pouch of lotus seeds from his possession. In truth, he's been carrying the snack around for Wei Ying, using it as a reward for the young boy's child-like behavior. What started as a special treat has now become a regular indulgence, and Jiang Cheng finds himself struggling to come up with alternative rewards as Wei Ying's fondness for the lotus seeds grows.

The fact that Wei Ying is comfortable enough to ask for a snack is a positive sign of his contentment around Jiang Cheng, reassuring him that he can indulge the boy with all the lotus seeds he desires.

"We are going to visit someone today, so don't eat too many. You're going to be overfed there for sure," Jiang Cheng murmurs, a small smile tugging at his lips as he contemplates the upcoming visit.

Just a few days ago, Jiang Cheng received a letter from Nie Huaisang, inviting him once again. While he knows he should go, he's hesitant to leave Wei Ying alone. Furthermore, Huaisang remains unaware of Wei Ying's return, and Jiang Cheng finds himself using this opportunity to introduce them. With Wei Ying's small size, he can be easily carried while sword flying, making the excursion feasible.

However, Jiang Cheng is apprehensive about facing Huaisang. Their last interaction was marred by Jiang Cheng's outburst, and he regrets yelling at Huaisang despite the man's well-intentioned actions. Considering all that Huaisang has gone through – witnessing his brother's qi deviation, experiencing years of mourning, and confronting the grisly aftermath of Jin Guangyao's deception – Jiang Cheng acknowledges that he should have been more sensitive. Huaisang's delicate constitution and emotional nature make it clear that he deserves better treatment than an emotionless response, and Jiang Cheng regrets his past actions.

"Another Rich-Gege?" Wei Ying's innocent question prompts a chuckle from Jiang Cheng. 

"Oh, he's rich, alright," Jiang Cheng responds, his thoughts drifting to the undeniable wealth of the Qinghe Nie sect. Despite any hardships or trials, they seem to possess a wealth that can sustain them through anything. He's witnessed firsthand how the Nie disciples dote on Huaisang, always eager to fulfill his desires, and how even those around him are quick to cater to his wishes. Jiang Cheng himself is not exempt from this, having fallen into the pattern of spoiling Huaisang on occasion.

"More than you, Gege?" Wei Ying's curiosity persists.

"To be honest... probably," Jiang Cheng admits, a touch of amusement in his tone. He contemplates the staggering wealth of the Nie sect, realizing that they might even surpass the Jin sect in terms of riches, and perhaps, they're richer than even the emperor himself.

"It's okay. I like you just the way you are," Wei Ying replies with heartfelt sincerity, bringing a soft smile to Jiang Cheng's lips. It's a simple sentiment, but it holds a world of meaning, making Jiang Cheng's heart warm with a newfound fondness for the boy.

"Eat your seeds and shush," Jiang Cheng gently instructs, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he hears Wei Ying's soft giggle in response. He doesn't make a big deal out of it, but he holds onto that precious moment, storing it away in his heart as a memory he intends to cherish forever.

They arrive at the Impure Realm in the early evening, patiently awaiting the opening of the imposing gates. As they stand there, Jiang Cheng fusses over Wei Ying's robes. The young boy is dressed in official Jiang disciple attire, complete with his own little clarity bell attached at his hip.

"How did you even manage this?" Jiang Cheng's voice is a mix of amusement and exasperation as he takes notice of the tangled bell in Wei Ying's hair. The boy doesn't attempt to apologize, and although the bell pulls at his hair tightly, he bears it without complaint. Jiang Cheng carefully untangles the bell from his hair, his usually stern features softened by the gentleness of his actions. "There," he finally declares, just as the heavy gates begin to groan open, revealing a waiting Nie Huaisang.

"So it's true." Huaisang's words carry a mixture of surprise and intrigue as he gazes at them.

"You knew?!" Jiang Cheng's eyebrows raise in disbelief.

"Of course I knew, you dummy! I know everything!" Huaisang's response is laced with a playful tone, hinting at his deeper understanding. "Come on in. I've made tea."

Despite the lingering awkwardness in the air between Jiang Cheng and Huaisang, Wei Ying remains blissfully unaware of it. He stays close to his sect leader, his eyes wide with curiosity as he takes in the surroundings. He utters soft "oh's" and "wow's" as he observes the statues and admires the well-trained cultivators passing by.

"How did you find out?" Jiang Cheng inquires, his steps faltering slightly as he struggles to keep pace with Nie Huaisang. Meanwhile, Wei Ying clings to his outer robe, not wanting to let go.

"Gossip," Huaisang replies succinctly. He guides them into the conference room, where he promptly dismisses everyone else and leaves only four guards stationed at the door. As Jiang Cheng takes in the room, his regret about bringing Wei Ying becomes evident. Preserved in a glass box adorned with protective talismans, Nie Mingjue's body stands like a solemn monument. Even Baxia, the famed saber, is displayed beside the corpse on a stand.

Wei Ying, however, doesn't seem fearful; his curiosity outweighs any trepidation. He steals glances at the display, but he remains still unless prompted by his sect leader.

"Please, have a seat," Nie Huaisang gestures, his fan in hand. He busies himself with fetching boiling water before taking his own place. "Let me look at you, you're so cute," he comments, a smile touching his lips as his gaze remains averted from Jiang Cheng. "Memories?"

"Not there," Jiang Cheng responds, his tone tinged with a mix of relief and uncertainty.

"That's good." With a flourish, Huaisang produces a piece of candy from his sleeve. Wei Ying's eyes widen, sparkling with anticipation at the sweet treat.

I knew I hadn't tried to give him candy yet!

"Do you want it? But you will have to do something for me, can you?" Nie Huaisang playfully dangles the candy before Wei Ying.

"I think so."

"What's your name?"

"A-Ying!" Wei Ying's response is filled with enthusiasm, clearly pleased that the task isn't as daunting as he might have anticipated.

"How old are you, baobei?" Huaisang inquires.

"I'm five." Jiang Cheng takes partial responsibility for Wei Ying holding up only three fingers instead of the correct five.

"Good boy! Come get the candy." Huaisang's words are warm, and Wei Ying's eyes light up with anticipation as he eagerly moves closer to claim his reward.

It’s a trap!

There's a shared gasp among the four guards who have been standing quietly and unmoving by the door until now. Nie Huaisang's action surprises them, given his known physical weakness. Wei Ying himself seems taken aback, but he settles down obediently in the sect leader's lap once he receives the candy.

“You would trade me for a candy,” Jiang Cheng states, his tone more playful than accusatory. “Traitor.”

“Don’t be silly. You didn’t stand a chance,” Huaisang retorts with a chuckle.

“Is this the only reason why you called me here? To steal my didi?” Jiang Cheng's words carry a hint of amusement.

“Of course not. I called you here knowing you would bring him, but also to give you an opportunity to apologize. I don't like this tension between us right now, but I know I've been wronged and I'm too stubborn to not seek an apology," Huaisang explains. "I knew that day that you were stressed, hence why I was visiting in the first place. I would never hold your emotions against you. What I will hold against you is the way you're allowing yourself to express some of them. Do you understand what I'm getting at?” They continue to gaze into each other's eyes, their connection unbroken.

“I think so…” Jiang Cheng responds, his frown indicating a mix of contemplation and acknowledgment.

I’m not so sure, to be honest. I did want to apologize and make things right again, but now that he says those things out loud, I feel strange .

"Listen, it's completely valid for you to feel stressed, okay? It's natural to experience anger, betrayal, and upset. Expressing those emotions is acceptable. However, directing those feelings towards individuals who aren't the source of your distress is not the right way to handle it. I understand that you might have learned from Madam Yu's example over the years, and you already know that such outbursts scare me to death after what happened to Da-Ge. But I genuinely want us to mend our relationship. So, can we work together on addressing these issues?"

As Jiang Cheng reflects on Nie Huaisang holding Wei Ying so tenderly, the sleeping boy in his arms, he's reminded of past moments when Huaisang cared for Jin Ling. This sight underscores the depth of Nie Huaisang's character and his consistent support. Jiang Cheng realizes the remarkable person he's been trying to court for years.

"I apologize, A-Sang. Expressing my feelings isn't something that comes easily to me, so I'm grateful that you've verbalized most of it on my behalf. I struggle to rein in my emotions, and the last thing I want is to hurt you, especially when I haven't even mustered the courage to properly court you. There's a part of me that feels profoundly lonely," he admits, his voice softened, "but another part of me remains angry about many things. I'm still angry about the loss of my parents and sister. Peacock may be questionable, but he didn't deserve his fate either. I'm angry at Wen Chao and Wen Zhuliu, and I'm still angry at Wei Wuxian." Jiang Cheng notices Nie Huaisang's protective grip on Wei Ying but doesn't comment on it. "Moreover, I'm angry at myself for failing to protect him adequately. I stood resolute in front of Lan Wangji back then. Looking back, I thought he wanted to take Wei Ying to Gusu and deal with him there, but I insisted that he belonged to my sect and that we would handle everything because he was my brother. Yet, as you can see, things unfolded differently."

"And it's completely understandable for you to feel that way. Not only were your family and childhood taken from you, but we were still young when the war began, which added to the burdens you had to carry."

"Exactly," Jiang Cheng agrees, reflecting on his past actions. "I know I acted horribly in many situations. But there's one person I've never held any resentment towards, and that's you. You've always been a constant presence, and even now, you extended an invitation to me despite my mistakes. I'll always be grateful for your compassion." As their hands come together across the table, their fingers intertwine. "I promise I'll make a sincere effort to improve. If you're willing, I would be honored to court you."

Nie Huaisang smiles softly. "Do your best, Sect Leader Jiang."

Six months later

"Remember, we're here to surprise A-Sang, not give him a heart attack."

"But Sang-Ge loves me!"

"I know, but what did I tell you about him?"

"He needs extra care?"

"Exactly."

Several months have passed since that eventful day. Now, on Huaisang's birthday, Jiang Cheng has a special plan. As part of his official gift, he intends to propose marriage to Nie Huaisang.

To an outside observer, it might seem rushed, but their history and the progress they've made over the past months make Jiang Cheng confident that this is the right step for them.

"Come here," he calls the boy, fussing over his robe and rewarding him with another cherry candy. As the boy happily runs off, Jiang Cheng watches, hoping that the upcoming celebrations will go smoothly, and perhaps he and Huaisang finally get some well-deserved alone time.

Due to sect matters on both sides, neither has been able to visit the other in a month now, and Jiang Cheng admits he has been eagerly anticipating more of those shy pecks on his cheeks from the shorter man. If things go according to plan, he'll be receiving more than just a few kisses tonight. But first, he relies on a few Nie disciples to inform Huaisang that someone is waiting to have a meeting with him.

"Sect leader is coming," alerts one of the guards, prompting Jiang Cheng to scan the room once more. Lanterns hang mid-air with talismans attached on the inside to keep them afloat. Paper decorations and lotus petals are scattered throughout the room in a uniform manner. Out of respect, a decent area surrounding Nie Mingjue's preserved body has been left untouched, but two floor pillows are strategically placed in front of the glass box. If things go right, Jiang Cheng wants to bow to him together with Huaisang.

However, one thing is missing: Wei Ying.

"Where's my brother?" he asks the guards, one of them pointing his saber at Nie Huaisang's empty chair. "Wei Ying, no hide and seek."

Pouting, the boy peeks from behind the chair.

"Fine~"

Just in time, Jiang Cheng notices Nie Huaisang's adviser about to enter first, but upon quick inspection, the old man halts and retreats.

"What are you doing?" asks a confused Huaisang as he too comes around the corner, but his reaction is not what Jiang Cheng expects. It's a mix of confusion, fear, panic, and he urgently reaches out as he shouts Wei Ying's name, telling him to be careful. "Catch him!" he exclaims to Jiang Cheng. But it's too late.

In the span of a few moments, a cascade of events unfolds.

Wei Ying, on his way back to Jiang Cheng, trips over one of the pillows placed in front of Nie Mingjue's glass coffin. He goes headfirst into one of the corners of the box, knocking himself unconscious and cutting his shoulder open in the process.

Initially, there's just a small crack in the box and a faint twitch from Nie Mingjue's corpse. Baxia starts to vibrate on the display stand, but everyone's focus is on the spreading blood on the platform beneath the corpse. Somehow, the blood has seeped inside the box through nearly invisible cracks that rapidly multiply and widen.

With little choice, Jiang Cheng summons Zidian from his spot and sends it flying to wrap around Wei Ying, pulling him away from the box and out of the room. As he rushes out, Jiang Cheng practically drags a nearly catatonic Nie Huaisang with him. Even the guards are too stunned to react immediately, leaving the room and closing the double doors just as an inevitable explosion erupts.

"What… just happened?" Nie Huaisang's voice trembles with confusion and shock as he stands frozen in the spot Jiang Cheng has pulled him to.

No one can provide an immediate answer, leaving the hallway engulfed in an eerie silence that hangs heavy in the air.

The silence is broken by an unusual sound—a hiss that fluctuates in volume, at times growing louder before receding, as if circling the room beyond the closed doors.

"Is that… Baxia?" one of the guards guesses.

Huaisang dismisses the notion, his voice filled with concern. "It can't be. She shouldn't be active on her own. She was in the box with Da-Ge, feeding off his resentful energy."

And he's correct. Huaisang's intelligence shines through even in this moment of crisis. Jiang Cheng's heart swells with admiration for the man, and in another circumstance, he would have pulled him into a tight embrace and planted a reassuring kiss on his forehead. But there are more pressing matters at hand—groaning sounds emanate from within the room, and Wei Ying's pitiful whimpers can be heard as Zidian continues to wrap around his small frame.

"Open the door," Huaisang commands urgently, a hint of desperation in his voice.

The guard hesitates momentarily.

"Open it! I need to see what's happening!" Huaisang's voice rings out, cutting through the tension.

For the first time, the guard disobeys Huaisang's order, refusing to open the door. However, Huaisang's will is unyielding and his adviser gives into the command and slowly approaches the door himself. Huaisang reaches for Wei Ying, cradling the boy to his chest, and then reaches out to grasp Jiang Cheng's hand, pulling him forward.

"Baxia!" Huaisang’s voice reverberates through the hallway, a command mixed with desperation, made to give Baxia a warning of their entrance.

An abrupt silence follows the command, and then, a voice—raspy, deep, and eerily monotone—responds. Jiang Cheng realizes that this might be Wei Ying's doing, a realization that brings both comfort and concern.

As the doors swing open, Jiang Cheng and Huaisang step into the room together. The sight that greets them is both astonishing and heartwarming—Wei Ying's presence seems to have triggered a transformation. Huaisang's eyes glisten with unshed tears, his emotions running deep, yet his lips curve into the most genuine smile Jiang Cheng has seen in the past 17 years.

In this moment, surrounded by the uncertainty of what transpired, Jiang Cheng finds solace. He acknowledges that this might have been Wei Ying's intricate plan, and despite the inconsistencies, he's willing to accept it. He hasn't shared with anyone the moments he witnessed Wei Ying seemingly conversing with thin air or nodding as if agreeing to an invisible presence. Jiang Cheng chooses to focus on the outcome—their togetherness—and the love that radiates between him and Huaisang.

Even if Zidian seemed to hum a message that it has removed an unwelcome presence out of Wei Ying, Jiang Cheng decides to set that thought aside for now.

His focus shifts to the task at hand—a rather daunting one of appeasing a fierce corpse that happens to be his future brother-in-law. But Jiang Cheng is determined, resolute in his commitment to marrying Nie Huaisang and uniting their lives.

Nothing, not even the eerie events that have unfolded, will deter him from his path. He's determined to make Wei Ying a part of his family, granting him the Jiang name and honor. Jiang Cheng envisions a future where Wei Ying carries his name with pride, standing alongside him and Huaisang as they face whatever challenges lie ahead.