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aroberukaFandom: MDZS/SVSSS
Challenge/Prompt: Rare Pair Exchange 2021 (Pinch Hit)
AO3 Link: here
***
There is one universal truth Nie Huaisang learned from Wei Wuxian and confirmed for himself many times since: if you want to find information, start by finding the nearest wine shop.
The Before Dawn Bloom was apparently something of a local celebrity, a point of pride for a village that would otherwise have long since fallen off the map. A few questions were enough to get not only the waiter, but the other patrons going as well, all except the only other traveller, a Cang Qiong Mountain disciple dressed in the sober but elegant manner of Qiong Ding Peak and who was gazing off into the distance, politely keeping up the pretence of not eavesdropping on a stranger's conversation, though there was no escaping it in such a small space. In no time at all Nie Huaisang had all the information he could want and more: yes, such a flower could be found right here, on top of this very mountain; only you had to look for it at night, for as soon as the light of the sun touched it it would burrow deep underground, where it would slumber until the next sunset...
"And it only blooms just before dawn, see? That's why it's called the Before Dawn Bloom."
"..."
"..."
"Are you serious? Isn't that too convenient?"
"Cousin, how else would you call a flower that only blooms just before dawn?"
No-one had an answer to that, though Nie Huaisang privately agreed this was all a bit too on-the-nose. But the whole region was like that — animals, plants, even places named with such a heavy hand, like some idiot had once roamed the land on a mad naming spree, going for the low hanging fruit every single time. The complete lack of subtlety rankled his poet's soul, but he had to admit it made his search easier.
And it wasn't just the names either! This ease-of-use extended to other things as well! For instance: though the plant's pale green leaves and bright red flowers would normally stand out quite well against the rocky terrain it favoured, the need to harvest it before dawn should have negated this advantage. However, spotting the flower was actually very easy, for a strange shimmering light would emanate from it whenever someone got close eno–
"You don't know that!"
"Of course I know that!"
"What, have you seen it?"
"Yes!"
This got everyone's attention. Even the Cang Qiong Mountain disciple paused in his contemplation of the wall and took a sip of his tea. Under such intense scrutiny, the man who had seen the flower wilted a bit.
"Alright, so maybe I haven't seen it. But I know someone who has!"
After a brief consensus, everyone agreed this was almost as good. Pleased to have found his audience, the man who had not seen the flower, but knew someone who had went on:
"You know Old Li, down by the river? Well his youngest left home one day, said the folks down in Meishan were recruiting for a war and that he was gonna join and make something of himself. Next thing we hear the war is over, and there's not even a body for his parents to bury. And Old Li's woman, she can't bear it, see? Stops eating, stops sleeping, starts talking to ghosts. The doctor says it's tiredness of the head and there's nothing he can do, so Old Li goes up the mountain that night, all of his own, and comes back the next day with some nasty wounds and the flower clutched between his bloody fingers."
"..."
"..."
"And???"
"And that's it."
"No it's not! How'd he get hurt?"
"How should I know?!"
"Well, did it work?!"
"Of course it worked! You don't think Old Li would go through all that trouble only to get the wrong flower, do you?", said the man who had not seen the flower, but knew someone who might have.
"I think they made some tea with it," he added with ill grace.
And that, apparently, was that. Nie Huaisang had heard more than enough anyway; his drink paid for, he folded his fan and left.
⁂
Before Dawn Mountain stood over the small farming community nestled at her feet like a watchful giant, a threat or a comfort in turns. The sun was setting behind her peak, painting the landscape in swathes of deep purple and blue, as Nie Huaisang left the wine shop. No road led up the mountain, but a small dirt path — a hunting trail, most likely — snaked through the undergrowth. With a resolve of purpose that would have shocked all who knew him, Nie Huaisang started up the trail.
If a pro reader like Peerless Cucumber had been around, they would have much to say about Nie Huaisang's current course of action. They would say, hold on, isn't this guy supposed to be some useless layabout? What's he doing traipsing around some random mountain? Why would he extend so much effort, just for a stupid flower?
The explanation, however, was both simple and quite reasonable:
Nie Huaisang's brother was dying.
No-one had said anything, but if Nie Huaisang was very good at acting clueless if it got him out of — anything that resembled work, really — he had never been good at actually being clueless. He knew the signs: the insomnia; the long periods of apathy that would suddenly give way to explosive rages. The way Nie Mingjue would talk to himself sometimes — disjointed, paranoid rants with no grounding in reality.
Talking to ghosts, the man had said.
Nie Huaisang's brother was dying. Clarity wasn't enough anymore. Nothing was. And so for once in his life Nie Huaisang had done the work, drawn the plans, and eventually found an excuse to come here alone, all so he could traipse around some random mountain looking for a stupid flower.
All for a fool's hope.
There were places in this world so steeped in spiritual energy they could restore life or limb. There were wonders in this world that could bring about miracles. The Before Dawn Bloom was one such wonder, a flower so delicate it would only bloom for a few minutes each day, in the time before dawn where the cold dark of night starts to lift, but hasn't yet given way to the stark light of day; a flower blessed with a perfect balance of energies that could in turn bring balance to anyone's qi. In a farmer's wife with no cultivation of her own, it had settled some minor disorder, but that could be applied elsewhere.
Crisp air and clear skies heralded a pleasant night; it was good weather for a hike, though still far too warm for Nie Huaisang's liking.
Soon enough, the village disappeared from view, hidden by the trees, and then it was just him and the mountain. Lost in the lush greenery, surrounded by the evening song of birds (babblers, finchbills — was that a laughingthrush?), it was easy to forget where he was, and why. Caught in the moment, he found himself lingering ever so slightly, looking for specks of red or white in those high branches.
He was still missing the laughingthrush when he became aware of a presence behind him.
Just ahead, the path took a sharp turn as the true climb began. Nie Huaisang picked up the pace until he had passed the bend, then slowed down again, looking for a good spot from which to watch the path below.
His efforts were soon rewarded by a different kind of bird. Through the trees, glimpses of charcoal grey: the Qiong Ding disciple from earlier, making no effort to hide his presence. He was walking fast enough that he would inevitably catch up to Nie Huaisang, but not so fast that the catching up would seem deliberate. It could have been a coincidence, a chance meeting on the road, but for the simple fact that this road led nowhere, and no cultivator was as uninterested in rumours as this one had pretended to be.
Still, two could play at that game.
Nie Huaisang unfolded his fan, adopting the leisurely gait of an evening stroll.
Soon enough, the Qiong Ding disciple had caught up. To Nie Huaisang's surprise, he was greeted with a warm smile, not as a stranger but as the Second Master of the Nie Clan. Caught off guard, he matched the man's bow, wracking his memory in a desperate attempt to remember his name before he caused a diplomatic incident. The relationship between the Nie Clan and Cang Qiong Sect could be best described as "too far away for us to care"; Nie Huaisang could not count the occasions he'd had to meet one of their disciples face to face, because he would have to stop at one; and yet his mind was, frustratingly, drawing a blank.
But the man introduced himself without losing his smile or missing a beat:
“My apologies, Nie-er-gongzi. I know you by sight, but we were never formally introduced. I am Yue Qingyuan, of Cang Qiong Sect's Qiong Ding Peak.”
And, yes, Nie Huaisang could place him now: a tall, slender youth who had shadowed the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect Leader during last year's Baifeng Shan hunt. Since the Immortal sects so rarely left their mountains, their presence had been a point of pride for Clan Leader Jin, but while the Peak Lords mingled with their host and the junior disciples eagerly joined the night hunt, the senior disciples had been doing their own hunting — for trade deals. They'd had their own war to contend with in recent years, and the western lands were notoriously unsafe, so close as they were to the Demon Realm. In times like these, a bit of poaching could go a long way. He himself had jumped at the chance to commission a few pieces from the Qing Jing scholars, but hardly paid the rest of them any mind.
He paid mind now. Nie Huaisang wasn't so clueless that he didn't recognize the name of the man who had appeared, seemingly out of thin air, to rise through the ranks like a shooting star. This was the future sect leader, out there on his own.
"Nie-er-gongzi, are you travelling on your own? These are dangerous lands, and we seem to be heading the same way. Should we walk together for a while?"
This was smoothly done — clearly an indirect offer of help, but one with just enough plausible deniability that Nie Huaisang could not have accused him of insulting his (non-existent) fighting prowess, even if he'd been so inclined.
And it was not a bad idea either. When Nie Huaisang had planned his journey, he had planned to make it alone. His mind had conjured up all kinds of reasons why, but the truth of the matter was he could not bear to expose his hope to anyone else, for fear that it would immediately shrivel and die under the cold harsh light of reality. Faced with help willingly given, however, he could not think of a reason to decline.
Besides, he saw not an ounce of deception in this man — shrewdness, certainly, and an understanding of how to play the game, but there was nothing fake about the warmth of his smile or the gentleness of his countenance. Nie Huaisang was strongly reminded of Lan Xichen, and that connection immediately put him at ease.
"Then let's walk together, Yue-gongzi."
Yue Qingyuan all but beamed at him, and they made their way up the mountain together, the Qiong Ding disciple easily slowing down to match Nie Huaisang's shorter stride.
⁂
The hike was proving to be hard, gruelling work, and Nie Huaisang loathed every part of it except for the company.
And Yue Qingyuan was pleasant company, quick to steer the conversation away from personal matters but friendly enough in all other respects. He was well-versed in art and poetry, though he held no love for either, reciting facts like someone who had been expected to learn and so had gotten the learning out of the way quickly and efficiently before moving on to more interesting matters. Aside from this tragic lack of taste, he was the very model of what a young master should be: polite and composed, personable and even-tempered. He had an amazing memory for people — not just the connections and ancestry Nie Huaisang had been taught at the knee, but personal details as well; after a while, Nie Huaisang started name dropping on purpose, just to see what bits of trivia would emerge from the depths of his mind.
He was a hard man to read, but his eyes came alive at talk of birds or fans, and Nie Huaisang soon found himself basking in the light of his undivided attention.
More importantly, and to Nie Huaisang's delight, he was also turning out to be an attentive companion, slightly overzealous in his concern, extending a steadying hand whenever it seemed like Nie Huaisang might possibly need one. Nie Huaisang, who had spent his whole life using and abusing the big brother instinct and saw no reason to break such a remarkable streak, took full advantage of his benevolence, dramatically stumbling on every crack or pebble; if one of the rising stars of the cultivation world wanted to treat his poor pitiful self like he was made of glass, who was he to disagree?
He'd always had a thing for being pampered. His brother would call him spoiled, and shameless, but his brother did much of the spoiling, and Nie Huaisang felt no shame in letting others help, especially when helping came so naturally to them. Besides, he was certain the two of them made quite a sight. An artist at heart, Nie Huaisang loved beauty in all its forms, and Yue Qingyuan with his face cast in soft talisman light, Yue Qingyuan with his hair maintained by a simple black band, sober yet elegant, Yue Qingyuan smiling kindly as Nie Huaisang showed off his fan — well.
The moon hung high over the mountain, an almost perfect circle of silvery light. It must have been close to midnight, the song of birds long since replaced by the rush and rattle of nocturnal fauna running around unseen, when they came across running water that barely earned its adjective: a small rivulet of a torrent moving lazily through the shrubbery, like somewhere up ahead a cup had been spilled and no-one had bothered to clean up the mess. Not long after, they reached an opening in the trees, a small hollow where a set of three connected pools laid in wait, fed by a steady waterfall.
It was a sight for sore eyes. Moon and stars twinkled in the calm waters, and once his eyes got used to the sight Nie Huaisang caught a separate flicker of light: fireflies, milling about their business. There was a tranquil restfulness to this place that called for meditation, for a moment of quiet contemplation between the earth and sky.
To his surprise, Yue Qingyuan called for a break before he himself had the chance to. They made their way to the middle pool, where a flat outcropping of rock stretched over the water. Nie Huaisang threw himself down, far too tired to mind himself; it seemed to him that he had only just closed his eyes when he suddenly woke up with a start. He blinked, disoriented. Beside him, Yue Qingyuan was meditating, eyes closed, moonlit shadows throwing his cheekbones into sharp relief.
Nie Huaisang masked his confusion by carefully emphasizing every stretch and yawn while he got his bearings — judging by the moon, he had not slept for very long; no more than an hour, if that — an effort that was completely wasted on his travelling companion. Then he snapped his fan open. Like this was a cue he'd been waiting for, Yue Qingyuan opened his eyes. When he turned around Nie Huaisang gave him his best hapless smile, an expression he had often practised on Lan Xichen to great effect.
"Ah, sorry, sorry! I did not mean to fall asleep."
"We had the time to spare. Besides, this is a better place than most. How are you feeling, Nie-er-gongzi?"
The question was pointed, and Nie Huaisang had to admit he was indeed feeling quite refreshed, like he'd just enjoyed a proper night's sleep in his own bed instead of a quick nap on solid rock. It seemed the deep spiritual energy of this place could affect even a layabout like him.
His impromptu nap had left him hungry. Since Yue Qingyuan seemed content to remain here for the moment, Nie Huaisang felt no compunction rooting through his own sleeves for provisions — he had packed plenty, motivated by caution and a strong desire never to skip a meal if he could help it. He expected to eat alone — Nie Huaisang, with his weak cultivation base, could not have done the whole hike without eating, but Yue Qingyuan should not have this problem — but to his surprise Yue Qingyuan was quick to offer his own share.
They broke bread in companionable silence, and then Nie Huaisang did what he had been trying not to do and, gathering all his courage, looked at the way still ahead of them.
For all that they'd already walked for hours, the mountain still seemed hopelessly tall.
"How long do you think it will take us to reach the peak?"
"Quite a while," said Yue Qingyuan with not even a hint of dread, as if he hadn't been walking just as long as Nie Huaisang. "But we won't have to go that far. A farmer found that flower, and so a farmer must be able to reach it."
Ah, so we’re not being coy about it anymore then. It was a good point, too, though it did not do much to comfort Nie Huaisang. He acknowledged the answer with a thoughtful hum, and then asked, curious to see if he would get an answer at all, if there was a limit to this man’s forbearance:
"Say, Yue-gongzi — what do you want that flower for anyway?"
The question hung between them. For a moment, Nie Huaisang was certain he would get nothing at all; then Yue Qingyuan deflected instead:
"The same thing as anyone, I imagine. Such a flower would be precious to any cultivator."
"But surely Cang Qiong has its own remedies, and doesn’t send the future sect leader alone on an errand like this."
"Ah — I suppose you could say it's more of a personal matter."
"Oh?"
Here Yue Qingyuan hesitated. For the first time, there was a breach in his serenity; infuriatingly, it did not make him any easier to read.
"My brother..." he started, and immediately stopped.
Nie Huaisang's heart gave a painful lurch at this unexpected echo of his own troubles. He waited, patiently, no longer in the mood for playful banter, half sorry he’d brought it up already, but it seemed Yue Qingyuan was done humouring him. And just like that, the smile was back on his face, gentle as a summer breeze — so the friendliness doubled as a shield, inviting openness and trust while giving none in return. Nie Huaisang found himself inexplicably saddened by the thought.
Yue Qingyuan stood up, straight-backed and straight-faced, unshakeable and by all accounts unshaken. Nie Huaisang would have believed it entirely, if he hadn't just gotten a glimpse of the currents that hid under the calm surface.
"Nie-er-gongzi, are you well-rested? We should not linger here any longer."
Nie Huaisang let out a pained groan.
⁂
After that, there was no more path for them to follow, only luck, instinct, and their combined knowledge of mountains. The way forward was an unpleasant mess of brambles and jutting rocks; more and more they had to help themselves with their hands to keep going. Soon, they would not be able to walk at all.
Yue Qingyuan was quiet now, all of his attention focused on their surroundings. Well aware that he had been the one to breach their tacit agreement to stay out of each other's business, Nie Huaisang let him have his peace. He did not have the breath to spare anyway. The steepness of the climb had quickly undone all the benefits of their earlier break: with every step, his legs screamed in agony; his lungs felt one size too small for his chest; and the higher they climbed, the more acutely aware he was of the open sky at his back. A child of the mountains, Nie Huaisang had never been afraid of heights, but something about tonight — the dark, the quiet, or the sense of urgency — made him feel small and helpless.
They had reached a narrow ledge, not quite wide enough for the two of them to walk side by side, when Nie Huaisang finally gave in, begging for mercy, or at the very least another break. He was still trying to catch his breath, cursing every thought that had led him here only to get caught on the sharp edge of his brother, dying, and him, knowing he could have done more and hadn't, when Yue Qingyuan, who had been looking down and behind them, finally turned to him and, without losing an inch of his smile, said:
"We are being hunted."
⁂
"Wh-what, what, what," Nie Huaisang said, then tried again: "What do you mean, we're being hunted?"
"Since we left the pools. There, look."
And Nie Huaisang saw it: a shadow amidst shadows, there and gone again. Oh. Leaves rustling in its wake, oh.
Oh no.
No no no no no no no this was not happening.
"What, what is that? What is — what is that?"
Somewhere in his panic, his hand had found Yue Qingyuan's sleeve and was now clutching it like a lifeline. A weaker man might have felt shame, clinging to an almost stranger, but at the moment shame was vastly overshadowed by the deep, unreasoning fear of some unseen beast stalking them in the dark.
To his credit, any irritation Yue Qingyuan might have felt was kept strictly under lock and key. Even his eyes didn't reveal anything as he quietly but firmly removed Nie Huaisang's hand from his sword arm.
"We can't be caught out here," he decided, and Nie Huaisang was pushed, prodded and occasionally manhandled onto ever higher ground, up until they finally reached a wider stretch of almost-flat ground.
From there, the only way up was a vertical wall. Nie Huaisang immediately backed up against it. Yue Qingyuan stood between him and the night, hand on weapon undrawn. For once in his life, Nie Huaisang desperately wished he carried his. He had refused to, ever since he had thrown it on the training ground floor in a fit of pique at his brother's pig-headedness. Even a layabout had his pride, and he'd thought–
the region was strange, but safe, he'd thought–
low-level beasts or walking corpses might be trouble for regular folks, but there was nothing out here he couldn't outrun, he'd thought–
carrying his sword was just begging for some brainless moron to challenge him to a duel, and then where would he be?
And now, where was he?
And what did it matter anyway? With or without his saber, how could he protect himself from anything? He didn't care to fight, so he had never learned, just like with everything else he hadn't cared for. There were other people for that. There was his brother, and the rock-solid certainty that nothing could shake Nie Huaisang's comfortable world, not so long as he was around.
But his brother was not there. His brother was dying. And now–
There was no sound, no warning. One blink, and Nie Huaisang was jumping at nothing; one blink, and the creature was rushing at him from the left, a shadow in movement, a rippling mass of fur muscle flashing teeth are those quills oh Heavens claws shit shit SHIT–
Before he could even start to scream, Yue Qingyuan stood before him.
There was no flash of steel in the moonlight. Yue Qingyuan didn't even draw his blade. Instead there was a pulse of spiritual power, gentle but unyielding. Even Nie Huaisang could feel the pressure. And, it its wake: fight-lust, unexpectedly familiar. Baxia was the same. Powerful spiritual weapons got restless sometimes, and this one was itching for a fight.
As quickly as it had appeared, the beast turned tail and ran, vanishing into the night.
Nie Huaisang waited, one blink, two blinks, before he started to believe it. Even then, he kept hugging the wall until he saw Yue Qingyuan relax minutely, a better sign that the immediate danger was passed than his own fear-sharpened senses.
"Is it gone?" he whimpered.
"For now. It was testing us, I think."
"What was it, do you know?"
"Some kind of demon, I'm sure; but it was so fast, I couldn't clearly see–"
"Tiger-shaped," Nie Huaisang said readily, because that much had been terrifyingly clear to him. "Full of teeth and claws."
"I heard hooves," said Yue Qingyuan, uncertain.
"It had claws", insisted Nie Huaisang who wished he hadn't noticed those. "And long fur — very long fur, actually, it was trailing behind, almost like — porcupine quills?"
Recognition dawned in Yue Qingyuan's eyes.
"Long-haired tiger goat. Of course. No wonder it's been following us so easily."
"What."
"I know; there shouldn't be anything this dangerous so far from the borderlands, but it happens from time to time. It must be–"
"No, I mean: what. What does that mean? Is it a tiger or a goat?"
"Neither. Or, both?"
"That doesn't make any sense, Yue-gongzi."
"Demons rarely do."
Nie Huaisang huffed in disbelief and closed his eyes. The night felt like it had gone on forever. Like it would keep going forevermore. His body was exhausted; his thought felt sluggish; but he tried to make the picture fit. A mystical flower, a dangerous beast.
Something clicked.
"Yue-gongzi, what are the odds that it's guarding the flower?"
No answer. But a frown briefly disturbed the still waters. The odds were good, Nie Huaisang deduced.
"Then that means we have to be close. But, ah–"
But there would be no avoiding it then. If they stayed, so would the beast. If they doubled back and tried to find another way around, the beast would follow. Sooner or later, it would attack again.
Nie Huaisang swallowed past the lump in his throat. Now would be a good time to mention his late start, flailing cultivation, or complete lack of any kind of fighting prowess. But before he could quite get around to it, Yue Qingyuan squeezed his arm gently. The touch meant to comfort and reassure them both, Nie Huaisang thought distantly.
"Nie-er-gongzi. Are you okay?"
"I'm not. Yue-gongzi, I don't know what you've heard about me, but back home I am pretty well-known for, ah, not being much use in a situation like this."
"Ah. Should we head back, then?"
"We've come all this way..."
"Yes, and now all this way is proving to be more dangerous than anticipated. There is..." Yue Qingyuan took a deep breath, and it seemed to Nie Huaisang that the next sentence came to him from very far away, an echo of a past he could not start to guess at. "There is no need for us to rush ahead thoughtlessly. There will be other nights, after all."
He did not want to turn back, Nie Huaisang realized. But he would do it anyway.
And that was it, wasn't it? His way out, simple as that. All he had to do was not argue, something he was quite capable of no matter what his brother may say, and Yue Qingyuan would escort him all the way back down the mountain, to the little wine shop in the little village, and then turn right back around and do the climb again, on his own and with a full day wasted for his efforts, and Nie Huaisang was pretty sure that if simply asked Yue Qingyuan would even bring him the damn flower, because if one thing had been made clear to him over the course of the night, it was that Yue Qingyuan felt an urge to be helpful that bordered on the pathological. Nie Huaisang could go back down and find somewhere comfortable to wait and–
And all he had to do was indebt himself and his clan to Cang Qiong sect. And all he had to do was accept that, even with his brother's life hanging in the balance, he would not do everything he could, because in the end that was just who he was. And all he had to do was–
–exploit a good man's kindness.
No-one could ever have accused Nie Huaisang of working hard. Certainly no-one would accuse him of an excess of scruples either. But he thought of Lan Xichen, taking on everything people asked of him and more with a smile on his face, even when he already had so much on his plate. He thought of Yue Qingyuan, extending a hand whenever he stumbled as if the long walk hadn't left his own energy flagging. His simple but genuine joy at having his offers of help accepted.
"... if we stay, how sure are you that you can protect me."
"I will protect you."
"It's not a joke, you know. I really am useless. I don't like to fight, so I never learned. I don't have any secret weapons, or hidden talismans, or or or anything else that could be useful to you, I–"
"Nie-er-gongzi."
"I'll hide behind you. I'll cling to you if I have to."
"That is fine. Nie-er-gongzi," said Yue Qingyuan, and his eyes were sure and his smile held steady. He was holding Nie Huaisang's gaze. He hadn't done that before, Nie Huaisang abruptly realized. He'd been faking it well, but he'd kept his distance all the same. But there was no distance between them now; Yue Qingyuan was wholly open to him, and what Nie Huaisang saw in his eyes was determination, fed by a desperation that rivalled his own, steely where his own felt ready to crumble. "No matter what we do, I won't let you come to any harm tonight."
And Heavens help them both, but Nie Huaisang believed him.
⁂
The plan, in the end, was simple.
All they had to do was wait.
Nie Huaisang kept a talisman alight. Before him Yue Qingyuan was tense, ready to spring into action at the first change in the wind. He still hadn't drawn his sword.
It was the waiting, Nie Huaisang thought, that would be the end of him, judging by the way his heart kept slamming into his throat. He was keenly aware that he was the weak spot, the vulnerable one, all too easy to isolate and drag off into the night. As much as he believed Yue Qingyuan wouldn't let him, he didn't have it in him not to be terrified.
How much time passed like this, he would never know. He had long since lost track of the hours, only knew through instinct and memory of his misspent youth that dawn was drawing near.
Then, softly, softly: a brush of spiritual energy; Nie Huaisang looked up and behind him.
The mountainside came aglow with flowers.
They were everywhere, growing not from the earth but through cracks in the rock, bathing the landscape in a soft golden shimmer, lighting up in clumps, starting close to the ground and going up, up,
and around the beast in their midst, somehow clinging to the sheer vertical wall, what–
Nie Huaisang tried to shout a warning, only got half of it out before the beast was pouncing, straight at Yue Qingyuan's back.
It all went in a flash. Yue Qingyuan dropped — let go, on purpose, like a madman — his sword broke his fall immediately pushed, hard, heaving the creature straight off his back somehow his sword flew to his hand and then they were off, fighting, barely visible in the shimmering light. Nie Huaisang, talisman held high, could not hope to follow but he could hear them, from left to right and back again, a grunt, a hit, a snarl. And still no telltale flash of steel.
An unpleasant realization washed over him: that if the beast was truly guarding the flowers, then this was their best chance to get them, and since Yue Qingyuan was otherwise occupied the task inevitably fell to him.
Nie Huaisang looked up. The closest flower was just out of arm's reach, tantalizingly close, hopelessly far. How long until it sunk back into the rock? How long? How could they afford to wait?
Nie Huaisang weighed his options against his courage.
Then he threw the talisman to the ground and started climbing.
Just as he was reaching the first clump of flowers, the beast let out a frightful roar — of pain, it was a roar of pain, it had to be, because if it wasn’t, and if Yue Qingyuan was hurt, Nie Huaisang would never live it down, possibly very literally. It didn't matter now anyway. He held on tight, his whole body tense, arms and legs screaming for mercy, as he plucked a handful of flowers and carelessly tossed them into his qiankun sleeve. Higher up, more flowers. The night was terrifyingly quiet. Higher still. Then from below, an aborted sound of worry–
and just as Nie Huaisang started to think, that was enough, that had to be enough now, he was going to climb down and they would leave and he would sleep in the carriage home and then for about a week straight afterwards–
the beast landed above him, snarling and bloody and fangs!, in his face!!, and he–
let go.
He didn't have to fall far. Arms wrapped across his back, under his knees; Yue Qingyuan, standing on his sword, braced for impact, all grace and elegance forgotten in the heat of the moment; the sword almost hit the cliff, went plummeting down, down into the trees below before finally coming to a gradual stop in mid-air.
Nie Huaisang’s heart was fit to burst in his chest. Yue Qingyuan’s arms were trembling. This was a highly inappropriate position for them both to be in, but like in one of those romance novels Wei Wuxian used to mock mercilessly they remained like this for a long time, a bit dazed, a bit breathless, almost nose to nose with each other. Yue Qingyuan's face was flushed from the exertion. For the first time, his hair was out of place. Nie Huaisang had the incongruous thought that this was a good look on him.
The thought pulled a raw, pained chuckle from his throat, and before he could think twice he buried his face in Yue Qingyuan's shoulder, laughing and crying at the same time, all the fear and tension pouring out of him in one messy outburst, as Yue Qingyuan slowly brought them back to earth.
⁂
The rising sun found them once again sitting by the pools. The beast had not followed them down, the only sign of its relentless hunt a nasty bite wound that had torn deep into Yue Qingyuan's left arm. Nie Huaisang had almost passed out at the sight — the thought of that arm around his waist earlier, supporting most of his weight. Instead he had taken the first aid kit proffered by Yue Qingyuan and helped him clean the wound. Thanks to Yue Qingyuan's deep spiritual pool, it was already starting to heal, but that only made it all the more important to keep it clean and dry.
After, Nie Huaisang had dug into his sleeves and produced the last of his osmanthus cakes. He could always get more before heading back to Qinghe. Anyway he felt they'd rather earned it.
Strange. Earlier on, he had been so eager to get off this mountain as soon as possible, yet now that their quest was done, the flowers collected, a dozen of them sitting pretty in his lap — he felt in no hurry to leave. Beside him, Yue Qingyuan seemed to share his reluctance. He still sat in a proper posture only Lan Qiren could have scoffed at, but he hadn't fixed his hair, and there was a relaxation in his shoulders that hadn't been there before.
It was kind of nice — sitting together, not saying anything, watching the sun rise, dappling the still water with touches of light. The dawn was fully breaking and there was ample time, now, to enjoy a moment of peace.
Yue Qingyuan’s hand had not left his sword since they’d landed, but he looked at ease, body and mind freed of a tension Nie Huaisang hadn’t even noticed was there. With his face tinted gold by the soft light of dawn, he cut a fine figure. On impulse, Nie Huaisang slid a flower in his hair, just above his ear. When Yue Qingyuan turned to stare at him, openly baffled, he did his best to keep a straight face. And wouldn't you know it: the future sect leader blushed quite prettily. Nie Huaisang had to look away, pleased and a bit overwhelmed without knowing why. Anyway it was not such a big deal. A boyish prank; an artist's whimsy. It had felt right, to add a dash of colour to all that charcoal grey. Yes, that's what he would say, if Yue Qingyuan asked.
But Yue Qingyuan didn't ask, just let his hand brush against the flowers in Nie Huaisang's lap, still shimmering faintly in one last and desperate bid for attention. Yue Qingyuan looked at them in bemused wonder.
"Why does it do that?"
"I don't know — I really don't know."
And Nie Huaisang found that the night had one last surprise in store for him: the head disciple of Qiong Ding Peak had dimples that only showed when he laughed.
⁂
Nie Huaisang didn't foresee more mountain-climbing in his future, but maybe he would make an exception for Tian Gong. The place certainly seemed like it had much to offer.
And surely his brother would not begrudge him this renewed interest in his cultivation studies.
