Chapter 2: Bruises
Er-ge,
I must apologize for the time it has taken to respond to your endearing letter. There has been an abundance of abnormal activity in our surrounding villages, as I'm sure you've been informed. This coincides with the memorial day of Second Master Nie's mother, and he is always particularly vulnerable during this time of year, requiring much more of my attention than usual.
The bracelet has become a comfort to me. At night I place it to my heart, and your spiritual energy calms mine into a restful sleep. You have shown me such kindness over the past year, I'm afraid I will never be able to express my full gratitude.
I wish good health to you and your clan. Rest assured we will meet again under prosperous conditions.
-Meng Yao
Nie Mingjue is not a bad person. At least, not in Meng Yao's opinion. He's a rash person. He's a jealous person. His moral compass is divided cleanly in two: the black and the white, absolutely no overlap allowed. His closest confidants often tip-toe around him, and poor Huaisang still finds it necessary to carry around a fan to hide behind when he feels nervous. Nie Mingjue has many flaws, and some of those flaws make the atmosphere a bit tense in his presence.
Nie Mingjue's absence, however, is decidedly worse.
It doesn't happen often (after all, he likes to keep Meng Yao close at hand) but sometimes it's necessary. At the moment, Meng Yao has been left in charge of The Unclean Realm, which means that his time is consumed mostly with playing the referee between Nie Mingjue's cherished Commander and whoever he decides to victimize at any given moment.
He goes after sweet Huaisang first, but Huaisang screams for help. Meng Yao doesn't know exactly how it began, but he does know that Huaisang had been attempting to retrieve a small orange bird from one of his many trap cages when he was cornered. Meng Yao comes in time to see Huaisang release the bird from his cupped hands directly into the Commander's face to give himself time to run. When he reaches Meng Yao, he clings in his typical toddler-like way, his eyes a little too bright for the single tear to be ingenuine.
Meng Yao clasps Huaisang's shoulders and looks over at the Commander, who is sneering.
"Mama Yao to the rescue," he says, and spits into the dirt. "Don't you have some clothes to mend?"
The Commander dismisses Meng Yao's warnings about the repercussions of bullying the sect leader's brother, and then he hastens away with coarse insults and a thinly veiled threat regarding Meng Yao's wellbeing.
Huaisang doesn't want to talk about what happened, and he recovers quickly, but Meng Yao has seen that look many times before in many kinds of people. Huaisang is delicate and beautiful, and life among men who get that particular gleam in their eye is not easy for those who are delicate and beautiful.
Meng Yao sees to it that there are extra protections around Nie Huaisang, inside and outside of his bedchamber.
He fights small battles with the Commander over several things the next few days, all minor infractions, and some that Meng Yao is inclined to just ignore; it's clearly being done out of pettiness.
What he can't ignored, however, is the woman he finds on the ground in front of the Commander's private quarters. Clearly, she's been tossed down the stairs, and Meng Yao hurries to help her stand.
She's young with a beautiful face draped in a lifetime of sadness. She thanks Meng Yao, brushing off her cheaply made robes, and casts an angry, desperate look toward the closed door.
"Miss, please tell me what's happened to you," Meng Yao says, watching her with concern. She has a smear of dirt on her forehead and a fresh scratch on her cheek.
At first, her mouth tightens, as if she will refuse to speak. But then her bottom lip quivers and she draws herself up to her full height, which in itself is not very impressive.
"I'm a prostitute," She states, lifting her chin. "I was promised good compensation to come here, and I went beyond the agreed upon services. But when it came time for payment, I was tossed out like old bathwater. Not even a fleck of silver from that wretched man called Meng Yao."
Meng Yao resists running his hand over his tired eyes. The Commander knows better than to bring commoners into The Unclean Realm. He also knows that the sect leader does not approve of paid companionship. Lastly, he knows that the sect leader finds trickery and deceit to be the lowest forms of behavior. The Commander upholds these standards in Nie Mingjue's presence, but he can't seem to resist if he can get away with it. Apparently, he also thinks he can singlehandedly keep his own reputation clean while soiling Meng Yao's in the process.
"I beg your pardon, Miss," he says, giving her a bow. "I am Meng Yao, advisor to sect leader Nie. The man who resides in those chambers has tricked you in more ways than one, I'm afraid. He's the Commander of our forces, and as such our leadership is parallel. I have no authority to punish him for this transgression, and he will not heed any command of mine to compensate you fairly, or at all."
Although, Meng Yao thinks hotly, he would love to show the Commander exactly how it feels to be used and discarded—painfully, bodily. He has a momentary daydream of hiring a force of strong, overbearing males for this task, but the thought crumbles away as the woman's knees give out.
Meng Yao catches her, helps her regain her footing. Her eyes are now filled with tears.
"I needed medicine," she says, hiding her face in her worn sleeve. "I needed it for my daughter. She's young still, only one-year-old."
The words feel like the stab of a sword in Meng Yao's heart. It throbs painfully as the memory of his mother's tinkling bell voice glitters over his mind. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head to clear it, then reaches into his robes to pull out his own money pouch.
The girl is curled over herself, crying into her hands. Meng Yao takes her wrist and gently extends it. She opens her eyes to look at him, wary as he turns her hand palm-up and places two pieces of gold there.
"Please," he says, curling her fingers over them. "Get your daughter her medicine. And with the other, get something for yourself. Don't trust the Commander's words if you see him again and warn your friends so that they may avoid this same trick."
The woman nods erratically, finally coming back to herself enough to pocket the gold and give a splendid bow.
"Thank you," she says. "Thank you for your generosity. Karma will remember your kindness. And so will I, advisor Meng Yao of the Nie clan."
The same evening, Meng Yao is relieved to receive news that Nie Mingjue is due back in two days' time. But an hour later, he's once again resolving tensions created by the Commander when he refuses to allow Wei Wuxian entrance.
"I was invited," Wei Wuxian says with exasperation the moment one of the guards throws him to the ground in front of Meng Yao.
"What in the world?" Meng Yao asks, hand frozen over a stack of commoners' requests for the help of cultivators.
"He has breached the walls," the guard says. "After disobeying the Commander's dismissal at the gates."
Wei Wuxian is already on his feet, dusting away imaginary debris from his robes. His lower lip juts out in an unmistakable pout. "Nie Huaisang invited me here. And Madam Yu insisted I come, saying that it would do me some good to learn how to behave like a proper advisor. Like you, my good sir." He pauses here to bow dramatically.
The Commander comes up behind him. "Why did you take him here? I told you to bring him straight to me!"
The guard looks ashamed, but Meng Yao stands and rounds the desk. "And what were your intentions with our guest?"
"He's no guest," The Commander barks. He's looking Wei Wuxian up and down like he's a particularly disgusting pile of dung. "He's nothing but trouble. A blight on Lotus Pier and they're trying to unload him onto us."
Meng Yao realizes the Commander simply hates anyone that Nie Mingjue has ever praised. Jealousy, then. And if causing discomfort to the Commander wasn't reward enough, Wei Wuxian is sure to keep Nie Huaisang safe. As Nie Mingjue had once said: Wei Wuxian is talented, capable, and no stranger to defense.
Meng Yao smiles, and in his calmest voice says, "Aren't you being too arrogant? Please don't speak of Young Master Wei in such disrespectful terms." He turns to Wei Wuxian, who is unfairly tall for his age. "After all, it is no secret that Nie Mingjue appreciates your quick wit and talents. He will be delighted to see you when he returns. I will show you to Nie Huaisang's quarters myself. He's been incredibly bored without you."
The Commander storms away once more, but Meng Yao knows it's not the last of the trouble he'll cause. It never is.
Deep in the night, Meng Yao is startled awake by a presence and finds himself pressing Hensheng to the Commander's throat, the Commander looming over him on his bed.
"What do you want?" Meng Yao hisses.
The Commander swallows hard, frozen in place. He knows that Meng Yao's swordsmanship is good, but he obviously didn't realize that his reflexes were even better, asleep or not.
"Earlier," the Commander says, his voice gravelly with agitation. "You made me look foolish in front of that brat. How will it look to the other clans that Jin Guangshan's bastard reject has been thwarting the orders of Nie Mingjue's head commander?"
Meng Yao doesn't so much as blink. "You give orders for military operations. I give orders for domestic affairs and the interrelationships between this clan and others in the absence of Nie Mingjue. If you wish to be respected, you must first act respectful."
"Did your whore mother teach you that?" The Commander sneers. His smile is like writhing maggots in an apple slice. "She must also have been the one to teach you how to suck cock to secure your high position."
"Get out," Meng Yao says, all pretense for cordiality gone. "Before I slit your throat."
The Commander only laughs, seemingly none too convinced that Meng Yao would actually kill him. Meng Yao files this away; underestimating him has proven to be a grave mistake of others in the past.
"No need for threats, little doll. You must be good to have entranced him for so long. You might even be able to win my favor if you show me your talents."
The moment the Commander's hand slides up his arm, Meng Yao knees him hard between the legs, then gashes that same hand, right across the Commander's knuckles. The Commander hits the floor with an unforgiving thud.
Meng Yao stands, stepping down threateningly on the Commander's crotch. He has his knife point secure to the Commander's throat again as he looks down.
"If you try anything like this again," he says, tracing the knife slowly down the Commander's torso, where a lover might lay a path of kisses. "With me or Young Master Nie, I will cut it off and I will post it up in the city square with your crimes spelled out for all to see, and I don't care if I hang for it."
Then he shoves down with his foot and backs away, Hensheng still raised. The Commander scrambles to his feet, clutching one hand to his throat and one between his legs. He looks up at Meng Yao with a new understanding in his eyes. It's not fear, unfortunately; it is recognition of Meng Yao's abilities to do away with the scum in his life. Without a word, he scrabbles away, like a filthy rat having narrowly escaped the trap.
Meng Yao sits heavily on the bed, breathing out in quavering waves. He can still feel the creeping sensation of the Commander's hand crawling up his skin, like a large spider violating his sensibilities.
He shudders and dry heaves, then pulls his sleep robes tighter around himself. Touching of any sort has always evoked strong emotion in him, usually along the lines of horror, anger, and repulsion. He can recall few times being touched in a way that was neither violent nor sickening.
He clasps one of his hands over his bracelet, concentrating on Lan Xichen's energy in order to calm the urge to peel wildly out of his own skin. He thinks back to that first touch between them, just a simple brush of Lan Xichen's fingers over his. The gentle sensation had caressed him down to the bones, and he had been unable to hide his wonder as he looked up into warm, kind eyes. That's the moment his heart had begun beating to a new rhythm.
Meng Yao exhales now, able to see Lan Xichen vividly behind his eyelids, feel the strong and careful touch of his hands, taste the sweet and earthy flavor of his kiss.
Another exhale takes the tight knot from his shoulders. He meditates deeply on these details emblazoned in his mind, still clasping his braceleted wrist. Despite the comfort he soaks in through the jade, Meng Yao does not sleep the rest of the night.
The moment the last spasm calms between Meng Yao's hands, Nie Mingjue's palm cracks like lightning across his cheek. Meng Yao collapses backward and only just manages to catch himself on his elbows, knees bent to the ceiling. He looks upward, watching Nie Mingjue retie the sash at the waist of his robes. He's looking down at Meng Yao from his throne, still panting from having just peaked, but with disgust flickering behind his eyes.
"Meng Yao." His voice is like the earth cracking beneath them. "Who has had you in their bed?"
Meng Yao does his best to keep from flinching. His fear would make him look guilty, and he is guilty of no such sin.
"No one, Chifeng-Zun." He knows better than to say more, and he knows better than to move from his current position, no matter how disadvantageous. He would only get knocked down again.
Nie Mingjue stands and comes closer, until he's towering over Meng Yao's crumpled form. He raises Baxia, and when Meng Yao reflexively raises his arm to shield himself, he feels the whisper of the blade against his wrist cut the jade bracelet free.
For a moment, he's too stunned to move, but when he looks to his wrist, it's clean of any mark. Above him, Nie Mingjue holds the bracelet, quaking with jealousy. "Do not lie to me!"
He's in such a rage that his face has turned an alarming shade of puce. He throws the broken bracelet at Meng Yao, and it strikes his face, just above his eyebrow. Mentally, he takes note of where it lands because he isn't willing to give it up, but he doesn't reach for it. Instead, he keeps his eyes focused on the danger above him.
A flash of resentment courses through him. After everything Meng Yao has done to prove his worth, after all the times he has been on his knees in front of this man, this is where it has gotten him. Nie Mingjue can't see any reason Meng Yao would be gifted anything without having exchanged it for pleasure. He does not realize how much of a sacrifice it is for Meng Yao to do these favors for him, and that doing them for a bracelet, no matter how pretty, was laughable.
He takes a calming breath, pushing back the humiliation burning in his throat. It's difficult to speak, but speak he must.
"If Chifeng-Zun would let me explain," He says, in his best pacifying tone. "It would become apparent nothing unchaste has occurred."
"Explain," Nie Mingjue barks. "I won't have you acting like a whore."
With anyone other than yourself, Meng Yao thinks bitterly, but he swallows back the words. He takes this moment to turn over and kneel properly.
"Last we met at the banquet at Carp Tower, Zewu-Jun had discovered it was my birthday. I have done nothing to deserve his generosity, yet Zewu-Jun's kindness is profound. I declined at first, but it would have been insulting had I refused a second time. I wear it as to not reject his kindness."
He waits. It's almost impossible to know whether this will help him or harm him; Nie Mingjue's decisions are almost always subjective and based solely on his own judgements.
"It was your birthday," he says, voice softer.
Might that be a hint of regret? Meng Yao moves only his eyes upward. Nie Mingjue steps back to his throne and sits heavily, looking defeated. He may be an overbearing wolf most of the time, but somewhere beneath his beastly breast lie a tender heart. No doubt he was now consumed with guilt for having forgotten his concubine's birthday. Not that he will apologize; at least not with words.
"You may keep the bracelet," he says instead, and Meng Yao has the wild urge to laugh at how correctly he had assumed. "Remove it when you come to me for intimacy."
Meng Yao won't allow himself to even try to swallow that last word. Nie Mingjue could consider it anything he liked, but to Meng Yao it was a necessary chore. Nothing more. Nothing less.
He stands, cheek still burning where he had been struck, and collects the bracelet from where it had carelessly fallen. Only a link is damaged, but repair on a bracelet of this value will be too expensive to afford for a long while. Meng Yao will have to keep it safe within his sleeve rather than clasped around his wrist.
As if Nie Mingjue has just done him a grand kindness, Meng Yao circles his arms out before himself and bows.
The marks on Meng Yao's face are still visible a few days later. He'd kept himself locked away during this time, under the cover of reviewing the clan's financial records. There hadn't been much else to do besides check periodically on Huaisang, who was getting along grandly without him now that he had Wei Wuxian by his side. Still, it was a job in the evenings to make sure Huaisang was secure in his quarters after supper, as Nie Mingjue had always required of his younger brother.
Though it is still light out, it takes a bit of exploring this evening before Meng Yao finds them in the hot spring hidden in the surrounding hills. Huaisang and Wei Wuxian are up to their waists in the water, still fully robed and drenching each other with dunking and splashing. On the rocks beside them stands Lan Wangji, expressionless as he watches Wei Wuxian very obviously showing off for him.
Meng Yao stops short. When had Hanguang-Jun gotten here? There had been no word of his arrival, no warning to expect company of any kind. And if one of the Twin Jades is here…
He turns in time to see Lan Xichen emerge around a tree. He must have been followed coming up the mountain without noticing. But he can't make sense of this oversight. He's been more vigilant than ever since the Commander had taken to smiling at him like a crazed hyena.
…Although, it is very possible Lan Xichen has used a total-body silencing spell on himself in order to track Meng Yao without being noticed.
This is confirmed when Lan Xichen closes the space between them and his shoes make no noise against the rough terrain.
"Er-ge," Meng Yao says, and blinks at his own boldness. He has never used the endearment outside of letters. Lan Xichen's smile brightens.
"A-Yao, did I surprise you?"
Meng Yao nods and tries to dip into a bow, but as usual he's caught before he can bend. The warmth of Lan Xichen's touch gives him chills that he's barely able to hide.
"Forgive me," Lan Xichen says. He's still holding Meng Yao's elbows even though they have been lowered back to his waist. "I felt a little mischievous when I saw you coming up the mountain, so I hunted you down."
The words cause a slow swooping feeling in Meng Yao's stomach that is darkly pleasant. Meng Yao smiles back. "I'm glad I've been caught, Zewu-Jun. To what do we owe the pleasure of your and Hanguang-Jun's company?"
Lan Xichen has picked up on the flirtatious tone; Meng Yao can see it in the way his eyes seem to spark to life with colour. Lan Xichen dares another step closer, adding a barely perceptible caress of his thumb through the material of Meng Yao's sleeve.
"Chifeng-Zun has summoned us for a meeting to discuss the new alliance he's building with the Meishan Yu Clan. He hopes to extend them to Gusu Lan."
Before Meng Yao can reply, Lan Xichen looks around him, then pulls him off a little ways, hiding them in a private meadow. When he speaks again, it's in hushed tones.
"Who did this to you?"
Meng Yao touches the healing bruise on his cheek where Lan Xichen's eyes linger. The last he checked it was the ugly colors of an old banana.
Instead of answering, he asks, "How long are you staying?"
Lan Xichen doesn't look pleased at the evasion, but he doesn't press. "Two days. Three nights. We came early." He must read the unspoken question in Meng Yao's expression because his eyes crinkle at the corners. "Wangji and I both have our reasons for wanting a little extra time here."
Meng Yao tries to stop the thrill of that answer from crowding up in his throat, but he fails. Instead, he bites his lip to keep from smiling too hard.
Lan Xichen's touch slides from his elbows to his hands. He holds them out, studying Meng Yao's bare wrists.
"A-Yao," he says. "Have I been too forward? I don't want to push you away. I was concerned when it took so long to receive a reply, and now I see that my gift to you—"
Meng Yao shakes his head, and Lan Xichen trails off. He uses the force of cultivation to bring the bracelet from his inner sleeve into his palm. Lan Xichen exhales when he sees it.
"I've kept it with me since that night, even after it broke."
Their eyes meet at the same time. Meng Yao offers an apologetic smile, and Lan Xichen's knotted brow relaxes. He makes a sign and places two fingers to the broken link, which instantly repairs itself. The chain uncoils as Lan Xichen pulls it up with two slender fingertips.
"May I?" He asks. Meng Yao holds his wrist out obediently. The bracelet will hold more power now that Lan Xichen is claiming him with it himself.
Once the slight weight of the jewelry is back in place, Meng Yao dares to open the conversation further. It would be best for him to let it die now, before he's too invested. But he can't help wanting to soak up as much of Zewu-Jun's sunshine as he can before the perpetual rains come again.
"Nothing you have done to me has been unwelcome. In fact, I've been dreaming about it so often I'm not sure I remember how it really feels. I had hoped Zewu-Jun wanted to refresh my memory."
He remembers every delicious moment, of course, and he's sure Lan Xichen knows it's simply a flirtatious excuse for an invitation; Lan Xichen's pulse is now beating visibly in his neck. His throat works in a hard, slow swallow just before leaning in to claim Meng Yao's lips.
This time, Meng Yao allows his arms to go around his neck as the kiss deepens, and with perfect coordination, they break apart just long enough for Lan Xichen to hoist him up onto a boulder, bringing them eye level.
Meng Yao's instincts tell him to wrap his legs around Lan Xichen's slender waist and pull him in closer. But the vulnerability of opening his thighs up is too great for him to manage at the moment. He settles on pressing a single knee between both of Lan Xichen's and knotting his hands into the luxurious folds on the chest of his robes.
Lan Xichen draws in just close enough for Meng Yao to feel the warmth of his body. It has the incongruous effect of making him crave even more, an urge completely novel to him. He's unable to exam it as Lan Xichen makes his next move: trailing fingertips over Meng Yao's cheek, taking in his eyes, nose, lips like he's memorizing a most precious atlas. He pauses to press the pad of his index finger just over the spot where one of Meng Yao's dimples is currently hiding.
"So cute," Lan Xichen whispers.
The kiss this time is slower, but hotter. Meng Yao feels like he's losing himself beneath the gentle seduction of tongue and fingertips. He's not confident that his answering movements are right, but he trusts the soft hums that reverberate in his mouth from Lan Xichen's throat. By the time they pull apart, they're both flushed and breathless.
Lan Xichen rests his forehead against Meng Yao's, eyes closed, and Meng Yao is keenly aware that the sacred Lan headband is pressed against his skin.
He doesn't know if this feeling is excitement or dread coiling deep in his stomach. He doesn't know if Lan Xichen realizes what's happening, if it's being done deliberately or if he simply doesn't consider the headband as hallowed as he is meant to. Meng Yao doesn't know if all of Lan Xichen's lovers have had this same privilege; he doesn't know if he is even considered one of them.
The answers, as they come to him, make him feel like he's swallowed a rotten peach: Probably he knows, probably they have, probably he's not.
His descent into misery is cut short when Lan Xichen's hand skims up his side. The sensation is pleasantly ticklish and overwhelming. Meng Yao gasps out a particularly embarrassing noise, almost like a mewl, his knee sliding up the inside of Lan Xichen's thigh. It may be nothing much to Lan Xichen, but even through layers of robes, Meng Yao feels acutely vulnerable this way.
"Mmn," Lan Xichen murmurs, a smile in his voice. "You're very sensitive here, aren't you?"
He repeats the movement, and with a jolt Meng Yao can't control, he gasps a second time, both knees now squeezing Lan Xichen's leg. He nods in agreement, paralyzed with sensation.
He knows then that he wants more. He doesn't know just quite how much more; the thought of giving himself over to someone completely has a sharp edge to it, one that he doesn't think he can swallow even for Lan Xichen. But he knows he's not ready to give up this romance, whatever it turns out to be. If one day he joins the others as a past lover of Zewu-Jun, he will be happy to have been called a lover by him momentarily.
Meng Yao lifts his eyelashes to meet the dark liquid gaze still on his face. With deliberate movements, he places his hands on Lan Xichen's collarbones and glides them upward to link behind his neck. He scoots a bit closer, bringing their lips together to whisper against them.
"Come find me in my rooms tonight. I want to give you more."
Lan Xichen makes a punched-out sound, and Meng Yao smiles into another kiss. All he knows how to do is go down on his knees, but for once the thought is unbearably enticing.
Notes:
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