During the days that followed, Nie Huaisang slowly and carefully approached Meng Yao. It hadn't been very complicated; they were already in a friendly relationship and all Nie Huaisang had to do was "inadvertently" run into him as he was coming out of administrative meetings, make an elegant fan wave near his eyes to capture his attention and invite him with courtesy to come and walk with him in the gardens, since he wanted to have the opinion of a refined person about his latest artwork. At each time, Meng Yao had smiled in a humble and flattered way and accepted his invitation, his eyes shining a beautiful light as if Nie Huaisang was doing him a huge favor by considering his opinion.
At first, Nie Huaisang had difficulty controlling himself and dealing with Meng Yao's gentle presence near him. Now that he knew he wasn't taken, his heart was racing and pounding desperately fast at every moment; the very idea that Meng Yao might possibly want a romantic relationship with him made him feverish with anticipation. However, he had made a smart decision to act with the greatest caution. The last thing he wanted was to scare Meng Yao, or worse, to make him think he only wanted to sleep with him. The latter would be the worst case scenario, and was a probable thing; since Meng Yao had seemed so blind and incredulous that someone in high rank would be romantically interested in him, and was so uncomfortable about his birth situation, he might very well feel upset and hurt if Nie Huaisang was trying the 'salacious seduction' approach.
So their outings had thus far been very friendly, although Nie Huaisang had taken care to speak in an even deeper and more emotional way than usual, gradually of course. He had started by explaining to Meng Yao why he liked such types of flowers, what their colors aroused in him, and then that he liked to walk outside in the wind feeling free, that he appreciated that Meng Yao came to share these moments of freedom with him. Meng Yao had seemed charmed by all this and also opened up a little more, each time causing Nie Huaisang to tremble inside. Meng Yao spoke so well. He had the best words and the most vibrant voice... All of this raised immense creative euphoria in Nie Huaisang's mind. Despite seeing him every day, he had begun to paint his face again in the evening, on returning from an outing with him, overwhelmed by the images of his black eyes, his lips, his breathtaking face under the sunset.
Even though he longed to show all of his portraits to Meng Yao, Nie Huaisang also didn't want to make it seem like a weird obsession, and decided he had to prove himself first. Before confessing to Meng Yao that he had been in love with him for so long, he had to prove to him that he was a capable man, that he cared for him in a deep and special way. He had to prove it with a decisive and concrete gesture; only then would he allow himself to act in a manner other than friendly.
Nie Mingjue visited him frequently, and although he never said it directly, Nie Huaisang knew it was to inquire about how his courting attempts were going. It warmed his heart to know that his older brother was supporting him so much, and it also gave him a bit of self-confidence. Although Nie Mingjue was not a great expert on romance, he had told him about the exact moment he started to realize that Lan Xichen had deep feelings for him, when he gave him a gift with a very emotional and poignant meaning. Nie Huaisang therefore had the idea of using the same technique and had started to think about what gift he could give to Meng Yao. He was beginning to despair, when suddenly the opportunity presented itself.
Meng Yao loved going for a walk in the gardens with Nie Huaisang so much. It was the most wonderful and calming time of the day; he could finally stop thinking about all the problems of the clan and just discuss beauty and art, far from all the worries of material life. When talking about these things, Nie Huaisang seemed to be separated from the real world. He was taking Meng Yao to his own wonderful world and it was a divine respite; furthermore, being able to share the friendly company of someone who considered him an equal made Meng Yao deeply moved. Even though he knew that Nie Mingjue had great esteem and affection for him, he still felt a superiority pressure in his presence, while Nie Huaisang was just... Nie Huaisang. Being with him was, in a way, even better than sitting in the most prestigious of meetings and being listened to by high-ranking members. Social classes did not exist in Nie Huaisang's mind; he lived by his own laws and Meng Yao felt so free thanks to that.
That evening, they had decided to walk along the river to admire the crystal-clear springs that fell from the mountain, and Nie Huaisang was enthusiastically flapping his fan to see fly away the butterflies on the peonies bordering the water.
" … And yes, the most splendid thing I saw last month was this mountain at the full moon; it reminded me of when Da-Ge and I were young, going on an expedition together. I hastened to paint a fan on the subject! But it's not as successful as the one I'm currently holding. Do you see, Meng Yao, how beautifully the light passes through the silver mesh? "
" I see it, " Meng Yao replied with a knowing smile, brushing the precious paper with his fingertips. " Indeed, it is perfectly successful. Huaisang is still wonderfully talented, anyway... "
Nie Huaisang blinked and momentarily shyly hid his eyes behind his fan, making Meng Yao smile again. As they approached a fallen tree just above the water, Nie Huaisang stumbled slightly, and dropped his fan with a little cry of surprise. In a graceful gesture, Meng Yao caught up with the precious fan just before it touched the water, closing it with two fingers and handing it to Nie Huaisang with a modest smile.
" Where did you learn to make a move like this so easily? It took me years of practice to know how to wield a fan so smoothly without using my whole hand... " Nie Huaisang whispered, looking amazed.
Meng Yao blushed slightly at the compliment, wincing as Nie Huaisang's fingers brushed his as he returned the fan. Nie Huaisang was staring at him intently and deeply, as if he was trying to search in his soul. Meng Yao turned his head with a thoughtful look, both to hide his thrill and to think of a way to answer the question. He sits on the tree trunk, letting his legs sway in the wind as his hair flutters in the wind. It was one of those moments where he felt images of the past return to his mind with gentleness and lightness, instead of the violent and humiliating flashes he usually had. These moments rarely happened and always made him feel so trembling with emotion, and even nostalgia.
He didn't know why, but the presence of Nie Huaisang seemed to favor the coming of these serene times of respite with the past. Perhaps it was the awkward, harmless appearance of the young man that put him in trust, as if he was less afraid of being attacked? Maybe being with of an artist who did not suppress his emotions like other men in the cultivation world was opening the way for his sensitivity? Or maybe it was something even... deeper... Either way, Meng Yao was feeling good. Nie Huaisang sits next to him and he begins to speak, tracing circles in the water with the tip of his foot.
" I learned to handle the fan when I was about ten years old, in Yunping City. In the... in the... company where my mother worked, all the female workers had the same two smilar fans that belonged to them and which they used as an object of... seduction. I used to steal my mother's fans at night and sneak out to dance at Yunping parties. I disguised myself as a girl so as not to be recognized, borrowing some cosmetics and scarves from my mother and then... I was so... I... I loved dancing. The other children came to dance with me and I could finally be someone else. These secret outings are among my fondest childhood memories. "
Nie Huaisang, wide-eyed and thoughtful, looked down at his fan, stroking the wood. " And... how did you stop going there? Did your mother realize that you were escaping at night? "
" No, I was pretty good at covering up my misdeeds. I could lie pretty well, even to her, even back then, " he added in his head. " It's... One night, a boy, probably a son of the mens who used my mother's... um, services, recognized the pattern of the fan of the brot- of the company my mother worked in. He yelled at the other kids who I really was and I was caught. They... They tore my mother's fans to pieces. She was punished by the company for the lost, but not too harshly since it has no value. I... I don't mean to say it selfishly, but I was probably more penalized than she was for not being able to go out again, and for losing these items. I haven't danced since that day... "
" I am so sorry to hear that, Meng Yao. They must have been beautiful fans, " Nie Huaisang said softly.
" Yes, they were... It was a very long time ago, I can't remember the exact pattern, but I know they were a very dark red, like dried blood, with gold lines and white flowers. You would have liked them if I still possessed them... But, " he added, jumping off the trunk with a more engaging gaze, shaking the sadness away from his mind," the second Nie's brother has more interesting things to do than hearing about the fans of the Yunping women workers. Didn't you tell me that you wanted to go and see the springs before sunset? "
Nie Huaisang nodded enthusiastically, his eyes still a little upset. A little later in the evening, as they gazed at the springs in the coming darkness of the night, he brought up the subject of his mother in the conversation, prompting him to talk about her if he wanted to, in such a gentle way that Meng Yao almost got tears in his eyes. He had felt anxious, but also eager to share these memories with someone, and had said a few things in a trembling voice. That his mother was called Meng Shi. That her favorite color was yellow, that she preferred day to night, that she liked to paint in the dust with a reed. Nie Huaisang hadn't rushed him any more and just smiled, telling him that she seemed like a wonderful woman.
As the days passed, Meng Yao could feel his heart, which he had kept closed and shrouded in fear for so long, start to open, petal by petal, like a tea flower submerged in water for the first time and drinking the light of day.