Nie Mingjue has little warning before a sharp whip-crack and flickering purple light fills the alley he's using as a shortcut to his brother's rehearsal. He had been hoping to reach the concert hall unbothered, unharmed, and fast enough to plausibly deny that he left his guards behind. However, he'd be lying if he wasn't intrigued by this assailant, even as he draws Baxia up and over his shoulder. The whip snaking for his neck wraps firmly around the saber instead.
Behind him, his assailant growls quietly, and the whip pulls back.
Smiling, Nie Mingjue resists for a moment. Then, he allows himself to be swung around, tilting Baxia downwards so that the whip slides off. It snakes back across the ground as its owner draws it back. The purple lightning running along it flickers and flashes in bursts, casting the alley into alternating sharp relief and dark shadow as the trash bags and dumpsters cast elongated shadows onto the walls.
As his assailant wraps the whip around his hand, seemingly unbothered by the lightning, Nie Mingjue takes in the handsome face lit by the light. Sharp features, narrowed eyes, brows and lips furrowed into the smallest of frowns. It's not a face he's meant to have the chance to see again, much less the ability to identify later- the assailant clearly believes he can kill Nie Mingjue here and now, otherwise he'd have covered his face.
Nie Mingjue would very much like to see this face again. Perhaps across a white-clothed table at a restaurant and lit by candlelight. Or maybe in moonlight while walking along the beach. He isn't picky.
The man shifts his weight, still holding his flashing whip in both hands. Nie Mingjue grounds himself and flexes his hands around Baxia's handle. For a moment, neither move.
Huaisang's going to kill me for this, Nie Mingjue thinks right before he opens his mouth and says, "If you wanted my attention so badly, you could have scheduled an appointment."
The assassin's lips twist and his nose wrinkles in a flash of purple light. By the next, his face is smooth again. "That seems foolish," the man says. "Why would I do that when I can simply meet you here?" He flings his whip out towards Nie Mingjue.
Dodging to the right, Nie Mingjue is forced to turn sideways or run into the wall. The whip's light flashes even brighter and stronger than before, and spots fill his vision. He blinks, shakes his head, grounds himself again.
There's a clatter and a curse off to Nie Mingjue's left. Glaring through the spots, he swings Baxia up. His saber clangs against the assassin's sword, and the sound rings down the alley. A sharp twist-and-pull yanks the sword out of the other's hand. It falls to the ground.
Nie Mingjue steps up into his assassin's space, the spots having mostly cleared from his vision. "You're awfully quiet," he breathes. The other man's lip curls, even as Baxia's flat side presses into his chest and him into the wall. "I wonder if I could make you scream."
The assassin's mouth drops a bit, and Nie Mingjue feels the thrill of unsettling this beautiful, controlled man shoot down his spine. Unfortunately, the assassin recovers quickly and says, "Wouldn't you like to know."
Then, he stomps on Nie Mingjue's foot.
Cursing, Nie Mingjue rears back, giving the assassin plenty of space to slide out from between him and the wall. Before he can find his footing and possibly go back on the attack, the assassin kicks up a small bag of trash and uses his sword like bat, slicing the bag open as he does so. A stinking, slimy collection of trash flies through the air towards Nie Mingjue.
Thank the gods for all the time he spent on the sparring floor. Nie Mingjue barely spares a glance around the alley before he's stomping on a trash can lid to flip it up into his hand. The trash splats against the lid and then falls to the ground instead of hitting his face and seeping into his clothes.
It's a brilliant counter until the assassin literally puts his foot in it.
Nie Mingjue grunts- the man wasn't light- and ducks under the flashing whip before it wrapped around his neck again. Bracing himself against the ground, he drops Baxia for a moment to use both hands to push the lid up and over and sending the assassin careening to the ground behind him.
The assassin's sword lands on the ground once more, while the man himself makes a suspiciously squishy-sounding thud behind Nie Mingjue. Not one to say no to free weaponry when given the opportunity, Nie Mingjue collects the sword along with Baxia. It's so thin comparatively that it rattles in Baxia's sheath.
"As fun as this has been," he quips, backing his way towards the alley entrance, "I do have somewhere to be. Maybe I'll see you around sometime?"
The assassin groans. The whip's light feebly flashes once or twice and illuminates his slow climb to his feet.
"No? How about a name then?"
"Do you ever stop flirting?" the assassin asks breathily. "I'm literally here to kill you."
"And doing a fine job of it really. I haven't had this much fun since before Huaisang came of age and took over." Speaking of Huaisang, there's a distinct sound of tires screeching behind him, so Nie Mingjue stops his retreat.
Unfortunately for him, but fortunately for his assassin, the assassin also clocks the arrival of backup, including the likely extremely pissed off younger brother of his target, and he wisely retreats to live and try another day. "This isn't over," the assassin hisses before he turns his back on Nie Mingjue and all but runs up a wall.
Nie Mingjue can't help himself and calls, "Good! You never did tell me what restaurant you wanted to go to!"
Nie Huaisang's exasperated, "Da-ge, you are not flirting with your would-be assassin," almost completely covers up said assassin's own exasperated groan. Nie Mingjue turns to address his brother in time to see the few fan flicks needed to send three of Nie Huaisang's men after the assassin.
"My apologies, who was the one setting the other up on blind dates and making noises about continuing the family line?" Nie Mingjue asks, cheekily.
Nie Huaisang's fan snaps shut, and his eyes narrow. "Not with an assassin," he jabs his fan into Nie Mingjue's chest. "And not during my concert which you were supposed to be at half an hour ago."
Nie Mingjue waves his brother off as he ambles into the backseat of the car. Nie Huaisang huffily slides in next to him and looks over Nie Mingjue's shoulder when Nie Mingjue pulls out the assassin's sword.
It's a high quality forge and well-balanced in Nie Mingjue's hand. The center grove glints purple in the light, just like the whip flashed with purple lightning. The characters just above the hilt read: Sandu. Nie Huaisang hums, "Appropriate for an assassin."
"I'm going to find him."
Nie Huaisang looks pained at his brother. "I don't suppose it would be too much to hope that you intend to kill him for this…?"
Nie Mingjue responds with a flat look, and Nie Huaisang sighs heavily.
"Why must you always make things complicated for me, Da-ge?"