They stayed an extra night in that abandoned city in Qishan. The Lan boy, Sizhui, spent the entirety of their first evening awake, sick with fear.

Eventually, he'd accepted Xichen's offer of suan zao ren after Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and Lan Jingyi convinced him to. It took some time to take effect. But after that, things had gotten quieter.

Come daylight, though, their old problems returned. Namely, Wei Wuxian's passive aggressive exchanges with Xichen.

He had even gone so far as to pretend he couldn't hear him when Xichen asked him to pass him something at the table. And it was annoying Jiang Cheng to no end and notably Lan Wangji too.

Before Jiang Cheng could finally tell Wei Wuxian off for his impertinence, he heard Wei Wuxian ask Xichen to meet him so that they could 'talk about things'.

Well, if Jiang Cheng didn't get the chance to yell at him before those two sorted out whatever was wrong between them, he was at least going to get to the bottom of it.

So, he'd tailed them to listen in.

Wei Wuxian was talking to Xichen – out in the middle of an abandoned city center in broad daylight – and Jiang Cheng was beside himself with rage over the fact that he couldn't hear what the hell they were saying.

He was crouched behind a large outdoor vase, feeling very much like he used to when he would sneak around Lotus Pier at night to listen to conversations between his parents. Unlike Lotus Pier, though, he didn't know all of the best vantage points for eavesdropping in this place. There was no obvious hiding place that would put him close enough to hear them. So, he was resigned to watching.

And unlike Lotus Pier, he was watching alone, but that was a different matter altogether.

Wei Wuxian looked angrier than Jiang Cheng had seen him in a long time. His movements were stiff and controlled, unlike his typical carefree and fluid mannerisms. And he had drawn himself up to be as tall as possible (no longer an impressive height) with his shoulders rolled back and hands clenched into tight fists.

He jabbed a finger at Xichen's chest and Jiang Cheng had half a mind to reveal himself then and scare him off.

However, when Xichen bowed his head and said something that looked very much like 'I'm sorry', Jiang Cheng stopped himself from intervening. Was Wei Wuxian right to be angry about something? Had Xichen done something?

Wei Wuxian seemed surprised at first but responded with a few more bitter words before he turned on his heel and walked away… away from Xichen.

Unfortunately, he was heading straight for Jiang Cheng's hiding spot.

Not wanting to be made fun of for eavesdropping like a child, Jiang Cheng scanned the area for an easy escape.

It didn't take long for him to notice the hole knocked into the wall of the building next to him. But it was only large enough for him to crawl through.

"Unbelievable," he muttered.

On his hands and knees, he scrambled into the abandoned building that appeared to be an old tailor's shop. And amid the dusty hanging cloth, he stood and brushed the dust from his own clothes.

"What's come over me?" he asked the empty shop. "Ridiculous behavior."

He heard Wei Wuxian stomp by outside, and another wave of frustration washed over him.

Even if it was ridiculous that he had crawled around in the dirt to eavesdrop, it was even more ridiculous that he hadn't heard a damned thing that they'd said. He'd done all that for nothing.

He waited a good while after Wei Wuxian had gone, straining his ears to hear when Xichen had left as well.

After half an incense time had passed, he was sure that Xichen must have gone a different way.

He stepped out of the shop and looked around. No one was there. Which meant he needed to return to the inn quickly to avoid raising questions.

He turned to head that way but stopped in his tracks.

Then again, what questions would they raise? It wasn't as if he hadn't gone off on his own before.

Memories of times before the Sunshot Campaign were coming to the forefront of his mind – a common occurrence now that they were deep into the miasma. It would be best to clear his head before returning.

So, he went left instead of right and wiped the sweat that had accumulated on his brow despite the chill in the morning air.

No birds sang in the trees. There was only silence where there should have been the hum of insects or the croaking of frogs. Though many of the towns they had passed through had been in a similar state, Jiang Cheng found it difficult to acclimate to the unnatural ambience.

He continued to mill around as if this strange place, with its heavy air and eerie atmosphere, would be able to ease the building pain in his head and heart. It took him far longer than it should have to realize that he wasn't getting better.

His headache built to the point that he could hardly keep his eyes open in the daylight. Jiang Cheng felt around for a place to sit and ended up lowering himself haphazardly onto the trunk of a felled tree.

He dug his knuckles into his temples, but it didn't help. His ears were ringing.

"Kill me, if you're going to," he groaned at the miasma. "Stop dragging this out."

"I know I should have announced myself, but I certainly don't intend to kill you."

His aching heart nearly stopped from fright.

Jiang Cheng leapt up from the tree stump and drew his sword in one motion – or that's what he tried to do.

Jumping up sent a sharp jolt of pain through his skull. He ended up stumbling and nearly dropping his sword, making his shout of 'stay back' much less frightening than he'd intended it to be.

"Forgive me, Sect Leader Jiang," said the same voice as before, which he now recognized to be Xichen's. "Are you all right?"

Jiang Cheng sheathed Sandu with a huff. Through his blurry vision, he was able to make out the striking white of Xichen's robes. He stood a couple of meters from him.

"I wish I could say that I was," he said. "It's the fucking air. It hurts to breathe."

Xichen chuckled. "I thought I could clear my head out here," he said, "but it's like you said. There's a weight here. Does your clarity bell help?"

Jiang Cheng frowned. His hand drifted to the little bell at his hip and began tracing the etchings in the metal.

"I don't know," Jiang Cheng said. "I haven't tried taking it off."

"Don't," Xichen said quickly when Jiang Cheng started to pull at the tassel that bound it to his belt. "I don't think you need to test it."

"Why not?"

"From the way you reacted to me a moment ago, I think you haven't been hearing the things the rest of us have been."

Jiang Cheng furrowed his brow and squinted at him, trying to see his face through the blinding sunlight.

"Hearing things?" he asked. "What things?"

"Voices," Xichen replied. "Mostly those of people I know to be long dead."

A chill crept up Jiang Cheng's arms.

"You've all been hearing voices of the dead and no one thought to tell me? Not even Jin Ling?"

"I don't think Jin Ling has been hearing them," Xichen said.

"Oh right. He has a bell too."

"And so does my brother," Xichen added. "It was given to him by Wei Wuxian."

Jiang Cheng scowled. "Of course it was," he grumbled. "But wait… if he gave him that then…?"

"I don't think Wei Wuxian has a bell."

"And Lan Wangji didn't think he should give it back to him?!"

Xichen smiled – a kind, almost doting smile. Jiang Cheng was pleased to have his vision return to him in time to see it.

"I don't think my brother is yet aware of what the rest of us are hearing," Xichen said. "I don't believe any of us have shared it with anyone else… until now."

"Why are you all keeping it secret?"

Xichen shrugged. "I suppose I can't speak for the others," he said, "but I was too busy trying to figure out whether it was the miasma or if I was losing my mind."

"How long have you been hearing them?"

"Just during this last day's travel," he said matter-of-factly. "I watched the others carefully to try to discern whether or not I was the only one experiencing it."

That was impressive. All he'd had to do was look around at everyone else to figure it out? Jiang Cheng might have kept to himself about hearing voices too, but he was confident that he wouldn't have been able to tell that the others were hearing them. He already hadn't noticed.

"You look better," Xichen said with another smile.

"I feel better," Jiang Cheng replied. "A little."

"Good. Should we head back to the inn? I have something I'd like to discuss."

Jiang Cheng folded his arms. "Is it a private matter?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Then why wouldn't we discuss it here?"

"Because," Xichen said, glancing around briefly before continuing in a low voice, "I'm not sure if Xue Yang might be nearby, listening. I've been feeling like we're being watched for a long time now."

"I'm sure hearing voices isn't helping with that."

Xichen laughed weakly. "It's not," he said.

Xichen hadn't looked well even since the beginning of their journey. With each passing day, however, he was looking worse and worse.

It made Jiang Cheng wonder how terrible he himself looked.

"I can lend you my bell," said Jiang Cheng.

"I could never accept that," Xichen said seriously. "Something tells me that your ghosts would be worse than mine."

Jiang Cheng shrugged. "The offer stands if you change your mind."

"Thank you, Sect Leader."

"Jiang Cheng is fine."

Xichen smiled at him again, this time in a more teasing manner. "Is that your way of telling me that we're friends now?"

Jiang Cheng returned his smile, feeling much better than he had just moments ago. "I should think so," he said. "No point in dragging out the inevitable."

"But I haven't given you anything."

"I… don't think you have to," said Jiang Cheng slowly. "I'm also not convinced that you haven't."

Xichen didn't respond. He simply watched him in wonder.

Try as he might to hold still, Jiang Cheng couldn't keep himself from shifting on his feet.

"Should we go back to the inn, then?" he asked, in an effort to break the odd tension between them.

Xichen cleared his throat and brushed off the ends of his sleeves even though they appeared to be perfectly clean.

"Yes, let's go," he said. "Lead the way, Jiang Cheng."

They walked together through the forest and back to the empty town without exchanging a word. Jiang Cheng almost wished for the pain of the miasma to return as a distraction from the awkward silence between them.

Dust rose around their feet as they walked down the streets. A little porcelain cat stood outside a once splendid home. Jiang Cheng considered pointing it out to Xichen, but after doing a brief mental calculation, he decided against it.

Pointing it out would break the silence, sure, but the quiet that would follow would only be worse. An awkward attempt at conversation was worse than no conversation at all.

Something caught Jiang Cheng's eye as they neared the inn. There was a large space between the inn and the surrounding buildings. And in that space, Jiang Cheng was able to see a sprawling patch of dirt that had been tilled semi-recently.

"Hey," Jiang Cheng murmured, nudging Xichen lightly with his elbow. "Does that seem… weird to you?"

"It doesn't look like a garden," Xichen said. "Maybe we should go have a look."

They wandered over to it. Jiang Cheng scanned around for any traps that could have been laid around the perimeter. When he was satisfied that nothing was there, he drew Sandu and crouched to stir the dirt around.

"Be careful," Xichen whispered.

Sandu clunked against something hard. Jiang Cheng looked back in time to see Xichen frown and kneel down next to him.

Together, they started digging. It didn't take long to uncover a pale hand and foot, each belonging to a separate corpse.

"Strange," Xichen muttered.

"Here," Jiang Cheng said, "help me get this one out."

They grabbed the exposed leg of one corpse and pulled hard to free it from the earth. Jiang Cheng had to admit Xichen's strength was impressive. He was sure he wouldn't have been able to exhume the body very easily on his own.

They knelt back down and started to examine it. The body was that of a young man. From his clothing and the thick callouses on his hands, he had probably been a farmer who'd come into town for supplies.

Jiang Cheng turned the body over and was surprised to note no bruising or evidence of blood pooling on the man's back. He pointed this out to Xichen who thought for a moment before commenting.

"Do you think he was killed by exsanguination?"

"Lingchi is a favorite of Xue Yang, I hear, but I don't see how," Jiang Cheng said. "His throat isn't slit. I don't see any other major wounds on his body."

"There's this."

Xichen shifted the man's shoulder a little to reveal a deep stab wound.

"That wouldn't have bled enough to drain him completely like this," Jiang Cheng said. "It shouldn't have bled enough to kill him at all."

"Let's check the other one."

As they pulled out the body of a young girl, another hand and face came into view.

"How many people are in here?!" Jiang Cheng exclaimed.

"She's the same as the first," Xichen said. "But her only wound is here."

He pointed at a stab wound in her belly.

"Well that one could have killed her," Jiang Cheng said. "But I don't think she would have been drained by that either."

"I wonder…" Xichen said quietly.

He screwed up his face in concentration, so Jiang Cheng stayed quiet and waited for him to share his suspicions.

"Do you think those other towns we've passed through," he said at last, "do you think they might have had mass graves like this that we didn't notice?"

"Sure," Jiang Cheng said. "We haven't exactly been looking around much."

"If this is Xue Yang's doing, and we're to assume all cities and towns around Nightless City are abandoned like this, we may be greatly underestimating our opponent."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," Xichen said, looking very worried, "if all those towns were massacred and not evacuated or abandoned, then Xue Yang will have amassed an incredible amount of yang energy by draining their blood like this. And if he tricked them into also giving up their spiritual energy, he would only be that much more powerful."

Jiang Cheng gaped at the grave before them. They were talking power that he almost couldn't even imagine.

"We may be walking to our deaths," Xichen breathed.

"What choice do we have?" Jiang Cheng asked. "Either we go on our terms or Xue Yang tracks us down and kills us his own way."

"Nightless City will absolutely be a trap. I'm not sure we can consider that going 'on our terms'."

"Well I'd rather not sit around and wait for death," Jiang Cheng said, standing.

"I see," Xichen said. "Either way, we should go tell the others."

"Sure."

They replaced the bodies where they'd found them and covered them up as best as they could. Xichen muttered quiet respects under his breath.

Then, they continued down the street until they reached the inn.

Upon opening the door, they were greeted by the sight of all of their other companions seated around several tables in the foyer. But none of them reacted to the appearance of Xichen or Jiang Cheng except to look briefly in their direction before resting their head in their hands again.

Yu Qingqi gave a little half-hearted wave before wrapping her arms around Luo Qingyang, who looked the very picture of illness.

Huaisang, who sat across from them, gave almost no indication that he'd noticed the new arrivals. He was slumped over the table, his fingers wound tightly in his sleek black hair.

Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi were a little more alert, but they were preoccupied with Lan Sizhui, who had his arms folded on the table and his face buried in them.

It was surprising that Wei Wuxian wasn't nearby, irritating the three of them with his misguided attempts to cheer them up. He often liked to stick his nose into their affairs – or at least Jin Ling's.

But Wei Wuxian was seated a few tables away, head resting on his arms in much the same way that Lan Sizhui was resting. Unlike Lan Sizhui, however, he actually looked up at them when they came in.

Even from this distance, Jiang Cheng could see the sheen of sweat on his face and the ghostly pallor of his skin. If he grew any paler, it would be hard to tell him and Wen Ning apart.

"Maybe we don't talk to them yet," Jiang Cheng murmured, starting to feel a little sicker again himself. "It's not a pressing issue right now."

"I was about to say the same," Xichen replied.

So, they moved through the dining space without speaking to any of their companions. The only ones who paid them any attention were Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.

"Did you still have something to discuss with me?" Jiang Cheng said quietly once he was sure those two wouldn't overhear him.

"Only if you're well enough to talk with me," Xichen said. "You look ill again. More than you did when we found the graveyard."

"I'm fine."

"All right," Xichen replied, looking very much like he didn't believe him. "Please give me a moment."

He paused beside the last table before the hallway. Lan Jingyi and Jin Ling glanced up at them, but Lan Sizhui didn't respond. He didn't seem to know they were there.

"Are you well, Sizhui?" Xichen asked in that gentlest tone of his as he knelt beside his junior. Even though he wasn't speaking to Jiang Cheng, it was still soothing to listen to him. "I'm sure I have an elixir you could take."

Lan Sizhui lifted his head from his arms and gave a smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Hanguang-jun has already offered," he said. "I told him that I need time to adjust. We should conserve our medicine."

They were indeed running a little low on supplies after they'd needed to treat both Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling the night that Xue Yang had visited. Technically, they could link somewhere and bring more supplies back, but no one was very eager to do that – go from a neutral place and dive straight back into the miasma. They weren't entirely certain that a shock like that wouldn't cause more lasting damage.

"Did you consider that maybe an elixir would help you adjust?" Lan Jingyi asked pointedly.

Lan Sizhui patted Lan Jingyi's arm. "We might need those supplies after or during our fight with Xue Yang," he said. "I don't want to use something that might be needed by someone else."

Jin Ling huffed a sigh. "You could be bleeding to death and refuse medicine because someone else might need it later," he said mockingly. "You need it now. Forget about the future."

"Yes, and this will only get worse as we get closer to Nightless City," Lan Sizhui said. "If I use it every time I'm like this, we're going to run out. And besides, I've always done fine after a little while. I just need time to adjust."

Both Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi rolled their eyes, but they didn't argue.

Xichen chuckled softly. "You are very strong," he said. "I'm sure Wangji is proud of you, but he would want you to admit your limits."

"Thank you, Zewu-jun," Lan Sizhui replied, a very subtle note of frustration in his voice. "I will let you know when I am at my limit."

"No he won't," Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi mumbled in unison.

Lan Sizhui scowled at both of them.

"Don't be angry," Xichen chided. "Your friends want what's best for you."

It did make Jiang Cheng wonder what exactly this seventeen-year-old boy had seen in his short life that left him so wounded that he looked nearly as bad as Wei Wuxian. Because Jiang Cheng had to agree, he did look very unwell.

Jin Ling fidgeted in his seat, his eyes locked on Jiang Cheng. Did he know something that Jiang Cheng did not? Lan Sizhui was his friend after all. Maybe he knew what ghosts whispered into this boy's ear.

Jiang Cheng wouldn't have given it a second thought if Jin Ling hadn't looked at him like that, like he expected him to react to something. What did he think he would do? Ridicule Xichen's junior for being sick? He didn't understand.

"I know they do," said Lan Sizhui, interrupting Jiang Cheng's thoughts. "But I don't think I need an elixir yet."

"Okay," Xichen said. He stood and smoothed his robes. "Let me or Wangji know if you change your mind."

"I will. Thank you, Zewu-jun."

Xichen turned around and motioned for Jiang Cheng to follow him. "Now we can talk," he said.

"Great."

Jiang Cheng followed him through a wooden door that led into a long corridor. The floorboards groaned quietly under their feet. Paintings of tigers and royal hunting parties watched them as they walked. This establishment was much nicer than the one in which they'd stayed before.

He followed Xichen into what looked like an office space. There was a desk in the corner and many shelves along the walls, stacked with parcels.

He didn't take in many more of the details before turning to address Xichen.

"What is it that-?"

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry," Xichen interrupted after he'd closed the door behind them.

"What?"

Jiang Cheng was perplexed. There was nothing that he could think of that Xichen would need to be sorry for.

"Wei Wuxian has taken issue with me ever since that afternoon when you and I had that discussion about him," Xichen said, wringing his hands. "I imagine that you remember that conversation."

"I do."

How could he have forgotten? Especially when it had been later that night that he'd been so sick.

"He told me a little while ago, shortly before I stumbled upon you, actually," Xichen said, "that you'd seemed upset by what we'd talked about."

Upset. There it was again. That fucking word. He really did come across as a delicate person, didn't he?

"Granted," Xichen went on, unaware of Jiang Cheng's growing annoyance, "Wei Wuxian had no idea what we were talking about. He had some notions of his own that I helped to disillusion him from. Regardless, I'm sure he was right about one thing. I hurt you, and for that I am sorry."

"I'm to believe that Wei Wuxian actually came to yell at you for upsetting me?" Jiang Cheng said in disbelief. He didn't know what he'd expected Xichen had wanted to discuss in private, but it certainly wasn't this. "And why can't you stop bringing this up? I thought we'd settled at an impasse. I'm not discussing Wei Wuxian again."

Xichen shook his head. "I wasn't here to reopen that topic," he assured him. "I'm only telling you what Wei Wuxian told me."

"Hm."

"Actually," Xichen went on with a smile, "I think his exact words were more along the lines of 'what's going on between me and Jiang Cheng is our business. But if you're messing with his head or making him feel like he's not good enough, that's my business.'"

Jiang Cheng clenched his fists. But he wasn't angry. He didn't know how he felt.

"No it's not," he said defiantly. "That would have nothing to do with him… and you're not doing that. What does he know about anything?"

Xichen laughed and shrugged. "That's just what he said to me," he replied. "I hope you can forgive me for reopening old wounds?"

"There's nothing to forgive," Jiang Cheng said. "I'm not wounded."

"Ah. Well, good."

Xichen drifted away from him to look out the window. His gaze was unfocused and sort of closed off.

Still staring at nothing, he spoke in a voice that was as distant as his eyes.

"I hope you know that I really appreciate what you did for my junior, Lan Jingyi," Xichen said. "You protected him in our last fight before scouting ahead. That boy faces the world head-on, but he still has a lot to learn. It's nice to know that you're looking out for him too. Just like you looked after Huaisang before."

Each thing he credited him with drove a blade of guilt into his ribcage.

"I already told you," Jiang Cheng said to a stack of papers on the desk, "I stayed with Huaisang for selfish reasons. You shouldn't thank me."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Xichen turn toward him. Jiang Cheng kept his focus on the yellowed paper.

"We continue to go around and around on this, but I still don't think that's true," Xichen said. "Not entirely anyway."

Jiang Cheng's face contorted, but with what emotion, he didn't know. Whatever it was, it burned in his belly and caused his joints to ache beneath rigid muscles.

"Stop trying to wish it away," Jiang Cheng hissed. "You may wish to think better of your friend, but you deserve better than to be deceived. So, don't deceive yourself. Not again."

Xichen was quiet for a long time. The sounds of the others moving about the inn were easily heard from the other side of the closed door.

Each passing moment grated on Jiang Cheng's nerves. He couldn't stand Xichen's silence much longer.

Thankfully, he didn't have to.

"I'm not wishing away the nature of who you are," he said softly. "I think that, at a fundamental level, you're a good person. I think your instinct is good. And I think that's why you have that wound on your arm." He gestured at Jiang Cheng's injured shoulder. "Your protection of Jingyi was not calculated, like you claim your decision to stay with Huaisang was. You acted too quickly and, if I may be blunt, a bit rashly too. That wound might have been a lot worse."

Jiang Cheng laughed harshly. "Here you go again," he said, throwing his hands up in the air and finally turning to face him. "You keep telling me who I am, as if you would know me better than I would know myself. Do you have any idea how pretentious you sound?"

"Do you have any idea how self-loathing you sound?" Xichen countered.

Jiang Cheng glared at him. Xichen sighed.

For some reason, that simple exhale of his took the fight out of Jiang Cheng rather than egging him on.

"I'm not trying to be self-loathing," Jiang Cheng grumbled. "I'm trying to tell you the truth."

"I know," Xichen said. "And you have no idea how much I appreciate that. But, I still think that you're not giving yourself enough credit."

"Tch."

"I've seen concern on your face in that moment before any calculations have entered your mind," Xichen said. "Although I agree that your ultimate decisions are often made with only the safety of yourself and your family in mind, I think it still matters that your instinct is to help."

"Why?"

"Because," Xichen said, moving a little bit closer to him, "it means that everything else has been taught to you. Which also means that you can unlearn it if you so choose. It is harder to train yourself out of an instinct."

Jiang Cheng frowned at him. This man was hellbent on twisting every aspect of his personality into something that could be seen as admirable. Jiang Cheng wondered how much of this he'd done to convince himself that Jin Guangyao was a good man too.

"You're hopeless," Jiang Cheng said, exasperated. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to prepare for the worst in people?"

He'd said it as a joke, mostly an inside joke that only Jiang Cheng himself would understand, but Xichen seemed to take the question seriously.

He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, thinking.

"I wasn't allowed to visit my mother very often," he said slowly, as if trying hard to remember. "I don't think she had much time to give Wangji or me lessons on the ways of the world."

It shouldn't have come as a surprise to him. After all, he'd never heard much about Xichen's mother except that she was in poor health and not well enough to leave her residence in the Cloud Recesses. But still, Jiang Cheng was shocked to hear that he hadn't been allowed to see her.

"Why couldn't you see her?"

Jiang Cheng knew he was going to regret asking. He knew Xichen's answer was going to make him feel bad for implying his mother hadn't taught him anything. But he asked anyway because he wanted to know.

He averted his eyes in preparation of his shame. In so doing, Jiang Cheng noticed that the porcelain cat he'd seen earlier could also be seen from the window of this room.

"My mother was a prisoner," Xichen said.

"What?"

"In a manner of speaking," he explained. "My father was in love with her. My mother didn't feel the same. But when she killed my father's teacher, he married her to save her life, and out of gratitude or a desire to spare her own life, my mother stayed."

An unseen vice gripped Jiang Cheng's throat. The story sounded familiar, even though it wasn't.

"I was allowed to see her once a month until eventually she died," Xichen went on. "I loved those meetings, but…" Xichen shook his head, a wan smile on his lips. "Well, she loved those meetings too."

There was a touch of darkness in his voice. Jiang Cheng narrowed his eyes. "But?" he prompted him.

Xichen looked up and chuckled. "You really want to hear about my family affairs?"

Jiang Cheng shrugged. "Better than talking about my own," he said. "Isn't this what friends are for anyway?"

It was Xichen's turn to narrow his eyes. "You don't want to go back out there do you? That's why you want me to keep talking."

"No, I don't want to go out there. Everyone's in a strange mood. I don't want to… be around it."

"That's a shame. Last time you were, you were quite kind to Wei Wuxian. It was nice to see that side of you again."

Jiang Cheng raised his eyebrows, annoyed that Xichen somehow managed to keep circling back around to that topic.

"No," Jiang Cheng said testily, "the last time I was in a strange mood, I kept you up late worrying because I was making a fool of myself."

Xichen fixed him with a serious look. "You weren't making a fool of yourself," he said, seeming almost hurt that Jiang Cheng had described it as such. "It was hard to see you like that, but I never once thought poorly of you for it."

"Hm."

"Won't you believe me?"

Jiang Cheng sighed. "All right," he said. "Can we not talk about this? If you don't want to talk about your family, that's fine. But… anything else."

The reminder of that night was making him recall the memories that had sent him into a downward spiral in the first place. His tongue was dry in his mouth and goosebumps ran up his arms.

He was an idiot to have brought it up. It was his own fault he felt this way now.

"My family, then," Xichen said after he'd studied Jiang Cheng for a time.

"Okay."

He almost couldn't hear Xichen. It was taking all of his concentration to push aside the horrible thoughts vying for his attention.

He couldn't wait to be free of the miasma.

"What did you want to know?" Xichen asked.

"You're going to answer questions about your private family affairs? I thought the Lans weren't ones for gossip."

"I'm not sharing secrets from some other family. It's mine to share."

"And you're just going to tell me whatever I want to know?"

Xichen watched him intently. Jiang Cheng was very aware of how sweaty he'd become in such a short span of time.

"You don't feel well, do you?" Xichen asked.

"No, and it doesn't help when you keep talking about things that I don't want to talk about."

"So let's talk about whatever you want to talk about. I'll answer your questions."

It sounded like a trap somehow, but nothing about Xichen's open body language supported that worry.

So, Jiang Cheng wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and said, "You were going to mention something else about your visits to your mother, but you stopped yourself. What was it?"

"Ah yes," Xichen said with a mirthless smile. "I enjoyed them, but I wasn't so sure that she liked them until Wangji was born."

"What do you mean?"

Xichen shrugged. "As her first born, I was a reminder to her that she was trapped," he said. "Wangji was her son, but I was her cage."

There was something familiar to that too. Familiar but different.

Jiang Cheng had no idea what to say, so he simply said, "I'm sorry."

"Part of me wanted to hate her. But she was never cruel to me. She acted like she loved me. She played the part so well that sometimes I believed it. But there was something missing in the way she looked at me, something that was always there when she looked at Wangji. She regarded me almost the same way she regarded my father."

"You could have been wrong," Jiang Cheng offered. "Maybe you saw what you were afraid of."

"Maybe," Xichen conceded. "It's hard to know. Especially when you already know your parents stay together out of a sense of duty or necessity. What's to say that their care for you doesn't come from the same place?"

Jiang Cheng said nothing. There was nothing to say.

"Wangji tried to convince me it wasn't true, but I can't seem to believe him no matter how hard I try," Xichen went on. "It doesn't make sense to him. Maybe it doesn't make sense at all."

"No," Jiang Cheng said quietly, "it makes sense."

Xichen furrowed his brow and fixed him with a look that made him feel like he was trying to read his mind.

"What doesn't make sense, though," Jiang Cheng continued in an effort to make him stop staring, "is why you would doubt your own parents but seemingly not anyone else, even Jin Guangyao, who was definitely pretending."

Surprisingly, rather than getting annoyed that he'd yet again chosen to belittle Jin Guangyao, Xichen merely shrugged.

"I suppose he was better at pretending than my mother was," he said. "I met him while on the run from the Wen Clan. He didn't know who I was and had no apparent reason to help me. And he…"

Xichen trailed off. Only for a moment.

"He looked at me differently," Xichen said, his gaze a little unfocused again. "There was no dismissal of my presence. He looked at me like I was the only one who mattered, like I was a light for him in the darkness. I was neither a burden nor a disappointment."

Jiang Cheng didn't like the wistful way that Xichen was talking.

Xichen smiled sadly and finally focused on Jiang Cheng again.

"I lied to you before," Xichen said.

"Oh?"

About his mother? About his father? Jiang Cheng wasn't sure, but he worried it was neither of those things. He worried he knew exactly what it was that he'd lied about. And he wasn't sure that he wanted to hear the truth.

"I lied to you before, but that isn't fair to you," Xichen said, wringing his hands together. "I forced you to take me along with you that night when you wanted no one around you. I placed myself into a private part of your life, after I refused to let you into mine. That isn't fair."

"You just told me about-"

"The story of my mother is one that I've shared with Wei Wuxian," Xichen said. "It's private but not secret. And I imagine that I was with you in those woods for something that you don't allow anyone to see. It wasn't fair of me to avoid you and then turn around and make it so that you couldn't avoid me."

It wasn't entirely true that no one had seen Jiang Cheng in the state he'd been in that night, but he didn't feel like arguing that point.

"Xichen, I don't need-"

"No. You asked me this question directly and I blatantly lied to you. If there's one thing that I've grown to despise more than anything, it's lying."

Jiang Cheng supposed that made sense. But goodness did Xichen seem nervous!

The muscles of his neck and jaw were taut. A curtain of sleek hair cascaded from his shoulder as he bowed his head to stare at the ground, presumably to gather his courage.

Jiang Cheng wanted to tell him again that there was no need to say anything, that he didn't need payment for Xichen's imposition. But both his dread and curiosity kept him quiet.

"I was…" Xichen began in a weak voice. "Well, it's true that I did love Meng Yao. But I lied when I said that… that I hadn't been in love with him."

He'd spoken the last words very quietly, hardly even a whisper, but Jiang Cheng had heard him. Xichen wouldn't look at him.

A sick feeling settled deep in his stomach, but Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and flicked his wrist dismissively.

"I already knew that," he scoffed, trying to make it seem as though Xichen's confession hadn't made him both disgusted and furious. "What are you so worried about?"

Xichen's graceful fingers traced the edges of Liebing, which hung at his waist.

"I care about your opinion of me," Xichen said quietly. "Despite my original misgivings about you-"

"Your dislike of me," Jiang Cheng corrected.

He hadn't been completely in the dark about that. Jiang Cheng had noticed how Xichen would tense in his presence and greet him with strained smiles. It hadn't been anything like the glares he'd received from Lan Wangji, but Xichen probably wouldn't ever glare at someone in greeting. Stiff politeness and forced pleasantries from Xichen equated to something akin to Lan Wangji's outward iciness.

"If you're trying to be more honest perhaps you could try to go more than one sentence before lying again," Jiang Cheng said.

Xichen bowed his head. "You're right. I didn't like you very much. But, I've changed my mind about that."

"So?"

"So I wondered how you would feel about being around me now that I have confirmed what you suspected."

Jiang Cheng's gut twisted uncomfortably. He suddenly remembered all the snide remarks he'd made in the past about cut sleeves. And he saw all those remarks reflected in the anxious expression of the man across from him – the first friend he'd had in years.

"What made you think I'd care about that?" Jiang Cheng blurted out before he could stop himself.

He knew what made Xichen think that! He'd thought of it himself moments before speaking. Why was he pretending that he'd never said any of those things before?

Accountability was not his strong suit. That was why.

Xichen raised his eyebrows. It was Jiang Cheng's turn to avoid eye contact.

"You don't seem to approve of Wei Wuxian all that much," Xichen said.

"I didn't approve of him before he and your brother were married."

"Right," Xichen said in a tone that made it clear that he wasn't fooled. "So it doesn't bother you? You aren't uncomfortable around me?"

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth to answer when he suddenly realized he didn't know the answer.

The questions Xichen had asked were simple ones. Why was he confused?

"No, I'm not," Jiang Cheng said, unsure whether or not it was the truth.

He had a strange tightness in his chest, but couldn't that still be anger toward Jin Guangyao for all the things he'd done? It didn't have to mean that he didn't want to be around Xichen.

And maybe his quickened heartbeat was worry that Xichen would decide Jiang Cheng's past behavior toward cut sleeves made him a poor candidate for friendship. It wouldn't be strange to worry about losing that.

So why was he so uncertain?

Regardless, he needed to reassure Xichen that he really didn't care about any of it. Because even if he did, he would make it so that it didn't trouble him anymore, whatever it took to train it out of himself. Surely it wasn't an instinct.

"It doesn't bother me," Jiang Cheng said.

Xichen regarded him skeptically. "You seem bothered. It's all right if you are. I only want you to be honest with me."

But he couldn't be honest if he didn't know! So, he would be as honest as he could.

"I think it… I think it bothers me that you liked him," said Jiang Cheng. "You've wasted so much of your time mourning someone that never would have cared about you the same way. He tried to kill you, in case you've forgotten."

Xichen winced at his last statement, but Jiang Cheng didn't take it back. It was the truth. And it was time that Xichen faced it and moved on.

He didn't want him to hurt anymore. He didn't deserve to hurt anymore.

"There's no reason to waste your time on a traitor," Jiang Cheng went on. "You're good-looking. You could have anyone you wanted, man or woman. I'm sure you can find someone who genuinely cares about you."

Xichen looked up at him, surprised.

"And I'm sure Lan Qiren would give you his blessing," Jiang Cheng continued. "He's already come to terms with Lan Wangji's marriage to Wei Wuxian."

Xichen smiled sweetly. The anguish around his eyes finally softened into gratitude.

He took a half-step forward and Jiang Cheng cursed himself for his doubled heart rate.

Surely he wasn't this uncomfortable around Lan Wangji or Wei Wuxian! This was a friend. What was wrong with him?

He refused to back up, not wanting the hurt to return to Xichen's face.

"You are very kind to say that," Xichen said. "You're a handsome man too. Why haven't you found anyone?"

Jiang Cheng laughed wryly. "I tried to court a few women. It never worked out. After the disaster with the last one, I think no one else is willing to give me a chance anymore."

Xichen let out a breathy laugh. Jiang Cheng's stomach twisted. His face grew hot. He knew he shouldn't have told him that. How embarrassing!

Xichen stepped nearer yet and Jiang Cheng still refused to back up. He really was very close now.

"I wouldn't say no one," Xichen murmured.

He was studying Jiang Cheng very carefully with those fathomless dark eyes. Jiang Cheng could see almost every detail of his face, from the fine texture of his hair to the tiny part between his lips.

He felt very warm. The proximity between them was becoming uncomfortable, but was it out of fear or prejudice or something else? Why wouldn't the heart hammering away in his chest tell him why it was so desperate to escape?

When Xichen spoke again, he was quiet – timid, even.

"May I kiss you?"

Jiang Cheng's breath caught in the back of his throat and the heat of his skin grew to an unbearable level.

He stumbled backward. Xichen immediately took a step back as well.

"I-I'm not…" Jiang Cheng stammered, his voice humiliatingly weak. "I'm not a cut sleeve."

Xichen's eyes widened. He backed farther away from Jiang Cheng.

"I am so sorry," Xichen said, pressing his palm to his forehead in mortification. "I entirely misinterpre- I swear to you it won't happen again."

He continued to speak as he backed away toward the exit.

"I'm so sorry. I would never touch you without your permission. I – please excuse me."

Xichen turned on his heel and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind himself.

Jiang Cheng was left standing there alone.

His hands trembled as he brought them up to cover his face. He took a few steps backward to press against the wall he knew to be there and then slid down to sit on the floor.

Xichen's pleasant laughter replayed in his head… as well as the faint tickle of his breath on his face when he'd asked if he could…

Jiang Cheng sat there for a long time, face buried in his hands. He couldn't accept it. He tried hard not to even entertain the thought, but it kept coming back anyway like the mangy stray that brought disease to the village.

His mother's voice sounded loudly in his ears.

People like Wei Wuxian, people born from nothing, can do whatever they want with their lives. But I expect more from you and your sister. Your father expects more too.

His stomach roiled, sick with shame.

There will be no heir to the Jiang Clan.

"Fuck," Jiang Cheng whispered into his shaking fingers. "I can't be a cut sleeve."