Chapter Text
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The last thing Nie Mingjue remembered was dying.
He remembers the pulse of rage, the frustration, and the following horror as he felt himself wrenched from control. He remembers that the last thing he saw before dying was Huaisang's horrified face.
Huaisang.
Huaisang!
Waking wtih a sharp gasp, Nie Mingjue's hand flew to his bare chest as he heaved. His heart pounded with the heavy thuds of a battle song while blood rushed through his ears, drowning out everything else. Power pumped throughout his body, qi pulsing throughout his spiritual veins.
Yet the pain from qi deviation was….less?
Nie Mingjue blinked as he was able to breathe through the rush, his body felt…not lighter, but better. Instinct guided his hand as the surge of energy flowed and ebbed, it wasn't necessarily easier per say, but there were quiet cues within his body that he could take note of. A quite murmuring in the back of his mind that felt warm, familiar, guiding him back to stability.
Opening his eyes finally, Nie Mingjue breathed. Staring up at familiar ceiling above while the sound of song birds and breathes filled the room. A comforting weight on his side gave off a warmth that made the Sect Leader reluctant to rise for the day.
Wait.
Resisting the instinctive urge to rise in a sudden rush of panic, Nie Mingjue tilted his head to observe the would-be bed warmer less he accidentally shove some courtesan off from the bed. With his arm wrapped protectively around the stranger's waist, he doubted he was an unwilling recipient of such a bedfellow.
He blinked.
A worn face greeted him, not classically handsome but a face of elegance refined by time with the barest touch of crows feet accenting his eyes. The barest touch of silver spilling from the man's head added to the worldly man's oddly alluring appearance.
The man's eyelids fluttered before opening, deep black greeting him along with a voice roughened by morning accompanying it.
"Mmm what is it A-Zheng?" the man murmured, blinking awake at him.
As suddenly as a winter storm, the man's warm expression vanished before slamming Nie Mingjue's back into the bed. Nie Mingjue heaved, rising up to retaliate before finding himself pinned agaisnt the wooden frame, a sword at his throat while the man on top of him snarled.
"You must be thick of face to have done such a thing." Nie Mingjue grunted as he found himself unable to retaliate under the man's surprising strength while the stranger's sword hummed in high-pitch ire. Nie Mingjue could sense his own Baxia near by, oddly reluctant to respond to his call and strike the man on top of its master. "Speak, before I deem your words frivolous. Who the hell are you and what have you done with my husband?"
Husband? Nie Mingjue grunted, a scowl on his face as he attempted to push back against the absurd strength with his own. "I have no idea what the hell you're talking about, get off of me—!"
"You certainly share his voice, as well as his temper, outdated though it might be." The stranger sneered before shifting, bearing down on Nie Mingjue one handed to send a tendril of qi in his veins.
Nie Mingjue hissed, a confusing mixture of reluctance and rage simmering inside him. Fueled by confusion, fear, and admittedly a touch of arousal as the stranger's knee pressed against his belly. Power and something with the tang of the storm lingered in the air as the man loomed over him.
If he could just get some leverage—
The stranger narrowed his eyes before rapidly wrestling Nie Mingjue before the bigger man could truly turn the tables—grappling Nie Mingjue into a choke-hold before resettling. Sword no longer in his face, but far from being in control of the situation.
"You—!" Nie Mingjue struggled, fingers digging into the meat of the stranger's arm—dappled in small bumps—and attempting to pry the arm off his neck. "Get. Off. Of. Me—!"
"I so very much tire of repeating myself" the stranger scoffed. His hot breath puffed against Nie Mingjue's ear, measured and frustratingly absent of any effort to hold Nie Mingjue still. "I will not ask again: where is my husband?"
"I am the last person who would know who that is" Nie Mingjue growled "much less why you would be in my chambers of all places—unless of course you're prone to invading the chambers of Sect Leaders."
"Very amusing" the stranger said dryly "I do not need reason for being in my own bedroom that I share with my husband."
"Last I checked" Nie Mingjue griped "this was my bedroom in the Unclean Realm."
"And it would be so, if you were the actual man whom that body belongs to" the stranger hissed. In a lower voice, he snarled at Nie Mingjue. "I swear by all the swords of Cang Qiong, if you harm a hair on Nie Qingzheng's head—"
His name—why the hell did this stranger say his name?
No one knew his personal name except for a select few.
"Da-ge, Ming-shixiong?" Huaisang—?! "It's rare for you two to be late—"
Nie Mingjue strained his eyes to warn his brother of the stranger before the doors slid open. He watched, eyes wide as Huaisang-yet-not walked through, dressed in the clothes of a young master with a fan in his hand and a sabre hanging on his side. He knew his brother, knew the little brat would rather shake his head and risk his ire than to seriously pursue his sabre mastery—and why did Huaisang look older?
Huaisang startled in front of them, blinking at their position before recollecting himself. A shiver went up Nie Mingjue's spine as a cold, calculated look took over his brother's face. Assessing the situation with a starving voraciousness he rarely ever saw outside of his appreciation for the arts.
"Ming-shixiong, what's wrong wtih Da-ge?"
"I don't know" the man, somehow Huaisang's senior, was he in the Sect, replied. Ming wasn't exactly an uncommon family name but he did not recall one amongst the Elders of Qinghe Nie Sect. "But he's not my husband, that's for certain."
"I'm not your damn husband!" Nie Mingjue barked.
Nie Huaisang's eyes narrowed at him for that, glancing briefly as the stranger's arms tightened just a little before laxing just enough to maintain the firm hold. His brother stepped closer, weary and assessing.
"Da-ge" Nie Huaisang said slowly "do you remember me?"
"What do you mean 'do I remember'?! You're my brother aren't you?" Nie Mingjue snapped. "Don't just stand there Huaisang, get this man off me!"
"You don't remember Ming-shixiong? Wei-shixiong?"
Wei? No- he wasn't necessarily close to the man who became the Yiling Partriarch but he knew damn well enough that the man's face did not line up to the boy he saw grow up to be a force to be reckoned with and feared. Demonic Cultivation or not. "Huaisang, why would I need to know Wei Wuxian?"
"You-" Nie Huaisang startled "No, that's not- that's Wei Ying. A-Ying? This is Da-shixiong, Wei Ming…Wei Ying's gege."
What— "Huaisang, Wei Wuxian doesn't have a brother." At least none that anyone knew of that shared Wei Wuxian's family name of 'Wei'.
The stranger exchanged glances with Huaisang before slowly letting Nie Mingjue go, getting up from the bed with a movement that would have been unnaturally graceful, had it not been for the stilted movements of the stranger clearly wanting to be as far away from Nie Mingjue as he physically could get.
"Da-ge." Nie Huaisang said slowly, assessing Nie Mingjue less like his own brother and moreso like a threat. "…what did my mother give me before she passed?"
Such a question— "Don't be ridiculous Huaisang, she gave you her garden"
Nie Huaisang's eyes glanced back towards the stranger, whose arms were now crossed and expression a cold mask of indifference. One could almost mistake him for the Lan's Hanguang-jun had it not been for the arms crossed in front of him.
"Da-ge," Nie Huaisang said softly, moving closer. "Let's talk."
So.
This world was not his, at least, not in the way Nie Mingjue remembers. If ever there were legends of the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, he had never heard of it. Nor did he ever hear of its prominent members who apparently achieved such great feats before his time.
And Ming Fan was…one of them.
As well as his once-head disciple. Now Jin- Meng Yao was his still- no, is his head disciple; while Ming Fan—or Wei Fan as he was commonly known—was his husband.
Nie Mingjue wasn't sure what to feel about apparently being a cut-sleve, though he supposed he couldn't really find it in himself to be particularly taken off-guard. The physical traits of a person had never truly been what tended to draw him.
Watching Huaisang as he left to take care of Sect Matters in Mingjue's stead, Nie Mingjue couldn't help but let his mind wander about the circumstances which brought forth this more self-assured, balanced version of his brother. The cunning mind he knew was in there now refined to a sharp blade, carefully sheathed unless drawn for necessity. His brother was stronger than the one he remembered, physically; as Huaisang had always been more intelligent than others gave him credit for, and he had a feeling he didn't achieve such a feat on his own.
And Meng Yao…wasn't crafty, in this world. Cunning yes, but honed, focused. Not so much set on gaining Jin Guangshan's approval, no longer sensitive towards jabs at his birth. Perhaps in large part due to the fact that his mother was still alive and well. Lan Xichen sounded like he seemed happier, and his brother apparently married to none other than the very boy he had heard Lan Xichen speak of in amusement towards their antics.
All this because of a few changes Huaisang had said, though Nie Mingjue was more inclined to say that such a change was because of one particular one.
Movement from the side drew Nie Mingjue's attention as Ming Fan shifted on a chair, stiff and overtly postured.
He…was pretty at least. In that Old Fox kind of way, now that Nie Mingjue took the time to look at him. Though something about his demeanor itched in a way that made Nie Mingjue uncomfortable. Cold and aloof almost, it was hard to tell what the other man was thinking.
The man had kept watch over Huaisang's shoulder like a sentry, watching Nie Mingjue's every move as an owl its dinner. Quiet and subdued in the background but merely biding its time to strike at it deigned. He wasn't entirely surprised, no matter what changes could have occurred, Nie Mingjue doubted he would have married anyone who didn't concern themselves with Huaisang's safety. He had promised he would keep him safe, and Huaisang was the only family he had left after their father had fallen at Wen Ruohan's hands.
He cleared his throat.
"The Burial Mounds" he started from his seat on the bed "Huaisang said nothing of it."
The man—Ming Fan, he reminded himself—regarded him with a careful assessment before he walked closer. Chifeng-zun braced himself to move slightly, thinking that Ming Fan would sit on the bed, instead the man took a chair and moved it closer with a wave of his hand. Settling on it with a grace that reminded him of Lan Huan.
"With good reason I would think" Ming Fan said politely, it was hard to reconcile the man who had asked about him so warmly just a few hours ago. "I believe Huaisang considers it to be a moment of shame, for you and others. Your recount of your world's Wei Ying dying during the Siege of Yiling had likely put him off for giving details."
The man's words wore clinical, clipped. Not even conversational: Nie Mingjue wasn't regarded as a foe, but he was being treated with the barest amounts of courtesy.
"I take it that the Siege to take the Yin Tiger Tally never happened in this world" Nie Mingjue ignored the annoyance building in his belly.
"It did." He watched Ming Fan take a sip of tea, he would almost call it pretentious. "There was only one death. Wei Ying's."
Nie Mingjue sat with that for a moment. "So the Wens are still alive."
"Wen Qing and her brother currently reside in Lotus Pier. Wen Yuan has taken up the name Lan Yuan, courtesy name: Lan Sizhui, as Lan Wangji's adopted son. Wen Qing erstwhile is in courtship with Jiang Sect's head disciple: Yan Fenglang."
Another name Nie Mingjue didn't recognize. Then again, in this world, Lotus Pier never fell to the Wens, so perhaps that disciple had been one of the ones that fell during the Wen's siege upon Lotus Pier. There was little else he could say other than offer an awkward condolence for Wei Wuxian's death.
"My brother is no longer dead" Ming Fan said, as easily as mentioning the weather. "In fact, he's currently out wandering with his husband."
That…did not bode well for his world if it were true that Wei Wuixian could somehow return. This world may have had Wei Ying's brother to apparently soften the blow, but his was not so fortunate. Though others were loathe to admit it, Wei Wuxian had fallen to no one's sword but his own.
He had never truly thought about that boy's death in a long while, but it wasn't as if he had much choice.
The Wens and the Jiangs were still alive. Jin Guangyao never truly existed in this world, Lan Xichen was never torn between himself and the man who rose to become Sect Leader of the Jin Sect. Jin Zixuan and Lotus Pier's eldest daughter never died to Wei Wuxian's fierce corpose: and indeed, the famed doctor Wen Qing and her brother never died.
And the world was somehow better. Happier. Jin Guangyao's ideas for patrol towers were no longer soley reliant on the Jin Sect but was a shared effort between all three remaining Great Sects. The talismans that Wei Wuxian had crafted were far superior than the ones that were now put in use in his world thanks to the fact that their creator was still alive to make improvements. Nie Huaisang was no longer the boy mocked by others for his weakness, but a respected cultivator in his own right.
And Nie Mingjue felt better than ever, at least his body did anyway. As the body he was in had apparently been mostly healed of its wounds from his qi imbalance, decades of Qi Deviations being either avoided or healed over from time and technique.
The reason for all those changes stood in front of him, and Nie Mingjue was being scrutinized like a particularly annoying insect.
He…tried not to think about what that could mean.
"How…did we meet?" Nie Mingjue asked quietly.
Finally—though not completely—Ming Fan appeared to soften.
"You were perhaps about 13 or 15, I had been younger physically. Huaisang had gotten lost in the Unclean Realm, about to be bullied by the Senior Disciples before I intervened." Ming Fan paused to drink. "That is the earliest we had met, though officially, we met when I had been a traveling Rouge Cultivator tracking a ghost in your city. A Maiden Lei whose ghost sought revenge on her family."
Nie Mingjue could only vaguely remember such an event, many had died before the ghost was dealt with.
The prior meeting mentioned he could remember more clearly; there hadn't been many times in their childhoods that Mingjue had lost his brother for an extensive amount of time—especially after that day. Nie Mingjue had found his brother hiding under the skirts of the fan seller, sporting bruises and dirtied robes along with a refusal to tell Mingjue who had hurt him. Mingjue had made sure to keep him close ever since, including trusting his brother to the Lan Sect with the knowledge that Xichen would look after him.
The anger was also something he remembered acutely.
"After Maiden Lei was truly laid to rest, I and in-turn, Wei Ying, joined with Nie Sect for a time. Up until the the months following the end of the Sunshot Campaign in which mysself and my brother had separated from Nie Sect due to differnces of opinion." Ming Fan drank his cup of tea again, this time nearly downing the entire cup as if it were wine. "As well as to properly deal with the matter of the Yin Tiger Tally."
Nie Mingjue snorted. "I'm assuming Jin Guangshan was also insistent on obtaining it here?"
Ming Fan tilted his head. "You speak of it as if you did not agree."
"I agreed that Wei Wuxian was out of line absconding the Wen Prisoners from the Jin Camps" Nie Mingjue pointed out, careful to avoid saying 'Wen Dog' if only in respect to the fact that this world so-clearly established the suriving Wens with more grace. "The Yin Tiger Tally was a concern and he is, was, arrogant—but I respected Wei Wuxian for his part in the Sunshot Campaign, and Huaisang liked him even when his condition began to appear…unstable. He was…a straightforward man. That, I at least, respected."
Unlike someone else, though Nie Mingjue would not mention it.
At this, Ming Fan snorted at him.
"Don't kid yourself Sect Leader Nie" Ming Fan had a way about him that made his title seem almost derogatory. "That isn't the reason why you decided you didn't mind him. You just didn't mind him because he wasn't necessarily a concern of yours, hardly knew him likely—based on your opinion of him. You just never found yourself in a position where he went against you."
Nie Mingjue scowled. "You dare—"
"You forget, that I married my Nie Mingjue." Ming Fan snapped, the thud of hardwood echoed throughout his-the chamber. "I'm fully aware of how much of a shit you can be, how arrogant you can get, and I'm also aware that you care for very little other than yourself and perhaps Lan Xichen. You are possessive, narrow-minded, and you hold others to your morals without reflecting on yourself."
"Not" Ming Fan continued after his triad, Nie Mingjue couldn't tell what the other man was thinking. "That I blame you, not entirely. Without me- or perhaps someone else present in your life, I doubt you would have realized the damage that the Nie Sect way of Cultivation can incur- and beyond that, I doubt someone could have the presence of mind to point out your tendency to lean towards a blinding sort of self righteousness due to your circumstances.
"Afterall." The other man continued, folding his fingers in his lap. "My Mingjue didn't quite realize that issue until after Wei Ying died and my Shizun took me away to revive my body properly."
Nie Mingjue's grip on the sheets were tight. Instinctively, he wanted to bite back. Wanted to push Ming Fan away and bare his teeth—what did this man know of his character? What did he know about the things he's done in order to make sure Huaisang was safe—
He wanted to, he wanted to so badly. This Ming Fan reminded him of another, someone who spoke up to him and chided him quietly, who implored him to take it easy on Huaisang. He also reminded him of someone who was clever enough to make such observations in the first place, someone he used to trust.
It didn't help that this man looked so damn sad as he looked at him. Annoyed and angry to be sure—but sad. Like he knew that the happiness in Mingjue's life felt fleeting, like he knew Mingjue could never really relax. Never be truly content with his life, always seeking out a battle. Always preparing himself for the worst to come.
"Revive your body?" Mingjue asked, through gritted teeth and mentally forcing back the urge to snap. Something about snapping about a man who so clearly loved- cared about…a version of him, seemed just wrong.
"I died when Wen Chao threw my brother into the Burial Mounds—well not exactly. He through Wei Ying off a cliff and I followed after, I merely died as a consequence" Ming Fan shrugged. "He managed to revive me as something like a fierce corpse. Though I was entirely conscious and able to access the full scope of my qi. I just couldn't generate enough yin to maintain my hold on my body. The tally had been Wei Ying's solution to it. Which then pushed my ability to produce yang energy to the limit."
There was a time when Wei Wuxian had disappeared and abruptly reappeared, Nie Mingjue thought grimly, he supposed he was now one of the only people to know where the boy had gone in that time.
If he knew himself, and allowed hismelf to believe that this world's version of him was fond of Ming Fan enough to marry him; he could easily imagine how he would get knowing he died.
"I assume I was livid." Nie Mingjue muttered to himself.
"For a time, we returned in time for the siege upon the Nightless City, I defeated Wen Ruohan and Meng Yao's role had been discovered. I had to coax that arrogant fuck to try and stab me just to give Meng Yao some leeway when his double-crossing was revealed in full."
Nie Mingjue snorted. "So he did that here too."
"I approved the idea" Ming Fan rose his brows at Nie Mingjue's sudden turn. "I'm not new to war Sect Leader Nie. In fact, I could likely guarantee that I've lived through more wars than both your generation and the one who proceeded you had endured. I've done much worse than what Meng Yao did, and was willing to put myself on the line. My brother also knew of it, though…we didn't anticipate Wen Ruohan wanting to…convince me of his merits."
Ming Fan sneered to the side as if the remembrance of the enemy made him gag. Nie Mingjue could at least agree with the sentiment.
In that way, he supposed that Ming Fan was someone that was similar to Jin Guangyao in that sense. He also seemed to be as empathetic as Xichen was. Was that why Ming Fan seemed so appealing to the version of himself who lived here?
…If Nie Mingjue was forced to stay—could he possibly come to feel the same? He wasn't sure, and given Ming Fan's animosity, as concealed as it was, he wasn't sure if this Ming Fan would even consider it a possibility. The man seemed ready to pull his soul out of his body once he discovered that he wasn't his Nie Mingjue, he doubted that Ming Fan would be so willing to let his other self go.
The thought made his headache worse.
Ming Fan watched him for a moment before releasing a long sigh, getting up from his chair and and climbing on top of him.
"Wha-"
"Hush" Ming Fan chided quietly. "You're making that face—I know that face. Your head aches, I can do this much for you at least."
Ming Fan settled on his chest, reaching out to his temples with fingers that were oddly cold. Pressing against the sides of his head and massaging slowly.
Nie Mingjue groaned, the cool relief spreading through his brow. He couldn't help himself, his hands settling on Ming Fan's waist, holding him there. The weight of him oddly comforting.
Sometime in his relief, Nie Mingjue suddenly regained his humor. "If you do this for me, I can see why I married you."
Ming Fan chuckled, soft and warm. Nie Mingjue let himself think that Ming Fan found him somewhat if not just as charming as his husband, even if he personally knew of no one like Ming Fan. "You keep me around for more than this, but I suppose this is a strong appeal for me. It helps that you have a thing for teachers I think."
That was a surprise, and not really true for Nie Mingjue as he knew. "Mn. A difference then, between us."
"Likely." Ming Fan said softly. "You likely have an affection for Xichen, or perhaps Meng Yao."
Nie Mingjue hummed, as if he hadn't just been thinking of that himself moments ago. It seems his husband really did know him well.
"We've discussed it, I wasn't opposed to it, but my Mingjue seemed to be content with me so I let the matter lie."
"You would have let me?" Nie Mingjue murmured, surprised.
"My shimei has two wives, and I'm not entirely without my interests. Though I don't have any at this moment." Ming Fan huffed softly in amusement "I did find it funny that my generation has a much more flexible sense of sexual and romantic freedoms than this generation. Though I suppose that arousal inducing fauna was a more frequent presence in my time, so long as the act was consensual, there was very little out of the question."
That was something Nie Mingjue entirely interesting.
"And if I said I wasn't opposed?" Nie Mingjue murmurred, sliding a hand further up Ming Fan's waist. Cupping his lower back.
"…Then, I would say that I'm uncertain." Ming Fan replied, soft and honest. "You share his face, some mannerisms. But you are a different man than my Qingzheng. If…if it were permanent, maybe…but also maybe not."
That hurt, but fair. Nie Mingjue casually moved his hand up higher, more of a hug than the suggestion he was attempting.
"Apologies."
"None taken" Nie Mingjue said softly. Rubbing circles into the older man's back, it felt right, comforting Ming Fan. "I don't blame you, and I appreciate your frankness. Even if it hurts. I…life seems so much easier here, I wish I had you in my world."
Maybe Meng Yao wouldn't have lost himself chasing a fantasy in Jin Guangshan, maybe Lan Xichen would be less anxious about his brother. Maybe Nie Huaisang would be happier in his life knowing his brother would be around for a lot longer.
Ming Fan paused his touch, looking a little sad. "Mingjue…"
"I died. I think." Nie Mingjue said softly. "In my world. I remember Qi deviating…then I woke up here."
"A-Jue…"
Mingjue could feel himself slipping, could feel the darkness stretching past his line of sight. Tugging him away. He was leaving. He didn't want to leave.
He surged up to kiss Ming Fan.
The older man, perhaps pitying him, allowed it. Not kissing back, but not pushing him away either.
"He probably loves you" Mingjue said softly, quickly, rushing through his words "far more than you think. I spend a few minutes talking to you and I want to stay, even if it means breaking your heart to do it."
"I'm sorry" Ming Fan could only reply.
"I know" Mingjue sighs. "Thank you anyway. For being you."
"A-Jue-"
"Because if this is the last thing I get to do, see my brother okay and you being some verison of mine-then I think I'm okay with that. Ming Fan. Thank you." Mingjue finished, just as the black took over completely.
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