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"Chifeng-zun," Jiang Wanyin said, his voice shockingly calm. "Are you in pain?"
"No," Nie Mingjue said.
"Try moving."
He shifted his left arm and felt the warm burn pressing into his skin. Zidian's pain was almost numbing, in a different way than pain from the saber or a clean fight. "Hurts," he said.
"It's supposed to."
"I know," he snapped, his arm pushing harder against the whip, the cold-hot-numb pain escalating.
"Steady," Jiang Wanyin said. "Deep breaths."
How the fuck did I let Huaisang talk me into this? The Song of Clarity hadn't been helping much, it was true, but this idea was—
"Deep breaths," came Jiang Wanyin's sharp voice, and Zidian tightened further against his skin.
Nie Mingjue ached for Baxia.
Jiang Wanyin's hand rested on the back of his neck, light. "The more you fight, the more she'll fight back. If that's what you want, that's what we'll give you." His fingers were warm on Nie MIngjue's skin. "But I don't know if that's what you want."
Nie Mingjue didn't either.
This was a stupid fucking idea. Generations of Nies had fallen to the saber curse, and plenty of them had tried to heal their deteriorating meridians with dual cultivation. There were pages and pages of notes in the Nie family archives outlining what they had tried, where they had failed. The only thing that had showed any promise in five hundred years was the Song of Clarity, and everyone at Qinghe knew it was losing its potency.
But his little brother had put his laziness aside and thrown himself into research, and while it still didn't get him to saber practice, it meant he was working to benefit the sect. He'd even started carrying his fucking saber around in an attempt to keep Nie Mingjue calmer.
The least he could do was try...something.
The Yu family's spiritual weapons were legendary, and while their secrets were kept well within the family, some were known to affect the flow of qi.
Zidian was known to affect the flow of qi, if the wielder wished. Sect Leader Jiang had inherited the weapon from his mother, and had been forced to master it quickly. The war had been over for years, but neither the Sect Leader nor Zidian had been quiet in the years that followed. When his little brother had asked his old friend (were they still friends? was anyone still friends, after the wars?), Jiang Wanyin had been blunt. Yes, he could sense meridians through the weapon. No, he wasn't sure if he could clear them; he'd never tried. Yes, he'd be willing to try to help Chifeng-zun, of course he would.
Somehow from that (the answer, of course, was Huaisang), he'd ended up here, on his knees in his own bedroom, dozens of talismans shielding them both from prying eyes and listening ears. He'd stripped naked so Zidian could directly touch his skin.
Baxia shivered in its sheath.
"Stop that," Jiang Wanyin snapped. "You have that much control."
"Fuck off," Nie Mingue growled back.
Jiang Wanyin slapped him, hard, on the cheek. The pain was sudden and brutal and the roaring in his head faded instantly.
Shit.
Huaisang was going to be so fucking smug if he was right.
"Tighter," Nie Mingjue said, his voice low and dark. "Pull it tighter."
Zidian responded, drawing deeper into his skin. It hurt.
Jiang Wanyin's hand dug into Nie Mingjue's hair. "More pain?"
He couldn't bring himself to say it. "Don't fucking stop."
Jiang Wanyin tightened his hand around Nie Mingjue's braids and pulled.
Everything went quiet.
Nie Mingjue heard Jiang Wanyin hmm, a little under his breath, and Zidian pulled his legs apart. He caught himself with his forearms just as Jiang Wanyin slapped his ass, a stinging blow that left his skin tingling. Nie Mingjue's dick twitched. When had he gotten hard?
Zidian burned, and Nie Mingjue pushed against its constraints again. Jiang Wanyin's hand pressed against the base of Nie Mingjue's spine. Jiang Wanyin's qi flowed in, cool and comforting. Hot and cold warred in his body, and his own qi felt like a river, rushing through his meridians. Was it better? Worse? He couldn't tell. It felt like he was losing control of his own body.
"Stop fighting me," Jiang Wanyin said.
He wasn't trying to.
Jiang Wanyin slapped his ass again. Fuck.
Zidian was shifting against his skin, and he felt its lightning buzz cross the skin of his balls.
"What are you—"
"Shut up." Smack. "Stop fighting. I'll hurt you more if you want, but you have to stop fighting her."
"Fine," he spat. "More."
The bindings tightened so swiftly his vision went bright and fuzzy for a moment. "That's better," Jiang Wanyin said, with satisfaction. "Let's get started."
Jiang Cheng had come out of Da-ge's bedroom acting confident and arrogant, but the facade had dropped quickly. Nie Huaisang had made sure there was a hot bath waiting, and now Jiang Cheng—not quite Sect Leader Jiang, but not his old friend Jiang-xiong, either—was soaking while Da-ge meditated. "Your brother's going to kill me," he said, passing his hands over his face.
Nie Huaisang was flipping through a novel he'd read before; it had been hard to concentrate, while he was worrying about what was happening in the other room, and now he was worried about what state Da-ge would be in when he came out. "He won't. I won't let him."
Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. "His meridians...how have they gotten that bad? It hasn't been that long since the war."
Nie Huaisang thought of Jin Guangyao and tightened his jaw. "You shouldn't even know as much as you do, Jiang-xiong."
"Fine." He shifted in the water. "I did what I could," he said. "Zidian has her limits."
"But you think it might have helped?"
Jiang Cheng shrugged. "It'll be easier to tell when he's finished meditating. I wish Mom...." He swallowed. "She knew a lot more than I do. She started teaching me once I was old enough, but they worked together for decades. It's not the same."
For a second, Nie Huaisang pictured his brother tied up by Jiang Cheng's terrifying mother. "I think it's easier to have it be you," he said. "You're a sect leader like he is."
"It felt weird. I grew up looking up to him. Telling him what to do...I felt like a kid playing pretend."
Nie Huaisang grinned, in spite of himself. "You used to play pretend, Jiang-xiong?"
"Every kid does, right? You probably pretended you were a famous artist who never had to work a day in his life." He shot a look at Nie Huaisang. "Oh, wait, you still do."
Nie Huaisang grabbed at the sponge to throw it at him, but that was when Da-ge came into the room.
He was dressed, though not fully—just his trousers and inner robe, and his hair was loosely pulled back. His eyes looked clear. "Get out of my bath," he said.
"How are you feeling, Da-ge?"
"Like I need a fucking bath," he said. Jiang Cheng was already hastening to get out of the water.
Nie Huaisang handed him a towel. "Da-ge," he said.
"I haven't tried to strangle either of you yet," Da-ge snapped. "That's progress."
Jiang Cheng was attempting to get as far away from both of them as possible as he dried off, which was challenging in such a small room.
"Jiang-xiong," Nie Huaisang said, sweetly. It was probably cruel to pull him into a conversation he very much didn't want to be part of, but Nie Huaisang wasn't a kind person. "Could you check Da-ge's meridians for me?"
Da-ge said, "Let me get into the fucking bath first."
Jiang Cheng was tying up his trousers. "You two don't actually need me to argue. I can come back—"
"No," they both said.
Jiang Cheng snorted.
Da-ge got into the bath and glared at Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng, at least pretending to be undaunted, came over and took his wrist. "Shit," he said. "That's...that's not bad."
"He's better?"
"Relax," Da-ge said, which was rich coming from him.
"There's still a lot of damage," Jiang Cheng said. "I'm not making promises. How does it feel to you, Chifeng-zun?"
Da-ge closed his eyes. "More stable. Mostly in my core. Hard to say how long it'll last, but...I think it's better. Thank you, Jiang Wanyin."
"It's my honor to be able to help you," he said. "I'll finish getting dressed and leave you to your bath."
"How soon can you come back?" Nie Huaisang asked.
"Don't bully him," Da-ge said.
"It's not an unreasonable question," Jiang Cheng said. "I do have other shit to do." He sat on the floor and started pinning his hair back in place. "Do you think you could travel?"
"I could probably manage it." Da-ge leaned back in the tub. "We could re-negotiate one of our treaties."
"Not a bad idea. How long do you two want to hide this?"
"As long as we can," Nie Huaisang said, picking up his fan and giving it a fey little flutter. He still had to figure out how to distract San-ge from playing Cleansing for a while, or to get Er-ge to come in his place. Maybe he could manufacture a crisis around the towers. "I'm sure you and Da-ge can think of something."
jiang Cheng shot him a disconcertingly sharp look.
Da-ge, who never had much patience for Nie Huaisang playing dumb, snorted. "Stay the night," he said to Jiang Cheng. "It's late, and you must be hungry."
Nie Huaisang watched the calculation flicker over Jiang Cheng's face. "All right," he said. "I'll send word to my First Disciple."
"Tell Nie Zonghui to make up a room for you," Da-ge said. He was waiting outside Da-ge's rooms, ensuring no one else had any idea that the two Sect Leaders had spent so much time alone.
Jiang Cheng bowed.
"You were right," Da-ge said, when they were both sure Jiang Cheng was out of earshot. "Fuck. You were right about this, you're probably right about Jin Guangyao."
Nie Huaisang put his fan down. "I didn't want to be right about that," he said. He'd almost missed it, anyway. But something about the the way Da-ge's illness flared after every round of Cleansing had finally gotten his attention, and he'd put the pieces together from there. "It might just be that Cleansing doesn't work after a while. Nothing's ever really worked, right? Maybe we just need to keep changing treatments."
"Maybe," Da-ge said, skeptically. "This helped, though."
"I'm glad."
There were red marks on Da-ge's skin from Zidian, tiny little lightning patterns from where it must have sparked. Nie Huaisang tried not to stare. "Go on, get ready for dinner," his brother said. "Make sure there's something spicy enough for Sect Leader Jiang."
"Oh, it's 'Sect Leader Jiang' again?"
"Shut up," Da-ge said, but it was his brother grumbling, not the fury Nie Huaisang associated with the saber curse. "This was your idea, you can't complain about it now."
"I wouldn't dream of it, Da-ge," Nie Huaisang said, and got up to do as his brother asked.