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Huaisang was desperate. He hid his worried scowls behind his elegantly held fans and smothered his sobs with vehement denials of hysterical "I don’t know"s, stubborn refusals to practice the saber cultivation.
A-Yao, no, Jin Guangyao, was being a slimy Jin, truly the son of that sleazy Sect Leader. Huaisang feels chills creep from that once warm smile of his. It reeked of deceit, of something underhanded.
Da-ge’s condition always seemed worse after his guqin sessions and Huaisang also learned to hide the bruises, since his brother doesn’t seem to remember what he does in his fits of rage.
Nie Huaisang grew increasingly suspicious of the short, hat-wearing bastard ever since Wei-xiong had reportedly murdered Jin Zixuan.
The more he had read about Da-ge’s condition in the Qinghe library, (especially ever since it started to remind him of the time Father- when Father-) the more it seemed like Da-ge was dyin- NO! He stopped himself from finishing that cursed word.
He would go to any extent to save his Da-ge. The Da-ge who fed him when he ran away from the dining halls after Father beat him, applied salves, the precious big brother who braided his hair and bought him his favourite fans.
He found his solution when one of Da-ge’s men reported to him that the Wen siblings were going to be publicly executed for their and the Yiling Patriarch’s crimes. Well, Da-ge’s men were loyal to him because they wanted the best for their leader, anyway.
Bringing the Wen siblings to the Unclean Realm was no big feat for Huaisang. All he had to tell Da-ge was that the Jins got more than enough share of war spoils, and that the Ghost General could be better suppressed at Qinghe, what with the great use he would be, in suppressing the saber spirits.
Huaisang had never seen either in person and was grateful for the latest fan he painted for covering his dropped jaw. 'Earth Goddess' was the first thought that went through his muddy brain. Brown robes, hair slightly tangled, framing a sharp-eyed face, flowing behind her as she was flying with Da-ge’s right-hand man.
All of the cultivation world knew of Wen Qing’s prowess as a physician, and letting go of his best shot at saving his Da-ge, (Jin Guangyao was never an option) was the stupidest thing Nie Huaisang would do in his entire life.
A decent accommodation, an oath to serve Qinghe Nie and a promise to save the rest of the remnants later, the Wen siblings remain in their kowtow as Da-ga once again descended into a Qi-deviation. This one was after hearing about how a mere infant was made to watch his relatives get raped and a ninety-year-old woman chained to pull boulders.
Wen Qing’s head snapped up as Nie Mingjue angrily ordered ten of his men to bring them all, Wei Wuxian included, and sent them off with a letter containing the seal of the Sect Leader of Qinghe Nie. Da-ge’s qi was completely going out of control, his nose bleeding heavily.
“Da-ge!”, screamed Nie Huaisang, as the undefeatable Chi-Feng Zun stumbled to his knees when he got up from his throne. Before Huaisang could even move an inch, Wen Qing rushed forward and tapped some pressure points, effectively knocking out Da-ge. Nie Huaisang was speechless for a moment before he was bustling around, arranging for the bed and supplies in the healer’s block.
A thorough examination later, Wen Qing came out looking no different, except probably more heavenly in Huaisang’s eyes, fully in her element as she questioned him about Da-ge’s condition.
Oh boy. Nie Huaisang was starstruck with the way she cared for her brother, the first and only tears she had shed when she embraced Wei Wuxian, Granny and Wen Yuan. Her strong, yet gentle hands as she worked on her patients. The seemingly stern admonishments at how he sometimes prepared the medicine to be a little less bitter for his brother, the way her gaze would soften at him (yes! He had seen that softly smouldering gaze on him when she thought he didn’t observe) as he interacted with his brother and his birds.
And oh, the time she caught him teaching A-Yuan and Wen Qionglin to paint, she hurriedly left the room after standing frozen at the door.
Huaisang could not have imagined that sweet rosy blush on Maiden Wen’s cheeks as she almost ran out. That night, while getting ready to sleep, upon thinking a bit about the.. incident, he realised that he was bent over the table while painting, his plump ass greeting the door as A-Yuan sat on Wen Qionglin’s lap on the other side.
A slow grin overtook his face, hand habitually moving up to cover it demurely even with the absence of his fan, as he thought, ‘Perhaps, it might not be one-sided, after all.’