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1
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Nie Huaisang asked. “A night hunt with those juniors of yours, perhaps?”
Wen Ning shrugged. “Everyone went home for the New Year.”
“And you went…to the Unclean Realm? Which, correct me if I’m wrong, you’ve never been to before in your life? Or – un-life?”
“No. Never.”
Nie Huaisang was developing a headache. “Wen Ning. Why are you here and not in Gusu? You might not have much family to celebrate the holiday with, but you do have one.”
“Yes,” Wen Ning said, ducking his head. “But you don’t.”
2
“I don’t need your money, Nie-zongzhu.”
Nie Huaisang fanned himself and gave a long, overly dramatic sigh. “I know! You have all the coffers of Lanling behind you, thanks to young master Jin Ling, and naturally Gusu wouldn’t let you go hungry – or, well, you know what I mean – and everyone knows they’re rich. The little drop from my Nie sect would disappear into the ocean of your unclaimed riches.”
Wen Ning stared, mouth agape.
“I was just saying that you didn’t know how to spend it.”
3
“We’re drinking buddies now,” Nie Huaisang explained.
Wei Wuxian kept smiling, then not smiling, then smiling again. “He – can’t drink.”
“That seems like a problem you should fix, then, doesn’t it?”
4
Nie Huaisang spent each anniversary of his brother’s death kneeling next to his memorial tablet, as if belated piety could make up for all the years of rejecting his brother’s outreached hand just because he didn’t like his manner, of making a mockery of the things his brother held dear, of preferring Jin Guangyao because of an ounce of indulgence and few stupid trifles given as gifts. He wondered if his brother felt the same way about their father: an entire war against the Wens, justified by external evidence as it might have been, driven by a teenager who felt he hadn’t done enough when it was still possible.
Maybe that was the real Nie curse – a failure to communicate, and then regret.
Wen Ning nudged him a little, shoulder-to-shoulder, to break the pall cast by gloomy thoughts; he’d started keeping him company on these vigils. In return, Nie Huaisang would light incense and burn money for Wen Qing, and helped Wen Ning sweep the site of her grave on Qingming.
Some things only a useless younger brother could understand.
5
“Wen Ning?” Lan Sizhui was happy to see him, as always, though he couldn’t quite stop the confusion from seeping into his expression. “It’s good to see you.”
“Forget that,” Lan Jingyi interjected. “What are you doing sitting in the sect leader’s place in the Unclean Realm?”
“…Nie Huaisang got bored,” Wen Ning said. “I’m temporarily filling in.”
“As – sect leader?” Jin Ling asked, eyes suddenly intently interested. “Is that a thing?”
“Not really,” Wen Ning said apologetically. “My instructions are to just say ‘I don’t know’ to everyone that asks anything.”
“But Sect Leader Nie hasn’t done the head-shaker routine in years,” Lan Sizhui said, puzzled.
Wen Ning shrugged. “He said that if his sect could deal with it for over a decade, they can deal with it for the week he takes to go to the beach.”
“The beach,” Jin Ling said enviously. “Say, do you think I could pull the same trick with Fairy?”
“I don’t see why not,” Lan Jingyi said at once. “You’re both small and hairy beasts – stop hitting me! You’re a Sect Leader! You should act like one! Wen Ning, tell him!”
“Don’t ask me,” Wen Ning said. “I don’t know.”