Chapter Text
The cultivation conference was well under way. Nothing was out of the ordinary- Nie Huaisang, head cultivator, was sat at the head of the room, Sect leader Yao was droning on about some imaginary threat while Lan Xichen tried to placate him, Jin Ling was trying to assert whatever dominance he could over the other sect leaders, and Jiang Cheng had long ago stormed out over a petty disagreement.
Just as Nie Huaisang had angled his fan just so, hiding his face perfectly and allowing his eyes to drift shut for three blissful seconds, the doors were thrown open. Jiang Cheng stood, breathing heavily with Sandu raised and Zidain crackling by his side
“Everyone. Out.”
Nie Huaisang took a moment to appreciate Lan Xichens perfectly shaped eyebrow as it was raised, because for a sect so obsessed with plainness and uniformity everyone seemed unfairly beautiful,
“May I ask what the emergency is?”
“Ghoul- trying to break into Qinghe- cultivators need assistance-” he panted, and a single once-over of the man told Nie Huaisang just how credible the idea was. His robes were undisturbed save a slight loosening of the sash to make it look like he’d been running, though Huaisang had enough experience with Jiang Chengs robes to tell it was done deliberately. He was also completely unwounded, and anyone who’d known Jiang Wanyin for five minutes would be able to tell you that he would never ask for assistance unless absolutely necessary- any sometimes not even then.
Anyone who’d known Jiang Wanyin for five minutes could also tell you that you did not<\i> want to ignore him when he was pissed. And judging from the intensity of his glare, the thunderous crackling of Zidain, and state of the doors he’d so kindly removed to warn the guests of the ‘oncoming threat’ (Nie Huaisang would have to charge him for that), he was definitely pissed.
Nie Huiasang could sympathise- if he hadn’t spent a lifetime convincing everyone his only emotions were ‘scared’, ‘tired’, and ‘whiney’, he’d probably look similar after entering the conference.
Luckily for his sanity, nobody seemed to analyse Jiang Cheng as closely as he had- probably looking for an excuse to escape,<\i>- he thought as Jin Ling took his opportunity to grab his sword and leave sect leader Yao mid-sentence.
Nie Huaisang did his best to look startled by the news of this entirely fake threat
“Oh, my! Please- you’ll have to excuse our defences, I’m hardly an expert… But I’d feel just awful<\i> if anyone got hurt. Uhm, I don’t know what to do…”
The signature ’I don’t know’<\i> seemed to be the last blow, and as the remaining cultivators seized their chance to flee this insanely mind-numbing event, Zidains steady crackle and the dull purple illumination disappeared with them.
Nie Huaisang dropped all pretenses of panic, lazily fanning himself.
“Your acting’s improved.”
“Learned from the best,” Jiang Cheng smirked as he approached the head table, sheathing Sandu.
“Mh?” Nie Huaisang asked, trying to calm his heartbeat as the man approached.
“That was an awful idea.”
“...Funnily enough, I don’t really care.”
And before Huaisang could think of another vaguely flirtatious insult, he’d stood and captured Jiang Chengs lips with his, bumping noses in his eagerness and letting out an involuntary whimper as Jiang Cheng tried to pull him closer, heedless of the table sandwiched between them.
“What do you say to heading somewhere else… Y’know, before everyone else comes back?” He breathed out as he broke away, gazing up at Jiang Cheng fondly.