Chapter Text
Nie Mingjue preferred to review reports in the evening and thus, as his trusted attendant and assistant, Meng Yao was rarely in bed until well after dark. It had become a joke among the compound, his apparent tendency to wander at night, just another barb among the many that he silently, smilingly tolerated. Some simply accepted it as an amusing quirk, but to others it was somehow another sign of his unfitness, evidence that in some unclear way he took after his mother, a sneeringly whispered implication of what use the sect leader might actually have for him. He said nothing in response to these murmurs, just smiled, bowed, and remembered everything in minute detail.
This had been a particularly late night. Several of the nearby villages had been experiencing severe flooding, and thus needed both mundane assistance and cultivators to come deal with the unsurprising influx of water ghosts. Plans and schedules had to be drawn up, duty rosters populated, special assignments decided. And this sort of logistics work was the sort of thing Nie Mingjue valued Meng Yao most for, so by the time Meng Yao had been given leave to return to his own quarters, the moon was high and bright.
Well, “given leave” was an exaggeration–he had stayed until the sect leader was snoring at the table, then gently cajoled him out of the chair and into bed and continued to work on duty rosters and night-hunting routes until Nie Mingjue had opened one eye and mumbled, “Lights out. Go to bed. Good work today.”
“As you wish, Sect Leader Nie. This one will attend you in the morning.” Meng Yao straightened the papers, rose from his chair, and resisted the ludicrous urge to tuck the covers in around Nie Mingjue’s shoulders in favor of quietly letting himself out of the room.
He walked down the empty corridors of the Unclean Realm on silent feet, paused at the entry to the practice yard to admire the moon, and heard…rustling.
There was a woman at the other end of the practice yard, her face also tilted up to look at the moon.
Female disciples were not unknown in the Nie Sect, but they were uncommon enough that Meng Yao knew every one of them by even the slightest sight; the brutal Nie style of cultivation appealed to few women. He knew every servant in the compound by name as well. He wouldn’t put it past some of the rowdier male disciples to try to sneak in a prostitute for an evening’s entertainment, but then, he knew all of the whores in Qinghe as well. He knew everyone.
He did not know this woman. And this was, of course, before one considered the silver gleam of her eyes, or the burnished-red underglow of her black hair, or that she was wearing not a stitch of clothing.
Fascinating. There hadn’t been a huli jing in the vicinity of Qinghe for many years.
Holding his breath, he took a step forward into the practice yard, and then another. The fox woman didn’t seem to notice him. She was too absorbed in looking at the moon. When he was only a few paces away, though, she startled, in a manner so obviously practiced that he nearly laughed, and turned her silver eyes to him. “Oh,” she said, in a breathless voice that bubbled with suppressed laughter, “young master, I didn’t see you there! This humble guest stepped out to enjoy the moonlight, but I seem to have become lost; could I prevail upon the young master to show me back to the guest quarters?”
Meng Yao bowed, politely, and then straightened up with a smile. “This one would be happy to, honored guest, but first, please tell me, when did you arrive? Sect Leader did not inform me that he had invited a fox to stay.”
The fox woman stared at him for a long moment, eyes widening, and then said, “Shit,” and abruptly returned to her natural form and ran, nine tails waving like a flag.
It didn’t get far. Foxes were fast, but Meng Yao had always been faster than anyone ever gave him credit for, and had, moreover, been prepared for this in a way that the fox had not been. Nor did he try to grab, which could have overbalanced him and slowed him down; instead he leapt forward and brought down his foot on two of the fox’s outermost tails. It let out a suppressed noise of pain, struggling to get away, but could not, and after a moment it went limp, glaring up at him.
“You know,” he said, conversationally, “there hasn’t been a huli jing in the vicinity of Qinghe in fifty years at least, and certainly never one bold enough to come right into a sect compound looking for food.”
“Then it’s high time,” the fox snarled. “What are you going to do about it, cultivator?”
Meng Yao shrugged. “Well, my cultivation isn’t especially powerful, and I haven’t got any weapons to hand, so I doubt I could take you in a fight.”
The fox’s tongue lolled out in a laugh—
“But Young Master Nie keeps a pair of very charming dogs, and he often charges me with their care when he’s busy.” He could feel the dimples appearing in his cheeks as he smiled, and when he patted the qiankun pouch at his waist it jingled suggestively. “I have a whistle for them right here in my pouch, I’m sure they’d be thrilled to meet you.”
Every hair on the fox’s body stood on end, its free tails flaring into a quivery, soft fan of which Nie Huaisang would have certainly been covetous.
“Of course, I don’t have to call them. They’ve been fed already, they’re likely asleep on the young master’s bed and won’t take kindly to being woken. If you’re prepared to behave yourself, we could just have a conversation instead.”
The fox stared up at Meng Yao, silver eyes flicking between his face and the qiankun pouch, and then lowered its head and muttered, sulkily, “What does the young master desire of this humble fox?”
“If I step off of your tail, will you run?”
A snort. “Not if you’re going to set dogs on me. Although I was under the impression that the Nie Sect disdained the use of spirit hounds.”
“They do. These aren’t spirit dogs, they’re pets. Young Master Nie adores them. And I assure you, spirit hounds or not, they bite very hard. They’d be happy to make a meal of one skinny fox if I called them.”
“ Skinny —I'm a very well-fed fox, thank you.”
“Hm. I’m going to move my foot now, and you’re going to stay right where you are.”
Still sulking, the fox dipped its head, and stayed obediently put when Meng Yao stepped off its tail. “This humble fox hears and obeys.”
“Very good.” Meng Yao considered for a moment. “Now, you must have at least the one human form, if you’re sneaking around a cultivation sect trying to steal qi.”
“Two.” The fox sounded miffed. “Do I look like an infant to you? ‘At least one,’ fah. ”
“Turn back into a human so we can talk.”
“I’ll be naked, you know. Does the young master want to be seen in conversation with a naked woman right in the courtyard like this?”
“Hm. Good point. I assume you can reduce your tails when necessary?”
Offended sniffing, and then the bulk of the fox’s tails simply vanished, leaving it looking like an entirely ordinary, if still alarmed, fox spirit. “Does this please the young ma—hey, hey, what are we doing now?”
Calmly, Meng Yao scooped the fox up from the ground and cradled it to his chest in the same way that he might hold a tired infant. “Keep quiet,” he murmured into the flicking ear next to his face, and then began to head back to the private chambers he’d been given within shouting distance of Mingjue's.
He was, as expected, stopped after not too long by a soldier on night guard. The soldier frowned, frowned further when he saw who it was he’d come upon, and said, without courtesy, “What are you doing wandering around this late?”
“Young Master Nie complained of a noise keeping him up, and when I went out to investigate I found this injured fox.” Meng Yao bounced the fox in his arms, very gently, ignoring the irritated grumbling noise it made. “I was going to treat it and set it free near the kitchens and food stores, the cooks have been complaining of vermin recently.”
The soldier’s face actually softened slightly. “A fox, is it? I’ve always liked foxes.” A shrug. “Carry on, then.”
“Thank you,” Meng Yao murmured, and waited until he was out of earshot to mutter, “Arrogant little windbag.”
“Aren’t most soldiers?” The fox snickered in his ear. “I’ve never liked them much as people. Wonderful snacks, though.”
Meng Yao ignored it and continued down the hall.
Once they were back in his private room with the door shut, he set the fox down on the rug and said, “Well? Change.”
The fox shot him an irritated look and shook itself, and there was, suddenly, a very beautiful, very nude woman sitting on the rug. In proper light he could see that she had blood-red lips and very long hair, which spilled over her breasts and down past her waist in a pale approximation of modesty. She looked up at him, eyes still silver, and beckoned. “Does it please the young master? Would he like this humble fox to stand and display herself further?”
Meng Yao just stared at her, schooling his face to a careful lack of reaction, because he was fairly sure that if he started laughing then it wouldn’t get them anywhere. “I grew up in a brothel, if you’re trying to impress me it’s not going to work. Show me the other one.”
The fox made a little hmph noise, nose wrinkling, and then shook again, and in the place of the nude woman there was a nude man, similarly luscious-mouthed and beautiful, modesty similarly under-guarded by the fall of his hair. Another coy look up, another outstretched hand. “Is this form more pleasing to the young master, then?”
“It’s passable.”
“Passable—”
“Do you have a name?”
An annoyed huff. “What would a fox do with a name, stupi—”
The advantage of talking to a human form over the fox one, Meng Yao thought absently, was that humans were as a general rule much harder to kill than foxes. If he’d grabbed a fox’s throat like this, he might have accidentally crushed its windpipe or snapped its neck. A human throat was more resilient. “Please don’t call me stupid,” he said, as politely as ever, feeling the fox’s pulse race against the palm of his hand. “There are much more creative insults you could use, I’m sure. Anyway, I’m going to give you a name, you’ll need to give me a moment to think of one, and then you’re going to do everything I tell you to do.”
The fox wheezed for a moment before managing to get out, “You're mean, I'm kind of impressed. What do I get out of this?”
“Regular meals, a safe place to sleep, and as much qi as you like. At wise intervals, of course.”
“Oh.” The fox’s silver eyes lit up, and in return Meng Yao loosened his grip enough to make speech a bit easier. “Well, why didn’t you say that before? Give your humble fox a name and he will be honored to serve you.”
Meng Yao nodded, letting go of the fox’s throat and allowing him to sit back down on the rug. “Hm…Wei Ying should do. And when you wear your fur, you can just be Ying.” He patted the newly-named Wei Ying on top of the head, ignoring the irritated wrinkle of his nose. “I always did want a pet as a child.”
When he was summoned the next morning, Wei Ying went with him, draped around his neck like a scarf and putting on a convincing show of exhaustion despite having slept very well curled up on the end of Meng Yao’s bed and eaten a truly massive quantity of kitchen scraps. Nie Mingjue was in conference with several guest cultivators when Meng Yao entered the room, and when he noticed the fox, his eyebrows drew down. “Meng Yao, what is that?”
Meng Yao bowed, keeping his head carefully lowered. “It’s a fox, Sect Leader.”
Meng Yao and Wei Ying. Illustration by pixie_rings (AO3) / materassassino (Tumblr)
“I can see that, why are you carrying it?”
“It chased a rat into the compound last night and then collapsed.” He gestured to the delicate white bandage wrapped around one of its forelegs. “The intent was to release it this morning, after it had gotten some rest, but it refused to go. It climbed onto me itself.”
“Looks pretty clean for a wild animal.”
“This one bathed it, Sect Leader.”
Mingjue looked as if he was going to be irritated, but one of the guest cultivators, a gray-haired Daoshi with whisk in hand, was smiling. “Care for animals is an admirable quality.”
Despite this sign of approval from a senior, Nie Mingjue still seemed ready to argue. Meng Yao listened closely, heard approaching footsteps that he recognized, and didn’t lift his head. “If the animal displeases you, Sect Leader, this humble one will–”
“Da-ge, honored guests, I apologize for being so late– ohh, is that a live fox? ”
Meng Yao allowed himself a faint smile, turning to bow again to Nie Huaisang. “Indeed, Young Master.”
He didn’t even have the chance to stand up before Huaisang was at his side, eyes wide with obvious delight. “It’s sitting on you, is it tame? Will it let itself be touched? Can I pet it?"
The fox made an irritated noise, but submitted to Huaisang’s petting, and after a moment began to rumble in obvious contentment as his ears were scratched. Mingjue pinched the bridge of his nose. “The fox can stay as long as it’s not underfoot. Anyway, as we were discussing–”
At the end of the meeting, Huaisang came over to pet Wei Ying again, and Meng Yao smiled more genuinely and said, softly, “If Young Master Nie desires animal companionship, I believe the wife of one of the merchants in Yueyang has a lion dog which recently whelped. Would the young master like me to inquire about puppies?”
Huaisang let out a thrilled squeak. “Oh, puppies! I would love that, I’m sure Da-ge won’t mind as long as they’re not being used in cultivation practice.”
Wei Ying turned on Meng Yao’s shoulder and glared at him, looking betrayed. As soon as they were alone, he hissed, "You liar. You said he already had dogs."
"I was going to get him the puppies anyway. I like Young Master Nie, and keeping him amused is valuable." The corner of Meng Yao's mouth curled. "You just gave me an excuse to bring it up."
The puppies arrived a week later, two yipping, rambunctious balls of fur which Huaisang promptly named Xiaoxiao and Baobei, and proceeded to ingratiate themselves with the entire sect, Mingjue included. The only one who seemed to dislike them at all was Meng Yao's now ever-present tame fox, which was unfortunate, because they adored him.
"They insist on calling me gege ," Wei Ying grumbled one evening, stretched out human and nude across the end of Meng Yao's bed. "They think I'm their friend. "
"Mm." Meng Yao didn't look up from the reports he was studying. Nie Mingjue had chosen to accompany some of the disciples on a night hunt; he would not have time in the morning to read them himself, and would need to be briefed. "How is your appetite for qi at the moment?"
Wei Ying perked up immediately. "I could eat."
"Good. I'd like to test a hypothesis."
The night hunt was successful, but not without tragedy. Nie Mingjue returned to the Unclean Realm carrying the body of Nie Gang, who had been waylaid by a qi-stealer and thus been unable to defend himself when he was set upon by ghouls.
The sect mourned. Meng Yao's tame fox napped contentedly. And Meng Yao, who had for as long as he could remember maintained a silent registry of every insult and slight he'd ever borne, calmly ticked a name off that mental list and declared his experiment a success.
Later, though, unable to entirely restrain his curiosity, he turned away from the evening’s documents to the persistently naked man lounging on his bed and said, “Does it have a flavor?”
Wei Ying blinked slowly at him. “Does what have a flavor, young master?”
“Qi. Does it have a distinct flavor, from cultivator to cultivator.”
“Mm. That’s an interesting question. Not one I’ve gotten before. In a sense it does, yes.” Wei Ying licked his long canines, smiling, and dragged a hand down his bare chest invitingly. “If the young master would like to come over here, this humble fox would be happy to share a taste.”
Meng Yao’s eyebrows rose. “I suppose I should have expected lewd suggestions from a fox."
Wei Ying licked his teeth again, tongue lolling out in a silent laugh that was far more unnerving on a human face than a fox’s. “Maybe you should have, young master. After all, I have the reputation of all foxes to uphold.”