Chapter Text
“I know why you came to Qinghe. I’ve known for a while now.”
“Of course you do. Why else would one come to Qinghe Nie, other than to train under a respectable Sect?” Shu Yao challenges, forcing a meagre facsimile of her usual calm. If Huaisang wants to trick her into admitting anything, he won’t succeed. Her mind keeps replaying his words to Baxia, said so matter-of-factly as if it weren’t a secret she had sworn to take to the grave.
Huaisang smiles at her, “I’ll admit that a fair bit of it is guesswork. Will you let me confirm some facts first, jiejie?”
Some part of Shu Yao already knows that it is futile to hide anymore. She knows what she looks like, knows exactly what the Sect thinks of her quick promotion to Head Administrator. She most certainly hasn’t been deaf to the gossip that goes around.
“You were a prostitute back in Yunping. You are Sect Leader Jin’s daughter. You met him just before you came to Qinghe, and he proved just how much of a waste of space he is.” Huaisang lists out. The timid, spineless mask of his is nowhere to be found. Slate grey eyes watch her, focused and steady, and Shu Yao admits defeat, fingers unclenching from fists beginning to shake. She lets Huaisang lead her to the bed, and automatically brings her arms up to cradle the pup he deposits on her lap.
“My Da-ge tried, but once our father passed he was too busy running the Sect.” Shu Yao blinks at the abrupt non-sequitur. She knows this already. “My aunts raised me not as Sect heir like they should have, but as my brother’s second instead. His future spymaster. And I think you agree with me that it is…convenient, to be dismissed and underestimated. You played a critical role in building my network. Though I doubt you expected it to yield information on you.”
Shu Yao can’t help the wry twitch of her lips at that. “So I guessed. An oversight on my part, to not realise word had spread so far.” The minuscule smile fades. “My mother had long ago taught me a woman’s beauty is her armour, and courtesy is her weapon. But what use is beauty when it invites advances from him, and what use is courtesy in the face of committing taboo?”
The former prostitute huffs out a mirthless laugh. “You must have heard many things, but did you know that when he laid eyes on me for the first time, he raked his eyes down my body , and only saw how I could please him in bed. The man my mother always told me would love me for my clever mind turned out to be exactly like how the rumours make him out to be. A spineless, wife-fearing womaniser,” she hisses angrily.
“He bribed the Madame of the brothel to keep it quiet. But word got out despite that, or perhaps because of that.” Huaisang informs her quietly.
Shu Yao snorts at further proof of her sperm donor’s pathetic fear of his wife. “Of course he did. I won’t be surprised if the entirety of Lanling Jin knows. There were other cultivators with him that night. Why did you think I came all the way here? Yunmeng Jiang doesn’t care much for the background of their disciples, but the Purple Spider would never allow a living, breathing insult to Madame Jin in her domain.”
“I surmised as much, jiejie. I cannot guarantee you won’t cross paths with Sect Leader Jin in the future, but the promise I made you when you first came to Qinghe still stands, Yao-jie.” Huaisang holds her gaze, sincerity lacing his words.
After a long moment, Shu Yao nods hesitantly, and the tension in the room eases. The next breath she takes comes easily as if a weight had been lifted off her chest. They sit in comfortable silence for a while, until Baxia grows tired of sitting still and trots off to explore the room.
“Why won’t you let me listen to you practice the flute, jiejie?” Huaisang breaks the silence cautiously.
“…If there is one thing I cannot do, Huaisang, it’s playing the flute,” Shu Yao reddens in embarrassment. “If I didn’t activate the silencing talismans, I’m certain it would have aggravated all the sabre spirits into murdering me. But it’s the only instrument I have, that I have some experience playing, so it’ll have to do.”
Huaisang giggles at the unexpectedly silly reason, “I guess I have to thank you for saving my ears then, Yao-jie.” He pauses, as if in deep thought, before turning to face her properly.
“Do you want to learn the er-hu instead? My mother used to play, and she taught me before she passed. A string instrument might suit you better, though Gusu Lan will likely only teach the guqin.”
Shu Yao inhales sharply at the offer. A weighted silence falls upon the room again, for both occupants recognise the offer for what it truly is.
“I would be most honoured, Huaisang.” Shu Yao bows deeply and stays until a pair of hands lift her into a warm embrace. She stiffens in surprise, then relaxes into the first hug she’s been given after her mother had passed.
“Thank you, A-Sang.”
The young master says nothing, only tightening his arms around his first friend - the one person who wasn’t family that had looked and seen fluttering fans hiding a spine of steel that had been ruthlessly trained into him. The only one who could match him move for move effortlessly in long games of xiangqi and with whom he could engage in long debates on literature, who was his peer in a battle of wits.
Huaisang loves his brother, but they operate on opposing wavelengths, making communication and mutual understanding an arduous challenge that they sometimes tire of. Especially so in recent years. In Sect matters, Nie Mingjue would insist that as next-in-line Huaisang should be participating actively with regards to internal affairs, but often the brothers would find themselves in heated arguments as Nie Mingjue disapproved of handling matters in any way he deemed to be unrighteous.
When Yao-jie was promoted to Head Administrator, Huaisang finally had someone who could understand, who could read between the lines and work with him. Between both of them, they had convinced Nie Mingjue to divert funds to training disciples in espionage again, as that particular discipline had stagnated when their father had passed. Nie Mingjue left Huaisang in charge of the endeavour, not wholly approving the underhanded means that would be involved in spying but recognising its utility anyway.
Qinghe Nie’s new Spymaster began his tenure by cleaning house. The first year, all staff and disciples in the Unclean Realm were vetted thoroughly to ensure the fortress remained in loyal hands. Those he deemed untrustworthy were dismissed or delegated to more distant territories. Connections made from his regular visits to the markets formed the immediate links to a steadily growing network of eyes and ears. Information was passed on in casual conversation as the Young Master browsed the various stalls. It had been on these ventures into town that Huaisang had collected enough whispers to assemble the barebones of Yao-jie’s story, that led them to have this long-awaited conversation.
The Spymaster of QingHe Nie and her Head Administrator now finally stand on equal ground, with a common understanding as neither of them no longer has anything to hide from the other.
—
Following that night, the months leading to their stint in Cloud Recesses passed terrifyingly quickly. Shu Yao indeed grasped the er-hu far more competently than she did the flute, and Lan Qiren had seemed impressed with her theoretical foundation despite her low cultivation. Qingshuang, lightweight and deadly sharp, had been a delight to bond and train with. Nie Jieying had beaten the standard forms into her mercilessly until Shu Yao could perform them in her sleep, and her sweaty efforts had not been wasted. The acceptance scroll, sealed securely with the personal emblem of Sect Leader Lan Xichen, arrived a week after her evaluation with the Old Master.
Shu Yao had celebrated by triumphantly barging into the Sect Leader’s office and shoving the scroll in his face before dragging both him and Huaisang out to the training courtyard to finally deliver the beating she’d promised the day he’d given her those impossible orders. The look of surprise on Nie Mingjue’s face when his little brother and pint-sized administrator teamed up to duel him together had been immensely satisfying. Afterwards, the approval in her Sect Leader’s gaze when they had lasted longer than he’d expected had brought a proud smile to her face, and a curious warmth in her chest.
In the pitiful remnants of Shu Yao’s spare time, the Head Administrator privately sought out an audience with the two aunts who had raised Huaisang. It had been Nie Rui and Nie Wei who had ensured QingHe Nie stayed standing as one of the Great Five after the previous Sect Leader had died under the hands of Wen Ruohan, back when Nie Mingjue had still been inexperienced in managing Sect matters. Both had vanished from the public eye the moment they deemed him ready, only extending their influence from the shadows when needed. Shu Yao had spent a fortnight searching for them, alone, as Huaisang had been decidedly unhelpful.
“To track them down is a test in itself”, the Young Master said with a broad grin.
Shu Yao finally slipped into the hidden door cleverly concealed below the throne in the main hall, after having retrieved and aligned three brushes, thin but suspiciously heavy, on the pressure-sensitive grooves on the Sect Leader’s table in the correct order and orientation. The lock clicked, and Shu Yao had to scramble away as the door swung down to reveal a vertical drop to a replica of the main hall, covered from ceiling to floor with talismans ensuring privacy. It was very clear, after Shu Yao had hopped down and offered a bow to Nie Rui and Nie Wei, that they had been waiting for her. They levelled her with appraising stares that Shu Yao met unafraid even on her knees. Head held high, she sat through the interrogation for hours until the calculating women were convinced of her loyalty and finally acquiesced.
The entirety of her nights from then were devoted to refining her manners and etiquette, sharpening her skills with a variety of hidden weapons, and learning to weaponise bureaucracy. Shu Yao is particularly appreciative of the latter, as Nie Mingjue had taken to fleeing whenever he spots her approaching with a stack of papers in hand once the evaluation was over.
Nie Rui makes her learn her way around the Unclean Realm again, has her memorise the hidden paths and the sigils camouflaged into stone pillars until she can make her way through the fortress out of sight even when blindfolded. Nie Wei teaches her a separate set of hand signs used for communication and trains her to use her qi to manipulate others.
At the end of the first month, Shu Yao grows accustomed to being armed at all hours of the day and maintaining constant vigilance of her surroundings. Her spiritual energy automatically extends out to lightly blanket her immediate location even as she sleeps.
Three days before she has to leave for the Cloud Recesses, Nie Rui bids her farewell with a gift and a stern reminder that lessons will continue when she returns. A disassembled soft blade of her own is presented to her in the same hidden hall Shu Yao first called them Teacher. The body of the blade is short, barely the length of her forearm, and dyed matte forest green to mask the sheen of a blade. The hilt is made of the same water-resistant, flexible material, blunted and a plain black, to be worn around her neck disguised as a necklace. The tassel is modified to fit the ruse - an appropriately sized Nie Sect emblem that sits prettily in the dips of Shu Yao’s collarbone. There is no scabbard, for she is meant to wear the blade on her at all times. It is a cold and spiritually dormant - a spy's weapon, designed to remain untouched by qi .
Nie Wei offers her a crown for her last molar, to be cracked with a qi -laced snap of a jaw to release a lethal dosage of belladonna. For a quick death, should she ever require it. Shu Yao accepts it grimly, recalling the disturbing rumours circulating the cultivation world about Qishan Wen and their power-hungry Sect Leader.
They are sent off at the gate by Nie Mingjue, Qingshuang hanging on her waist with her sabre strapped to her back. On the outside, she looks every bit the proper yet harmless administrator - a polite, dimpled smile ever-present on her face projecting a genteel air complemented by neatly pressed robes with a carved wooden box containing her brushes and ink slabs hanging to the right on her waist. The only sign that she was a cultivator was Qingshuang hanging on her waist with her sabre strapped to her back.
Unseen to others, however, Shu Yao has rows of needles strapped to the sleeves of her modified inner robes, chastity daggers (she’d laughed until she cried in private when Nie Mingjue had gifted them to her on her last birthday) concealed in each of her boots, and the yet unnamed soft blade disguised as a decorative bracelet wrapped around her left wrist. Her hair, worn in a long, undecorated fishtail braid swept into a bun using a sharpened jade hair stick, exposes the black hilt around her neck.
Huaisang had given into several bouts of giggles ever since he’d spotted her this morning. Honestly, as if the Young Master himself hadn’t crafted a near-impenetrable mask himself.
When their Sect Leader finally ends his nagging, she and Huaisang bow in farewell, straightening together and turning away to head for Gusu on horseback with their retinue.