Part 25 – The Color of Love

What was probably the highest point in Nie Huaisang’s sparring career was undoubtedly Wei Wuxian’s lowest. Though the sect leader’s parries were sloppy at best, his golden core lent his spirit saber unnatural strength. It wasn’t long before Wei Wuxian was winded and trembling like a leaf, driven back farther and farther with each successive clash. After yet another failed attempt to produce more than a feeble sputter of sword-glare, the great Yiling Patriarch fell face-first into the dirt. Exhausted, he lay there, panting and sweating. When an inquisitive sparrow hopped over to tug at his limp red hair ribbon, Wei Wuxian waved the bird weakly away with a groan.

“Perhaps we should call it a day,” Nie Huaisang said uncertainly.

Wei Wuxian grit his teeth. Any excuse to weasel out of it, eh, Huaisang? With Suibian II in hand, Wei Wuxian struggled back up to his feet. He glared ahead, more determined than ever.

“I’ll produce a sword-glare today, even if it kills me!”

Nie Huaisang’s worried look said quite clearly, It might. But raising his saber, he faced off against Wei Wuxian nevertheless. The Nie clan leader really only needed to keep his glowing blade held level before him, as Wei Wuxian charged at him like a child swinging a stick. No matter the angle he tried, he couldn’t land a solid hit. Even Nie Huaisang’s paltry defenses were simply too strong.

“GODDAMNIT!” Wei Wuxian yelled, beyond incensed at this point. Raising Suibian II’s shiny blade before him, he shook the hilt like he wanted to strangle it. “What’s it going to take?!”

“Longer than a day, I think,” Nie Huaisang offered mildly.

“No! No. Today it is, or Hanguang-Jun is done with me,” he said, forcing himself to believe it as Nie Huaisang arched an incredulous brow. “A sword-glare today, or he’s leaving me for a fitter man!!”

“Wei-xiong, is that really—”

But Wei Wuxian was already rushing at him. His eyes narrowed upon Nie Huaisang, his present foe. Taking in the elegant lines of the sect leader’s handsome face, it wasn’t too hard to imagine him as a romantic rival. From there it was only a short mental leapt to make Lan Wangji the object of their duel, and then to paint Nie Huaisang as his mortal enemy.

The sect leader’s face paled as Wei Wuxian closed in on him in a red haze of fabricated rage. Wei Wuxian snarled, swinging. A bright streak of sword-glare flared from Suibian II. It met Nie Huaisang’s raised saber in a blinding arc that sent him stumbling back a step. Wei Wuxian gaped at the color of the fading glare.

“Blue?!” he exclaimed, laughing shortly in surprise. “What, but it was always red before!”

“…Interesting,” Nie Huaisang said, recovering. He peered at Wei Wuxian as though he were a fascinating new addition to his menagerie. “I’ve read that it’s possible for one’s sword glare to change, but I’ve never witnessed it firsthand.”

“Blue,” Wei Wuxian said again, musing aloud. “Just like Bichen! Truly, Hanguang-Jun has possessed me body and soul. Hahahaha!”

“So it would seem…” Nie Huaisang said, twitching a smile back. “But, Wei-xiong, how did you manage it so suddenly? You were struggling so futilely before.”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth twisted in chagrin. “To tell you the truth, Nie Huaisang, I imagined that you and I were vying for Hanguang-Jun’s affections.”

“Ah…”

Sweat shimmered on Nie Huaisang’s fair brow. Daintily, he dabbed at it with a silk kerchief. Wei Wuxian smiled crookedly.

“Sorry,” he said, “I realize it’s rather offensive.”

Nie Huaisang blinked. “Offensive?”

“Well,” Wei Wuxian hedged, scratching at his ear, “to insinuate that you prefer men.”

Nie Huaisang tucked his kerchief away, his own smile crooked. “But I do.”

Mo Dao Zu Shi © Mo Xiang Tong Xiu