My Cloud and My Lotus

Chapter 2: Bittersweet

Note: This might be cringed so please bare with me🤧.

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At exactly five in the morning, Jiang Cheng was already awake and dressed. He glanced across the room at his brother, still snoring peacefully. With an exasperated sigh, he marched over, grabbed Wei Wuxian by the leg, and yanked him right out of bed.

Wei Wuxian hit the floor with a thud.
"An earthquake?!" he shouted, eyes wide.

"No, idiot. It's time to get up-we still have class." Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed.

Wei Wuxian only grinned, cheeky as ever, which earned him yet another glare from his already frowning brother.

The ceremony of introductions had begun, each young master presenting a token of gratitude for the privilege of studying at Cloud Recesses. When it was Nie Huaisang's turn, Meng Yao stepped forward in his place, carrying a lacquered box that held a precious porcelain bowl.

A ripple of laughter spread through the hall, whispers darting like shadows.
"The son of a courtesan..."
"How could the Nie sect take him in?"

Meng Yao's hands tightened around the box, knuckles pale, though his expression remained carefully composed. Nie Huaisang spoke lightly, undeterred, guiding the moment forward.

It was Lan Xichen who rose to accept the gift. With steady grace, he took the box from Meng Yao's grasp, their fingers brushing ever so slightly. His pinky lingered, a subtle reassurance. Meng Yao's dimples deepened as he gave a small smile-grateful, unspoken, fleeting.

From the crowd, Jiang Cheng's jaw tightened. His hand curled around the hem of his robe, fabric wrinkling beneath his grip. Beside him, Wei Wuxian noticed, eyes narrowing with faint amusement.

When Jiang Cheng's turn came, Lan Xichen did not even glance his way. An attendant received his offering instead, setting it neatly with the others. The slight, though unspoken, cut deeper than he cared to admit.

After the class was dismissed, Nie Huaisang fanned himself nervously, sensing the tension that radiated from Jiang Cheng.
"Jiang-xiong... are you all right?" he asked, hesitant.

Wei Wuxian, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned in with a sly grin.
"Well~ perhaps Zewu-jun doesn't see him the way you hoped. Who knows, maybe that marriage arrangement won't hold if you two barely exchange words..."

Jiang Cheng's face darkened, his hand tightening until his knuckles ached.
"What do you mean by that?!" he snapped, anger breaking through the restraint.

"You saw it yourself," Wei Wuxian teased, whistling as he darted away, "the way they look at each other-like no one else exists."

Jiang Cheng gave chase, fury chasing down the edges of his composure, Nie Huaisang hurrying anxiously after them.

They collided beneath the shadow of a great tree, nearly stumbling over one another. Wei Wuxian stopped short, eyes widening at the sight before him. Shock lit his face as he spun around, arms outstretched to keep the others from seeing.

"Let's... go back, A-Cheng, Nie-xiong," Wei Wuxian urged, his voice suddenly uneasy.

But Jiang Cheng pulled free, determination flaring sharper than caution. His eyes found the scene hidden beyond-and widened, not with anger alone, but something deeper. Something that burned, sharp and bitter, beneath his ribs.

Wei Wuxian's fingers tightened around Jiang Cheng's sleeve, pulling him back with a force that belied the smile he usually wore. His expression this time was different-his eyes lowered, his voice quiet, stripped of its usual mischief.

"Enough, A-Cheng."

Jiang Cheng's steps faltered, but his body strained forward, his gaze burning to see what lay just beyond. Wei Wuxian knew. He knew all too well what his brother would find there, and he could not-would not-let him see it. Not when the truth would carve him open more cruelly than any blade.

"Don't," Wei Wuxian whispered, almost pleading now. "You'll only hurt yourself."

For once, Jiang Cheng said nothing. His jaw was clenched, lips pressed so tightly together they had gone pale. The tendons in his neck stood taut, his shoulders trembling under the weight of restraint. His eyes, dark and heavy, brimmed with a storm that had nowhere to go-too proud to cry, too furious to speak.

Wei Wuxian's heart twisted painfully in his chest. He had teased, yes. He had laughed, yes. But this... this was different. To see his brother like this, so close to breaking-it tore at him in ways he could not voice. He pulled Jiang Cheng closer, almost as if shielding him from the world, though he knew it was a fragile protection at best.

Nie Huaisang rushed over, his fan trembling in his hand, pale face marked with unease. He hovered at their side, trying to offer some measure of comfort, though even he understood his words would fall useless.

"A-Cheng..." Wei Wuxian said again, softer this time, almost like an older brother though he never truly was. "You don't need to see it. Knowing is already enough."

Jiang Cheng turned his face away, his breathing uneven. His hand clenched tightly at his robes, fabric wrinkling under his grip. Though he did not speak, though he forced the anger back behind his teeth, Wei Wuxian could see it-the ache buried beneath, sharp and bitter, a wound that would fester long after this day.

And in that moment, it was not the sight beyond the tree that hurt most. It was the silence, heavy and suffocating, of a brother who held his pain so tightly that not even family could touch it.