Grab Him By The Hilt

Hook, line, and sinker.

Already, Meng Yao could tell Lan Xichen wasn't going to buy his little white lies about getting enough sleep and feeling well. The older man's gaze was docile as usual, but also persistent. He was waiting until he finished pouring his tea to press him further-- Meng Yao could predict him like this. 

"A-Yao." 

Meng Yao slipped his eyes shut with a soft inhale when Lan Xichen spoke his name. He sat down across from him and picked up his own cup for a meager sip. 

"If Da-Ge is working you too hard, I can speak with him. But pretending as if nothing is wrong.. won't do. Sleep is essential for energy healing." Lan Xichen creased his brows in worry, and Meng Yao found himself feeling guilty. He quite liked how he wore concern… Lan Xichen was really the only one that fussed over him like this. And despite his humility, Meng Yao would never complain. 

"Zewu-Jun, it's not your responsibility to talk to him.. I appreciate your offer, but I also understand why Da-ge's been extra tense lately. It gets particularly worse after any conference of any kind." He explained, watching as one of his own hands casually slid across the table to meet one of Lan Xichen's. Meng Yao lightly traced in between his knuckles, distantly wishing he had fingers that were just as long and graceful. 

Lan Xichen's expression grew alert, and his eyes followed every languid movement of Meng Yao's tracing. He cleared his throat gently before responding with an aerated chuckle. 

"A-Yao.. is that really the only reason? Or have you been attempting tricks like these on him..?" 

Meng Yao's self-assured expression wilted into a slight pout, and he folded his other arm across the table to plop his forehead against it. 

"Xichen-ge…. He's like a steel wall. I'm starting to think there's nothing between his legs at all. How do you do it? You promised you'd tell me if I couldn't figure it out." Meng Yao's voice was a muffled, boyish whine-- something he knew made Lan Xichen weak in the knees. 

Lan Xichen looked delighted by his admittance, and wasted no time in placing his palm upon Meng Yao's head. 

"Da-ge has the willpower of a thousand armies if he can resist A-Yao's charm. But there's no need to pout. Here, look at me.." 

Lan Xichen smoothed his fingertips from Meng Yao's chestnut-colored locks, down to follow the natural curvature of his jaw. He lightly tilted his chin upwards, and Meng Yao allowed it. It was the most affection he'd been shown in weeks. Meng Yao enjoyed living life on the edge within Qinghe-Nie and all, but Nie Mingjue was all work and no play. And as seriously as Meng Yao took his role as a tactical deputy, and a maid… with as much cleaning and organizing he did-- he was still young and vivacious. 

So, every two weeks, Lan Xichen visited. And every time, they sat outside within the west pavilion. It was the one closest to the Nie training grounds, so Nie Mingjue could join if he so pleased. 

Lan Xichen briefly took in their surroundings, to ensure they were completely alone, before leaning in. 

"Have you caught wind of something referred to as 'The Saber Tuning Ritual'?"  Lan Xichen murmured, his soothing deep voice reverberating between them. Meng Yao blinked a few times, before folding both of his arms and leaning in as far as his waist would allow. 

"Tuning Ritual..?" He repeated. 

"Isn't that just where Nie cultivators enter a meditative state and polish their sabers? Or something akin to that… they all do it at night, I've heard a few juniors here bring it up once or twice." 

Lan Xichen hooded his eyes, and he took his time in taking another sip of tea before responding. 

"Well, meditation is involved. And it is a process of polishing and sharpening the saber. There's the soul of a feral beast within each blade, and this ancient Nie clan ritual allows both the cultivator's qi and the beast spirit to become one. So…."