His voice is soft, wistful for days gone by, and Jiang Cheng finds himself reaching out, his hand heavy on Nie Huaisang’s thin shoulder. Nie Huaisang looks at him, eyes wide in sincere surprise, which gives way to a smile so wide it crinkles the corners of his eyes, so real and beautiful. The way he had in Gusu, wet hair stuck to pale skin, eyes honey-gold under the summer sun; before his brother’s death, before Sect Leader Nie, when they were only Jiang-xiong and Huaisang-xiong, when it was all so simple – Jiang Cheng's requirements in a partner.

Lan Xichen’s hands were shaking, hidden in his sleeves, and his mouth kept opening and closing, trying to find something to say. “A-Yao,” he finally forced out through numb lips. “A-Yao, you swore an oath.” Jin Guangyao blinked, then laughed. “I swore many oaths,” he said. “Which one are you referring to?"

chengxian thought: turnip sales aren't cutting it, so wwx freelances out of a yiling brothel. jc, blowing off steam on one of his periodic trips to check up on him, asks for whatever the madam recommends and, welp, there's his brother. jc writes this off as a charitable donation. I did not intend to put any further thought into this but just like, the idea of the moments where wwx is still laughing off the coincidence and jc has already decided to go through with it, to insist, and wwx slowly slowly gets there