WIP Wednesday Snippet
Sep. 2nd, 2020 07:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rhysianaAs I don't fandom on Twitter, I'll put this WIP Wednesday snippet here. I have been writing, sporadically and jumping back and forth between about 5 different things (variously for Untamed and Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty), but I'll take what I can get at this point.
This fic appears to be shaping itself into some post-canon Sangcheng, in which NHS has had it:
This fic appears to be shaping itself into some post-canon Sangcheng, in which NHS has had it:
Discussion conferences hadn’t gotten any less insufferable over the years, in Jiang Cheng’s opinion. This year there was more gossip, thanks to the revelations at Guanyin Temple, though no one who was actually there had been in any hurry to confirm or deny any of the dozens of preposterous stories about that night that Jiang Cheng had heard swirling around them during breaks between sessions, but ultimately everything was still the same. The same boring speeches, the same pointless debates, the same people objecting to things just to inflate their own importance.
Which was, of course, what was happening right now. Jiang Cheng had presented (succinctly, thank you very much) his proposal for greater inter-sect cooperation for fighting water ghouls along major rivers, given the way they traveled along the waterways with no regard for whose territory they were in, and now Sect Leader Yao was standing to make a completely useless rebuttal. Apparently he hadn’t even noticed Sect Leader Ouyang, his usual compatriot, frowning at him in annoyance; Baling Ouyang bordered Yunmeng Jiang and dealt with this exact problem just as often.
Jiang Cheng sighed deeply and settled in to wait out the bloviating. It never did any good to interrupt; he’d learned that years ago.
“Yao-zongzhu,” snapped a voice flatly from down the hall, though, and Jiang Cheng was so startled he leaned forward to see who it was. But no, his ears hadn’t deceived him. It really was Nie Huaisang, voice completely devoid of the helpless whine they’d all become used to over the years. Furthermore, his fan was closed, held in one hand on the table in front of him more like a weapon in waiting than an affectation. The expression on his face, fully visible for once, was not amused. “Don’t you think it’s past time for you to stop attempting to treat the younger sect leaders like children? It has been sixteen years since Jiang-zongzhu and my brother helped win the war your generation started and then failed to end. Or have you lost track of the passage of the years? I hear that sometimes happens with age.”
Sect Leader Yao stood where he was, mouth open but no sound emerging. For perhaps the first time in his whole life, Jiang Cheng sympathized with the man.
Which was, of course, what was happening right now. Jiang Cheng had presented (succinctly, thank you very much) his proposal for greater inter-sect cooperation for fighting water ghouls along major rivers, given the way they traveled along the waterways with no regard for whose territory they were in, and now Sect Leader Yao was standing to make a completely useless rebuttal. Apparently he hadn’t even noticed Sect Leader Ouyang, his usual compatriot, frowning at him in annoyance; Baling Ouyang bordered Yunmeng Jiang and dealt with this exact problem just as often.
Jiang Cheng sighed deeply and settled in to wait out the bloviating. It never did any good to interrupt; he’d learned that years ago.
“Yao-zongzhu,” snapped a voice flatly from down the hall, though, and Jiang Cheng was so startled he leaned forward to see who it was. But no, his ears hadn’t deceived him. It really was Nie Huaisang, voice completely devoid of the helpless whine they’d all become used to over the years. Furthermore, his fan was closed, held in one hand on the table in front of him more like a weapon in waiting than an affectation. The expression on his face, fully visible for once, was not amused. “Don’t you think it’s past time for you to stop attempting to treat the younger sect leaders like children? It has been sixteen years since Jiang-zongzhu and my brother helped win the war your generation started and then failed to end. Or have you lost track of the passage of the years? I hear that sometimes happens with age.”
Sect Leader Yao stood where he was, mouth open but no sound emerging. For perhaps the first time in his whole life, Jiang Cheng sympathized with the man.
