#TWTLAL AU

[satonthelotuspier]

There Are Two Ways To Live A Life

“There are two ways to live a life either forget everything or, remember nothing.” - Santosh Kalwar.

Jamais vu: From the French, meaning "never seen". The illusion that the familiar does not seem familiar.

We have only one person to thank for this (again) - Dee - @BangpurpleTan - this idea is based very strongly on her indescribably brilliant edit here. All Dee's edits are a blessing on the timeline but this one fuelled the plot bunnies immensely.

This fic is endgame Xicheng.

If you follow me on Twt or on AO3 you’ll probably be aware this is already updated to chapter 5 over on AO3 - I’ll post the rest to tumblr over time if there’s any interest.

Chapter 1 -  If Snow Melts Down to Water

“If snow melts down to water, does it still remember being snow?” ― Jennifer McMahon, The Winter People.

He could smell nothing but fire and death; the scent of blood hung in the air; between that, and the smoke, it was almost too thick to breathe, even where the smoke was less thick, here, as he lay on the courtyard floor in front of the great hall, in a pool of blood that was both his own and from the other’s lain slain around him.

It was red flames and redder blood that were the last things he saw before his eyes drifted closed, and everything else faded to black.

Jiang Shao woke suddenly from the nightmare, taking in a deep gasp of air as if he really had been struggling to breathe, suffocated by the smoke from burning buildings.

But a nightmare was all it was, wasn’t it? His hands tightened in the quilt covering him, but he forced them to relax, as his movements woke the sleeping figure at his side.

“Shao-er?”

He tried to force his breathing to steady, and cleared his expression, as he turned it on the now wakened Xue Rong.

“It was just a bad dream. It’s faded now. I’m sorry to wake you.” He sounded normal. Or at least like he’d sound if he was woken from sleep by a normal nightmare.

“I have to leave soon, so it’s fine. You should stay and try to rest a little more though.” A soothing hand squeezed his shoulder, intending to offer comfort.

Jiang Shao nodded, and lay back as Xue Rong rose, threw on his robes, and, with a final goodbye, disappeared into the still-dark morning.

He was glad; it gave him time to consider the thing that bothered him the most about the nightmare; the death of the woman who looked exactly like Jiang Shao.

Could it be that it wasn’t a nightmare, that it was an actual memory trying to surface?

He didn’t know.

In reality he could remember nothing about his childhood. He had no memory of who his parents were, and therefore the figure in his dream could either be formed from a subconscious remembrance, or his dreaming mind making up a maternal figure; what else did he have to go on except his own features?

His earliest memory was waking up in the home of a farming family somewhere near Yiling. A merchant prince passing through had, apparently, stumbled upon him wandering dazed and barely alive in the wilderness, and taken pity on the severely injured young man, paying for the village healer to tend his wounds and the family to board him until he was well enough to leave.

Less honest folk might have seen the opportunity to accept the gold, slit his throat the moment the merchant had moved on, and profited greatly from him; luckily he hadn’t fallen into the hands of dishonest people.

He didn’t know his exact age; the best guess that could be made was he had been in his mid to late teens when found. He didn’t know where he was from; though they claimed his dialect was that of Yunmeng.

When he had healed enough he helped during the harvest season alongside the family’s own sons, as thanks for their kindness, and then left in search of the merchant who he owed his life to; he had no better idea of what he could do than to pledge himself to that man to repay his goodness.

There had been a part of him that hoped the travelling would spark memories; but it hadn’t helped at all.

Once he had caught up with the merchant in Jiuzi, that kind gentleman had again taken pity on him, and had offered him military training, as long as Jiang Shao joined his personal army, and they were both pleased to find out that, though Jiang Shao’s mind didn’t know it, his muscles clearly showed the memory of martial training.

Jiang Shao was thankful that he could be useful, and had found a place in a world he didn’t really know.

A little while into his tenure in the private army of Ye Qingyan he had been part of the forces his master had loaned to join the imperial army to quell an invasion from the northern kingdom. He had recommended himself to the son of the Emperor by saving his life on the battlefield; he had taken a wound that had been meant for Xue Rong, earning his gratitude and thanks.

They had met again some years later. By this time Jiang Shao had undergone training as an assassin and spy for his merchant prince master. Ye Qingyan had rendered some service to the then acknowledged Crown Prince, enabling the two to renew their acquaintance and friendship. Some time later the merchant had elected to step away from court life in the capital and retire to his family estate in a distant province, to focus on his new young wife and the children she would hopefully bear him. A father and a husband had no need for a spymaster and assassin, so Jiang Shao had been ‘gifted’ to Prince Jin, as a final act of service and good regard by Ye Qingyan.

It wasn’t long later when the old emperor’s failing health had put his intended Crown Prince on the throne, and Xue Rong had donned the Dragon Robe.

Now Jiang Shao was the Tianzi’s secret weapon. His hidden blade.

To the court he was passed off as a male lover the Emperor had taken as a young man, who he still occasionally bedded, and appointed to a minor ministry role, which sent him travelling around the empire. A perfect cover for a man often sent from the capital to enact the will of the Emperor in secrecy.

Jiang Shao turned over, and pulled the blankets over his head, trying to calm his swirling thoughts.

Despite Xue Rong’s orders, he didn’t think that he’d be able to sleep again that night; but undeterred by his doubts he did drift off again just before dawn.

***

The moonlight shone through the laden branches overhead, giving the night an ethereal glow, making it feel almost unreal, as they walked along the paths together. No matter how much he tried to give himself the courage to meet the other’s gaze head on, he still couldn’t steal more than quick glances from beneath his lowered lashes.

The other was too handsome. Too perfect. Especially with the moon’s pure gaze limning his jade-like features. It was almost overwhelming to be near someone as gentle and warm as dawn light; and to think that he might like him too.

Overwhelming.

Jiang Shao’s heart had begun to flutter in his chest as the taller boy paused on the pathway, reached up into one of the overhanging bows, and pulled free a sprig of magnolia blossom.

His mouth formed a tender smile, and he held the sprig out to Jiang Shao; who reached for it tentatively. It was all he could do to stop himself from clutching the gift to his chest, and he felt a rush of heat climb up his neck in the still night air.

“Thank you.” The words were barely more than a whisper, as loud and as forceful as he could manage past the lump in his throat.

They walked on a little further, to a cluster of buildings, where Jiang Shao mounted the steps, and the taller boy paused at the foot.

Jiang Shao stopped, and turned.

He felt unutterably sad.

“Tomorrow I’ll have to return home.”

“I know. I’ll miss you. But I’ll wait for you. Forever if I have to, A-Cheng.”

Some of the sadness melted away at his words.

“You will?”

“I will.”

He felt an answering smile shape his mouth, before the other took Jiang Shao’s ( A- Cheng’s?) hands in his own, then, leaning up due to Jiang Shao’ s position on the steps , brushed a gentle kiss against his cheek.

The dream faded, and Jiang Shao woke up plagued by a feeling of indescribable sadness and loss.

He was frustrated that whenever he experienced these unusual dreams, he couldn’t tell whether they were created from his lost memories, or purely formed from nothing at all.

He had spent a long time under the yoke of regret, caused by the hopelessness of knowing nothing about his previous life, whether he still had parents living, or other family; whether he was been missed, or had been mourned, when he vanished. The feelings were crushing. And there were something that, if he hadn’t learned to put aside and compartmentalise them, would probably have destroyed him by now.

So he had learned to put those feelings aside, bury them deep and only take them out when he was feeling particularly maudlin or introspective.

A luxury he didn’t often afford himself.

To the rest of the world, what little he interacted with of course, he was a cheery young man with a ready smile who went with the flow of life, no matter where it took him.

That mantle was heavier some days than others.

***

The sun was bright and clear that morning as he stepped foot back in Jiankang after several weeks in the provinces.

He still wasn’t entirely used to the hustle and bustle of a capital city; especially after he had been away for any length of time. There was something that always seemed to make him feel like a country bumpkin when traversing the packed streets of Jiankang.

It was probably the air of importance everyone seemed to try and give themselves in the capital; it was never a feeling that manifested itself in small agricultural towns with equally as busy markets, for example.

His discomfort told him he had never been a city boy, even in the past that he couldn’t remember.

It seemed, to him, that people in the capital considered that they were made more important by mere virtue of being so close to the Son of Heaven.

If that were genuinely the way it worked, however, it made Jiang Shao particularly lofty in rank.

In reality, the idea amused him immensely; it wasn’t a concept he could take seriously. He was a nobody who had had the good fortune to recommend himself to Prince Jin before his ascension, and who proved useful still to the Tianzi.

And that was all Jiang Shao needed from life. A purpose to drive him on. And what more purpose could he wish for than to serve his Emperor in protecting the Empire and it’s people?

He paused at a vendor and bought Jianbing; if he ate on the way back to the royal city he could quickly bathe and be ready to report to the Tianzi when the Emperor’s schedule allowed.

He wandered along the packed streets as he ate.

The thing he missed most when returning to Jiankang was the food. His palate naturally craved spicier foods than were typically available here; he was a long way from what might have once been his home. Although home was an assumption he made only, going only on the dialect he spoke with, which had been softened over the years by his travel in the private army of Ye Qingyan and then his life in the capital in service of the Emperor.

He pondered as he walked; perhaps it was time to request a little time away from the palace, so he could return to Yunmeng to investigate his possible origins. He had wandered through the lakes soon after he’d left the farm near Yiling, hoping to stumble across some clue as to who he was, or jog his lost memories, but the area was occupied by invading forces, and was a bloody war zone; it wasn’t safe for ordinary people to be caught in the crossfire of two massive armies.

He had heard tell of a slaughtered family, of young generals making names for themselves, and he privately wondered if, before his memory loss, he might have been part of the defending army, and that was where his wounds had been earned. But how was he meant to pinpoint one missing life in a sea of so much death and destruction? It would have been impossible, and he couldn’t stay, and take the risk of falling into the hands of either side; how could he when he didn’t know friend from foe? Interrogators wouldn’t believe a story about lost memories if he fell into the wrong hands and was thought to be an enemy spy.

So he had abandoned his search and continued east in pursuit of Ye Qingyan, avoiding battles and armies as he travelled across the Central Plains.

Now, with his gained skills as a spymaster and information broker, he might still come up against the same impossible task of identifying one lost grain of rice in a field full of it, but he had more hope than he had then. Even with the passage of time a cold trail might sometimes be stumbled upon.

He had spent so many years putting the sadness, the emptiness, the sense of being broken, less than his whole, aside, covering it with a smile and a laugh. He hadn’t dared to dwell on it, lest it crush him.

But every little while, he would dream one of those unusual dreams that seemed too real to be purely imagination, but not real enough that he could be certain they were so. They plagued his sleep in clusters, and now those clusters came with increasing frequency.

What if it was his past life trying to break through to the surface, now the trauma had faded?

He should at least try to see if there were any trails to follow in Yunmeng. And he had a possible birth name to begin with.

Chéng.

It wouldn’t make things easy but it would ensure he was able to disregard some leads.

He finished his makeshift breakfast, called briefly at his lodgings in the barracks to bathe and change out of his travel-stained clothes, (oh how it annoyed Xue Rong, even now, that he refused to use the ministerial palace that had been allotted to him,) and made his way to the Emperor’s hall.

He intended to let Xue Rong’s aide know he was back and ready to report at the Tianzi’s leisure, then spend his time bringing himself up to date with happenings while he had been away from the capital.

Due to the fact he approached from the barracks and not the city gate, he saw the group approaching before any of them would have been able to see him.

He halted like he’d walked into an invisible wall.

One guard escortedtwo gentlemen cultivators

He guessed from their dress and the easily identified symbols of their clans that these two were likely Lan Xichen of the Gusu Lan sect, and Jin Guangyao of Lanling Jin, and current incumbent of the title of Chief Cultivator.

One was dressed in richly appointed gold robes, decorated in a peony motif, he was of medium height and bore a vermilion mark on his forehead. He wore a gauze hat, which was just as exquisitely embroidered and jewelled as his robes.

Jin Guangyao, Lianfang-zun, half-brother to the current Jin Sect leader.

And the second man should really have been overshadowed by the first, considering how plain his garb was in direct comparison to his companion’s. But in reality was like the dawn light measured against a star in the sky; it could only outshine.

This man was tall, willowy, and perfectly graceful in figure, movement and look.

A pristine white headband decorated with clouds sat at his brow and he was robed in pure white.

Lan Xichen, Zewu-jun, current sect leader of Gusu Lan.

That gentleman looked at his companion, as Jin Guangyao spoke to him, with gentle amber eyes. Eyes that Jiang Shao sometimes saw in his dreams.

Pure white robes.

Mourning robes. A strident, mocking voice, one he knew so well, but not at all, sounded in his head.

Gentle amber eyes.

A-Cheng. Tender tones spoken lowly in a rich timbre.

There was such a clamour in his head suddenly. He must have made a noise, or they caught his movement from the corner of their eyes, because the pairs’ gazes turned his way.

But he was a creature of the darkness and secrecy, and he didn’t wish to be seen. Not yet. Not like this, when he didn’t know up from down or real from false, so he ducked out of sight, and sank to the ground when he was assured he was unseen.

The implications were overwhelming.

If the jade-like lover of his dreams was real, how many of the others who appeared there were?

Chapter 1 Notes:

This is a post I referred to quite heavily, originally from lansizhuis blog but added to, as is one of the beauties of tumblr, by even more useful and helpful information by various people. I, and no doubt others who've found the information useful, can only thank them for their sharing their findings with the rest of us.

I needed an idea of what would be going on at court for the Emperor and Jiang Shao in the mdzs timeline. Xue Rong is therefore enthroned as the Emperor of the Southern Dynasty, who's capital would have been Jiankang, (present day Nanjing), in the 450's, which is situated georgraphically between where the Jin clan was based in Lanling, (present day Linyi), Shandong province, and the Lans in Gusu, (present day Suzhou, just south east of Nanjing), in Jiangsu province.

It's perfectly fair to say that an Emperor, at war with a powerful neighbouring empire would be very uncomfortable with these two powers almost pincering his capital, and would be suspicious of them if they weren't openly declaring for or against him. The entire arena for what happens in MDZS is in the borderlands between the Northern and Southern Dynasty's lands, it would make both north and south very nervous.

This is canon time divergence AU MDZS, but alternative universe SGQJ, which was set in the Zhou Dynasty. over a thousand years before when the likely time for MDZS to be set is, as per the research done by anon and others in the post linked above.

#mdzs fanfic #the legend of two sisters in the chaos fanfic #crossover #shaorong #xicheng #chaptered fic #mdzs canon divergence #alternate universe two sisters verse #blood #injury #amnesia #torn loyalties #slow burn xicheng #TWTLAL AU #Shay's stuff