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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 10 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren was only made aware that Wen Ruohan had fixed things when he realized that two weeks had gone by without anyone saying anything about him personally and had, out of a sense of morbid curiosity, asked one of his teachers about it.

“Oh, didn’t you hear?” his teacher asked, nose deep in one of the musical scores they’d put together for the array project, hunting for the flaws. “The sworn brother business was just part of one of his schemes to gain additional power amongst the Great Sects.”

Having been involved in it, Lan Qiren wasn’t so sure about that. “What do you mean, honored teacher?”

“He’s been finding ways to form new ties with all the Great Sects, not just ours,” his teacher explained. “It’s all come out; some very clever people figured it out. There’s a new trade agreement with the Jiang sect that both sides were keeping hushed up, something going on with the head of the Nie sect that the Nie sect disciples are being especially close-mouthed about, and, of course, his new connection with the Jin sect…it’s really not that surprising that he decided to find a way into our Lan sect by trickery.”

His teacher said it casually, as if of course Lan Qiren's sworn brotherhood had been formed by a slightly underhanded maneuver rather than torture or rape or anything like that, and while of course that was in fact true, Lan Qiren was stunned by the fact that what passed for common knowledge in the cultivation world had been flipped on its head in such a short time.

Truly, Wen Ruohan’s cunning was boundless. It was a little frightening.

“Say,” his teacher added. “As his sworn brother, you’ll be attending the wedding, won’t you? You should bring back some stories!”

Lan Qiren stared blankly. “…what wedding?”

It turned out that Wen Ruohan’s new connection with the Jin sect was through a marriage. The bride wasn't surnamed Jin, that would be too much for most people to tolerate without some sort of excuse; she was instead from a powerful subsidiary sect that swore allegiance to the Wen sect, in keeping with Wen Ruohan’s preference for his own people above anyone else, but her mother was a branch cousin of the Jin sect and everyone said that it was obviously meant as a way to bind the sects together. They said Wen Ruohan had spoken openly of his desire for sons – as usual, no one mentioned the names of those of his descendants already in his sect’s memorial hall – and that there were high hopes associated with the union on both sides. The Jin sect was said to be already parading around the marriage as their newest political victory, trying to use the connection to their best advantage.

“How long has this been planned, do you think?” Lan Qiren asked Lan Yueheng, mostly out of lack of other people to ask; unsurprisingly, Lan Yueheng shrugged.

“It’s an engagement,” he said disinterestedly. “My cousin says the negotiations for an engagement can be as long or as short as everyone wants it. But surely no one would make a lifetime decision like that lightly? Not to mention an alliance between sects, however implicit. It must have been planned a long time ago.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t so sure. There was always the ambiguous situation between Wen Ruohan and Lao Nie to consider, and given the way Lao Nie had spoken during his visit, it sounded as if he had encouraged Wen Ruohan to come up with some clever way out of the situation, rather than suggesting that one already existed.

Moreover, he wasn’t sure that Wen Ruohan considered a marriage to be a lifetime decision. Hadn’t he been married before, had sons before? It was only that they had all died…

“Lan-er-gongzi!” A runner came up to him, saluting. “The Sect Leader asks that you report to the hanshi at once.”

“That’s probably your invitation,” Lan Yueheng said, sounding mildly disapproving – undoubtedly he thought weddings were a waste of time compared with doing experiments. Taking inspiration from his work with Lan Qiren in merging math and music, he’d recently expanded his interests from mathematics to alchemy, and Lan Qiren grimly foresaw many exploding furnaces in the Lan sect’s immediate future. At least they had some out-of-the-way places for him to work, or else there'd also be a lot of punishments for violating the rules about too much noise in Lan Yueheng's personal future. “It’ll probably make you miss the first week of this season’s classes, too…well, try not to be too bored.”

Sadly, Lan Qiren did not think being bored would be an option.

Sure enough, when he arrived at the hanshi where his father and brother were waiting alongside several sect elders, the subject of discussion was the invitation he had received to attend the wedding.

“As Sect Leader Wen’s sworn brother, naturally you must attend,” his brother told him. “We will also be sending a delegation from the Lan sect to attend on our behalf officially, but your position is different. You must be careful not to offend anyone.”

Lan Qiren saluted. “I will do my best.”

“Sect Leader Wen will not be kind if you lose face for him, especially at his wedding, even if it is inadvertent - or even if what you do is perfectly correct by our standards,” one of the other elders, one of the older teachers, the well-respected if sleepy one, said. He sounded concerned on Lan Qiren's behalf, which Lan Qiren appreciated. “You must especially take care not to offend his new bride. Even where the marriage is made for the purpose of power and there is no expectation of love, a man does not like to have disturbances in his back courtyard.”

“Especially if the stories are true and Sect Leader Wen hopes for sons,” the teacher in swordsmanship responded, his voice a little acidic. He was still unhappy with Lan Qiren over what had happened during their visit to the Nightless City; Lan Qiren did his best to avoid him whenever possible. “I doubt Sect Leader Wen will persist in trying to raise one of our children once he has one of his own.”

That explained the sour expressions on the faces of his brother and some of the elders, Lan Qiren thought. They had hoped to use him to manipulate Wen Ruohan, though the exact method of how they would have done so escaped him no matter how he analyzed the words he had overheard that night in the hanshi, and Wen Ruohan had neatly evaded their snare with a countermove of his own – as with weiqi, so with politics, he assumed. A disappointment, as always.

“A brotherhood is for life,” Lan Qiren’s father said, voice distant as always, neutral as always. “There are ten months at minimum before any son is born, and all the years after; even if Sect Leader Wen forgets about his obligations, that does not mean that we must. There will be other opportunities.”

“Provided Qiren does not provide grounds for Sect Leader Wen to abjure the relationship,” his brother interjected.

“I will try my best not to do so,” Lan Qiren said again, stiff as always, though he suspected his brother was simply stating a fact rather than casting doubt on him. “When should I prepare myself to depart?”

“The delegation leaves tomorrow morning,” his brother said. “You will need to give a personal gift to your sworn brother in addition to the sect’s gift. I have selected several options; come with me to pick the one you prefer.”

Lan Qiren saluted the elders and wordlessly followed his brother to the treasury. He liked none of the gifts his brother had selected, thinking that they all seemed a bit too gaudy even for a recipient whose tastes tended toward the luxurious – a bit more Lanling Jin than Qishan Wen, and not at all something he would select for himself – but eventually he chose a heavy golden crown that seemed to be not too far from the ones that he’d seen Wen Ruohan wear in the past.

“Not the dagger?” his brother asked, his voice thick with irony that Lan Qiren did not understand, nodding towards another of the options, a golden-hilt blade so purely polished that one could see their reflection in it.

“Sect Leader Wen has a rich collection which we cannot hope to match,” Lan Qiren said, thinking of those peerless treasure swords rusting away as wall decorations in Wen Ruohan’s bedroom. “Moreover, it’s a wedding, which represents two parts joining together into a single whole, while a gift of a knife implies severing. It is therefore inappropriate for such an occasion.”

“Brothers who have shared blood cannot be separated. It is a suitable gift from a sworn brother.”

Lan Qiren looked down at the options, feeling a little helpless. “If you would like me to change my selection…”

“The guan is fine,” his brother said, and shook his head, seeming almost a little pitying. “You are very good to be concerned with your sworn brother’s feelings, no matter how your relationship came about. Too much goodness can be seen as weakness, you know.”

I thought I wasn’t supposed to be making trouble? Lan Qiren thought to himself. Still, since his brother did not seem inclined to elaborate, he handed the gift to one of the servants to be put into an appropriate box.

In actuality, he had already selected a personal gift of his own, shortly after he had first heard about the impending wedding – it had seemed reasonable that he would need to send a gift, even if he didn't expect to actually be invited, and it had not occurred to him that he would be allowed to utilize the sect treasury for such a thing. He’d gone to Caiyi Town and purchased a small set of drinking bowls, applying the glaze himself as the artisan spun the pots; they had gone into the kiln immediately thereafter, and he was expecting the delivery today – in fact, it was probably already waiting in his room.

He would pack the set up with his personal items and give it to Wen Ruohan anyway, he decided. After all, he’d opted to do the design in Wen sect red rather than Lan sect blue, rendering it useless for his own purposes, and it would be worse to simply throw it away or to let it sit and gather dust. Being frugal is a virtue, after all.

Of course, if he were truly being frugal, he would have told his brother that he did not need an additional gift and left the guan alone, but he didn’t want to reject his brother’s kindness, either, rare as it was. Better to just eat the loss of the funds and have Wen Ruohan think him a spendthrift…

“Sect Leader Wen will undoubtedly have you stay in the Sun Palace during your visit,” his brother said abruptly, and Lan Qiren looked at him: his brother wasn’t looking at him, but into the distance, and his fingers twitched at his side in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness. “As his sworn brother, it would be inappropriate for him to put you in the guest quarters, or to fail to allow you free mobility through the Nightless City.”

“That seems likely,” Lan Qiren agreed hesitantly, not sure why his brother was mentioning it.

“He is fortunate that you are not naturally observant,” his brother said. “Otherwise one might fear that you would use the opportunity to learn more about how the Wen sect works – its treasures, its secrets. Its plans for the future.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” Lan Qiren said quickly. “Have courtesy and integrity, after all. Even if I were to discover something incidentally, naturally I would be honor-bound not to share it without informing Sect Leader Wen that I had done so.”

His brother sighed, his fingers abruptly unclenching. “Of course you would. How could anyone doubt it…I don’t suppose you’ve ever given any thought to Do not forget the grace of your forefathers?”

“Of course I have. That’s one of the fundamental rules,” Lan Qiren said, now absolutely bewildered. “That we should live up to the expectations of our ancestors, both in our good conduct and discipline, and in supporting our sect so that our descendants may honor them equally.”

His brother shook his head. “Sometimes I really don’t understand you. You were tricked into an oath like a virgin maiden into a sweet-talker’s bed, weren't you?” he said. Lan Qiren really didn’t understand how his brother’s mind worked that he kept changing subjects like this. “I just wonder that you aren’t more resentful of the one that did it, the way anyone else would be. The way you act, you’d think Sect Leader Wen had done you a favor; you’re so considerate of him.”

Lan Qiren thought his brother might be being sarcastic, but he wasn’t very good at determining such things. “Even if the manner in which we became sworn brothers was unorthodox, the oaths have still been sworn,” he said, a little haltingly. “I cannot control his actions, only my own. Just because he might not be a good brother doesn’t mean I can’t be – isn’t that right?”

His brother glared at him. “If you have something to say, Qiren, you can say it directly.”

Lan Qiren was at an utter loss. “I – was?”

“Your teachers say that you’re brilliant,” his brother said, voice suddenly very cold. “I often wonder whether they’re not growing too old for their work.”

“I don’t –”

“Never mind. You’re dismissed.”

Lan Qiren saluted and returned to his quarters, puzzling over the conversation as he packed away his things for the trip. Was his brother trying to warn him against anyone encouraging him to act as a spy? Or was he trying to convince him to act as a spy himself? But if it was the latter, why wouldn’t he just say so? If it were truly necessary for some reason, for the good of the sect…

Was he supposed to volunteer?

But that would be truly breaking the oath of brotherhood – of which he still didn’t know the contents…

Lan Qiren supposed that, at least, was one thing he would be able to fix: very soon, he would be seeing his sworn brother again for the first time since they’d sworn their oaths.

Maybe he’d find a way to ask.

#mdzs #lan qiren #qingheng-jun #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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stiltonbasket · 4 years

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chancellor of the morning sun: lecture (adulthood)

In which Lan Xichen throws down with Jin Zixuan; or, part 6 of the nielan au that has completely taken over my brain.

At the risk of offending her little brother, Lan Xichen often reflects on the fact that Wei Wuxian would probably love to break every last one of the Lan sect precepts, simply for the sake of doing it.

Wei Wuxian—Jiang Fengmian’s ward and adopted son, and coincidentally the same little boy who threw roses at Wangji’s head during that discussion conference in Qishan—is exactly the sort of person her uncle would run a li or two in very tight shoes to avoid, still not ready to contemplate the fact that Cangse Sanren was no longer among the living. An unfortunate incident in Caiyi (with some tea served in a cup that had previously held heavy liquor, and not been washed well enough later) had told Lan Xichen all she needed to know about that, especially when Shufu revealed that he still saw the flare of Cangse Sanren’s bright sword in his dreams when he thought of her before sleeping.

“Why did you not declare your suit then, Shufu?” Xichen asked, praying that her uncle would forget the conversation entirely when he sobered up in an hour or two. “You loved her, didn’t you?”

“I was seventeen, and she was four-and-twenty,” he replied. “I was a child to her, as Jiang Fengmian was, and I was unsuited in another way, though I did not know it then.”

But Lan Qiren had truly grieved on that dark night thirteen years ago when word came from Yunmeng Jiang announcing the deaths of Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze, and it was the only time save the morning of her mother’s passing that Xichen ever saw her uncle cry.

(He had not cried a drop when her father died; his brother’s fate had filled him with such wrath at the men who forced it on him that all Lan Qiren said after Qingheng-jun was buried was that he would not let the elders touch Lan Huan, or little A-Zhan, even if he had to tear himself apart for it.)

Lan Zhan is much like their uncle, now that Lan Xichen thinks about it. He has the same intolerance for lawlessness and disorder, the same helpless weakness for people who are bold, and brash, and free—so is it really any wonder that he seems to have fallen desperately in love with Wei Wuxian?

Xichen believes that it isn’t, especially now that her precious didi is doing the Wangji equivalent of wringing his hands—that is, white-knuckling his sword, whose hilt usually suffers most whenever her brother is out of sorts—and pleading with her to speak to their uncle and lessen Wei Wuxian’s latest punishment, which seems to have been the result of an all-out brawl with Jin Zixuan the previous evening.

“I was informed that Young Master Wei ‘left a bruise the size of his fist’ on Jin Zixuan’s face, and struck him unprovoked,” she says, lifting a curious brow at him. “Last I heard, all Shufu told him to do was kneel in the courtyard outside his receiving chamber and reflect on his ill temper. What is so harsh about that?”

“Shufu has summoned Jin Guangshan and Jiang-zongzhu here to discuss the matter with them,” Wangji insists. “And—I was not there, but Wei Ying’s third disciple brother reported that Jin Zixuan slighted Lady Jiang before his whole delegation, and that Wei Ying began fighting with him for that reason. Surely that cannot be such a grave offense that Wei Ying must be expelled from the Cloud Recesses, Jie?”

Lan Xichen feels her heart melt. “No, it is not. But since Jiang-zongzhu and Jin-zongzhu are both here, then it must be about the marriage between Jin Zixuan and Jiang-guniang, and not anything to do with Wei Wuxian. We had already invited Jiang-zongzhu, remember?”

Her brother nods. “Yes, A-Jie. This brother shall take his leave now, then, and disturb you no further.”

“Wait, Wangji. You mentioned that Wei Wuxian’s third shidi witnessed the encounter between the boys?” she asks, her mind already on other matters now that Wangji seems to have cheered up a little. “Would that be Yu Zhenhong, or Dai Lingyi?”

“Yu Zhenhong, I believe. He is in your cultivation history lecture, is he not?”

“I had rather hoped it would be him,” Xichen confesses, rising to her feet. “Wangji, I must trouble you to go and fetch the boy at once, and then bring whomever among the Jin disciples you deem most trustworthy. I would hear an account of it all from them, if it is possible.”

Wangji bows before hurrying off, as he began doing the very day she was instated as Sect Leader Lan four years ago; Xichen had tried to argue with him, insisting that he was still her precious baby brother and ought never to bow to her except when they were in public, but their uncle claimed that Wangji must not fail to show her full deference even when they were alone. The elders would leap upon even a spark of discourtesy from Wangji or even from Shufu himself and use it to undermine her, he said, or press her into yielding her seat to Wangji before she married and moved to Qinghe, or worse, before Wangji was ready, which would leave the council in power yet again.

But what none of the council knows is that Nie Mingjue has been the recipient of many midnight letters detailing Lan Xichen’s predicament, and that he even asked his father to move their wedding from Xichen’s eighteenth year to the seventh year after that. Nie Huangyin wanted to see his son with a child of his own as soon as Gusu Lan would permit it, not knowing that they would have sent Xichen away before she turned eighteen if he dared voice his wish—but Mingjue begged him to postpone the marriage on bended knee, telling him that it would break her heart to leave Wangji behind when he was only fourteen, and to never have the chance to lead her clan when she fought so valiantly to earn the standing a man would have commanded by the fact of his birth.

It was this last that softened Nie Huangyin’s resolve, since his respect for the place Xichen would someday have (as his heir’s wife, and the mother of his grandchildren, as well as the future of his line) was surpassed only by his regard for the place she already held as the first heir to Gusu Lan and its future sect leader.

And then Nie Huangyin died two years before Xichen ascended as Lan-zongzhu, and Mingjue’s first state journey as Sect Leader Nie had been to the Cloud Recesses, to demand that the betrothal contract be altered to permit him to wed Lan Huan as soon or as late as he liked.

“But your father stipulated that it should be no later than—”

“I am in mourning. It may take a very long time before I can emerge from my grief well enough to look after a wife and children,” Mingjue interrupted, stopping the first elder who dared voice an objection dead in his tracks. “Perhaps it will be ten years from now, instead of nine. Or maybe twelve. I have not yet realized the depths of my sorrow, for it grows worse every day.”

“Surely you would not leave the most precious flower of our sect unwed for so long!” another elder jumped in, looking completely outraged. “Wedding her at twenty-five was bad enough, but for you to come asking to wait longer still! What is wrong with Lan Huan, in your eyes? Would you have her watch all the maidens her age gain the titles of wife and mother, while she must remain an old maid until you see fit to marry her?”

“I think far too highly of Sect Heir Lan to bring her to a household still darkened with the pain of the previous Nie-zongzhu’s passing,” Nie Mingjue said flatly, throwing Lan Xichen a conspiratorial look that none of the council but Shufu could see. “When I bring her to the Unclean Realm as my bride, it will because I, and she, have both agreed that it is the proper time.”

What a blessing of fate it was, that I was promised to Mingjue-xiong, Xichen thinks now, pondering over the matter between Jiang Yanli and her intended, who seems to struggle with showing the poor girl even the barest courtesy. If it had been anyone else—anyone, at all—

“A-Jie?” Wangji calls from outside the door, pulling her out of her musings as she hurries to let him in. “I have brought Yu-gongzi and one of the Jin disciples, as you requested.”

But for some reason, Wangji seems to have brought three disciples along instead of two. One is Yu Zhenhong, who looks like a paler, sharper-faced version of Jiang Wanyin, and the second is the Jin clan’s head disciple, Luo Qingyang; but the third is a young girl from the Jiang clan, who seems to be the only one among the three with a weapon at her waist. Xichen quickly places her as Wei Wuxian’s first shimei, Li Shuai, and realizes with amused surprise that this is the maiden who smuggled Emperor’s Smile into the Cloud Recesses last month so that her da-shixiong and er-shixiong could have a forbidden party with it.

“Lan-zongzhu,” the disciples chorus, making her a deep, formal bow before Yu Zhenhong steps forward. “Zewu-xianzi, how may we be of assistance? Second Young Master Lan informed me that you needed us for something.”

“I do,” she says, inclining her head. “I would have your account of the disagreement between Young Master Jin and Young Master Wei, up until the point they were interrupted by Wangji and Maiden Jiang.”

The three accounts coincide exactly, though Luo Qingyang has more to tell regarding the remarks Jin Zixuan made about Jiang-guniang before Wei Wuxian arrived on the scene. Xichen listens to them all in some distress before sending the disciples back about their business, and then she fights the temptation to down a whole pot of tea before turning back to her brother. “Where is Jin Zixuan now, A-Zhan?”

“Kneeling in a courtyard across from the one where Wei Ying is,” Wangji says, confused. “What of him?”

“Go bring him to me,” she orders. “I rather fancy his betrothal will be dissolved before the day is out, but I must speak with him first.”

Wangji makes off without a word, reappearing again five minutes later with a very irate Jin Zixuan beside him. It is impossible to tell that the two of them are three years apart, by now; Wangji and Jin Zixuan are of the same height, and Wangji’s collected calm belies his age to the point where he looks closer to Lan Xichen’s two and twenty years instead of eighteen.

“You may go, A-Zhan,” Lan Xichen says gently, favoring her brother with a tender smile as he bows and slips out again: probably to comfort Wei Wuxian, if she had to guess. “And you, young master Jin—you may sit at that table there, and reflect while I brew some tea.”

Much confused, Jin Zixuan does, trying to keep his eyes fixed on the table in front of him while Lan Xichen heats a pot of water and lays out her favorite xiangqi board. Once the tea is ready, she calls Jin Zixuan up to her table and watches as he fills her cup and the one she put aside for him—and then she moves her first piece and directs him to do the same, trying not to sigh as he glances uncertainly at the board and moves his chariot.

“Um, Lan-zongzhu, what—”

“I was informed that you have some objection to your future marriage to Maiden Jiang,” she interrupts, cutting him off so smoothly that he scarcely seems to notice. “I find myself curious as to your reasons why, since I have known Jiang Yanli for many years and never run across any defect in her character at all.”

Jin Zixuan’s face goes purple. “Zewu-xianzi, that…”

“Is it that she is too kind for you?” Xichen muses aloud. She moves another piece, and looks at Jin Zixuan with lifted brows until he does the same. “Or, perhaps, that she smiles too much?”

“I—”

“I would like to hear you out fully, Jin-gongzi. What objection do you have to Jiang Yanli?”

His cheeks go even darker, and he lowers his eyes back to the xiangqi board before speaking again. Lan Xichen knows all his reasons in full, of course, and finds herself thoroughly disappointed in them; she began to have a better opinion of Jin Zixuan when he treated Meng Yao with courtesy the last time he visited Qinghe Nie, despite knowing full well that he and A-Yao are half-brothers and that A-Yao is the elder between them, but if matters proceed as Xichen fears they will, that good opinion might not even last the day. “Jin-gongzi!”

“Zewu-xianzi, I…”

“I will spare you the disgrace of having to speak such words again, then,” she says, motioning him to pour her another cup of tea. “Yu Zhenhong of Yunmeng Jiang—your intended’s cousin, and nephew to her mother—has already been to tell me about them, along with your own head disciple, who has always been devoted to you, from what I know of her.”

“Mianmian was here?” Jin Zixuan asks, finally looking up with something close to shame in his eyes. “She—told you everything?”

“That you think Jiang-guniang is too plain for your tastes, that her cultivation is too low for you, that her character is too timid and too weak, that she is too foolish over her brothers, that she is too attached to you, despite having known you since infancy, and that you would be her husband for exactly as long,” Lan Xichen counts off. “Luo-guniang told me all that, and more, but I would rather not say such things myself. Especially not about such an admirable girl as Yanli is.”

Jin Zixuan shuts his mouth again. A wonderful improvement on his usual state, Xichen thinks, even if she won’t say so.

“Jin-gongzi,” she says instead, “surely you must know that Jiang-guniang has no more choice in this marriage than you do, since it was contracted by your mothers even before they were married?”

“She likes it!” Jin Zixuan protests at last, goaded past the bounds of courtesy. “All our lives, she—even when we were children, she was always trying to make me soup, and get me to play with her brothers, no matter how much I tried to put her off! It might as well be a marriage of choice, on her part, and even though my mother will not hear of me breaking the engagement, Jiang-zongzhu would do it in a heartbeat if Jiang Yanli asked him to! She knows I want nothing of it—she has always known—but never, never has she had the courtesy to say so!”

Lan Xichen only raises her eyebrows at him. “Lan-zongzhu,” Jin Zixuan appends hastily.

“I see,” she observes. “What is it that Jiang-guniang likes about you, then?”

“...What?”

“Luo-guniang told me what you dislike about Maiden Jiang. So I must ask, Jin Zixuan—what does she like about you?”

The boy seems more confused than ever, somehow, and Xichen holds back a sigh before framing the question differently. “What advantages do you believe she would gain upon marrying you?”

“She would become Young Madam Jin, second mistress of the wealthiest sect after Qishan Wen,” Jin Zixuan replies at once, looking stunned that Lan Xichen even asked. “Once I took my father’s place, she would become the wife of a sect leader.”

“And?”

“She would...never want for anything?” he says uncertainly. “Not jewels, nor silks, nor any of the things that are dear to women. Her children would want for nothing, and she would be assured of their future.”

“How is that any different from what she is assured now?”

Jin Zixuan only looks bewildered again. “As the Young Mistress of Yunmeng Jiang, she…”

“Jiang Yanli has little fondness for material things,” Lan Xichen dismisses him. “She wears only plain jewels and a single ornament in her hair, and I have never seen her pass a beggar in the street without giving out enough coin for a day’s food. Nor has she any desire for power, since most of her work in Yunmeng concerns the education of children whose parents cannot teach them, and apprenticeships for women without family to care for them.

“And even if she did care for gold, and for power...her brothers worship the ground under her feet, as does her father, and I doubt there is anything Jiang Fengmian has ever denied her. Or that Jiang Wanyin ever will, when he becomes sect leader. With things between you two as they are, does she not have more power in Yunmeng Jiang, with her family supporting the ventures she chooses, than she could ever hope for as the mistress of Lanling?”

“Mother would give her that power, she wouldn’t have to ask me for it,” Jin Zixuan protests weakly. “Mother adores her, because she and Yu-furen have been friends since they were children.”

“But when the reins of the Jin sect lie in your hands alone, what then? Would she humble herself so, to ask anything of a husband whom she must know dislikes her?”

Jin Zixuan opens his mouth and then shuts it again. He looks very lost, somehow, as if he had wandered into a forest expecting to find rabbits before being accosted by a flesh-eating tiger instead.

Xichen drains the last of her tea and pointedly clears her throat. “So now that we have established that the greatest virtues of Lanling Jin hold no charm for Maiden Jiang, what do you have to offer her?”

“I...I…”

She finds herself losing her patience, then. “Do you remember the day we first met, Jin Zixuan? I had just recited twenty minutes’ worth of poetry at a discussion conference, as part of an elocution contest held among all the maidens past ten years of age who were present. Jiang Yanli performed first—and did very admirably, I might add—and she glanced towards you once hoping for a smile or a nod to encourage her, which she did not receive. But she held her own and finished her recitation magnificently, and I took the stage after her—and then I saw you looking at me, and I thought you were enchanted by the piece I had chosen. It was a fine one, written by my uncle when he was a youth, and I was glad that someone approved of it, even if it was only a boy of nine who would not even try to be friends with his betrothed.

“And then, after the contest was over, Qin Su invited me to come and take tea with her and her mother, so I stepped into the room next door to attend them,” Lan Xichen says icily, watching Jin Zixuan quail before her with a savage sort of pleasure. “The moment I was gone, you turned to your father, and asked if you could marry Maiden Lan, since you thought she suited you better than Maiden Jiang. Can you imagine what reason you gave him, Jin-gongzi?”

“Zewu-xianzi, please—”

“It was not the elocution I was displaying that night, or any perceived superiority in character. Rather, the only reason you gave for wanting a new maiden over the one you had known for years, and who had been nothing but kind to you, was that you thought the second one was pretty. Two girls, both feeling and thinking and breathing beings, reduced to nothing but the comeliness of their features, and the worst thing was that you said it as if it were the most natural idea in the world.

“I was called the jewel of Gusu Lan, accomplished beyond anything my sect had hoped—or even wanted—for my age, but when I heard you ask your father for me, like I was a bauble on a shelf and not a person, I nearly buried my head in my arms and cried. And then I admired Jiang Yanli even more than I already did, for having stood such treatment time and time again from the boy who was meant to be her husband and the father of her children, for all the rest of her days—without so much as a tear, or a frown.

“You forgot the thought of marrying me soon enough, thank Heaven, and you were always respectful towards me after that. But your treatment of your intended never improved, though it has been twelve years since then—and you would have me believe that Wei Wuxian was in the wrong, for challenging you?”

Jin Zixuan bows his head and says nothing. His lips are quivering, Lan Xichen notices, and his cheeks are flushed in sheer mortification; if he were five or six years younger, he might have burst into tears on the spot, and she feels her heart twinge a little at her harshness as the quaking of his mouth grows more obvious.

But then she remembers the look on Jiang Yanli’s face last night, and Wei Wuxian’s insistence that he only forgot his entrance token that first afternoon because the Jin delegation had ejected him and his martial siblings from the inn they were staying at, despite the fact that there were five or six empty rooms after the Jins were accommodated.

If Wei Wuxian spoke truly—and Lan Xichen highly doubts that he did not—Jin Zixuan turned his own betrothed out into the street when there were no inns remaining but the one he had taken rooms in, simply because he did not wish to share an entire house with her, and Jiang Yanli bore it with nothing but a reminder to her brothers to maintain their dignity before outsiders.

“Your betrothal contract will be dissolved by tonight, if my knowledge of Jiang-zongzhu holds true,” she says at last, pouring herself a fourth cup of tea. “Any change in heart will be too late for Maiden Jiang, or your engagement with her. But you will marry someone sometime, so perhaps that maiden will have better luck with you than Jiang-guniang did.”

Lan Xichen looks at the candle-clock burning on the table, and then at the sky outside her window. Jin Guangshan ought to have finished discussing the betrothal now, which means that it must be time for her to go explain the appearance of the Yin iron to Jiang Fengmian—but there is still something more she must say to Jin Zixuan, though it might just go over his head entirely.

“You are dismissed, Young Master Jin. But before you leave, consider this—when Nie Mingjue was betrothed to me, the engagement was settled by my clan and the previous Nie-zongzhu, and neither Chifeng-zun nor I had any choice in the matter. We had not met at the time, but all he wanted to know about me was whether I would be kind to Huaisang, and once his father said that I would be, Nie Mingjue was content.

“Perhaps you will have a good answer for what you seek in a wife, when the time comes for you to find one again.”

And then she gets up and sweeps off down the corridor to her uncle’s chambers, leaving Jin Zixuan frozen at the xiangqi board in her wake, and hopes that he will remember at least something of what she has told him—for his sake as well as Jiang Yanli’s.

#nielan #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #lan xichen #nie mingjue #nielan arranged marriage au #chancellor of the morning sun #my fic

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chinad · 7 years

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moisture fuels hopes in summer 2018

Aug 3, 2017

dreamt in army or in army training camp. in break my schoolmates asked me to write them a song for talent show but I really in brewing. a quick shooter schoolmate already wrote a song which exaggerate those propagated emotions. when schoolmates trusted my comments, I went straight and dislike promoting normal feelings to sanity. but without show to entertainment those who admire you, can be really embarrassing. this week drizzled a lot. my quilt turns wet indoor. I continued to make well usage of my new raspberry pi. but buggy rtandroid made a hell experience with lagging and frequent exit and halts. I spent half day to realize its cheap toy and shouldn't put more load onto it. isn't its independent running os satisfying? isn't it hardware essentially for handy computing a real alternative? I found the fact in huge relief and started to enjoy our dear kodi in the night. then I can't help innovative re-config via command lines rather than GUI to spare nvram on my router for better performance. when all done and went to bed, I doubt how much it worthies while a dearer product will have much ample nvram not to considerate again and again. is my job cheap or funny? or I just educated? this morning when I launched to spare nvram on my router via escaping GUI saving settings, I even mistaken network down. I had to visit dorm lan administrator for help. the woman in charge of surveillance cold shoulders to me and I finally found my fault in setting. near 11 pm my target archived and I called it a day with bliss. while I busy with my todo, some of my environment turned hostile to me. the dorm canteen woman tentatively shown her despise. women in dusk jog also reserved for my appreciation. I'm getting old and they shame of my humble and empty promise. many secret plots against me among hooligans around. God dad, I didn't see my farewell show and nobody deserves to probe. dad God, I was contented with my life here with hopes and distresses. bring me sooner my Royal China with my prosperous offspring. bring Asoh Yukiko, my Crown Queen from Japan, for our better life and enjoyable harmony in daily arrangement. without Japan, without China in future world of economic and sustainable while gracious.

Jul 29, 2017

dreamt invited my son, woz and his mom to go cinema. his mom in anger and after movie abrupt brought my son with her horse left. I had to endure aftermath the reckless woman's rage, find my horse and in dusk search for boarding. in my aunt, passed years ago without notified me, in her husband village I find a mid-aged villager in his yard offering help. he accompanied us find my aunt's house, which is usual half empty and sedative. we talked about my family, esp my passed eldest sister who committed suicide in her prime and helped me a lot, her 2 children, her son and her daughter and my obligation and concerns. then I decided to visit possible home my son and his mom might might settled. on way my niece passed by us and offered some sweet famous local feature snack to us. I likely with my son with whom I felt so warm in heart. I recall and chat my son how I liked the feature food and each time never enough in my childhood. its warm pastime of the dream. its a late sleep till near noon for my relax after the week. I'm now penniless while hours late I will visit my son and bring him dining out. last Wednesday I again worked overnight, to settle 2 raspberry pi 3 before my additional case ordered on taobao arrives, and backup os images before put into usage. the week spent in understanding raspberry pi os availability before making our choice to adopt ubuntu, libreelec, and android. in the process I learned more and sharpened my linux skill, esp after 2 failures accidentally deleted home folder with hidden mounted external disks and ruined plugged usb devices most. I had to rebuild ubuntu and multi-bootable disks in the devastation. rebuilding rewards: new os ran smoothly installing gapps on my raspberry pi android, against disk space shortage previously frequent me and failed my many saving efforts. after almost thoroughly perceived the situation of the raspberry pi world and community, I closed my solution and brought it to see my son on Friday afternoon, after felt boring and sleepy in enjoying online stream our lovable kodi brings. woz arranged practicing e-piano at home and glad seeing his dad. in the vengeful small woman, son's mom's bully and scorn I arranged my son familiar with his new toy, including new os on it, and my own setup lunar calendar on his 2 android phones for informative lunar weather for the soon lapsing summer 2017. my son immersed in new experience of kodi os, linux terminal mode. in the exciting meeting, my sleepiness evapored and energy fills me with meaningful fullness. I settled like a bean. as to my raspberry pi's android, I likely left some remnant bugs to fix, but I will cop it with conquering reign and leisure. God dad, this morning dream really strange and surreal. bring me sooner my new family when I enliven with it. bring my crown Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko, for our vested territory on eastern Asia, for our people and homeland. dad God, grant us affordable cinema experience this month and next around woz's new school term, which his start year in Junior middle school. grant us to visit Walmart local market with adequate purse capacity. we enjoyed the sale giant trustworthy so much!

Jul 21, 2017

dreamt in my hometown in a camp. first our village under huge refurnish for tourism. my dearest passed dad, mom, both appeared in dream. there was a town hall just under my dad's old house and in a row of houses there was performance and performers from nearby villagers. there were herd of visitors. then found I was in a travel delegation, in which quite some photographers members, inc girls. we managed to lift ourselves via a lever to higher level. in our team there was a girl film fan closely collaborated with me and we almost led to friend. my sinful elder cousin of my uncle's family, who worked for government long time, again in his separation and kept aside from our villager's ongoing emerging new business. its a sleepy morning. I felt sad why I recently so sleepy in the morning, which so irresistible, arbitrarily and concludes without delay. that reminds me my 2nd elder brother's habit in which he can sleep anytime and any occasions in minutes when spared. I long time wondering why he behaves so, and now the same symptom likely happens on me. and I more and more saw boring's power overwhelmingly stops a working mind. Just now a cop called in for my PSBC credit debt. he urged me to call him back but I wouldn't. God dad, they don't wait another 2 month when I will clear bankcomm's debt and starts to return ccb and psbc's. as to recent works, its quite fruitful. my ordering woz a raspberry pi 3 leads me to research other oses like ubuntu, libreelec, rt-android, etc. the linux based home media center, libreelec at once attracted me, as I was in process equipping my son a better living experience including TV and other entertainment. sooner after found it working to provide reliable source of online stream, I deployed it onto my desktop wintel, chromebox, and raspberry pi. with knowledge of online community and powerful google, I soon turned my chromebox into dual booting chromeos and libreelec, cheap but viable. my nephew, ie elder son of my youngest elder sister, loaned me ￥230 to buy raspberry pi for my son, but refused me another order 2 days later to update air drier powders against wet dorm near toilet I laid on taobao.com. so I turned appeal to my niece, ie first child of my eldest brother, his daughter, for loan to buy myself another raspberry pi. it succeeded with some trifle exchange of view over credibility of PRC's software mostly shamelessly preying its user base. and this month salary barely satisfying, near ￥3300. I mistakenly paid back ccb instead of bankcomm to whom there is a debt under ￥2500 and can be cleared at max 2 months within. last dusk jog I review my lingering naps and saw my wondering dream of a new family, a real family of my own in which I authorized, catered to my relatives. God, dad, bring me sooner my Royal China to support my new family. bring my girls into new reality shapes new eastern Asia. grant me free of debt and joy of living.

Jul 12, 2017

summer 2017 turns much milder after many small rains. and my room window again gathers lots of bugs. yesterday I delivered our first raspberry pi 3 to my son, woz for his study. we managed install it. after 2 failures due to file system format misconfig, we boot it up with noobs 4 on tf card formatted by my chromebook. in the harsh process debug, we amateur damaged a 16GB tfcard and had to use his 32GB tfcard for his portable boombox instead. such a elation after saw raspberry pi interface! after let it downloading Rispbian I left it to my son and arranged he sit in front of TV and returned to my dorm. a thunderstorm just left and air outside freshly crisp. last week boosted by improved salary, we ordered several inspiring goods online, inc 2 seat cover made of cooler materials for summer, a backup vpn router, and raspberry pi 3. my own have an order for replacing used air drier powder made in Japan in my QRRS dorm, 3rd time replacement order with the same vendor on taobao.com. my credit debt near clearance to bankcomm.com after this month, and my total credit debt to other 2 banks mounts below ￥40000, a great relief for me. in this regard, I more and more thinking my long term ownership over zhone 21 domains I cherished so much and indispensable. I also saw decades hereafter my life and investment and intelligent property registered. God dad, put me anxious free upon stealthy CCP and robbing vicious human population competition pressure. promise me my vested Royal garden and shadow of trees and plants, song of birds and bees. this dawn dreamt a lot about prominent global topics, which now in evaporation. last night I in deep content after watched episode on amazon, for faith and pride. God dad, I'm in no one's enemy when I in holy bliss. target me in your future mission all world gathering bravery. if cheap souls can't discipline themselves, the chosen does. let America acts and makes adjustment at will, like Trump did for US, graciously and arbitrarily as whole family as vocation. dad God, people nation and shrine of Holy lending its way. grant me the breakthrough toward new land and territory that renew our old oath and blood bond in eastern Asia. God, bring me sooner my Royal China and Asoh Yukiko, my crown Queen from Japan. lives me another child and a family here.

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be21zh · 7 years

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#IFTTT #Blogger #technicolormoments #blog #blog post #benzillar #benzrad.us

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