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imissjoongsmullet · 3 years

Text

My Prince (5)

Pairing: Minghao x reader

Genre: fluff/(angst)

Summary: Life is not exactly easy being the royal gardeners’ daughter but at least it’s simple. When you’re suddenly called upon to serve as the prince’s personal servant, things get a little more than complicated, especially considering the secret history you and the prince share.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Warnings: general angstiness, a bit of a slow burn, very romantic, very soft, the fact that this will most likely become a long series cause I have no chill

Word Count: 7K

Author’s Note: this is long overdue but also, this is just long! I just couldn’t stop writing and so now this chapter is 7K so yeah ENJOY!! ✌️

Let me know what you think, good or bad, I love the feedback ♥

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Fine.

Those last words he'd said to you kept playing in your mind the following days. Technically he'd said other words since but they'd been cloaked in formalities; commands from a prince to a servant, nothing more. You'd really screwed up this time, you'd lost him forever. It was a thing you'd known would happen from the start but that didn't soften the pain now festering in your chest.

Minghao had met with Zhong Mei, as he had supposed to that day. He'd been a perfect picture of royalty, graceful and pleasant; and she'd been lovely as she always was, smiling all the way through the meal. Meanwhile you had stood flanking the wall with Tou Ma, trying to keep your tears from spilling over. You'd kept your eyes down, counting the colorful mosaics that threaded the shiny black flooring until the whole thing was over.

Not that any of it was over of course.

After the prince and his bride's first official meeting, the two were ushered out into the gardens to "spend some time alone" while you helped Tou Ma with a another seemingly endless string of wedding-related tasks.

Slowly but surely your body reverted to autopilot, working your hands raw and your legs sore. You barely realized you were spacing out until at last, you lied down in your sheets on the floor of the maid's quarters and cried. You cried and cried in stuttered silence, praying the sun would not come up again. You didn't know how you'd face another day. You thought about feigning illness but knew Tou Ma would not be so easily fooled.

“You’ll be out in the gardens today,” the head maid explained with a weary expression. This whole wedding business seemed to have taken a toll on the old woman as well. “Floral arrangements need to be decided on and I need you to oversee the whole thing gets done in time. Can I trust you with that?”

Your head bobbed up and down faster than was polite. A rush charged through your chest at the idea of spending time with the flowers. Despite your frequent complaining as a gardener, you’d always enjoyed taking care of the vivid, fragrant plants that grew in the royal gardens. But more than that, you knew what this request must mean.

“Mother!” you cried, breaking out into a run. She looked older and shorter somehow, but her embrace was as tight as ever.

Of course, your parents would be working on the flower arrangements as well.

“Look at you!” she said, holding your face in her dirt-stained hands, “my daughter, a real part of the castle.”

Overwhelmed with grief for the life you’d left behind, a sob welled up from the back of your throat but before it could break free into the morning air, Tou Ma interrupted.

“There is lots of work to be done so we better start at once,” she said matter-of-factly, unrolling a long piece of parchment, “I have sat down with both the royal family and the Zhong family respectively and decided on a theme and color scheme for the celebration. I have listed all requirements specifically. The types, the arrangements, the placements, all of it has been meticulously planned.” She then turned her head your way. “I’m leaving you in charge of making sure everything is accounted for on the day. This is a big task, but regrettably, I am far too busy taking care of everything else to take this on as well. And you are the gardener’s daughter, after all. Do not disappoint me.” With another one of her stern looks, she handed you the scroll, gave a curt bow to your parents and walked away.

Now this was a task you were up for. You gazed around you, at the stretches of colorful flowers that ran as far as the eye could see. There were rows and rows of chrysanthemums that spawned in colorful formations, bushes of peonies flanking cobbled pathways, a whole field of the most delicious-smelling lavender, lilies and azaleas and roses and narcissus flowers and you felt all at once, at home. For a moment you seemed to forget the prince and your feelings. It was like a giant slimy toad had just slipped right off of your shoulders, leaving you feeling light as air.

Looking over the list, you were up for quite the challenge. The sheer amount of flowers that would need to be harvested for this event, on such short notice, was startling. But with the help of your parents and their staff, you were confident you’d be able to pull it off. You spent the whole morning and most of the afternoon rushing from one end of the garden to the other, figuring out which plants would be needed, when they’d need to be cut and who would craft what particular piece. It was a little strange, being in charge when all the gardeners were quite a bit older and definitely more experienced than you, but your parents kept encouraging you whenever you stuttered.

“I’m so proud of you,” your mother said as you both sat down for a rest underneath a pine tree on a hill overlooking the garden. She pulled out a packed lunch for the both of you: rice wrapped in bamboo leaves with plum fillings.

“Mother,” you sighed, not knowing how to react. You felt like a fraud. You weren’t what she thought you’d become at the castle. You weren’t some high-standing servant, near and dear to the king and queen. You were a screwup. You’d caused so much trouble since your arrival at the castle you were quite frankly surprised you hadn’t been banished yet.

You could see most of the royal gardens from here; well, the most beautiful parts anyways. There was almost no one out there today. Everyone was most likely busy preparing for the wedding except—

Minghao was strolling through the rose garden ways away from the hill you were sitting. You could see him clearly, his upper body sticking out over the bushes. Zhong Mei was beside him, wearing a white robe with some sort of lilac pattern on it. You couldn’t see the expression on their faces but the close vicinity with which they walked by each other made your stomach turn upside down. Your eyes followed the two figures until their path ventured right and a large chestnut tree obscured your view.

“Let’s just keep working,” you said, getting up as you folded your lunch back closed and slid it in your pocket.

“Tell me what’s on your mind, child.” Your mother’s voice hadn’t changed at all, croaky like a frog but filled with warmth.

You kept your back turned to her, hugging yourself close.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“My little flower,” her voice came from behind and you felt a hand land on your shoulder, “something is bothering you.”

“I’m fine.”

She chuckled at that. “Liar. I can tell by the way your shoulders hunch,” she said, turning you around to face her, “and look, your eyebrows are all droopy.”

You shook your head. “First of all, that doesn’t make any sense and besides, I don’t want to talk about it.” You knew at once it had been a vain attempt to fend off the stubborn woman. You watched her heave a deep sigh. She was shorter than you but somehow always managed to make you feel like a baby. Her wrinkled eyes scanned your face quizzically for a few seconds before her lips curled into a knowing grin.

“You need to let go, flower,” she said, poking you in the chest with a dirty finger.

You stared at her incredulously. “Let what go?”

The old woman rolled her eyes, smiling still. “Whatever it is that’s causing all of this good-for-nothing heartache!” She patted you on both shoulders. “Go on, away with it!”

A tiny smile crept its way onto your face. “It’s not that easy.”

Your mother sighed deeply once more and turned to look out over the gardens and the castle.

“I know, dear,” she said, “the castle comes with complications these gardens could never carry. That’s why me and your father stay out here, between the fruits and the flowers. You on the other hand,” she went on, turning back to you and taking your hand, “you have some reason for staying at the castle, no?”

Your face burned at the words. You didn’t know what exactly your mother was implying but the way her deep eyes bore into yours now made you feel awfully exposed.

“You can always come back to us, of course,” your mother explained further, squeezing your hand, “but if your heart lies no longer here—”

“It doesn’t matter where my heart lies,” you cut in, taking a step back, “how I feel doesn’t matter.”

Your mother’s eyes creased as they filled with something you hated to see. Was it pity? Understanding? Whatever, you didn’t need any of it. For the smallest of moments you’d thought your problems might be solved with some wise parental advice but that had clearly been a child’s thinking. This problem didn’t have solving. You just had to learn to live with the fact that Minghao was gone forever and he’d never look at you the way he had that night under the orange trees. He’d never smile at you the way he had when he taught you how to read, he’d never touch you the way he had that evening in his chambers— or even— you couldn’t bear remembering his kiss. It was too much. It should haver have happened.

“Let’s just keep going, please,” you said at last, keeping your eyes on the grass between your feet.

The rest of the day went by like a tidal wave. In a matter of hours, you’d crossed the whole of the gardens at least half a dozen times, hauling around heavy equipment, making lists, delegating tasks and making stupid amounts of mini mock-ups of the flower pieces Tou Ma had asked for. By the time you entered the castle, you were so exhausted you thought you might just crash in a closet on the way to your room. The hustle and bustle inside the castle walls had died down as well. Aside from the occasional servant, the dark hallways were deserted and quiet. Yawning freely, you shuffled your way through them, only to get startled by the sudden noise not so far away.

“Silence, son,” a voice whispered irritably, “the castle is asleep.”

“I’m sorry.”

Hao.

Without thinking, you approached a door you’d passed before. You didn’t know what lay behind it, only that, right now, it was being occupied by the emperor and his son, prince Minghao.

“You’ve heard by now the protests haven’t seized I assume. We’re losing not only the Shingmin people but all the highlands. I have tried to protect you from your destiny for far too long I’m afraid.”

There was a long pause. You felt the pain of it right through the wood of the door.

“My son,” the emperor added wearily, “I did not want to leave this country to you on the brink of war. But the season of peace has run out. You are young and overly frivolous at times but we must believe you are capable. It is time to stop thinking about yourself and take on the responsibility you’ve always known was yours to take on. You have the power to free us all. Your legend will be told for centuries to come.”

“My legend,” Minghao spoke at last. His voice was dry and void of emotion. You wanted to go to him. You wanted to help but you didn’t know how.

Krrrr

The floorboard creaked under your feet as you’d subconsciously leaned in closer to the door. There was no way they hadn’t heard that. You pushed away from the door and set off at a run, heart racing, all the way to the maid’s quarters.

Your covers were warm and your eyelids heavy but regardless, you couldn’t seem to find your way to sleep. You tossed and turned until you were sure your hair would be a rat’s nest the following morning. Your body was lying on the floor, between dozens of happily snoozing servants, but your mind was still at that door, listening in. You knew Minghao wouldn’t appreciate it but you felt sorry for him. The weight resting on his shoulders was colossal compared to the slimy toad that tended to bother yours. His legend was beyond famous. Every person in Namin knew it like they knew the color of the sky. Every person in Namin was counting on him. You could tell by the way they looked at him. He was a savior to them. But he was just a boy. You knew that. He knew that. He was a boy, desperately trying to figure out how to live up to a legend that was born with him; a boy trying to solve an impossible riddle, trying to unlock some big secret, trying to somehow heal an entire nation.

All these thoughts floated haphazardly through your head, bouncing and clashing within the walls of your skull until, sudden as a bolt of lightning, they clicked together.

A Vast Unfathomable Secret.

That’s what the book must have been for all along. You shot up from the floor, wide awake now, and set off towards the prince’s library.

It made so much sense you cursed yourself for not seeing it before. You burst through the heavy oak doors and went to light a candle. The room looked beautiful at night, moonlight shining through the circular windows, casting hazy glows on the walls of books.

You had no idea how to start. You’d searched for this book so many times. Then again, you hadn’t been able to make your way through the entire room yet. Filled with stubborn determination, you grabbed your candle tightly and climbed up to a section you hadn’t explored yet. You could read the spines now, thanks to Minghao. In this particular section alone were books about geography, fortune telling, animals and plants you’d never even heard of, as well as poetry. You were tempted to open some of them but knew you had a more important goal. You made the mental note of reading as many books as you possibly could when all of this was over; if Minghao would continue allowing you to come here, at least.

When the first section revealed nothing, you moved on to another, and then another. You’d finish off the whole room before you’d give up. You had to help the prince in any way you could; if you couldn’t be with him, at least you could still be of use to him.

When you woke up, bright sunlight was already streaming into the room generously and your body ached in all kinds of places. You immediately knew you were in trouble. You’d fallen asleep slumped against a bookcase and were now most likely extremely late for your appointment in the gardens.

Tripping over your tunic, you burst through the library doors and onto the long deck. It was a humid and hot day. Up ahead in the distance, like tiny brown specs against the vibrant green grass, were the gardeners’ huts, where you were supposed to meet with everyone to start harvesting and putting together the flower pieces for the wedding.

Oh shoot, the wedding. The wedding was tomorrow. It was actually tomorrow. Not wanting to waste any more time than you already had, you jumped over the railing and tumbled into the grass below. One of your feet landed in something wet but that didn’t matter now. You ran to the huts, not caring about how the long grass and prickly bushes dirtied your clothes, but when you finally arrived, panting like a dog, there was no one there. Instead, a note hung lifelessly on your parents’ door.

Flower We’ve gone ahead and started harvesting See you soon

A huge wave of gratitude coursed through you at those words.

Thanks mother

You raced through the gardens, catching up with everything that was going on.

Thanks to your parents, you were still somewhat on schedule. Aside from delegating tasks, you helped in creating bouquets and garlands and wreaths in rich oranges and reds, as well as deep pinks and purples. The air was sticky and dense. Sweat crawled down your temples as you worked beside your parents, but you were glad for the hard labor; it distracted you. Your nails blackened and your hair filled with twigs and pollen. It felt good. You were surprised when the sun had only just started going down as the last of the decorations got finished.

“Don’t underestimate us,” you dad said with a grand smile, “I don’t know how you fancy people do it at the castle, but we work fast.”

You smiled back at him, glad to have made it in time.

You moved the decorations to a safe place they could be preserved until the morning, which took another hour or so but after that, you were all done. Tou Ma hadn’t even given you any other tasks for the day, which meant, you were free.

All at once, an unavoidable exhaustion took over you. The hot sun and humid air had drained your body that had grown unaccustomed to the life of a gardener. Another reason was probably the fact that you’d slept propped up against a bookcase the night before. A hot bath sounded amazing right about now. And after you might even be able to take a nap? Yes, that sounded good. You needed sleep.

Sighing and panting, you dragged yourself back to the castle. Instead of the main entrance, you chose a smaller door on the left wall that was meant for servants mostly. Coming around the corner you let out a sudden gasp, finding the door blocked by a broad-shouldered man with a long scar across his cheek.

“Identify yourself,” he said sternly, looking your muddy form up and down. The side door had never been guarded before. You supposed it was another wedding-related thing.

After explaining who you were and what you’d been doing outside, the man stepped aside, grunting something inaudible as you passed. Whatever, you thought, entering a modest-looking corridor. At least you’d be able to reach the maid’s quarters without running into—

“WHAT IS THIS MESS?!”

Tou Ma.

The tall lady strode towards you, looking like an underfed but furious bull.

“Look at the floors, they have been polished just this morning and now!” her voice reached a crescendo, “look at this! You want me to seizure!?”

"I'm sorry," you blurted out, "I've been preparing the flowers and—"

"Are they done?"

"They are—"

"So something has gone right today at least! Honestly it's suffocating, all this work in so little time I swear the emperor wants me to lose my marbles I've still got so much to do, this whole thing is ridiculous! Could they move the wedding to next week so the castle can prepare to its fullest abilities? Probably but will they? No, no of course they won't that would make my job too easy, wouldn't it?!"

You were staring into the face of a deranged woman. Tou Ma was sweating the white powder right off her face, fanning herself for dear life.

"Um," you tried, once the woman seemed to be taking a break to catch her breath, "is there anything I can help with?" You regretted the offer the moment the words left your lips but you couldn't stand seeing her this way. No matter how much the vile old woman tormented you, seeing her usually strong personality weakened like this made you feel sort of bad.

Tou Ma eyed you suspiciously for a few moments before she caved.

"Very well," she said, "you will run an errand for me. In my haste I forgot to bring the empress' scarf out with the rest of her robes for the celebration. They need to bask in the moonlight tonight."

"Of course," you replied, though you had no idea what she was talking about. Wealthy people really did have all kinds of strange rituals.

"They will be in her private chambers," she went on, "I'd fetch them myself but I'm on my way to a meeting with the chef and I've yet to go over the guest list with security and her majesty will need her bath before nightfall and I haven't had a scrap to eat since sunrise and—"

"That's alright," you cut in, for the head maid was panting again, "I'll grab her scarf and bring it to the deck, I guess?"

"The south east deck on the top floor, child, that's where we're leaving them out," Tou Ma explained, clutching her chest.

"Got it," you said, turning on your heels.

"It is a scarlet thing," Tou Ma call after you, "silk with gold-thread details."

"Okay," you called back as you made your way down the corridor.

"Child!" her screechy voice cried before you could round a corner, "I beg of you, wash up first will you?"

You did as you were told and had your bath. It was not the long, relaxing bath you'd hoped for but it did manage to wash away some of the exhaustion from your body. You allowed your muscles to relax for a few minutes, hopped out and hurried towards the royal quarters. You'd only ever visited Minghao's chambers; his parent's area was completely new territory. The place was guarded heavily by men who only let you in after a thorough interrogation and once inside, you realized you had no idea of where to look for the scarf.

You were in a rectangular room with shiny, red-toned walls and floors. It was completely bare save for the golden candelabras that lined the walls. Two black and gold doors that faced each other waited for you.

Clueless, you tried the first door. You knocked twice and waited until you were sure you weren’t disrupting something. When nothing happened, you opened it. You were met with complete darkness. With a bit of a struggle, you pulled free one of the candelabras from the hallway and entered the dark room.

It was extremely minimal. There were no windows. Only a simple bookcase and a large writing desk. Scrolls of parchment and bottles of ink lay spread out across it. Seeing them made you feel suddenly feel as though you were seeing something you weren’t supposed to. This was the emperor’s private study.

Backing away fast, you found yourself in the hallway once more. You tried the room opposite the study, entering after knocking. This room was anything but dark. The whole west wall was non-existent, giving sight to stretches of grassland and the mountains up in the far distance. As the sun set, it cast a breathtaking pink veil over the master bedroom. The bed, sitting on a raised platform was impeccably made. You could just envision Tou Ma arranging the perfectly white pillows by size, making sure not a single crinkle was left in sight. The room was so clean though, you couldn’t imagine the scarf would be here. There was no closet or dresser for it to hide in either, however, there was a small doorway in the corner of the room, half-covered by a silk curtain. As you approached you smelled the sweet aroma of incense. Gently pulling back the curtain, you peered inside, finding a room that was more or less the same size as the bedroom, but which felt smaller due to the abundance of stuff that was in it.

The walls were virtually covered with dressers, all identical, ornate and black lacquered. There were ottomans in various jewel tones on which piles of discarded robes lay, and in the corner stood a intricately carved wooden vanity with a mirror that reached the ceiling.

This must be it, you thought as you entered. You carefully went through the clothes on the stools. You wished you had time to admire their craftsmanship but Tou Ma’s exasperated expression kept your mind on the mission at hand. The vanity was cluttered with all kinds of trinkets you’d never seen before. You supposed there were the creams and powders used for beauty purposes. There were a couple of small drawers that opened to reveal more beauty products and a couple of scarves that clearly weren’t the one you were looking for. You began to feel tired again. Gingerly, you sat down in front of the vanity. Gazing at yourself in the mirror it occurred to you how much you didn’t belong in a room like this. You let your eyes drift over the the reflection of the cluttered space, until they landed on something they hadn’t noticed before. There was an unlocked chest sitting in a corner by the entrance. Multiple colored fabrics were spilling out from its mouth. You rose up and hurried over. There were so many scarves it was hard to make out where one piece of fabric ended and the next began. Getting impatient, you started pulling out the contents of the chest, keeping a lookout for anything scarlet and gold. Your heart sank however as you were reaching the bottom without having found something that even remotely looked like the empress’ wedding scarf. Not before long, the chest was empty, except for something dark and solid that lay all the way at the bottom, and bunches of fabric lay all around you on the floor.

What were you going to do? You’d promised Tou Ma.

Sighing, you peered into the chest. You now noticed the leftover item was a small book. You knew you should leave it alone; this was clearly an item the empress liked to keep to herself, but your curiosity got the better of you. You pulled the book out of the chest and held it up to the light. It was a small book, the brown leather cover a bit tethered and the gold writing on the front slightly faded. The golden lily, however, was still unmistakable.

You heart lurched as the title registered in your mind.

A Vast Unfathomable Secret.

It was right here in your hands; exactly as Minghao had described it. What wisdom was inside this little, brown book? And why was it here, in the empress’ wardrobe of all places? Nevermind. You forced your questions behind closed doors. None of those things mattered right now.

This was it: your chance to help Minghao.

You were at his door in no time and in your haste, you didn't even pause to knock before coming in.

"Minghao, I found it! I f—" you gasped as something warm crashed into you, sending you to the floor.

Minghao stood over you with a blank stare on his face. The coldness in his eyes sent a pang of doubt through your system. You shouldn’t have barged in like this. What were you thinking? Just as you were about to apologize and leave however, his eyes landed on the book clutched tightly in your hand. They widened, his eyebrows crinkling slightly, his lips opening in stunned silence.

"I found your book," you tried again, barely able to look at him.

Nothing happened for a good few seconds in which you wondered whether Minghao had fallen in some sort of trance, but then he knelt down beside you and took your hand. Your heart leapt as he pulled you up. His hand was so warm.

“You—” he said, staring from you, to the book held between you and then right back up to you. You noticed his eyes start to burn with intense emotion. He looked happy at first but you soon realized there was much more than joy behind his expression. He stared at you unblinkingly, standing perfectly still as a statue, but clearly waging a violent war within himself. You thought for a moment he might cry, his eyes turning sadder and sadder until, to your surprise, his lips formed the tiniest smile and he let out a sigh. You had not a moment to react to this strange turn of events because the next thing he did was grab tight hold of both your arms and kiss you.

This was nothing like the kiss you’d shared in the gardens. This kiss was the unleashing of desire. He held you close as his lips claimed yours with desperation. He did not let go when you thought he would and neither did you want him to. The book lay forgotten on the floor as, at last, you were all his. You felt his hand move up to your face, brushing a bit of your hair back, then cupping you by the back of the neck, begging you to stay close for those few last moments before, inevitably, reality struck.

He pulled back abruptly, looking completely stunned.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he said, his face swiftly filling with hurt again.

“Hao,” you replied, out of breath yourself, “wait,” because the prince was already pushing past you.

“I have the final wedding rehearsal,” he said, hurrying out the room before you could do anything to stop him.

You stood with yourself in quiet for quite some time, staring at the door.

Emotions were starting to bubble up inside you but you were so sick and tired of crying you forced your tears at bay by focusing on the only thing that could possibly distract you right now.

The book was still on the floor and now, it was begging to be read.

You sat down on the floor and picked it up. It didn’t feel heavy at all. You always imagined the book Minghao had been looking for would be huge; some grand exposition of wisdom. Maybe battle techniques? Or secret information on dragons, perhaps? But what could a tiny book like this one do to save an empire, or in the least, its prince? Heart pounding, you opened it, only to stare in confusion at something that made no sense to you at all.

Once upon a time, it read.

Once upon a time, there was a mountain. On that mountain stood a castle so tall it could reach the clouds in the sky and in it lived the great ruler. The ruler was very proud of his castle, because it stood taller than any other castle. The inhabitants of the castle sometimes complained about the cold winds that blew through the windows. They muddled up their long hair and blew away their paperwork. But of course this was all worth the magnificent views they got when they looked outside, according to the ruler. At the bottom of the mountain was a cave that lead to a whole underground town. In that town lived many people. Their days were clouded in darkness but the earth around them kept them warm and safe. One night, the ruler’s son was asleep when the wind whooshed right into his bedroom. It picked him up like a newborn baby and took him out through the window. The son shouted and cried for help but no one could hear him over the raging wind. The little boy shrieked all the way down until the wind plopped him down unto the grass. There he continued to cry in the darkness, helplessly, for no one would be able to hear him so far down. Little did the boy know, someone did hear him cry. All the way down in the cave town, a girl was sitting up in bed, wondering what that whining noise was. Curious, she crawled through the tunnels of her town, following the strange sound until she was at the mouth of the cave and saw the boy sitting in the grass. “What’s wrong?” she asked the boy. The boy jumped up at the sight of the girl, his cheeks flushing. “I fell down,” he answered. “From all the way up there?” the girl asked with big eyes. “Of course,” the boy said, “where else would I come from?” “I live in the ground,” the girl said, “how strange is this?” The boy and girl sat together in the grass, talking about their homes all night. The boy explained how cold his room was, and how the wind took his toys away from him, tales to which the girl hollered in disbelief. She then told him that she couldn’t even see her toys because it was so dark in her house and the boy laughed at how silly that was. When the sun came up the boy and the girl noticed a black dot in the sky. They watched as the dot grew bigger and bigger until the boy recognized his father. He was hanging from a big balloon that was slowly letting him down to the ground. “What is this?!” he bellowed when he noticed the girl. “She is my new friend,” replied the boy with a big smile, “she lives in a cave.” Just then, murmurings roused from the mouth of the cave. People emerged from it, chattering to one another until they set their eyes upon the scene in the grass. “What is this?!” they all cried at once. “He is my friend from the mountain,” said the girl, eyes sparkling, “the wind brought him to me.” The ruler and the cave people were outraged. It was plain as day that people from the castle shouldn’t get along with people who lived underground. “You should be ashamed of yourself!” shouted the ruler. “It’s a disgrace!” the cavetowners roared. The ruler grabbed his son by the arm and tied him to his big balloon, just as the cave dwellers took hold of the girl, dragging her back into the dark. Days and weeks and months passed and the boy and the girl didn’t meet, at least, that was the people around them thought. Every night, the boy crawled onto his father’s balloon while everyone else was asleep and drifted down below, where the girl would greet him with a smile and they would spend a wonderful time. Over time, the boy felt something grow within him; it was a secret. It started small as a little firefly, hovering around his empty chest. But by the time the boy was as tall as his father, the secret had become so vast and unfathomable, it was like a fiery blaze that enveloped him entirely. At any moment, he felt the secret might burst free. He could not let that happen. It frightened the boy so much, he began to keep his lips shut tight. When people around him spoke, he just stood by and watched. When his father asked him a question he simply nodded or shrugged. Only at night, when he ran free with the girl, did he open his mouth. The most beautiful sounds spilled out, laughter and song and shouts of glee. As he did so, he felt the secret grow and grow but he did not care in the night; he did not care how the inferno within him swelled against the confines of his body, how it roared on inside, begging to break free. As much as the boy ignored these happenings, like all secrets, break free, it did. He felt it rumble in his stomach first, then move up towards his throat, just as he’d sat down for breakfast. He clasped his neck in surprise. He wanted to shout at the people around him to hide, for the secret was surely coming, but not a second later, it exploded from his lips like a flaming tornado. It took over the room in an instant. Soon, the whole castle was set aflame. People cried for help but they were too far up for anyone to hear. They crawled up on the roof, shouting to the clouds in desperation but no one called back. Trapped by the flames, the boy knew only one thing to do. He heaved himself over the ledge of the dining room window and looked down. In a voice as loud as he could muster, he called for the girl. His ears picked up something of a reply but he couldn’t be sure; after all, the fire around him crackled obnoxiously loud. But she must be there, he thought, she would never abandon him. Gathering all his courage he leaned over the edge and let go, falling away from the castle and his father and the people who didn’t understand, towards the arms of freedom, where there was no need for secrets, where he was alright, just the way he was.

The book trembled in your hands as you finished the story. This was nothing like you’d imagined A Vast Unfathomable Secret to be about. So many things ran through your mind but right at the forefront was, overwhelmingly, Minghao. Minghao, Minghao, Minghao. All this time, you thought the book would reveal some kind of clever solution to help him save Namin. In the end, the book had revealed nothing more than his heart.

You knew you weren’t supposed to be here. You were probably supposed to check in with Tou Ma and help prepare for the celebration but you couldn’t do that. You had to see him, even if it meant watching him from the sidelines as he ran through his final wedding rehearsal. You were half hidden behind a wooden pillar, feeling as if your knees might give out. Minghao walked aside his mother to the front of the room, where a tall monk waited on a raised platform. The room wasn’t decorated properly yet but it had been filled with so much candlelight, the whole thing looked enchanting nonetheless. Zhong Mei came out as well, skin glowing in the warm firelight. She joined Minghao on the platform, facing him. There was a bit of a pause as Mei’s parents did some fervent explaining to the monk. The spectators in the room began murmuring amongst themselves. Your eyes never left Minghao though. He looked nervous. His cool mask wasn’t sliding on as easy as usual. He looked down for a long time before starting to scan the room. A shiver ran up your spine when his eyes suddenly met yours. He was quick to look away though. It seemed like Mei was saying something to him then because he nodded awkwardly at her in reply, though he couldn’t look at her.

Finally, Mei’s parents stepped aside and the monk stepped forward. He cleared his throat as he straightened out his robe, ready to start his speech.

BANG

A thunderous crashing sound broke the silence and the whole room shook.

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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I am grinning like a FOOL at nmj/wwx/lwj. Aaaaaahhh just imagine the looks on everyone’s faces ESPECIALLY the jins, can you IMAGINE. Every sect except their own has entered a marriage alliance in one swoop, and that marriage alliance includes three of the most powerful cultivators alive. I’m in love with this.

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, past 5 - aka Pastime (with good company)

“I can forgive you for getting married, but not for making me tell Uncle about it,” Lan Xichen said without ceremony as he swept into the room like a puff of aggravated white cloud – and yes, he was well aware that was how he was coming off, he had plenty of self-awareness. Besides, it wasn’t as if he was actually upset anymore; he hadn’t seen so many secret little smiles from Lan Wangji since their childhood. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him turn that shade of red before. I think he was even thinking of throwing something at me!”

“Did you mention the bit where it technically fulfilled his requirements regarding devoting to a single spouse?” Nie Mingjue asked from behind his teacup, eyes bright with amusement and not even a speck of shame. It was just like him, too; Nie Mingjue was not one to regret decisions he had made. “Huaisang mentioned that you’d said that: I rather liked that one.”

“I did,” Lan Xichen said, making a face at Nie Mingjue and causing him to laugh. “It didn’t help. As you probably could have guessed, you – oh! A-Yao, be careful, you’re spilling the tea.”

Jin Guangyao looked down at where he’d filled his teacup to overflowing. “Ah,” he said, and put the teapot down, reaching for a piece of cloth to clean up the mess on the table. “Forgive me, I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing…I’m sorry, er-ge, did you say that da-ge was marrying? And you – told your uncle about it, for some reason?”

“Well, there wasn’t much of a choice,” Lan Xichen sighed, sitting down and accepting the cup of tea that Nie Mingjue slid over to him instead. “Since one of his brides is going to be my brother.”

“Your brother? You mean – Wangji? And - one of his brides…?”

“He only has the one brother; who else could he mean?” Nie Mingjue pointed out, and Lan Xichen shot him a glare to remind him to behave – it wasn’t Jin Guangyao’s fault that he probably had more siblings than he could count on both hands and feet, after all.

“Yes,” he said, turning to Jin Guangyao. “Forgive me, A-Yao, I entirely forgot you weren’t at the Unclean Realm when this was all being discussed at the start. As it stands now, Da-ge will be taking two brides to share the position of first wife, one of which is my brother.”

Jin Guangyao was blinking very rapidly, clearly attempting to process the information and just as clearly having some difficulty. Possibly at the idea of Nie Mingjue getting married at all, much less in a cutsleeve marriage – in fact, Lan Xichen wasn’t sure he’d ever mentioned to him that Lan Wangji was a cutsleeve.

Did Jin Guangyao maybe have some lingering prejudices? It seemed unlikely, given what Lan Xichen knew of his personality, but such issues were more often seen among the common people…

“I see,” Jin Guangyao said. “And…who’s the other one?”

“Wei Wuxian,” Nie Mingjue said, and he looked so incredibly pleased about it that Lan Xichen reluctantly shelved the idea of scolding him further. A smile from Lan Wangji, a smile from Wei Wuxian, a smile from Nie Mingjue – anything that caused this many smiles was bound to be a good thing.

Even if poor Jin Guangyao’s smile did look a bit strained…

“He’s what?!”

Jin Guangyao held his hands apart as if to indicate he had no idea how it had happened either, and Jin Zixuan thought that for once in his life his duplicative half-brother might be completely and utterly sincere. “He confirmed it himself.”

“Wei Wuxian,” Jin Guangshan growled, having apparently decided to skip over shock in favor of paranoid theorizing. “Of course – all this time, Nie Mingjue pretended to disdain the Stygian Tiger seal, looking down on it, but in reality he was seeking his own means of obtaining it –”

Jin Zixuan didn’t think that was especially likely.

He’d fought with Nie Mingjue during the war as one of his lieutenants. Even though his father had insisted that the Jin sect fight under its own banner, it’d quickly become obvious that none of the generals his father had appointed had the slightest idea of what they were doing, unlike Nie Mingjue; to keep his people from enduring another slaughter, Jin Zixuan had forced himself to swallow his pride and ask Nie Mingjue for advice.

The other man had never once lorded it over him, even though Jin Zixuan was in the weaker position – his letters had been straightforward and to the point, answering his questions without any judgment, and when they worked together in person, he was the same.

Jin Zixuan had spent entire nights worrying about his motives, and a shamefully long time to realize that the reason Nie Mingjue was acting the way he did was because he was just – like that. Honest and forthright and disinclined towards scheming, the way everyone said he was; a man who was righteous in the sense that he did what he thought was right, not in the sense of flattering himself to think he was better than others.

(Somewhere along the line, Jin Zixuan had shifted from choking down his pride to choking down guilt at thinking that Nie Mingjue was a better leader than his father – and that he’d probably have been a better father, too, no matter how Nie Huaisang had ultimately turned out. He thought, though he did not know, that if he had not adopted some of Nie Mingjue’s straightforwardness in pursuing Jiang Yanli, she might not be his bride today.)

“ – why didn’t any of us think of that?” Jin Guangshan was demanding when Jin Zixuan tuned back into the conversation, and it made him nearly choke. “A-Xuan! What sounds are you making over there?”

“Nothing, father,” Jin Zixuan said, coughing a little to clear his throat. “Merely – admiring how unorthodox Chifeng-zun’s thinking must have been.”

Jin Guangyao’s lips twitched. It was only a second, there and gone, but Jin Zixuan had still seen the little glimpse of humor. It was truly a pity, he reflected, that his brother wanted his position more than his friendship; they might have been good friends, in another world. Of course, that was the way things went in Lanling, with each person out for themselves, but ever since he’d married Jiang Yanli, he’d started to think that perhaps the greedy, grasping, conniving world his father had cultivated around him wasn’t the right way to lead a sect.

He used to think that the Jin sect was better than everyone else because of the way they thought – that only they were honest enough to acknowledge the frailties in human nature and to make use of them, rather than pretending that people could really be brave and righteous and true, that friendship was a real thing rather than another name for allies of convenience, that love was anything more than a momentary lapse, a weakness – but he didn’t any more. The other righteous sects might be naïve in their belief in righteousness, but believing in righteousness encouraged righteous behavior; even if it was done only as a façade, for most people, the façade would eventually turn into truth after it became enough of a habit.

For most people, anyway.

Jin Zixuan had done his best to like his new brother – upstanding war hero that he was – but he couldn’t quite manage it. He was too familiar with people who came to him with gentle smiles that hid daggers, and his mother, while far too vicious, was unfortunately right that those who shared his parentage all seemed to have their eyes fixed firmly on his position. Jin Guangyao might pretend that he didn’t, but some of the moves he’d made were a little too obviously meant to be consolidations of power: courting the Qin girl, being friendly with certain dissatisfied factions…

Jin Zixuan heard that Jin Guangyao had once been Nie Mingjue’s deputy, wearing a façade of righteousness, and their current enmity had been birthed once the other man had seen what he was really like.

It seemed like a bad trade to him, scrabbling for scraps in Lanling instead of being respected as a man in Qinghe, but he supposed he was in no position to judge. He’d had all the advantages in the world given to him at his birth, and he’d still taken so very long to figure out that righteousness was actually worth something by itself.

His father was still ranting about Wei Wuxian, with his half-brother indulging him with nods and questions that didn’t achieve anything other than making his father feel good about himself for having guessed right, and eventually Jin Zixuan was sick enough of it to feel the need to divert the conversation.

“Whatever his motives may be for marrying Wei Wuxian,” he said, “surely those reasons don’t apply to Hanguang-jun, who possesses no secret power to be obtained. It’s not as though the Nie sect needs a connection to the Lan sect – Chifeng-zun is already sworn brothers with Zewu-jun.”

He paused, deliberately, then added, as if in afterthought, “And A-Yao, of course.”

Jin Guangyao might have mastered the ways of the mistress, sweetness and support and indulgence to win favor, but Jin Zixuan had grown up with a mother that had never allowed an infamously straying husband to bring home a single concubine – if Jin Guangyao thought a few tricks were enough to get his position, he was only dreaming.

Jin Zixuan would help him wake up.

“Do you think it’s that he doesn’t like A-Xian enough to marry just him?” Jiang Yanli asked, biting her lip, but her husband shook his head with a laugh.

“My father couldn’t think of a reason either,” he said, looking arrogant and smug in that charming sort of way he had when he was happy. “The only thing he could come up with after hours and hours was that he might be some sort of pretty flower vase meant as a consolation for having to marry the Yiling Patriarch.”

“But you don’t think that.”

“Of course not. Chifeng-zun is a good man, and even if he wasn’t, he’s old friends with Zewu-jun, who would never allow anything like that.”

Jiang Yanli conceded the point, but that still didn’t explain why. She’d known, of course, of Jiang Cheng’s desperate gamble to protect Wei Wuxian and keep him in the Jiang sect in some manner – technically not, since he’d be under the protection of the Nie sect going forward, but this way at least made sure that he’d always have his family backing. She’d even hoped, based on some things Jiang Cheng had said to her, that Wei Wuxian was happy with the marriage, looking forward to it.

But why would Nie Mingjue take a second wife – no, another first wife – at the same time? Wasn’t that looking down at her brother?

“Personally, my theory is that he just didn’t want to get cuckolded,” Jin Zixuan said, playing with her hair. “So he took precautions against it.”

“Cuckolded?” she asked, and she could feel him turn red – her husband was sensitive about such things, a remnant of his unhappy childhood. He was terrified that she might start to suspect him of crimes he hadn’t yet committed (as if he wasn’t a terrible enough liar that she’d know at once anyway if he’d really done anything), and he usually avoided any discussion of infidelity like the plague. She wasn’t letting him off this time, though, not if Wei Wuxian’s happiness was at stake. “What do you mean? A-Xian wouldn’t betray someone he’d sworn himself to.”

Not without a good reason, anyway. The way Wei Wuxian had been behaving recently towards Jiang Cheng – towards the Jiang sect generally, especially after the business with the Wen sect remnants – could almost make her think terrible things, and only the fact she loved her brother as blindly as she did could make her unswerving in her faith that there was some purpose behind his seemingly cruel behavior.

“Probably not,” Jin Zixuan agreed. “But I mean – come on. I didn’t notice it when I was younger, because I was an idiot back then –”

He said it, not her.

“– but Wei Wuxian chased after Lan Wangji the entire time we were at the Wen indoctrination camp together. Same way I chased after you, actually.”

“With no grace or tact or knowledge of women?” she teased, and he blushed and rubbed his cheek against hers.

“Well, yes,” he said. “But I got you in the end, didn’t I?”

That was a good point.

Jiang Yanli hadn’t seen them interacting enough to really judge – convention separating men from women the way it did – but Wei Wuxian had spoken of Lan Wangji rather a lot after his time studying in the Cloud Recesses. It was certainly a plausible guess.

“So you think Sect Leader Nie married Hanguang-jun for what reason?” she asked. “To keep A-Xian from pursing him?”

“Common wisdom in Lanling says that if it’s not to create connections, then there’s only two reasons for a man to take a concubine,” Jin Zixuan said with a shrug. “One is to keep the man company – the other’s to give company to his wife.”

Jiang Yanli’s eyebrows shot up. “Company for his wife?”

“Why not? Men and women move in different circles – if a man is worried his wife might be thinking of looking for company outside, it’s better to get her someone who will be by her side all the time, isn’t it?”

Jiang Yanli covered her mouth to hide her laughter. “I suppose so,” she said. “Please don’t get me company in the future, though; I’m quite capable of making friends on my own.”

“And I,” her husband said, perking up at once, “of keeping you too busy to even think about other company –”

“You really think it’s all right?” Jiang Cheng asked Jiang Yanli. He trusted his sister’s judgment, but he was still worried. “I don’t want Wei Wuxian to think he has to suffer in silence –”

Jiang Yanli patted his shoulder. “A-Cheng, think about what you’re saying. I’m not saying A-Xian wouldn’t suffer, but – in silence?”

“If he thought it might hurt one of us he would,” Jiang Cheng said stubbornly. “This was my idea, and you know he’s worried about messing up your relationship with Jin Zixuan by starting too much trouble, especially with the Jin sect being the first one to jump down his throat about it. And anyway, he wasn’t chasing after Lan Wangji! He was – he –”

He frowned. He’d always thought that they disliked each other – certainly Lan Wangji’s constantly cold expression didn’t suggest he enjoyed Wei Wuxian’s teasing, although Wei Wuxian did spend an awful lot of time planning out pranks centered around Lan Wangji in specific. Or even, as Jiang Yanli had pointed out, just talking about him.

Which he did. A lot.

“What if Lan Wangji doesn’t like him back?” he asked, suddenly consumed with a brand new worry. “If Chifeng-zun goes to all that trouble for Wei Wuxian, and gets his hopes up, and then it turns out that Lan Wangji really doesn’t like him –”

“I’m sure Sect Leader Nie must have thought it over carefully before he took any action,” Jiang Yanli said. “A-Xuan tells me that he’s a good person, a good leader, and a good general – he must have a plan. Don’t you think?”

“Well, he is all that,” Jiang Cheng admitted. He wouldn’t have been so confident in his plan to marry Wei Wuxian into the Nie sect if Nie Mingjue hadn’t been as righteous as his reputation. But still…

“Why don’t you see what Wei Wuxian thinks about it?” she suggested, quite reasonably. “And anyway, he’ll still need a chaperone for their next visit, and the seasonal floods are over – you could go supervise.”

Jiang Cheng brightened. His older sister always had the best ideas. “What would I do without you?” he asked, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

She laughed. “Starve, probably. Would you like some more soup?”

“Of course! Remind me, why am I letting you go off to Lanling again..?”

#mdzs #nie mingjue #lan xichen #jin guangyao #jin zixuan #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #my fic #my fics #pasttime in good company #Anonymous

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