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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Delight in Misery

- Chapter 10 (ao3) -

tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 (interlude), part 9

In Lan Wangji’s view, the best part about the upcoming visit by Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen wasn’t the excuse to drag a tetchy and reluctant Jiang Cheng night-hunting, nor the chance to meet such interesting and swiftly famous cultivators, or even the vanishingly rare opportunity to learn more about Wei Wuxian by exploring his heritage on his mother’s side.

No – it was definitely the way the mere concept transformed Jiang Cheng into a stuttering teenaged admirer about to see their revered idol for the first time.

“You remember that they are both nearly ten years your junior?” he asked as Jiang Cheng fussed around, alternating between worrying himself sick for not being prepared to receive guests (for all that the Jiang sect had been receiving honored guests for years at this point) and bragging about the exploits of their soon-arriving guests to the fascinated flock of children dogging his heels.

“No more than seven or eight at most,” Jiang Cheng objected, and Lan Wangji rolled his eyes. “Anyway, that’s not the point. Look at how accomplished they both are! When I was that age, I hadn’t done anything!”

Lan Wangji didn’t think that was entirely right. When Jiang Cheng had been the age Xiao Xingcheng and Song Zichen were now, he’d endured the loss of his sect and rebuilt it from nothing, acting more or less singlehandedly while still finding time to fight the Wen sect shoulder-to-shoulder with the other Great Sects and also search for the missing Wei Wuxian with Lan Wangji.

He opted not to mention it.

Let Jiang Cheng keep his illusions and ignore the steady encroachment of time.

“You’re calling me old in your head,” Jiang Cheng said accusingly, and Lan Wangji pasted an innocent expression on his face as confirmation. “You are, you bastard! You know you’re older than me, right?”

Lan Wangji could get a great deal of out of an admission like that.

“That’s not what I meant! We’re peers, you…!” Jiang Cheng huffed. “Listen, you’d better be on your best behavior around our guests, all right? I don’t want them to be scared off just because it looks like you’re glowering whenever you think –”

“I’ll follow your example, then, and simply not think at all.”

“Go jump off a pier!”

The children all giggled.

“You’re all going to be on best behavior too,” Jiang Cheng told them, fierce as a hissing domestic cat and just as adorably toothless. “You hear me? All of you! A-Yuan, A-Ling, that means you’re going to be cute but not spoiled, while A-Yu can – actually, just do the same as them in an age-appropriate way, you’re cute enough –”

Mo Xuanyu beamed.

“Still, we don’t know what they’re like. Start by being a little reserved – not too loud –”

Lan Sizhui waved for attention as if they were in a classroom.

“…yes?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking vaguely resigned and grumpy in a way that was clearly meant to conceal how unbearably charming he found the gesture.

“Can I be called Sizhui this time?” Lan Sizhui asked eagerly. “I’m old enough!”

Jiang Cheng frowned a bit, and Lan Wangji understood. The Jiang sect generally didn’t use courtesy names until the child in question had mastered a full sword routine, usually age eight or nine, and close family almost never made the switch in full; from what Lan Wangji knew, Jiang Yanli had called Jiang Cheng ‘A-Cheng’ right up until the end of her life, not to mention referring routinely to Wei Wuxian, who she’d only met when he was already old enough to use his courtesy name, as ‘A-Xian’. The Lan sect, in contrast, started using courtesy names almost exclusively once a child was old enough to leave his parents, typically age three or four – Lan Wangji had been calling Lan Sizhui by name for years already, and had been needling Jiang Cheng to pick it up as well without success.

“I’ll introduce you,” Lan Wangji offered, saving Jiang Cheng the awkwardness of having to explain or decline or, worst of all for someone like Jiang Cheng, accidentally slip up and say something sappy like you’ll always be A-Yuan to me.

Lan Sizhui nodded, satisfied, and next to him, Jin Ling frowned. “What about me?” he asked. “Am I going to be Rulan?”

“The Jin sect is the last of the Great Sects in using courtesy names,” Jiang Cheng said, finally on more solid ground. “Not until you get your sword, and that’s not until you’re eleven. Or twelve!”

“But I already have a sword…”

“The age you would be if you were getting your own,” Lan Wangji interjected. “To make it fair to all the rest.”

That seemed to reassure Jin Ling, who nodded. “Good,” he grumbled. “I don’t wanna be Rulan, anyway…jiujiu, when did you say these guests would be arriving?”

That, of course, sent Jiang Cheng back into a flurry of activity, and Lan Wangji shook his head, long-suffering. “You’ve hosted entire discussion conferences,” he pointed out to Jiang Cheng. “There are only two cultivators this time. It is far easier.”

“Is it?” Jiang Cheng shot back. “Is it really?”

In contrast to the expectation and build up leading up to it, the actual arrival of Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen was rather unremarkable. They arrived just as the sun was setting, two young men, one beautiful and the other handsome, both valiant heroes with faces that shone with kindness and righteousness. Xiao Xingchen’s face was curved in a gentle smile, Song Zichen set in a neutral expression. Both seemed sincere and respectful when they bowed deeply in greeting.

“It’s a pleasure and honor to host such heroes,” Jiang Cheng said, nodding his head regally in return. He really had at some point learned how to fake being a competent and confident sect leader, and it might have even had the effect he was going for if it wasn’t for the small gaggle of children very eagerly stealing peeks from next to him – but Lan Wangji wasn’t going to be the one to tell on them. “I’ve heard many stories of your adventures, and I have long looked forward to meeting you in person. My Lotus Pier is open to you for as long as you require.”

“Sect Leader Jiang is upright and straightforward, well known for his righteousness,” Xiao Xingchen said, and perhaps only Lan Wangji knew precisely why Jiang Cheng flushed with such pleasure at a compliment more commonly applied to Nie Mingjue. “We are happy to be here as your guests.”

Jiang Cheng nodded a second time, still a little stiff and wooden. “You have traveled quite a distance. Are you tired or hungry..?”

They shook their heads in refusal.

Jiang Cheng darted a glance at Lan Wangji, then turned back to them, finally relaxing out of the excess formality that suited Jin Guangshan far more than it did Jian Cheng. “In that case,” he said, his voice a little dry. “Upon the suggestion of certain of my advisors, would you prefer to cut the boring small talk and go out on a night-hunt instead?”

Xiao Xingchen’s face split into a genuine smile, and even Song Zichen’s severity seemed a little eased.

“What an excellent idea, Sect Leader Jiang,” Xiao Xingchen said warmly. “We’d be happy to. I was just telling Song Zichen not long ago that it seemed as though we hadn’t been on a proper hunt in far too long.”

“You think you have problems, try being a sect leader,” Jiang Cheng replied impulsively, then turned red when he realized how rude he’d just been. “That is, I mean – well, there’s not nearly as much free time, that’s all.”

Xiao Xingchen laughed. It gave Lan Wangji a good impression of him: light-hearted and lively, his demeanor kind and good-humored. Despite the lack of blood relation, Lan Wangji was reminded of Wei Wuxian – although perhaps that was just his wistful thinking.

“Well, there’s a reason Zichen and I haven’t started our own just yet,” he said mischievously. “There’s time for that later, after all. Youth is when you make a name for yourself! And speaking of which, I’ve heard plenty about your own prowess, Sandu Shengshou. I admit I’m looking forward to seeing Zidian in action.”

Jiang Cheng looked unbearably pleased at the compliment, clearly sincerely meant, and something in Lan Wangji’s heart that he hadn’t even known was tense finally eased.

He hadn’t realized that he himself was nervous about this meeting – less for his own sake, although he burned with curiosity to learn everything he could about Wei Wuxian, than for Jiang Cheng, who had longed for this meeting so much, cared so much. Lan Wangji found to his bemusement that he had even been a little afraid: afraid that the two strangers would be cold or arrogant, afraid that they’d reject Jiang Cheng tentative overtures of friendship – that Jiang Cheng would be disappointed.

Lan Wangji might enjoy teasing Jiang Cheng into a frenzy, but that was his prerogative. In fact, one could argue that it was only what he was due for having lived with and put up with the man for so long. He’d been the one who’d been there all this time, the one who’d put in so much effort to help rebuild him back into the man he could be rather than the wreck he had been; he’d earned the right to mock him.

No one else was entitled to so much as touch the hem of his robes.

“I have heard much of your matchless skill as well, Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said, his voice unexpectedly deep, and Lan Wangji’s attention came back to him as he returned the man’s salute. They both had reputations for being closed-mouthed ice-blocks, and it seemed to Lan Wangji that Song Zichen was probably just reserved, like him, rather than truly standoffish.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” Jiang Cheng said with a faint smirk. “Whether in sword or music, few can match Hanguang-jun’s talents, and he never stints on displaying them.”

To the untried ear, perhaps Jiang Cheng sounded bitter or jealous, and given his competitive mania he probably was, a little, but to Lan Wangji he sounded more smug than anything else, as proud as if he were the one being praised.

With everything settled, they headed off at once.

The subject of the night-hunt was nothing terribly exciting – a troop of fierce corpses ravaging the countryside that someone had finally managed to divine the location of, with the only interesting aspect about them being that they were unusually fast-moving – so there was plenty of time for them to talk as they followed the trail.

Lan Wangji expected Jiang Cheng to start asking questions about the immortal mountain and Wei Wuxian’s mother at once – Jiang Cheng might be prideful and thin-faced, prone to shame and overthinking, but he’d been raised along Wei Wuxian, who was second to none in shamelessness, and Lan Wangji was well aware of how much he hungered for that knowledge.

Of course, probably as a direct result of Lan Wangji’s expectations, Jiang Cheng went for a completely different target.

“It’s said that we live in an age of young heroes,” he remarked, seemingly casual. “Of course, for most of us, that was simply the inevitable result of war – crisis demands the best from people, regardless of age. Without such necessity to spur us onwards, most of us probably would’ve been still kicking our heels even now, whereas you two became heroes as soon as you arrived…how old are you now, again?”

“We are both twenty-one,” Song Zichen said, and Lan Wangji used the moment to glare over at Jiang Cheng when he mouthed six years at him – was this really the time to quibble over something as pointless as the exact age gap between them, which he’d clearly inquired about for no other purpose than to prove Lan Wangji’s earlier assumption wrong? This was Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle here! They should be getting all the information out of him that they could!

(Lan Wangji had long ago decided that when it came to feuding over minor matters with Jiang Cheng, he would be as gracious in defeat as his opponent…which was to say, not at all.)

Jiang Cheng smirked at him, knowing what he was thinking, but then – finally – turned the subject onto the immortal mountain, or more specifically its former disciples.

This time it was Song Zichen’s turn to relax minutely, Lan Wangji noticed. A moment’s thought revealed the reason: they’d probably feared cultivators asking questions that were far more pointed than what they were getting from them – cultivators greedy for the secrets of immortality. No wonder they so assiduously avoided being hosted by the Great Sects, and had done so even before Lanling Jin had gotten in the way of their heroism.

Well, luckily for them, the interest Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji had was a little more…down to earth.

“Cangse Sanren was a talent to shake the ages,” Xiao Xingchen said, his eyes bright and expression enthusiastic. “It was as if anything she turned her mind to, she excelled at, and she turned her mind to all sorts of things without discrimination – painting, poetry, swordsmanship…” He paused, then firmed his shoulders. “I heard that her son was much the same..?”

Lan Wangji felt a smile want to come up to his lips.

It seemed that Xiao Xingchen was just as interested in finding out more about his martial nephew as they were in finding out more about Wei Wuxian’s martial uncle.

Jiang Cheng glanced over at Lan Wangji, who nodded very shallowly, indicating his approval. In his judgment, both of them seemed safe enough: trustworthy, and not like people who would spread gossip.

They could talk about Wei Wuxian.

Talk truly about him, praising his good points and speaking fondly of his faults…these two, Lan Wangji thought, wouldn’t judge them harshly for failing to condemn him, and they wouldn’t tell anyone else, either.

Later, after they’d finished dispatching the ghouls – and the Wei Wuxian portion of the conversation, for which Jiang Cheng had taken the lead and which a listening Lan Wangji had enjoyed tremendously, largely on account of Xiao Xingchen’s genuine enthusiasm for learning everything he could about the martial nephew he had only just barely missed meeting, fearsome Yiling Patriarch or not – Jiang Cheng finally and regretfully brought them back to the original subject.

“I heard that you two are collecting allies to go after Xue Yang,” he said, and pretended (just as Lan Wangji did) to ignore the way Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen suddenly glanced at each other. “I’ll support that, of course. From everything I’ve heard, he’s become a mad dog, trying to bite anyone he sees. Hasn’t he been launching all sorts of raids on sects left and right these past few years?”

They nodded.

“Rather pointless ones,” Song Zichen said, a deep frown on his face. “He runs in and causes chaos, then flees into the night – he barely even stops to kill people, and almost never steals treasures. At most he goes to make trouble by defacing the walls of some of the ancestral tombs…we can see no sense in it. The only explanation is that his demonic cultivation has in fact driven him mad.”

Demonic cultivation didn’t necessarily drive a person mad. That was something Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng had painfully learned over the years, much to Jiang Cheng’s distress. However, it certainly didn’t help maintain calmness or peace of mind; there was every chance that a delinquent like Xue Yang had had his temperament worsened by demonic cultivation, leading to his present circumstances.

“Indeed,” Jiang Cheng said noncommittally. “I really have only question for you, then.”

Knowing where this was going, Lan Wangji turned his gaze on their guests’ expression.

“Haven’t you been chasing him on your own for all these years now, trying to get him to go to trial for his crimes, refusing any offers of help?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice suddenly pointed. “Why the sudden change in favor of asking for help now?”

Xiao Xingchen and Song Zichen shared another long look between them.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen cleared his throat. “In truth,” he said, “we spread that rumor as a smokescreen. We’re not looking for allies, generally speaking…we really only wanted a reason to ask for your help.”

Jiang Cheng stopped and stared, visibly surprised. Lan Wangji kept his expression more neutral, but privately he was just as taken aback; when they’d discussed this earlier, planning out this conversation in advance, that wasn’t even remotely one of the possibilities they’d considered.

“My help?” Jiang Cheng asked cautiously. “Or…?”

“Yours and Hanguang-jun,” Song Zichen said. “We weren’t sure who else to turn to.”

“What’s the issue?” Jiang Cheng asked, waving a hand to halt their forward progress. A good idea, in Lan Wangji’s view: it was the middle of the night, and they were in the middle of the forest in the back hills near the Lotus Pier, with no one around for a good distance except for trusted Jiang sect disciples – if there needed to be privacy for this discussion, this was the best place for it.

Another shared glance.

Lan Wangji slanted a glance of his own to Jiang Cheng, who returned it: they’d been right, there really was something unusual with this visit.

They stood in silence for a while.

Finally, Xiao Xingchen yielded. “Very well,” he said, and met Jiang Cheng’s eyes. “Sect Leader Jiang…can you tell us what you know about the Ghost General?”

Jiang Cheng stiffened, his fists clenching.

Lan Wangji’s heart felt just as stiff. He stepped forward.

“There are many people who can tell you about Wen Ning,” he said neutrally, watching them carefully. “Assuming that what you wish to know is how he fought or his transformation into a conscious fierce corpse. Is your concern that Xue Yang has replicated the technique and created his own ghost general?”

He didn’t think it would be that. As he’d said, everyone knew what Wen Ning had done once he’d become the Ghost General – the Jin sect would know far better than either of them how fearsome he was, since it was at Jinlin Tower that he had erupted in his final massacre. If they wanted to know about fierce corpses in general, they could go there.

To come here, to Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji – the only two people who were known to have gone up to the Yiling Burial Mounds while Wei Wuxian lived there with Wen Ning at his side, the only living people who knew what the Ghost General was like when he wasn’t being a weapon, to know what Wen Ning was like as a person – suggested something different.

Something impossible.

Xiao Xingchen met his eyes. “It is not.”

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice tight and unsteady. “He murdered my brother-in-law, my nephew’s father, and when Lanling Jin demanded his head as retribution, he and his sister went to them under pretense of surrender and murdered even more of them before they were taken down. He was destroyed.”

They said nothing.

“The former Sect Leader Jin was very interested in demonic cultivation,” Lan Wangji said slowly. “While Wei Wuxian lived, he sought to claim the Stygian Tiger Seal. When he died…”

He glanced at Jiang Cheng a second time. They had not discussed the subject of the Siege of the Burial Mounds in any detail, as it inevitably put Jiang Cheng into a terrible frame of mind, and Lan Wangji remembered with a shudder the state they had both been in at that fateful meeting – he didn’t want to remember it himself, much less bring back bad memories for Jiang Cheng.

They certainly hadn’t discussed the subject of spoils. The only thing that had ever brought it to mind was the silent presence of Chenqing lying in place of pride in the Jiang sect’s memorial hall as the substitute for the memorial tablet they could not afford to raise for Wei Wuxian.

It hadn’t seemed relevant.

It was now.

“Sect Leader Jin took it,” Jiang Cheng confirmed, his voice shaking a little. “The Stygian Tiger Seal was broken in two, and Wei Wuxian destroyed one of the halves – the Jin sect claimed the other, saying that they were going to destroy it. I think they took more than that, too…I know they took Suibian, but they also took all the papers that’d been left in the cave. I always suspected that that was why they were so protective of Xue Yang, who was a demonic cultivator himself – that Jin Guangshan wanted to squeeze him for information, or maybe even use him to figure out some of Wei Wuxian’s notes…”

His voice trailed off, and he shook his head furiously.

“Wen Ning was destroyed,” he insisted. “The Jin sect scattered his ashes! They – they…”

“They lied,” Song Zichen said.

Lan Wangji pressed his lips together. He had no particularly warm feelings towards Wen Ning, who had been Wei Wuxian’s shadow in that last year or so of life when Wei Wuxian had turned his back on the world – a position Lan Wangji would have given his left arm to have, and over which he had had all sorts of inappropriate feelings of envy and stifled, unjustified possessiveness – but Jiang Cheng took the man’s existence far more personally.

In Jiang Cheng’s view, it had been for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had stolen the Wen sect remnants, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had abjured his relationship with the Jiang sect and Jiang Cheng himself, for Wen Ning that Wei Wuxian had given up everything, and yet simultaneously it had also been Wen Ning that had pushed him to the very brink and over. Wen Ning who had murdered Jin Zixuan – Wen Ning who Wei Wuxian had so brutally avenged in the massacre at the Nightless City, at which Jiang Yanli had died.

Wen Ning, who they thought had been destroyed.

“We believe that the former Sect Leader Jin hid Wen Ning away instead of destroying him, then gave Xue Yang access to him, just as he did with the Tiger Seal and Wei Wuxian’s notes,” Xiao Xingchen said, his face solemn. “We also believe that Xue Yang took Wen Ning away with him when he escaped Jinlin Tower once the former sect leader died and the current sect leader took over. We believe that he has been controlling him through demonic cultivation, using him as something of an – accomplice, or something of the sort.”

“Controlling him how?” Jiang Cheng asked. They paused, and he continued, “I’m not stupid. You’re very sure that Wen Ning’s not gone, which means you located him and saw something that made you think so. What was it?”

Lan Wangji nodded shallowly, approving of Jiang Cheng’s deduction – and of the self-mastery he was demonstrating in not exploding in rage on the spot.

“He had nails in his head,” Xiao Xingchen said. “He…the Ghost General was mindless and unthinking, but strong. Very strong. He…”

He trailed off, and shook his head, seeming a bit sad.

“What help do you require from us?” Lan Wangji said, suddenly sick of the tension, and he saw Jiang Cheng throw him a look full of relief for having raised the question.

“Hanguang-jun is right,” Jiang Cheng said, backing him up at once. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you need us for? You two are heroes, and half the cultivation world would sell their firstborn child for a chance to bring down the Ghost General to increase their fame – there’s no way you came here just to get our help in bringing him down. If that’s what you wanted, it wouldn’t have needed to be us, and there wouldn’t have needed to be a smokescreen. What do you want?”

“We want to heal him,” Xiao Xingchen said solemnly. “To bring back his consciousness and return his sanity. But we don’t know what he was like, before Xue Yang. The only ones that do are the two of you.”

“You do remember that he killed my brother-in-law?” Jiang Cheng asked, his voice sharp.

“At Wei Wuxian’s order,” Song Zichen responded, equally sharp. “You do not blame the sword for the men it kills.”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes briefly, in pain at the reminder. He took a breath, steadying himself, and then another.

He opened his eyes.

“We will help,” he said, and ignored the betrayed look Jiang Cheng shot his way. They would talk about it later, and he would help Jiang Cheng see that this was what they had to do, no matter how painful. “And we will not betray the secret of his existence.”

“Thank you,” Xiao Xingchen said, and saluted deeply; Song Zichen did as well. “And yet, we have more we would ask of you.”

“Spit it out, then,” Jiang Cheng growled.

“Finding Wen Ning had shown us that Xue Yang’s actions have gone truly beyond the pale, beyond redemption,” Song Zichen said, and his voice was fierce. That wasn’t surprising: it had been his childhood home, his master and fellow disciples, that Xue Yang had attacked. “He is, as you said, a mad dog, biting all that he can – I believe that Wen Ning was his only companion as he fled, chased by the whole cultivation world these past few years. I fear what Xue Yang will do now that his last connection to humanity is gone. He is capable of anything.”

“We must find him,” Xiao Xingchen agreed. “We must find Xue Yang, and we must stop him from doing – whatever it is that he will do next. I cannot even begin to imagine the atrocities he might perpetrate. And so we must ask…”

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng said, and they both looked at him, surprised. “We’ll help you heal Wen Ning, and we’ll even help you hunt down Xue Yang. But this time, no excuses, no dragging your feet, no waiting for a proper trial, nothing like that. He dies, you hear me? Xue Yang is to be killed on sight!”

“I agree,” Lan Wangji said, folding his hands together behind his back. He had helped Jiang Cheng in pursuing and judging demonic cultivators before – there were those that could be granted mercy, and those for whom the only just answer was death; time and too many second chances had made inescapably clear that Xue Yang was the latter. “Each time you have sought to bring him to trial, he has taken advantage of your devotion to justice to escape.”

Xiao Xingchen looked at Song Zichen, who nodded firmly; a moment later, Xiao Xingchen sighed and nodded himself. “Agreed,” he said. “You will help us?”

“We will,” Jiang Cheng said grimly, and Lan Wangji nodded in full support. “It would be a pleasure to wipe that trash off the face of this earth.”

The town was full of mist and fog, choking the throat and making it hard to breathe or see; the feng shui of the entire valley was as bad as could be, and there was more miasma than there was air.

“You there, drunkard, what are you doing!” someone shouted at a figure lying halfway in the door of a house that was filled to the brim with coffins. “Don’t mock our livelihood! Just because it’s a coffin house doesn’t make it a good place to play dead!”

The figure stirred.

But I’m not playing dead, he thought, rubbing his aching head with one hand, noticing that he seemed to be missing his little finger. I actually was dead, wasn’t I?

Wei Wuxian opened his eyes.

#mdzs #lan wangji #jiang cheng #xiao xingchen #song lan #my fic #my fics #delight in misery

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featherfur · 3 years

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I would love a Fix-it Au where Nie Huaisang fails to kill Jin Guangyao (maybe he slips through his fingers, maybe he just slits Lan Wangji’s throat the second he has the chance and Su She never has a moment to go get Huaisang because he has to hold back Lan Xichen and Wei Wuxian so Huaisang can’t maneuver the playing field). So he goes back in time and just stabs Jin Guangyao and blames Xue Yang.

(More below the cut)

Huaisang’s not an idiot, he knows he’s not the smartest person in the room he’s just the best at adapting. Jin Guangyao can set up all the pieces but if something doesn’t go right he flounders, but Nie Huaisang has grown up as a Nie and no one in the Nie make sense or follow predictable patterns so he adapts easily. He had a back up plan, of course, if things went south but he wasn’t expecting things to go so south. So he approaches Wei Wuxian, grieving at Lotus Pier where Jiang Cheng brought him when he found him and Jin Ling frozen at the temple. Wei Wuxian hadn’t said a word since, clutching Bichen and Lan Wangji’s headband so tightly even Lan Qiren didn’t have the heart to pull it away.

Huaisang sits beside him, wondering how Jiang Cheng is handling his newly mute brother but he doesn’t worry too long, if things go right this time he won’t ever have to feel that. If things go wrong… well, he’ll be dead anyways so why not try?

He quietly passes him the spell he found in the Lan Forbidden Library (Jin Guangyao isn’t the only one who had Lan Xichen wrapped around his finger all these years, Huaisang was always his didi the moment they met even before he and Mingjue were sworn brothers) and says “let me fix this, please.”

Wei Wuxian doesn’t know why Huaisang thinks he needs to fix it, he doesn’t know that Huaisang is the reason the feared Yiling Patriarch is back instead of an actual demon, doesn’t know he sent the sword arm to Mo Village, doesn’t know he set up the meeting in Yi City, doesn’t know anything. But he takes the papers and stares at them and he knows and part of him, a fierce bold part of him filled with empathy and love and hope, wants to fight Huiasang on it. If this spell failed Huiasang would be torn apart, his soul reduced to nothingness. But he’s tired, he’s so very tired. It has been 16 years for everyone else but for him, he’s lost his family with the Wen’s, his sister, and the love of his life all within the span of six months. He doesn’t have the strength to argue, not when the only reason he eats is because Jiang Cheng comes over three times a day and feeds him, the only reason he sleeps is because the Head Disciple (Liu Xiolan, his sisters best friend and that hurts too) brings him to his room and waits for him to sleep, the only reason he moves is because Sizhui needs him to stay alive.

So he takes the papers and he writes the rest, focusing all his energy on something that will distract him. He writes and writes until he can wake up on his own again, until he shovels food in his mouth at a pace that actually has Jiang Cheng trying to stop him after a month of forcibly pushing chicken in his face. Because this could save Lan Zhan, his Lan Zhan.

He finishes it finally, three months later with Jiang Cheng passed out beside him at three am, Jin Ling and his posse only a few feet further all curled up like a bundle of kittens from the night hunt they’d just completed to get the blood of a ghoul for the spell. When he passes it to Huiasang he isn’t expecting the hesitation when he reads it over.

“You… do understand you can’t go back right?” Huiasang says quietly, “this needs a golden core on both sides and you won’t be able to go back far enough with your current core.”

Wuxian doesn’t even bother to think about how in the hell Huiansang knows he gave up his core, since Jin Guangyao’s disappearance he’s been different and Wei Wuxian has come to realize he’s smarter than he was ever given credit for.

“Your core isn’t much stronger,” Wei Wuxian snaps but there’s no fire as he nods tiredly. “I know, I can send you back to before I died though, if your past self is willing to give in and let you merge with him. If you can save all of this from happening, I’d do anything.”

Huiasang eyes him and tucks the papers away. He doesn’t say “you know this will create an alternate timeline and you will continue to live in world without him.” Wei Wuxian knows, and he’s tired but he won’t strip Sizhui of another father.

“I’ll take care of everything, Da-Ge will stab anyone who tries to stop me.” Huiasang says as jovially as he can even though he knows it comes out flat but Wei Wuxian gives him an appreciative smile.

“Good luck,” is all he says before he’s turning around and walking wordlessly towards the Head Disciple who waits patiently for him. Huiasang makes a note of her, wondering if he can find her in the past and wiggle her into the Jiang Sect, he never met her before and he isn’t sure where exactly to find her but if he can it’ll make it much easier to have someone hold Jiang Cheng back if he starts barking and biting. (Though, he remembers with a gentle feeling of fondness, Jiang Yanli had been good at that too so if he does this right she could help him get those two idiots to being brothers again)

It takes almost two weeks to prepare the spell but he doesn’t mind taking the time to get his affairs in order. The Nie Sect never truly loved him, not after Da-Ge’s death (they used to adore him, he thinks bitterly before tossing the useless emotion away). But he had the most trustworthy members by his side throughout the whole plan against Jin Guangyao, so he assigns his heir and orders them to say they found his body dead on a night hunt. He thinks Lan Xichen will be the only one who will grieve for him, there’s only a flicker of guilt for that after all Xichen led to his brother’s death because he was too kind to listen.

He does the spell and the world goes dark and he thinks it failed, until he opens his eyes and realizes he can see. Then he feels the other consciousness rouse beside him, confused at first then absolutely pissed. He almost laughs at the indignant emotions in his past self at the idea that a ghost would be so brazen as to attempt to posses him.

It doesn’t take long to convince his past self to merge with him, he wouldn’t be dying only becoming one with his future self. Really it would just be like growing up really fast since they are the same person. It does take longer to convince him that they are the same person, nearly half a day before he gives in.

The merge is, easy honestly. Huiasang faints in the middle of walking through the fields, and wakes up a day and a half later after living through all of his memories on fast forward to a pissed (worried) Da-Ge.

He doesn’t even speak at first, he just sobs, he sobs and sobs and sobs as he holds onto him, until Da-Ge gently soothes him and the awkward strokes become gentle caresses through his hair like Huiasang is five again.

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Da-Ge asks when Huiasang can breathe again and Huiasang cries softly again and burrows into his chest and Da-Ge doesn’t ask again. He just pets his head and cradles him close until Huiasang is nearly asleep again.

Xichen visits once and Huaisang has to force himself not to bare his teeth and scream, but 20 year old Huaisang wouldn’t do that. Xichen looks so young too, his touches on Mingjue’s shoulder are full of affection and Huiasang hates him, hates him so much that he wishes Xichen died at the temple instead of Lan Wangji. He did this, because he didn’t listen to Mingjue because he fell in love with someone even though he already loved Mingjue. How could he-

Then Xichen lays a hand on his head, and 28 years of affection from his Er-ge wells in him and he throws himself forward into his arms. He wants to hate him, but this is his Er-ge. Who held him through nightmares when he visited, who went through night hunts protecting him when Da-ge couldn’t, who snuck him treats and paintings and gave Huaisang his first painted fan, who loved it when Huaisang called him Ge-ge and called him didi and spoiled him almost as much as Da-ge did.

And Da-ge loves him, loves him only less then Huaisang himself. So Huaisang can’t hate him, even if he loathes his choices and won’t ever be able to fully trust his decisions again, he can’t hate him.

Xichen takes his crying better than Mingjue did and murmurs to him quietly until he does actually pass out. Nie Zhongui almost makes him cry too but Huaisang manages not to, instead he gives him the prettiest fan he can buy because that’s how 20 year old Huaisang would say “you’re my favorite” even if 36 year old Huaisang would have just said it.

It’s two weeks until the ambush at Qiongqi Path and that’s all Huisang needs. He convinces Mingjue to take him to the celebration (much easier now with his fainting spells, and the almost full day of sobbing that Huiasang won’t explain). Thankfully Xiao Xingchen hasn’t captured Xue Yang since his escape and it provides the perfect excuse.

He quietly asks Jin Zixuan if he could go and meet Wei Wuxian at the base of the Burial Mound with Jiang Cheng before Jin Zixun even has a chance to leave, Huaisang didn’t think it would be so easy but when he mentioned being worried because of Sect Leader Yao and Ouyang, staunch haters known for screaming for Wei Wuxian’s blood, they’d both agreed immediately and Huaisang has to trust them not to be morons because he has something else that needs to be taken care of. Su She would be too late with Jin Zixun failing to arrive in time to ambush and Nie Huisang could discredit him (and possibly have him executed) immediately by showing the hundred holes curse on him. But Jin Guangyao? That was going to be personal.

A few crudely written demonic cultivation talismans (curtesy of Wei Wuxian’s Sunshot rampage where he left them fucking everywhere) and a knife shaped like Xue Yang’s familiar sword, where all Huaisang needed. That and alone time with Jin Guangyao.

That was probably the easiest bit, convincing Jin Guangyao to walk with him so Huiasang could show him his new fans. He was eager to walk with him, and Huaisang wonders as he plunges the knife through his back and into his heart between the ribs if Jin Guangyao still held affection for him in the end or if he simply wanted another pawn to use to keep Lan Xichen close.

Huiasang wished he took pleasure in the betrayal on Jin Guangyao’s face, but really? He’s just tired. It’s been 16 years of this, 16 years of loss and pain over and over again and it’s finally over.

Well nearly.

He slices his own face too and slips the knife into a qiankun pouch where he knows no one will look, after all Nie Huaisang was no good at being a cultivator much less a killer, and shoves a few talismans into Jing Guangyao’s clothes to be found later (maybe they will be, maybe they won’t but that’s not what he’s worried about).

Then he screams, he howls, he cries for Da-ge as he runs toward the gates and he’s almost surprised at how fast he gets there (he shouldn’t be, he was Da-ge’s most precious thing in the world but it’s been 14 years without him and some things he’s forgotten like the feeling of safety that comes with his brother’s rampaging steps storming to protect him from anything and everything). He throws himself into his brother’s arms and sobs, swiping through the air at the dead Jin Guangyao.

“Da-ge! He’s dead! He’s dead! San-ge!” He wails as Mingjue presses him against his chest with all the force in the world, Baxia ready to destroy anyone. “I was just showing him my fans and I only turned around to look at a bird and- and- Da-ge he…”

He sobs and dramatically yanks at Da-ge’s robes like he’s beside himself with agony and grief, and maybe he is, not for Jin Guangyao but for everyone else who lost everything because of his need to get his father’s approval.

“What? Huaisang stop crying and just spit it out.” Da-he’s harsh in such a familiar way that the tears spill out more. He’s not angry, he’s worried and he wants to hunt down his sworn brother’s killer but he won’t leave his didi behind.

“He tried to protect me, San-ge! San-ge!” There was no point in tarnishing his reputation, he hadn’t done anything yet beyond be a disgusting snake who killed the Captain and freed Xue Yang but that would be so much harder to prove when Mingjue had let the bastard go. “But he got stabbed instead! Da-ge please.”

“Who was it? Did you recognize them?” Theres louder shouts behind them, Xichen’s voice is worried but still soft as he moves to comfort him as well.

Huaisang nods frantically, reaching out to tug on Xichen’s robes like he’s terrified.

“It was Xue Yang! He said he was going to kill me then Da-ge and the rest of the Nie for imprisoning him. But San-ge pushed me out of the way and- and- and he-“ Huaisang cut himself off with another wail and his brother’s hands are firm as they tilt his head up to look at the deep cut on his face. “I screamed and he ran after taking something from San-ge.”

Mingjue tries to step forward and Huaisang sobs louder.

“Da-ge no! Please! Don’t leave, what if he comes back? He killed everyone at the Chang clan!” He howls and he’s shoved into Xichen’s arms that fold around him immediately. Huaisang ignores the tears on Xichen’s face, the tears on his brothers because their grief is nothing now compared to the future. The future of Mingjue’s death and Xichen’s loss of every brother he had.

He lets himself collapse into Xichen’s embrace as Mingjue kneels beside his sworn brother and slides his hands through the messy robes and finds the notes, written in what Huaisang would consider pretty good renditions of Jin Guangyao and Jin Guanshan’s hand writing. He hadn’t though he could actually get them to look but he was nothing if not adaptable.

Mingjue’s face is unreadable as he passes the talisman’s to Lan Xichen and Xichen’s eyes darken. Huaisang knows he won’t be there to track down Xue Yang, he doesn’t want to be at 20 years old and he doesn’t want to be there at 36 years. He wants to sleep.

He sobs until Nie Zhongui is called and then latches onto him instead, listening to him promise to protect him no matter what. He wrings out promise after promise until Nie Zhongui owes him atleast another century of personal protection and two hours a week for the next month of painting together and finally allows himself to be quieted.

He’s taken back to his quarters and only an hour later, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are bursting through the doors like they’re fifteen again. Both are yelling questions and he wails as he hugs them, this time it’s not fake. They’re alive and they’re not grieving messes and he has his best friends with him for the first time in sixteen years and he cries and almost laughs as they panic trying to comfort him.

He has a lot more to do, he knows. He has to protect Wei Wuxian, has to save the Wens (though he’s certain a small baby A-Yuan will make that simple, Da-ge was weak for babies), he has to make sure Jin Guangshan is either dead or discredited so Wei Wuxian can’t be hunted down, has to shove Wei Wuxian back into the Jiang Sect and let Jiang Cheng’s insane protection streak go wild, and he has so so many fans to make to give his brother after he chews him out for not telling him about the Sabers and getting him to let Wei Wuxian help. He has so much to do and he is so tired.

But he’s lighter than he’s been in ages, his brother is safe, everyone he cares about is safe and he is happy.

(This is just a very rough draft of an idea lmao)

#mdzs #the untamed #wei wuxian #nie huisang #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #jiang cheng #jin guangyao #lan wangji #cw: character death #cw: murder

63 notes · View notes

tangledinmdzs · 3 years

Text

with you - junior quartet hcs

juniors reaction when you die in their arms

warning: major sad vibes please read at your own discretion

i am personally a very fluffy person and try to make my blog as such. but sometimes we crave a tad bit of angst in our lives

so here it is.

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Lan Sizhui

you can’t help the tear that rolls down your cheek

it’s the only warmth that you can truly feel

especially when everything, even your skin

was beginning to numb

“don’t close your eyes,”

you hadn’t realized that you were doing that in the first place,

you don’t know where you get the strength to pull your eyelids open again, but when you look up

you’re glad that it’s to something familiar

“Sizhui...” you breathe out, feeling your breath choked on something from inside

“s-save your energy, y/n”

you’d never heard Sizhui stutter before

perhaps this demon curse was scarier than you thought

and the curiosity lends enough strength for you to find his face again,

maybe if you focused hard enough, you could feel how tightly his arms were wrapped around you

how close he was holding you to him

but you can’t feel anything, anymore

you blink rapidly, looking up trying to meet his eyes

though you can only see the bottom of his chin, barely follow the way that his head flickers here and there for help

“Sizhui...i’ll be alright...”

at your voice Sizhui looks down, and his tear filled eyes meet your blank, dulling ones

how is it, even in this moment,

you were still the one reassuring him

“y/n...”

“it’ll be alright...” you tell him, just as the darkening edges of your vision take over

when your eyes close, Sizhui feels like his own breath stops

his hand lands on your face, thumb catching on the final tear that rolls gently down your face,

he leans his head down to meet yours,

and he cries too

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Lan Jingyi

Jingyi’s soft hiccuping tears has been your company for the past few hours,

along with the drip drip of water in the desolate temple you were both trapped in

your blood that was once warm has stained both of your hands, red and bright

now it dripped in tandem with the water from somewhere in the temple, a small puddle at your side

the shallower your breath gets, the more Jingyi cries, his tears and hiccups mixing with pure fear

Jingyi doesn’t think that there is anything that can help him regain himself, his mind, not when you were this hurt, this injured,

this close to-

he feels your warm, blood slicked hand land on his

Jingyi jolts hard at the contact, looking down to you right away

luckily he finds your eyes immediately, staring up at him

he’s grateful that you’re still awake, though there’s a haziness that’s setting into your stare

“...at the very least...i’m not alone,”

“you didn’t think that i would leave you here, by yourself, did you?” Jingyi stutters out at you

he can’t understand if it was your heroism talking or you were simply that stupid

you take in another breath, though it doesn’t travel as deeply into your lungs as you want to

“...you should of-”

“and what then? who’d help you? who’d get you out of here?”

Jingyi’s voice sounds borderline hysteric, which is why your calm, soft voice dulls everything,

“...there was never an exit for me...when i took on this mission,”

Jingyi stares down at you, finds your eyes then

he sees the acceptance in them, something that he was never prepared for

a fast tear rolls down his face, following the previous tear tracks that have already wet his skin

he can barely feel it when your blood slicked hand gently covers his, pressing down on your wound

he can barely hear the smallest ‘thank you’ that you breathe out to him, your final breath

only when you go still in his arms, blood seeping onto his robes does Jingyi let out an anguished, desperate cry

the temple hears his wails, echoing in the vast chambers

cradling your warm body, Jingyi wonders how there was any god that could be so cruel

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Jin Ling

Jin Ling has never run this fast in his life

but now he was running like his life depended on it

actually, he ran as fast because your life depended on it

and that would be equivalent if not more than his own life

a hard shiver from your body in his arms almost makes him lose his balance, but he holds you close, pushing on in the night as the moon sits high on the sky

this night hunt had gone wrong

so wrong in so many ways

but Jin Ling would not

be adding your name to the casualty list

the thought of anything worse happening to you makes him misstep

and much to his fear, you both fall to the ground

he’d manage to bracket much of his body around yours, taking the brunt of the impact

but when he sits up, you’re deadly still in his arms

“y/n-y/n” he shakily calls, holding your shoulders than your face,

you don’t respond right away and he’s fearful

“y/n!!” he shouts

and your eyes open slowly, blinking up at him almost in confusion

he’s relieved that your eyes have opened, but your skin is sickly pale, your qi fighting inside you from the demon’s mantra

Jin Ling knows that the sooner he gets you back to the camp the sooner you would get help

so he doesn’t hesitate wrapping his arms around you to pick you up again

but you wither in pain, hiccuping out a small moan as he tried to so much as lift you

“h-hurts,” you whimper out and Jin Ling holds you closer to him, letting you hide your face in the juncture of his neck

his hands rub rapidly up and down your arms when you stutter our a breathy, ‘cold’ despite the warm night

“we need to go get help,” Jin Ling tries to tell you but your ‘no’ overlaps with how hard you begin to shiver

in a final desperate attempt, Jin Ling holds your head steady, wrapping his entire cloak around the both of you to conserve warmth

“y-you can’t, you can’t leave me too. i can’t lose you too y/n” Jin Ling stutters out his voice cracking as the fear of losing you finally dawns on

held this close in his arms, you want to reassure him, want to do more than cling onto his robe sleeves and dig your nose into skin

but before you can

you qi is involuntarily sealed

and the rest of your body, feels the depths of fire and the sharpest of ice cold all at once

you barely have time to hear his scream of your name

you don’t have time to say goodbye

≿————-　❈　————-≾

Ouyang Zizhen

“the blossoms are beautiful today, aren’t they?”

your voice is softer today than usual, reminisce and melancholy despite the young age that you are

both of your young ages

sat with you in his arms, Zizhen leans his head on top of yours gently, arms encompassing you as the cool spring breeze passes by the open awning of your bed chambers

when Zizhen looks down at you, he watches the little smile appear on your face as you stare out at the scenery, the awakening of new life just around the corner

Zizhen keeps his eyes on you, takes in the look of your profile against the backdrop of the cherry blossoms of the small villa

many had always said that the had looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, pulled up the sun when morning came and whispered to the moon for a little extra light at night time

Zizhen had always watched you with a look of love, of deep love for you

some people say that it might just be the honeymoon stage

since you both were married so young and have barely had a year together

but

Zizhen feels (knows) that he will always love you

despite the young age

despite the fast marriage

despite your illness

when a particularly hard cough racks your body, Zizhen quickly tightens his arms around you, fixing his cloak tighter around your already warm robes

you manage a small smile when you catch your breath, leaning back into him,

he feels your weight on him, though you’re much lighter than he’d like you to be

“we should go inside now, the wind can’t be good for you after a long time,” Zizhen tries to persuade you but when he looks down to catch your little pout, he finds it hard to even heed his own words

“i’ve always seen the blossoms from far away, never this close. let’s stay a little while more Zhen-Zhen” you tell him

the dwindling amount of time that you had left with him had always loomed over the both of you ever since that fateful day a few months ago, from the physician’s words

that had be the first and only time that you had seen Zizhen cry about your illness with you, when you were feeling most despondent

he had never cried again since

doesn’t want to fill the remaining moments with you in his life with tears and sadness

wants to remember you happy

so he lets you stay out despite his heart beating too rapidly in his chest, and his mind whirring with what to tell the cooks to make for when you come inside later

“Zhen-Zhen,” you call, even though he’s really close to you

Zizhen looks down at you, gives a small half smile when you lean your head down closer into his chest

small smiles are what you are both often accustomed to nowadays

“i love you my sun and sky,” you whisper eyes closed as you feel his warmth surround you

Zizhen lets out a little funny huff, wrapping his arms tighter around you

“i love you more, my moon and stars,” Zizhen replies just as gently

because you’re so close, he feels the moment that your final breath puffs against the column of his neck,

feels the different kind of stillness of your body in his arms

and Zizhen knows, he knows that his time with you was always meant to end sooner than later

but it doesn’t change the fact

that he will never be ready it

Zizhen closes his eyes, presses a final kiss onto the crown of your head

though his arms can’t find it in himself to let you go

86 notes · View notes

ibijau · 3 years

Text

How to Woo a Lan pt 5 / on AO3

Jin Ling meets with Sizhui again

It would have been a lie to say Jin Ling wasn’t surprised when his letter to Lan Sizhui quickly received an answer. He still didn’t know what he’d said that was so bad last time they’d seen each other, but he understood that he had, in fact, deeply offended the other boy. So deeply that Jin Ling had been prepared to start writing to Lan Jingyi too if that first letter didn’t do its job, in an effort to get him to convince Lan Sizhui to forgive him.

Instead, Lan Sizhui just wrote back.

It had been an unpleasant enough morning for Jin Ling up until that point, full of annoying elders, and requests for help, and so. Many. Stupid. Bills. Jin Ling had thought he would die of boredom sitting at his desk, when he’d spotted that one letter bearing the Lan seal, dropped among many others he had received that day. Even as he started opening it with trembling hands, Jin Ling made a mental note to ask that letters from Gusu Lan not be mixed with other more common correspondence. He then started reading, and…

And Lan Sizhui wasn’t angry at him.

Lan Sizhui wrote that he accepted Jin Ling’s apology about their last encounter, and would be delighted to go on another Night Hunt sometime soon, without Wei Wuxian present. A less creepy one if at all possible, Lan Sizhui added, and Jin Ling could just hear his soft laugh. Something normal like a giant beast, or a demon, or just anything other than a ghost, really. It would be good fun, Lan Sizhui said, and he’d be happy for the chance to chat a bit.

Jin Ling’s mood rose for the rest of the day and nothing, not even bills could bring him back down again.

Night Hunts, however, weren’t that simple to organise. Jin Ling had responsibilities, as did Lan Sizhui now that he had returned from his mysterious journey. They had to find a moment that would fit both their schedules, and to decide on a place to go Night Hunting. So for the entire month that followed Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui wrote to each other to decide on details, making sure to exchange at least one letter each week, more if they managed.

When they finally managed to decide on a place and date for their Night Hunt, Jin Ling also wrote to Nie Huaisang to inform him of that development, and to thank him for his help. Nie Huaisang promptly responded that he didn’t care in the least about anyone’s romantic life, reminded Jin Ling to be honest, to speak openly about his own failings, and to not dress too ostentatiously since the Lan valued simplicity.

Then, at last, the day of the Night Hunt came. Jin Ling picked his clothes to be elegant but as simple as possible, packed his best bow, and flew to the meeting point that had been agreed on. He was practically vibrating with excitement as he hopped down from his sword at the entrance of the village in question, as he walked toward the inn where Lan Sizhui would be waiting for him. He entered the small building, scanned its dim-lit main room, and felt his heart skip a beat when he spotted a silhouette in white by a table.

His joy was short-lived when he noticed a second silhouette wearing that colour, right next to the first, and a third wearing a darker robe.

Ouyang Zizhen was the first one to notice Jin Ling had arrived, and though he looked quite apologetic, he jumped to his feet to greet his friend, even giving Jin Ling a tight hug as if they hadn’t seen one another in years.

“Sihzui told Jingyi about the hunt and he invited himself,” Ouyang Zizhen whispered under the cover of that hug. “And I was in Gusu anyway, so I thought I should come too. I’ll try to distract Jingyi so you two can have a moment alone.”

Jin Ling quickly nodded, grateful beyond words, then pushed Ouyang Zizhen and complained about him being too sentimental while they went to join the Lan at their table. He silently promised himself that next time Ouyang Zizhen had one of his dramatic falling out with his father he’d be welcome to stay in Jinlin Tai as long as he pleased, no questions asked. It was really the least Jin Ling could do.

Now that the four of them were together, they chatted for a bit. Lan Sizhui, ever the perfect host, ordered some fresh tea for everyone, and poured some for Jin Ling. He poured some for everyone, really, but he did so for Jin Ling first, which surely had to count for something. When they were done with their tea, they headed out toward the forest where some great beast was supposed to live which sometimes took children.

“I’m still saying it might just be wolves, or a tiger,” Lan Jingyi said as they walked past the last house.

“But an animal wouldn’t target only little boys,” Lan Sizhui gently countered.

“It wouldn’t go for humans at all unless it had nothing else to eat,” Jin Ling added, to which Lan Sizhui nodded approvingly. “And since there’s plenty of game in the woods according to locals, it’s really too odd. Even if it is an animal, it’s not an ordinary one. Maybe a demon with a taste for human flesh…”

“Or a creature on its way to becoming a demon,” Lan Sizhui mused. “I’m really with Jin Ling on this, it’s really unlikely to be a normal animal. We’ll have to be careful.”

Jin Ling beamed upon hearing that Lan Sizhui was on his side, though his good humour was rather spoiled when Lan Jingyi took one look at his face and snorted. He didn’t say anything, didn’t openly mock Jin Ling or comment on how happy he looked just because Lan Sizhui agreed with him. Lan Jingyi just snorted, gave him a disdainful look, and said nothing.

Jin Ling hated him, and didn’t know why they were even friends.

For a few hours, the four boys wandered into the forest, following a trail toward the spot of the last known attack. Two days earlier, a toddler of barely two had been following his father on the way to another village where relatives lived. The little boy had trailed a little behind, which hadn’t much worried his father until he’d heard a shriek. When he’d turned around his son was gone, no trace of him left behind save for a little wooden toy he’d been holding.

“No blood?” Jin Ling asked.

“None at all,” Lan Sizhui replied, who’d had a chance to speak with the man before Jin Ling arrived. “The father says he might have seen a dark shape running away, but it was very far, going very fast, there were trees blocking his view and… well, he admitted himself he isn’t sure he actually saw anything. He was quite distressed. That was his only child, and he’s a widower.”

Ouyang Zizhen gasped in horror, and lamented the bad luck of that poor man until they arrived where the attack had happened.

There was nothing to mark the place, no sign had been left, and indeed not a drop of blood visible. Yet as soon as they reached a certain part of the path, they all shivered and looked at each other. That part of the path felt nearly freezing when the rest of the forest was merely pleasantly fresh. Seeing it confirmed that there was something unnatural at play, the four boys investigated for a little while, and determined it might be a wolf-life creature. Although they couldn’t find blood, Lan Sizhui had managed to spot some coarse hair near the site of the attack.

It was Ouyang Zizhen who suggested that they split up in teams of two, only to immediately demand that he go with Lan Jingyi. This displeased Lan Jingyi, who tried to argue first against the idea of forming teams, then against the fact that he didn’t get to be in Lan Sizhui’s. Ouyang Zizhen had to whine that he’d already been alone on a Night Hunt with Jin Ling long ago, so he’d had his turn and someone else should deal with him. If Jin Ling hadn’t been so grateful, he would have been rather annoyed by that turn of phrase.

In fact, grateful or not, he was starting to get angry when Lan Sizhui interrupted the argument between their two friends.

“I don’t mind at all going with Jin Ling,” he said. “Which I would have said earlier if I’d been given a chance to speak. Don’t be hasty, Jingyi. Does everyone have signals in case of trouble? Good. Let’s all meet here again at sunset if we don't find the creature, and see what progress we have made.”

The plan, barely tolerated when suggested by Ouyang Zizhen, was immediately accepted by Lan Jingyi now that Lan Sizhui was on board. This, combined with the nasty look Lan Jingyi threw at Jin Ling before they split up, almost worried the younger boy. If Lan Jingyi too was in love… but he'd never done anything to indicate that was the case except by getting in Jin Ling’s way, and he seemed to like girls better.

Not that it would have mattered even if Lan Jingyi had loved Lan Sizhui. Jin Ling wasn’t going to let anyone else seduce the great love of his life.

“Don’t mind Jingyi, he’s just protective,” Lan Sizhui said as they walked away from the path. “I told him you’ve apologised for last time, and that you didn’t mean anything bad, but he won’t listen.”

Jin Ling kicked a piece of dead wood.

“I don’t know why I’m even friends with him. He’s annoying.”

“Maybe you’re friends with him because he helped you corner your cousin and punch him in the face so hard his nose broke?” Lan Sizhui suggested.

Jin Ling stopped in his tracks and stared at the older boy, horrified that this misbehaviour of his had been revealed. Almost nobody knew about that, because Jin Ling and Lan Jingyi weren’t stupid enough to boast about it, and Jin Chan wasn’t going to let anyone know he’d been beaten by his cousin.

Lan Sizhui tried to put on a stern expression for a moment, but that quickly dissolved into a grin.

“Jingyi told me about it, and he also said it was deserved, even if he wouldn’t say why.”

It certainly was deserved. Jin Chan deserved to have his nose broken just on the principle that he existed, and that he was very annoying. Of course in that particular case he’d also said some very rude things about Lan Xichen, which had upset Lan Jingyi a great deal, and Jin Ling hadn’t liked that because the only person allowed to be mean to Lan Jingyi was himself.

“Well? Can I get the story from you?” Lan Sizhui asked.

“What happened to ‘gossip is forbidden’?” Jin Ling retorted, which made Lan Sizhui chuckle.

“It’s very cruel of you to turn my sect’s rules against me,” Lan Sizhui complained with a bright smile. “But anyway, I don’t think that would count as gossip. You were there, and you were directly involved, so it’s just… sharing information.”

Jin Ling snorted at the weak justification.

“Admit it, you just hate Jin Chan too. It’s fine. Very understandable. He’s the second most annoying person in all of Jinlin Tai, if you ask some people.”

“I can believe that. But who’s the first, then?”

“By popular judgement, that would be me,” Jin Ling grumbled.

Lan Sizhui said nothing for a moment, watching him with a strange intensity before poking him between the ribs with a soft laugh.

“I think you’re just fine, actually. Much better than him, certainly. Your cousin was horrible that time in the Burial Mounds and did his best to annoy others, while you kept your temper admirably. Everyone else was scared, but not you.”

Jin Ling blushed, half from pleasure at hearing Lan Sizhui speak so well of him, half from embarrassment. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been scared back then, and just that he’d been utterly convinced his uncles would get him out of trouble, as they’d always done before.

To avoid saying something stupid, Jin Ling pretended to closely inspect a young tree that had been snapped in half, as if something heavy had stepped on it. He didn’t think the tree was in any way relevant to their investigation since the break appeared very recent, but it made him look busy. To his mild horror and joy, Lan Sizhui stepped closer to have a look as well. Their elbows brushed together a few times before Jin Ling resumed walking without a word, certain his face had to be horribly red.

If it was Lan Sizhui made no comment on it, but the older boy seemed to be biting back a small smile. Jin Ling wanted to curse himself for already making a fool of himself.

“So, will you tell me why you attacked your cousin?” Lan Sihzui insisted. “It was already odd that Jingyi wouldn’t say, but if you’re acting secretive too, I’m getting really curious.”

“A story for a story,” Jin Ling offered. “I tell you why I punched Jin Chan, and you tell me where you went all that time. Deal?”

In all of the letters they had exchanged, Lan Sizhui hadn’t once mentioned what had taken him away from the cultivation world for several months. Jin Ling had tried to hint interest in that by saying a few times how nice it would be to catch up on everything that had happened, but Lan Sizhui hadn’t said anything. Of course certain things couldn’t be written about, so Jin Ling had figured they would just talk about it when they’d meet in person.

They were friends. Wasn’t it normal to talk about it if one of them went missing for weeks and weeks?

Jin Ling thought it would be normal.

Lan Sizhui, apparently, was of a different opinion. The instant Jin Ling mentioned his long disappearance, the sweet expression on his face vanished, replaced by a hardness that felt out of place.

“I was busy,” Lan Sizhui stated. “There’s nothing more to say about it.”

“Busy with something even Lan Jingyi didn’t know about? That’s weird. I thought you told him everything. Isn’t he your best friend?”

Lan Sizhui stopped walking, so Jin Ling promptly did the same. It really was odd to see Lan Sizhui so serious, and about something like that. It was weird that he’d been gone so long, but not exceedingly odd either. Sometimes people went on long missions for their sects, because their expertise was needed in a remote part of the country. Or else, they went on long seclusion to improve their cultivation, something the Lan sect was famous for. Everyone knew that their previous sect leader, Lan Xichen’s father, had spent more time doing secluded meditation than out of it. Lan Wangji too had famously spent several years doing that, a dozen years earlier.

There were many legitimate reasons for someone to vanish for a while, so it really was weird that Lan Sizhui seemed so upset to be asked about that.

And he was upset, there was no doubt about that. His lips were pinched, his face a little pale, and there was a slight crease between his eyebrows. And then, the way he was staring at Jin Ling was… In a weird way, it reminded Jin Ling of Nie Huaisang, watching him to decide whether or not he should bother with him.

“Some things can’t be shared,” Lan Sizhui announced, tearing his eyes away. “Not even with Jingyi. Not even with you. I’m sorry, Jin Ling. Please don’t ask again.”

“Fine. It’s not like I care,” Jin Ling retorted. He instantly realised how stupid that was to say, and wince. “No, I do care. I really do care. Friends shouldn’t have secrets!”

Lan Sizhui sighed, crossing his arms on his chest. “Jin Ling…”

“Yeah, I won’t force you to speak, I’m not stupid enough to think I can,” Jin Ling grumbled. “But it’s dumb to be keeping secrets. I wouldn’t do that.”

“What secrets would you even have?” Lan Sizhui asked with a thin smile. “You’re too honest for secrets.”

Too dumb and too much of a loudmouth to keep anything to himself, was what that meant. Jin Ling almost wanted to retort that he'd done pretty well of hiding from nearly everyone that he’d gone to Qinghe and gotten Nie Huaisang to help him with his great plan to someday marry Lan Sizhui, but… but that wasn’t exactly something he could say. Maybe when they were already married it would be fine, but until then…

Though of course, that meant Jin Ling was, in fact, keeping secrets from Lan Sizhui. He didn’t like that. It wasn’t a very big secret, so it was probably fine, but the idea still didn’t sit quite right with him. Maybe for Nie Huaisang too, it had started with small secrets, and then it had ended up… not so small anymore.

“Please, let’s drop this,” Lan Sizhui all but begged. “Can’t we talk about something else?”

Something in his tone startled Jin Ling. He’d seen Lan Sizhui scared before, in Yi City and in the Burial Mounds, but never before had he heard such a hint of terror in the older boy’s voice.

He liked that even less than he liked secrets.

Lan Sizhui wasn’t supposed to be scared around him.

“Ok, let’s talk about something else,” Jin Ling agreed. To his relief, Lan Sizhui instantly relaxed, his expression regaining some warmth. “So, hm… how are things in Gusu, then?” he asked, before being struck by a different sort of curiosity. “How is your uncle doing? We missed him at that last conference, he’s a lot nicer to listen to than Lan Qiren.”

Surprisingly, Lan Sizhui expression turned dark again.

“Uncle is… he was doing better,” he explained with an irritated sigh, kicking some dead leaves. “Hanguang-Jun says Zewu-Jun was starting to make preparations to leave his seclusion by Qingming. It would have been much earlier than we all anticipated, we were all so relieved. But then, a letter came for him from the Unclean Realm and ruined everything.”

Jin Ling tensed and looked away, barely daring to breathe.

“A… a letter?” he remarked, feigning innocence and surprise. “From… from Nie Huaisang? How odd.”

“Odd indeed, and very unwelcome,” Lan Sizhui commented, too angry to notice Jin Ling’s inferior acting skills. “Nobody knows what it said, Zewu-Jun wouldn’t share it with anyone. But it upset him greatly, so it can’t have been anything good. Now we’re not sure when he will leave his seclusion. Why did Nie zongzhu have to write? Surely he’s had revenge enough now, so why can’t he leave Zewu-Jun alone?”

A cold ball of guilt and dread dropped inside Jin Ling’s gut, nearly freezing him on the spot. He hadn’t expected that Nie Huaisang would actually take his advice, not when he was so obviously quite content to wallow in misery over his lost secret love. He also hadn’t expected that should such a letter be written, it might make things so much worse between the two men. What had Nie Huaisang even said to have such an effect on Lan Xichen?

Grown-ups were so stupid, Jin Ling thought.

But before he could again try to find a better conversation topic, a giant wolf the size of a horse leaped out of some shadows, fangs aimed at Lan Sizhui’s throat, and Jin Ling had more urgent things than romance to worry about.

#zhuiling #lingzhui #xisang #lan sizhui #jin ling #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #operation woo a lan

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nillegible · 3 years

Text

(Part 4 of Stay, the MY time travel fic. Read Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 )

So much that Meng Yao has seen in his second life has been disturbingly accurate to the memories that he still has of his former life, but the brothel is different. It feels much smaller than it did to a child who grew up there. Appears more garish than he’d seen from afar, after ordering the place to be burned down. Or perhaps these decorations are so like the gilded decor Koi tower that he hadn’t noticed, back then.

Meng Yao walks inside now, for the first time since he fled after mother’s death, dressed in simple gray robes of good make, sword and tassel marking him as a cultivator. His hair is deliberately done up plainly, as different from his mother’s as he can manage it. He does not wish to be recognized here, as her son.

“Please, please stop,” someone is crying out, and a tall, well-built young man – not a cultivator though – is dragging a woman outside by the hair. As Meng Yao steps aside to make way, he recognizes her. Anxin. It’s a new way to remember her face, twisted in fear and desperation, instead of in cruel, mocking laughter.

He lets them pass, and walks into the establishment. Two young girls, maybe sixteen, direct him to a table in the main hall and prepare tea. He responds to their flirtation politely; they’re just doing their jobs, after all; and waits for the Madame to be free.

I bet Father, never had to wait, thinks Meng Yao, but it’s an idle thought. Even his mother had not wanted Meng Yao to be like him, only to gain his favour and the prestige that entailed.

For all that he’s a cultivator now, one of considerable renown even if it does not match that of a Sect Leader or heir of a major sect. He waits patiently for the madame’s attention.

The young women at his sides stiffen into perfect posture, alerting him to the imminent arrival of their boss. “How can I help the honoured young master?” the well dressed, elegant woman asks finally, coming over to sit gracefully at his table.

“This one greets Madame,” says Meng Yao simply. “I am merely here to observe, and perhaps make a purchase.” She’s so practiced that her reaction is nearly entirely subdued, only traces of her glee at finding a customer to buy one of her girls’ contract are visible. Meng Yao pretends not to notice, just smiles, serenely.

“The Young Master is seeking a wife, then? My girls are each very accomplished, and I’m sure he will find one eminently suitable to his tastes.”

Meng Yao just nods, as if disinterested. “If madame would show me the suitable candidates…” then hesitates, carefully. “I am not seeking a wife. My Uncle’s wife has taken ill, and I hoped that if I found him a suitable concubine, there would be less disharmony in my household. I am unmarried, and finding good servants is difficult enough without him scaring the help away with his ways.” He scrunches his nose in faint distaste, and watches the calculation in her eyes.

“This one understands, the Young Master will not be looking for their skills in managing a household, then. There are women to match this criterion as well. Some of my girls are great beauties and will certainly captivate any man.”

“He can find beauties on his own coin,” Meng Yao huffs. “As long as she can perform her duties, who cares what she looks like? Will Madame show me the women? I will decide when I see them.” With such crude, miserly words, Meng Yao has saved himself having to browse through most of the women here, as well as much of the haggling. The Madame would not dare to inflate her prices above that of the prostitute’s contract, for fear he’d leave and just bribe one of his female servants to quietly accept the abuse.

Sure enough, after Meng Yao is settled in a private room, the women suggested to him are significantly older than the young ones entertaining downstairs. The madame excuses herself; there’s nothing much for her to do here, but leaves two clerks to explain the costs of each contract.

Meng Yao reads through them dispassionately, even setting aside Sisi’s contract when he sees it the first time, though in the ‘look again,’ pile, not the ‘too expensive’ one. Finally, he narrows it down to three, and the women are requested to attend them, in the small parlor.

Meng Yao keeps his face averted when Sisi approaches. There’s a sharp inhale when she sees him, and he looks up to catch her eye and quickly shakes his head, asking her to not give it away. Seeming to understand, she falls into place beside her two sisters, and allows Meng Yao to… consider his options. He picks Sisi as if on a whim, and then finalizes the purchase.

“Meng Yao?” she asks, when they’re left alone, shortly after. There is paperwork to be completed, and they’re brought tea while they wait.

“Aunt Sisi,” Meng Yao says softly. “It is good to see you again.”

“I didn’t expect… do you really have an uncle in need of a concubine?”

“Jin Guangshan has three brothers,” he answers. “But as I have not acknowledged him as my father, I do not have uncles.”

“I see,” she says. That sharp gaze means, go on. Means, what do you want of me, and it is too suspicious, too disturbing to wait until they leave the brothel to explain.

“I would have bought Mother out, if I could. I dreamed of the day. But she died and… Aunt Sisi has ever been kind to her. You were her greatest comfort, in her final days.”

“Meng Shi was a good woman,” she says shortly. There’s no softness to the words.

“I remembered that Aunt Sisi was an excellent seamstress. There is a shop well known to me, in Yunmeng, and the proprietor is willing to take on a skilled helper. The money is a loan from my Sect Leader, but it will be paid back over a year from my allowance. Aunt Sisi may pay me back over a longer time, we can work out the specifics of that loan, after you’ve settled your living at the shop.”

Sisi is quiet for a long time. “There is a merchant,” she says, “Who offered to marry me.”

“The one with the jealous wife?” he asks. “Does Aunt Sisi believe her life would be peaceful, in her household?” Not that she would even get a chance to live there, but there’s no way that Aunt Sisi could know that.

She doesn’t say anything else, nor does he, while they finish their tea, and eat the snacks laid out. Unlooked for good fortune, at the whims of those more powerful than him had never made Meng Yao feel grateful. He’s not going to expect it in someone else.

“I suppose I should thank you,” she says, only after they’ve left the establishment. He’s leading her towards the docks, to rent a boat to Yunmeng. He has all of her luggage sealed away in a qiankun pouch, though her money is in a purse clutched tightly in her hands.

“Aunt Sisi does not have to,” he says. “This one did not consult you, before choosing this for you. I apologize, for that.”

“Don’t bother apologizing,” she says. “It’s just a lot, without a moment’s notice. But I am grateful.”

“You’ll like Madam Yan, the tailor,” says Meng Yao. “She’s kind.” Of course, Meng Yao can practically see her disbelief; of course the tailor was kind to Meng Yao, a paying customer! What would she be like to an underling, and one with an unpleasant background? But Meng Yao knew more of Madam Yan than just the previous day’s meeting with her, when he’d talked to her and asked her if she needed the help of a talented seamstress who needed somewhere to go. Meng Yao’s skilful enquiries and opinions on the robes that he was having commissioned definitely helped support his argument that he knew what he was talking about, and that if he said someone was skilled they must be, but Meng Yao also knew a little of Madam Yan’s history because her daughter would one day be a Jiang disciple, and Jin Ling would be fond of the Shijie with the lovely robes.

He’s certain that he’s making the right choice, to leave Sisi with her instead of at the brothel, where she’d only face injury, scarring, and heartache.

(And then turn desperate enough to be hired for the most suspect of jobs, of being used in a murder plot, and then locked away for years. Meng Yao had been careful to give her a comfortable life, but he doubts that it was any happier than the lives of the koi in his ponds. He owes her this, even if she does not know why.)

The awkward air between them doesn’t clear, even as they hire a boat to take them the half hour upstream to Yunmeng, nor while they stop at an inn for lunch. He asks her if she’d like to rent a room to freshen up in before she meets her future employer, and she agrees. Meng Yao waits downstairs after paying for the room, returning Sisi’s luggage to her.

While he waits, he wanders between the shops nearby. He doesn’t have much money to spend on frivolities, he’s carefully planned out his finances for the next year to allow him to repay the borrowed sum as soon as possible, but browsing has always been fun. His eyes catch on a hat, scholarly, a bit shorter than Meng Yao’s own preference, and he stares for a moment.

So much ribbing in his previous life, for his height, for his name, for how he was more of an administrator than a son to Jin Guangshan, even during all those years where he was the only acknowledged heir. ‘I’m doing it all for you, Mother,’ he’d told himself, through all of it. Setting his signature hat on his head every morning, like a piece of armor. That everything he did was for his mother… and yet he’d killed so many people in her name.

People like her.

Meng Yao remembers the burning fury of hating being called a whore’s son, of people washing their hands when they touched him, like he was tainted, like the filth was on him instead of their sick, twisted minds. Of being refused a chance to carry his own nephew, shooed away and made to stand apart from the golden heir of Lanling.

My mother is not like those whores, he’d thought to himself, she’s nothing like those filth, and never regretted or repented for his choices until he saw Sisi’s scarred, terrified face among the women he’d ordered to be killed.

The frightened, sobbing women who had been used to kill his own father.

Meng Yao thinks of Anxin’s terrified face as she was dragged out of the brothel this morning. He has no idea what it was about. He doesn’t think it matters. Perhaps they truly would all be better off dying in a cleansing fire than living their sad miserable lives, as he’d reasoned to himself before. That they were deserving of such a death, for how they treated Meng Shi.

All of that… any of that, was easier than the truth.

My mother was a prostitute, and I was ashamed.

Nothing, no temple, no prayers, no statues of guanyin with his mother’s face could ever erase his crimes.

“Meng Yao?” asks a hesitant voice, and he turns around to smile at Sisi. She’s wearing the same subdued outfit she’d worn to leave the brothel, but she’s washed away the sweat from travelling over water on a hot day, and her hair has been redone. She looks like any other woman in the marketplace, though the loveliness of her face is still admirable.

“The shop is not far,” he tells her. “Shall we go?”

[Read part 5 here!]

#meng yao #jgy time travel verse #sisi #meng yao thinking about his mistakes #and growing

137 notes · View notes

aurora077 · 3 years

Text

Ask not for whom the clarity bell chimes, it chimes for thee.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13913863/1/Ask-not-for-whom-the-clarity-bell-chimes-it-chimes-for-thee

Summary: What’s an esteemed sect leader to do when his nephew wants him to spend time with his estranged brother? He hides, of course. Unfortunately said nephew is stubborn... wonder who he got that from? Now he’s forced to talk about -ugh- feelings.

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“Uncle!” Jin Ling panted, moving apart the lapels of his tent to find him sitting there with a cup of tea, “There you are!”

Jiang Cheng snorted, “Where else would I be A-Ling?”

His nephew scowled. “You could be sitting with the rest of us.” He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Jin Ling had been setting him up. It was the third night hunt that he’d gone on with those friends of his that he’d actually invited Jiang Cheng to. Of course normally he’d follow Jin Ling anyway but Jin Ling used to scowl at him and pretend he was part of the scenery like the Ghost General who’d become his unwitting junior-stalking partner. He was surprised the first time he was actually invited. It wasn’t until this last time however that he realised what his nephew was trying to do. Because on every occasion that he was invited someone else was too. Someone who his nephew tried very hard to get him to interact with.

“Go back to your friends A-Ling. You don’t get much time with them as Sect Leader now do you? If you’re taking precious time away from your sect for this the least you can do is use it well.”

“How can I go back without you? I invited you, you know. Even Wen Ning is sitting around the fire with everyone and he doesn’t even need to warm up!”

“Don’t be stupid A-Ling you know very well that my presence will just make things awkward.” As it had the past two times. The juniors were more subdued when he was around and Lan Sizhui looked constantly anxious and alert because if an argument started he would inevitably land up playing peacemaker. The Ghost General seemed to have exhausted his anger in one shot the night he shouted at him in his own home no less, and now spent the time fidgeting around him like he was a bomb ready to explode whenever they weren’t busy spy-- protecting the kids. To say nothing of the other guest. Only the loudmouthed Lan seemed completely fine with his presence and he had to admit, the kid had guts.

Well, except when confronted with ghosts apparently. A matter that gave him no small source of amusement when he really thought about it. It made the last night hunt slightly tolerable because it put him in a good mood --a cultivator afraid of ghosts! Who ever heard of it? (He found out this little fact when the unorthodox Lan was faced with the ghost of a butcher and was apparently way more terrified of the ghost than of him, given that he screamed at the sight of it and clung to Jiang Cheng like a particularly large baby...a move that startled him enough for Zidian to lash out and banish the ghost without him even consciously doing it. Lan Jingyi couldn’t look at him for the rest of that hunt without turning beet red. It was hilarious. Contrary to popular belief, he did have a sense of humour. And if the action led to Jin Ling sticking closer to him than usual while petulantly glaring at the Lan all the while, well he wasn’t going to complain...much.)

His thoughts sobered as his nephew, already worked up from running around to find him only to realise he was just in his tent all along, lost his composure. “I’m not being stupid! Is it so bad to want you two to get along?”

“Aha! I knew it. So you admit you’ve been inviting me so that Wei Wuxian and I would what, fall into each other’s arms and cry and be bosom buddies again?”

Jin Ling flushed, “You don’t have to make it sound like that jiujiu!” Then he deflated and said in a smaller voice, “You’re the only two people I have left to call family.”

“And don’t say the Jins are my family, you know they’re not!” he snapped before Jiang Cheng could even open his mouth. Not that he would have said that anyway, the only other Jin he had considered family in that viper’s pit was Jin Zixuan who was cold in his grave.

“I just want the only family I have left to be on good terms, is that too much to ask?” his nephew continued, pouting slightly. A habit that he had been steadily leaving behind as he got accustomed to his role as Sect Leader Jin. He knew Jin Ling must have been incredibly upset to let it show. Indeed his eyes were starting to look shiny.

But Jiang Cheng was tired. Jin Ling was young enough to be optimistic. Jiang Cheng hadn’t been that way for a long, long time. He was prepared to be angry with his nephew for this when he finally confronted him about pushing him and Wei Wuxian together, but one look at that round pouty face made all the anger drain out of him suddenly as he was transported back to a young Jin Ling asking him about his parents after being bullied for being an orphan for the first time and being unable to answer without being choked up himself.

“A-Ling,” he said softer than usual, “Sometimes things just don’t work out the way we want them to.” “I should know,” he said bitterly, staring into his tea with a frown, recalling how the one thing he was most sure about all those uncertain years ago came back to bite him in the ass in the most horrible way possible. Even in the depths of his despair he had never regretted what he did to save Wei Wuxian. Now though...if he had only known what it would lead to... But how could he have ever even fathomed what would happen? Wei Wuxian did the impossible time and time again. His own sacrifice was rendered completely worthless. Just like him he supposed.

“But can’t you just try to get along with him?” his nephew continued, ignorant to his musings.

“I’m polite to him aren’t I? I don’t just flat out ignore him. And we haven’t even argued,” he said grumpily, still frowning at his tea like it personally wronged him. There was once a time when arguing would have solved everything. They’d air out their grievances and come out all the better for it. But Wei Wuxian didn’t seem to be inclined to do that any longer. That he’d attacked him instead of falling back into their routine that day in Lotus Pier’s ancestral hall was all the evidence he needed, even before Wei Wuxian said what he did in the temple.

His nephew huffed, “That’s not what I mean by get along and you know it!”

“It’s a two-way street A-Ling!” he bit out. Forcing himself to restrain his steadily rising temper he continued, “I’m aware you want us to act like a family but I don’t need to remind you of what happened on that horrible day do I? You were there. You heard him. He didn’t care for apologies. For him, it was a lifetime ago. He wants the past to stay the past. And it was all about repayment. Everything he did, he did because he felt he owed my parents and your mother.”

The bitterness crept back into his voice, “He wants nothing more to do with me or the Jiang sect. The least I can do is respect his wishes. After all, I’d be nothing without him, as his Ghost General took pleasure in reminding me. The only one who was foolish enough to hold onto things all this time was me. Besides, you weren’t there A-Ling, the first time around. I wasn’t enough for him then, what makes you think I’d be enough for him now? He has his Hanguang-Jun to hang off of, he has no need for a brother he never even considered one. And why would he? It’s not as if that accursed Jin Guangyao was entirely wrong anyway.”

“What exactly do you mean by that!?” came an offended voice. They both whipped around in shock.

“Wei Wuxian, were you eavesdropping?” he snarled, “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“I just came to see if Jin Ling found you, but never mind that! Explain yourself! How could you say a thing like that?” he said, outraged, pushing his way fully into the tent.

“Did I say anything wrong, Wei Wuxian? Please, do tell. What did I say that you didn’t say or imply yourself?” he said, angry that Wei Wuxian felt the need to intrude on his space and then had the nerve to get offended after eavesdropping on a private conversation.

Jiang Cheng wasn’t a total idiot despite being made a fool of time and time again by this man. If there was one thing he was particularly good at, it was knowing when he wasn’t wanted. He’d had a lifetime of practice after all.

The core in his body was given out of a sense of duty. After Guanyin Temple he recalled his parents’ last words to Wei Wuxian. Was it any wonder he felt like he had to give away the one thing that he cherished most if it would save Jiang Cheng? The people who brought him in from the streets and raised him had beseeched him with their last words to protect their children with his life, and so, he did. Maybe not in the way they would expect but in giving away his core, he also gave away his life as a cultivator. And debt paid, Wei Wuxian ran off to be with people who he chose for himself.

Jiang Cheng had slowly reconciled with the idea of having a core that wasn’t his because if he didn’t, what would be left of him? Yunmeng Jiang needed him and so did Jin Ling. He had no choice but to carry on like he had been doing for what felt like his whole life... for his sect and his nephew. The weight of responsibility that he had didn’t go away just because his once shixiong embodied his sect motto more than he did. His entire life revolved around duty; once again he recalled how the one thing he did that went against duty, that he did out of love, caused a chain reaction of misery.

Wei Wuxian seemed stunned, his mouth opening and closing like those fish he had liked to catch so many years ago.

“Do you really think like that?” he croaked, “After all we’ve been through, you think I don’t care for you?”

“All we’ve been through?” Jiang Cheng hissed, leaving his now cold tea and standing up to face him with a stormy look on his face,“Why are you now talking about all we've been through? What I know about all we’ve been through, Wei Wuxian, is that the one thing I wanted after losing my home, my parents, and the rest of my sect, was my second in command by my side. The second in command that my sister called her blood brother* in a way I was never allowed to. I had thought that despite the fact that we were unable to label our relationship thanks to my parents, that we understood what we were to each other. That he would do as he promised and stand with me. But what did he do instead of staying by my side? Out of a sense of duty to the sect, he mutilated himself to give me his precious golden core, his life force as a cultivator, without telling me! Without asking me if I would let him do that to himself for me. He made me believe that I regained my own and that the alcoholism and lazing around was because he didn’t respect me enough to support me as sect leader in a time where the leaders of the other sects would pounce at the first sign of weakness. He avoided meetings and banquets where he should have rightfully stood beside me and I wondered, what happened to his promise of support?”

Jiang Cheng’s body was heaving, having let out the words that had clogged up his chest for over thirteen years.

He continued, more softly now, resigned and tired, “He left out crucial information about himself that could have allowed me to see the situation for what it was. He let me think that he didn’t care if we lost face in front of the others, during a time when we couldn’t afford to lose face. Then he ran off to the Burial Mounds to save the rest of the Wens and refused my protection.”

(I'm afraid you don't know that the Wen cultivator whom Wei WuXian wanted to save was called Wen Ning. We owe him and his sister Wen Qing gratitude for what happened during the Sunshot Campaign he had said, in defense of Wei Wuxian. It wasn’t enough. The hatred for the Wens was too great, and they hadn’t been aware of the Jin sect’s machinations at that time. But if he couldn’t save them he could at least save Wei Wuxian. Except Wei Wuxian hadn’t wanted him to. Just another failure to add to his list. Jin Guangyao was right after all. Maybe... if he had insisted… But it wouldn’t have changed a thing would it? Since unbeknownst to them there was Jin Guangyao himself working against them. So in the end it was a lie wasn’t it… the idea that he could have kept Wei Wuxian safe was a lie. Because the Jin sect wanted his seal all along. Whether he was in the Burial Mounds or in Yunmeng that fact would not have changed. But knowing was one thing, and feeling was another. And Jin Guangyao had known this and taken advantage of it.)

“Jiang Cheng…” Wei Wuxian said, sounding pained, “I…”

“You wanted me to renounce you,” he said, interrupting brokenly, “That was your grand idea. You let me think that you didn’t respect me rather than telling me outright that you couldn’t do certain duties anymore. Even if you had to lie and say it was Wen Zhuliu’s fault it would have been better than making me think you didn’t care. Why...why didn’t you trust me?”

His voice cracked but he shakily continued, “That fight we feigned...why would you let me injure you like that? You had your Ghost General break my arm but you had no core. Had I known, do you think I would have stabbed you anyway? Was our relationship that poor? Just because we never labelled it does that mean it didn’t exist then Wei Wuxian? I thought that we understood…”

He broke off to choke back a sob.

“You said you could control the resentful energy...the seal. I trusted you. I may not have reacted very well when the sect leaders tried to drive a wedge between us but I trusted you regardless. I trusted you even though you had been acting unreliable. I trusted you up until the moment A-jie died to protect you. You think you’re the only one who lost it then? The only one who went mad with grief? Do you think if you hadn’t died from the seal’s backlash I would have killed you? Because even now I don’t know the answer to that question. But what I do know is that the two of you broke me; one after the other you died, just like that. We promised that it would always be us three didn’t we? If it wasn’t for A-Ling I might have joined you then and there sect be damned.”

He was too far in the past to notice the strangled sound his nephew made in the background on hearing his words. Wei Wuxian, though, was as stiff as one of his corpses (or even more accurately, his annoying husband). He couldn’t seem to make a sound if he tried. His heart was pounding, disbelieving of the words he was hearing. Shellshocked, he just let Jiang Cheng rant.

“Then, when our old school friend somehow manages to scheme his way into bringing you back to the land of the living and clears your name in the process, what do you say? Take it as repayment to the sect Jiang Cheng, let’s not mention it again. Forget it. It’s all in the past. As if I could ever forget it. As if I’ll ever get the image of A-Jie dying in my arms out of my mind. As if the image of you getting torn apart by corpses right in front of me hasn’t been seared into my brain for all these years. And you want me to forget it. You come back and run off with Lan Wangji. You come to Lotus Pier and what do you do? Go to make bows in the ancestral hall with freaking Lan Wangji. The man who we all thought hated your guts even before the whole Yiling Laozu schtick. It’s been easy for you to forget and move on hasn’t it? I’m the only one stuck with these memories. I’m the only one who held on to promises,” he scoffed self-deprecatingly, “Falling apart in front of everyone in that temple and claiming you owed the sect was all I could do given that you would never come back for me. But you abdicated yourself of that responsibility too so what else could I say? Don’t talk about all we’ve been through Wei Wuxian. In the end, I’m the only one left who cares about that.”

“You’re wrong!” Wei Wuxian yelled, the accusation of not caring seeming to strike a chord, breaking him out of his state of speechlessness, “How could anyone give up a core for duty? I said it was repayment because I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me. I know we have our differences but I still know you enough. Don’t tell me now that you know that you don’t see everything you did to rebuild the clan differently! You’ve always felt inferior because of me and I never wanted to put you in that position. How could I have told you what I did? I didn’t want to hurt you, and don’t say you wouldn’t have been hurt because you would have! How can you say I don’t see you as a brother? How can you not have known how much I…”

He trailed off and started again, eyes glossy, “In the end, your life was worth more than mine and I did promise your parents I would protect you. I cared about you much more than I cared about cultivation. I didn’t want you to give up, and you looked like you would. I wanted you to live and be the leader you were always meant to be. I found a method that would work and in the end it wasn’t a hard decision to save you. Even if I didn’t survive it, I would have been happy to have been of use to you. You could not be lost; you were Yunmeng Jiang’s last hope. I could be replaced. And I was right! Look how well you’ve done. The Jiang Sect is flourishing now, better than before and it’s all thanks to you. So if I had the choice to change whether I gave it to you or not, I wouldn’t. I’d do it again!”

“You really are arrogant aren’t you?” Jiang Cheng intended to sound harsh but instead he sounded closer to despair. “You think that because you think something is so then it must be. You think everyone else feels the same way about you as you do. You’re the only one who thought that you could afford to be sacrificed. Nobody who cared about you thought of you as disposable. Funnily enough I’m sure your irritating husband would actually agree with me for once.”

“Lan Zhan’s not--”

“Shut up! Who asked you to destroy yourself? Do you think I wanted this? Do you think A-Jie wanted this? It’s why you made sure we sent her away isn’t it? I only realised it later on. She would have put a stop to it. You did what you wanted to do as always. Mother and Father’s wishes came before my own with you didn’t it? So what if I was depressed? How was that worth your life? Do you think I would be happy that you lost your cultivation because of me? Whatever ‘inferiority’ I felt I’ve never once wished for you to be destroyed because of it. But you don’t seem to acknowledge other people’s feelings for you, do you? We loved you, you complete imbecile! How could you for one second think that we’d be okay with you dying to give me a core? You said you may not have survived it well that much I gathered on my own! Nobody ever did such a thing of course the risks were high. Did you ever consider what would happen if you did die? Would Wen Qing just bury you in secret and a-jie and I would be left wondering what happened?” he said, openly crying now and not even bothering to try and stop it. Not like Wei Wuxian hadn’t seen him look even worse than this. But he continued his rant nevertheless. A few tears couldn’t stop him now that he was on a roll.

“I would wake up with a brand new core and one brother less, which is exactly what happened except you came back from the Burial Mounds… but there would have been no coming back from dying then. You’re only here now because your famously ignominious death got you summoned as an evil spirit!” he paused to wipe his nose and continued, voice devastatingly melancholy,“Do you know how I felt when I found you missing? I came down that mountain expecting to see you waiting there with that annoying grin of yours, but you were gone. Vanished into thin air and nobody could tell me what happened to you. I feared the worst. And I was right to! Nobody’s ever walked out of the Burial Mounds. We had no idea where you were and everyone was whispering that you were dead. A-Jie and I refused to believe it; how could you be gone? All I could think of was that maybe if I hadn’t gone up that mountain you wouldn’t have been in a position to get captured in the first place. It was all my fault. What was the point of me getting back my core if you died because of it when in the first place I lost it to--”

He stopped. No. He couldn’t say that. He never meant for Wei Wuxian to find out what he did. After the events at the Guanyin Temple he’d considered coming clean but had held back. It would have seemed as if he was lamely throwing it out there. Like ‘ha it isn’t only you who can sacrifice’. It would just seem petty and like he was trying to one-up Wei Wuxian, and to him that would have diminished the worth of his actions. He’d done it without hesitation, expecting to die but preferring that to the alternative aka letting it be Wei Wuxian instead. He hadn’t done it to get acknowledgement. (He was man enough to admit --to himself at least after lots of time to think in the aftermath- that Wei Wuxian probably felt the same, except if the Wens had caught him, Wei Wuxian would have surely died, whereas without a core Jiang Cheng just felt like dying. So really in the end there was no need for Wei Wuxian to risk his life because Jiang Cheng would not have actually lost his.)

Surprisingly, Jin Ling had actually noticed his hesitation --which on later consideration made him realise his nephew was really growing up and he’d had some strong feelings about that-- but by that time it was too late even if he intended to say anything. It wasn’t as if Wei Wuxian had the time of day for him then anyway. He hadn’t even glanced Jiang Cheng’s way before making off with his stubborn donkey… and Lil Apple.

“When you lost it to what?” Wei Wuxian said hoarsely, still disbelievingly processing what was being said to him and latching on to the thing he actually knew instead, “I’ve never faulted you for wanting to retrieve your parents’ bodies. You were grieving.”

Jiang Cheng was flabbergasted. His tears stopped abruptly in his shock. He had never actually given much consideration to how Wei Wuxian determined he was in Lotus Pier and why. When he had woken up in Wen Qing’s domain all he’d been told was that Wen Ning helped Wei Wuxian save him. At the time he was too empty and hurt to think much about anything further than that he was alive and broken, and then all the other shit in his life happened and he hadn’t given that question a second thought. But to think, all this time and…

“That’s what you thought I was… Okay yes, that’s why I was in Lotus Pier,” he said decisively. He couldn’t believe Wei Wuxian thought he was that foolish but better he believed it was because Jiang Cheng was a grief stricken child that went back on his own. He wouldn’t blame himself then.

Except Wei Wuxian’s eyes narrowed. He may have been struggling with many complicated emotions but his mind was still sharp. “Jiang Cheng,” he said slowly.

“What!?”

“You went back for your parents’ bodies, right?”

“...”

“Right?” he said, stalking forward and clasping Jiang Cheng’s shoulders urgently. “Yes! That's what I said! Have you developed a hearing problem now?” Jiang Cheng barked defensively, half-heartedly struggling in his suddenly tight grip.

But Jiang Cheng hadn’t said that, he did.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“Jiang Cheng! Why were you in Lotus Pier?”

“It doesn’t matter! Let it go, Wei Wuxian. It’s all in the past like you said.”

But Wei Wuxian had a sick feeling in his gut.

“You didn’t go back on your own, did you?” he said, chest tightening as his certainty grew.

His grip went slack. “You didn’t choose to go back. So why…”

“But I did choose,” Jiang Cheng said, a rueful smile forming on his face. It was his choice to step out from where he was hidden and distract the Wen soldiers. Although arguably, in the moment, there was no choice at all because letting them take Wei Wuxian was never an option.

“No…. No, if it wasn’t for your parents then you wouldn’t leave shijie. You wouldn’t have chosen to go back. You’re not stupid. You wouldn’t have tried to take back Lotus Pier by yourself.”

“As you said, I was grieving. Maybe I was reckless. You were there, you would have taken care of a-jie.”

“No, shijie was sick, you wouldn’t have left!”

He remembered going out to buy some food and medication for Jiang Yanli, who was too ill to take care of herself. There was a moment when he’d been afraid he’d be caught by some Wen soldiers but then they’d been distracted and he’d breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that the Wens had caught up too quickly and he had to get the others out of there asap. He’d gone back with the supplies intending to let them know only to find that Jiang Cheng was gone.

But… thinking of it… hadn’t they left him alone because someone shouted ‘I’ve got him’?

No!

It couldn’t be.

“Jiang Cheng… Tell me you didn’t.”

“I can’t tell you I didn’t leave Wei Wuxian, clearly I did,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes.

“No not that. You got caught on purpose. You…” his voice cracked.

“Why would you say that? Who would be foolish enough to get caught on purpose. You’re overthinking. Didn’t you just say I wasn’t stupid?” Jiang Cheng retorted.

“Didn’t you just say that maybe you were reckless?” he fired back, tearing up, “How could you… Why?? Why didn’t you just let them take me?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed, “Well aren’t you full of yourself. Not everything is about you, Wei Wuxian.” Why wouldn’t Wei Wuxian just drop it? Didn’t he know there was only pain going down this road?

He laughed, a broken hollow thing. “No, not everything is about me. But this is. My memory is full of holes but I remember that day. I remember how it felt to find you gone. And now, now I remember what happened before I found you missing. Why did you do it?”

He tightened his grip on Jiang Cheng once more and shook.

“You should have let them take me. How could you do such a foolish thing?” he almost screamed, tears leaking down his face.

“How could I do such a foolish thing? How could you carve out your core and give it to me?” Jiang Cheng growled.

“You were the new Sect Leader! Why would you give up your life like that? I promised that I would protect you with my life. Why would you throw it away for me? Your mother was right, it was all my fault. I wasn’t wor-- mmph!” Jiang Cheng covered his mouth.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence! Were you not listening to a thing I said?!! Who gives a shit about worthiness? Do you think a-jie was thinking about worthiness when she threw herself in front of that blade for you? I certainly wasn’t thinking about worthiness when there were Wen soldiers about to capture you and take you to Wen Chao for his torturing pleasure. Who was going to let him take you? He dared?! Did I just stand aside when that Wang Lingjiao demanded your hand? And not in marriage! Why would I stand aside for some measly soldiers?”

He’d come to terms with the fact that taking the blade was his sister’s choice. He’d done the same after all, in a different way but nevertheless… he did. If this was a few years, heck months, ago he’d probably still be painfully in denial. Yanli’s death had unhinged him. And it had taken Jin freaking Guangyao to deliver a proverbial slap in the face for him to start to reflect on his own behaviour, as well as that of his siblings, with a clearer mind. Despite the fact that he’d come to the conclusion that Jin Guangyao was wrong about a great many things (given that he conveniently didn’t mention that he would have manipulated things in the Jin’s favour no matter what Jiang Cheng did), it had been the push he needed to work through his years of resentment. It had taken a while and was probably still going to take some more time, but he’d been learning a great deal about himself.

Which is why he was so mad at Wei Wuxian, whose tears were dripping onto the hand Jiang Cheng was using to cover his self-deprecating mouth. “How can it be that Lan Wangji hasn’t managed to get you to stop that? You’re sickeningly in love with each other and the entire cultivation world knows it, yet you have the nerve to come here and say you’re not worthy? To my face? A-Jie would be sad. Your sickening husband would be sad.” He was sad.

He grimaced as Wei Wuxian licked his hand in an attempt to dislodge it, possibly because he insulted Lan Wangji again and Wei Wuxian had a compulsive need to defend the man.

“Nice try,” he grinned, “But I’ve changed A-Ling’s dirty diapers, a little spit isn’t going to gross me out.”

His nephew, whose presence had been totally forgotten by both of his uncles, squawked in indignation. Jiang Cheng didn’t acknowledge it. If he had turned to look, he might have seen that the boy was shedding silent tears the whole time in solidarity with their emotional meltdowns. Jin Ling also briefly had the thought that Ouyang Zizhen would have loved to witness this spectacle and would definitely have declared it novel material.

Ignoring his nephew’s reactions, Jiang Cheng addressed Wei Wuxian, “Do you think that Lan Wangji would say you aren’t worth sacrificing for? Do you think he’d say you’re replaceable?”

Unable to speak, Wei Wuxian just shook his head. Lan Zhan would be hurt if he said those things.

“And why do you think that is Wei Wuxian? Why would Lan Wangji not think that?” He squished Wei Wuxian’s cheeks, forcing him to speak with fish lips. “B..cs e lv.s muh?”

“Exactly.” He finally let go of Wei Wuxian’s face.

“Jiang Cheeeng *hic*” cried Wei Wuxian.

“What!?” “I love you too,” Wei Wuxian said while sobbing some more and throwing himself at Jiang Cheng.

“Who said anything about love? Get off of me!”

“Y..*hic* youuuu did!” He clung to Jiang Cheng and refused to let go until Jiang Cheng gave in (but not before struggling a bit, had to at least look like he resisted) and hugged back just as fiercely. The two of them stood there holding each other and weeping for a solid quarter of an hour.

Wei Wuxian felt raw inside. He had never expected that Jiang Cheng would… It had never occurred to him that Jiang Cheng distracted their pursuers just to save him. Him. Jiang Cheng had let himself be taken instead. Jiang Cheng who was so prideful and who had blamed him for bringing ruin to Lotus Pier. That Jiang Cheng had been angry with him and yet saved him anyway. Saved him knowing that he was likely going to die for it. Saved him because he loved him. What else could he do now but cry? He felt wrung out. Like his world had shifted.

---

“Sooo…” said Jin Ling, clapping his hands together once decisively and smirking slightly (after drying his own tear-filled eyes), “Since you guys ended up falling into each other's arms and crying, that means that the only thing left is for you to become bosom buddies again.”

“Brat!” Jiang Cheng sniffed, pulling away from Wei Wuxian to threaten his nephew, “Are you looking to get your legs broken?!”

“No thank you!” he cried, rushing out of the tent quickly, only to bump squarely into Lan Sizhui who only managed to keep them both upright thanks to the infamous Lan arm strength that Jin Ling may or may not have been admiring surreptitiously the entire trip.

“What are you all doing out here?” Wei Wuxian asked, upon fixing his face and following Jin Ling out and seeing the rest of the juniors and Wen Ning nervously huddled outside of Jiang Cheng’s tent.

“Senior Wei!” fretted Lan Jingyi, “We were so worried!”

“Yeah, we thought something might have happened since you guys were taking so long to come back and we came to check it out but then we couldn’t get in! We had no idea what was going on inside,” said Ouyang Zizhen who had tear tracks on his face. He had clearly expected Wei Wuxian to come out as a corpse.

Wei Wuxian was stunned and looked at Wen Ning for confirmation.

“I would have tried to break in but A-Yuan stopped me,” said Wen Ning sheepishly and if he could blush his face would have been bright red.

“Are you all stupid?” snapped Jiang Cheng, “Am I a person that looks like I have a death wish? Who would take care of my sect if Hanguang-Jun murdered me?”

“A..ah I told them that Jin Ling would have come for help if anything was going on,” Sizhui piped up, “ I told you guys not to worry so much.”

Responsible as always, that Lan Sizhui. How someone like Lan Wangji raised a well spoken boy like that was a mystery to Jiang Cheng. Though he guessed Lan Xichen would have had a hand in it too. The boy did remind him very much of the Lan Sect Leader. Only in temperament however, looks-wise… well he stopped that train of thought before it could go too far. Some things were probably best left unacknowledged, though he was spending way too much time observing the juniors and the Ghost General on night hunts not to notice… well again, best to let sleeping dogs lie.

“Finally! Someone with sense,” was all Jiang Cheng muttered in the end.

“But how come you couldn’t come in?” Wei Wuxian asked curiously.

“Ah well…” Jin Ling rubbed the back of his head, “I kinda sorta maybe put up a privacy ward when you two started airing grievances. No need for the whole camp to hear about family business.”

“This kid…” Wei Wuxian laughed, secretly pleased that Jin Ling seemed to have accepted him. “Come here!” He slung his arm around Jin Ling’s neck and held him in a death grip to ruffle his hair. “Let go of me!” Jin Ling protested, pushing half heartedly at his arm. Two soft jingles followed the movement.

“Wait,” said Ouyang Zizhen, eyes widening, “Did you hear that?” “Is that…” queried Sizhui, also noticing the sound.

“It’s a clarity bell!” announced Jingyi, “ Senior Wei, why do you have a Jiang clarity bell?”

“Ah well.. It’s mine?”

“Huh, since when?!”

“Uh since I joined the Jiangs?”

“Why do you sound like you’re questioning it, idiot!?” said Jiang Cheng, barely refraining from whacking the back of his head. He did remember that his shixiong’s new body was frail.

“Ah hehe, I’m not, I’m not,” he raised his hands placatingly.

“But we’ve never seen you wear it, Senior Wei,” said Ouyang Zizhen innocently.

“That’s because I gave it back when I defected,” he said sheepishly.

“Then why do you have it now?” questioned Lan Jingyi, somewhat bluntly.

“Kid, has anyone ever told you you talk too much?” said Jiang Cheng.

“I’m not a kid!” he pouted, at the same time that Jin Ling said, “All the time!”

And well sure he technically wasn’t a kid anymore, at 21, but if Jiang Cheng admitted that then his 19 year old nephew wouldn’t be a kid either and Jiang Cheng wasn’t ready to accept that yet.

Lan Jingyi shot a rancid look at Jin Ling, who cheated and hid behind Sizhui, and turned back to Wei Wuxian like a dog with a bone. (Which was a hilarious analogy because, you know it’s a dog and they all knew what Wei Wuxian thought of dogs.)

“Does this mean you’re going back to the Jiangs then, Senior Wei?”

“As if his husband would ever let that happen,” Jiang Cheng snorted before he could answer.

“Hanguang-Jun lets Wei-qianbei do whatever he wants!” Lan Jingyi said, unable to hide the starstruck tone he used with Lan Wangji’s title.

Jiang Cheng sighed, “I forgot I was with the Hanguang-Jun fanclub.”

Lan Jingyi turned red and was ready to retort but Wei Wuxian cleared his throat and derailed the tirade before it could start. “Nobody’s going anywhere except to bed. As for the bell, Jiang Cheng just returned what was originally mine in the first place. It’s not a big deal.”

It absolutely was a big deal.

He couldn’t believe Jiang Cheng had held onto it all this time. He was sorely tempted to burst into tears again. Much like Chenqing, it was kept in pristine condition. Before they left the tent Jiang Cheng had shoved it at him like it was burning and told him to come home sometimes (“even if you have to bring your prissy husband with you”). It so was a big deal. Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan did not like each other at all. He privately thought that as much as he loved Lan Zhan and wanted to show him Lotus Pier, he’d make the first few visits on his own. Best not to push Jiang Cheng too much.

“Well I’m happy for you, Young Master Wei,” said Wen Ning, smiling as much as his face allowed. He at least had an idea of what it meant. Not just in general, but to Wei Wuxian.

“Thank you, Wen Ning.” He smiled softly at his friend.

“Well, I’ve had enough talking for one day,” said Jiang Cheng, “I’m going to go to bed. If you’re all going to continue talking, please do it somewhere that’s not right in front of my quarters.” And with that he bid them all goodnight and ducked back into his tent.

“Ah yes, I think it is past your Lan bedtimes is it not? You two also need to skedaddle,” Wei Wuxian said to the little Lans.

“Of course Senior Wei, we’ll head in now,” said Sizhui who promptly did as he said and turned to step into a tent.

“Hey! Why are you going into the Young Mistress’ tent?” called Jingyi, “Weren’t we supposed to share?”

“Ah well Jin Ling offered,” Sizhui explained.

“You just want to take advantage of his very fancy sect leader tent,” accused Lan Jingyi.

“Hehe guilty as charged,” he said,“Goodnight Jingyi. And to you Wen-qianbei, Wei-qianbei, Zizhen.” He left all four of them standing there and went to bed.

“No fair, I want to sleep in a fancy sect leader tent too. Ours is not nearly as comfortable,” lamented Jingyi.

Wei Wuxian couldn’t share the sentiment because his Lan Zhan always made sure he was the most comfortable. But he also couldn’t resist teasing Jingyi.

“There’s a very fancy sect leader tent right here,” he smirked, “Enter at your own peril.”

Lan Jingyi blanched and squeaked, “Never mind!”

Zizhen laughed heartily at him, “Better luck next time buddy!”

---------

Author’s note: * Since I read the translation of MDZS I am not sure how Yanli refers to Wei Wuxian in the novel other than as a brother which in English does not convey as much as the Chinese text would. In The Untamed episode 25 however when she is defending him from Jin Zixun she refers to him as didi, which I have gathered is what you would call a younger blood related brother, rather than shidi which would be the term for a martial brother. Since I don’t know Chinese though correct me if I’m wrong ^^;

Also I don’t recall the novel mentioning if wwx had a clarity bell or not so I am working with the assumption that much like the Lans’ forehead ribbons, the Yunmeng Jiang disciples would have a clarity bell... in The Untamed, Yanli gives him one when she shows him her wedding dress but I am taking creative liberties and saying he already had one as a member of the clan. Maybe main family members and disciples have different ones like the Lan ribbons but I’m leaving that up to interpretation.

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stiltonbasket · 3 years

Note

I have a suggestion for your renouncement au: LWJ making a new song for their baby and WWX crying when he first hears it

(author’s note: please please reblog if you can, since that’s how we get prompts for future chapters!)

For the past two weeks, Lan Zhan has been spending a great deal of time at his guqin.

Wei Wuxian first noticed it when he returned from the lanshi on a clear spring morning (after teaching his bi-weekly talisman theory class, which had all the juniors in it except for Jin Ling) and found Lan Zhan sitting at the low table in the front room, idly plucking at the qin’s smooth strings and making corrections to a jiandu scroll while he worked. He didn’t seem to notice when Wei Wuxian came in, since he only strummed another few notes before smiling at his work with the small sweet smile that he usually saves for Xiao-Yu.

“What are you doing with your qin, sweetheart?” Wei Wuxian called, going over to greet his husband and glancing down in surprise when Lan Zhan laid a sheet of thin paper over the scroll. “Are you marking one of your students’ compositions, Lan Zhan?”

“It is mine,” Lan Zhan said simply, already ushering Wei Wuxian to the kitchen so he could lay out their lunch dishes. “I began it last week.”

“Oh?” Wei Wuxian asked, delighted. The only qin score that Lan Zhan had written—as far as Wei Wuxian knew, at least—was Wangxian, and he found himself both interested and pleased by the thought of listening to something else his beloved had composed. “Can I hear it, Lan Zhan?”

But to his surprise, Lan Zhan only shook his head and filled Wei Wuxian’s bowl with rice. “Not yet, xingan. But when it is ready, you will be the first one to hear it.”

After that, Lan Zhan took care to work on the score when Wei Wuxian was away from the jingshi, either teaching the juniors or visiting the rabbits or going on walks with Lan Xichen, and Wei Wuxian often returns home to find his husband just putting Wangji away, or halfway through the process of clearing away his writing things, and pouts about Lan Zhan’s reticence until Lan Zhan kisses a smile back onto his face and spends at least half an hour holding him close under their new purple quilts.

“Be patient, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan chides, when he catches Wei Wuxian combing through the box of discarded compositions under their bed to see if the new one might be tucked away amongst them. “You will hear it in time.”

“How long, then?” Wei Wuxian complained. “Haven’t I waited long enough, Lan Zhan? Is it not finished yet?”

“No,” comes the reply, followed by a devastatingly tender kiss to his lips and another on the tip of his nose. “When it is, I will show you right away.”

And then, in true Lan Zhan fashion, he refuses to say any more about it.

But Wei Wuxian ends up forgetting the matter before the end of the month, as he tends to do whenever Lan Zhan tells him not to worry about something—and anyway, preparing for their little one’s arrival and then bringing her into the world was a very efficient distraction, given the fact that neither he nor Lan Zhan really knew anything about babies younger than one or two years old. They gathered drawers full of little clothes and diapers, bought a trunk of tiny plush dolls and blocks, and tried (and failed) to find someplace to put all the toys Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng sent them, and then they had to find a cradle and rearrange some of the furniture so that the baby can have room to move about when she gets big enough to crawl.

Wei Wuxian also had to spend a week cultivating with Lan Xichen, clearing out his meridians with his brother-in-law’s spiritual energy, and that was only finished just in time for baby A-Lan to come safely into her parents’ arms during a thunderstorm in the summertime.

And then, when Wei Wuxian wakes up and tries to soothe A-Lan back to sleep on the night after her full-moon birthday, Lan Zhan pulls his qin out of its case and beckons Wei Wuxian over to sit at his side. Wei Wuxian expects to hear Wangxian, of course, since the matter of that other song has long since been forgotten; but then Lan Zhan plucks out an unfamiliar chord, one that makes A-Lan’s big eyes widen with interest, and touches something deep and soft in Wei Wuxian’s heart like sunlight touching the heart of a summer flower.

Lan Zhan wrote this for Lan-bao, he realizes, covering his mouth as a tear slips down his cheek. He’s played this for her before, hasn’t he?

“Before she was born,” Lan Zhan says softly. “I played it while you were asleep, to calm her.”

“It’s beautiful,” Wei Wuxian whispers, wiping his eyes with A-Lan’s fluffy blankets. “Play it again, Lan Zhan?”

And Lan Zhan does, twice and then twice more, until Shuilan drifts off to sleep in Wei Wuxian’s lap and leaves her parents to trade quiet kisses in the dark over her head.

“Xiaoyao ji,” Lan Zhan murmurs, close beside Wei Wuxian’s ear. “It suits our A-Bao, does it not?”

Wei Wuxian nods. “It does,” he laughs, smiling through his tears. “It’s perfect, Lan Zhan, just like her!”

note: the characters used here for “xiaoyao ji” are 小瑤记 instead of 逍遥记 like the ending theme of the MDZSQ donghua; the original title has been translated as “carefree memories of the past” or “carefree journey,” but 小瑤记 (as far as I know) can be translated as “story of a little treasure” which is why LWJ chose it for A-Lan. The two titles are not pronounced in the same way, and have nothing in common except for the Roman transliteration and the character “记” at the end.

If any of this is inaccurate, corrections are very much welcomed and wanted!

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #renouncement verse #wangxian arranged marriage au #my fic

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gusu-emilu · 3 years

Text

sometimes I forget (3/3)

chapter three: I only want to be a relief

Ship: Jiang Cheng / Wen Ning

Summary: Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng travel to Dafan Mountain to find the cure to Lan Wangji’s fever. Their animosity results in a very strained partnership, which only becomes more complicated when Jiang Cheng develops the fever too. But along the way, they address the scars that haunt them and find something new in each other.

<< Ch. 1 | < Ch. 2 | Bonus | Art

Post-Canon, Rated T - read on AO3 or on Tumblr below

“You have to take it.” Wondering if he should even give two doses of medicine, Wen Ning placed a hand on Jiang Cheng’s forehead to feel his temperature.

A look of raw pleasure appeared on Jiang Cheng’s face.

Wen Ning jerked his hand away.

Wen Ning stood still for a few moments, unblinking. The memorial in front of him loomed a bit larger, while Jiang Cheng’s hand in his own seemed to shrink.

You’re a good person, too, he wanted to say back. Maybe because he believed it. Maybe because it would simplify his thoughts if he could label this man as good or bad, instead of searching for a name with actual meaning. Or maybe just because it would be cruel to answer with silence.

But in the end, silence was all he returned.

Jiang Cheng’s hand shrank a little more.

He thought of how Jiang Cheng had been furious seeing Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji visit the shrine of Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu in Lotus Pier, had lashed out at them. Jiang Cheng’s anger had been unjustified, built on a lie, but now Wen Ning could understand it.

If Jiang Cheng really was a good person, that was a thought Wen Ning could grapple with on his own.

It meant something else to say it out loud in these burial grounds, in front of the memorial of his family.

And what about himself? How could Wen Ning accept these words from Jiang Cheng after leaving Jin Ling an orphan, and failing to save Wei Wuxian from his own self-destruction? What position were they in to call each other good or bad, or anything at all?

“Doesn’t matter,” Wen Ning found himself saying, after such a long time that they should’ve forgotten what they were talking about. At some point their hands had separated.

“No,” Jiang Cheng said, his voice trailing off. “It doesn’t.”

* * *

They sat in the goddess’s cave, waiting for nightfall. The sun had lowered in the sky, but it would be many hours until they could harvest the Ever-Frozen Flower’s nectar.

Jiang Cheng had been surprisingly quiet. He was leaning against the stone wall and toying with Zidian with weak fingers, struggling to make a spark, curling his lips every time he failed. While he sulked in between attempts, his eyes rested softly on the medicine Wen Ning was preparing.

Too quiet.

He must’ve run out of things to criticize, Wen Ning thought.

But he couldn’t deny that the space between them felt different. Since summoning the goddess, Jiang Cheng’s combativeness had faded, and a solemnity had slipped between his feverish tremors.

Was the flu affecting his emotions, or had his behavior changed for another reason?

“Jiang Wanyin,” Wen Ning said as he handed over the medicine, as well as a small basin of water and a wet cloth for Jiang Cheng to cool himself with.

Water dribbled down from the cloth as Jiang Cheng massaged it into his forehead. “What?”

“Who told you where to find the cure?”

The cloth paused, covering one side of his face. “The goddess.” He rubbed the cloth on his neck, a little harder than before. “Who else?”

“That’s not what it seemed like.”

“Well, it was.” He swallowed the medicine, then shuddered at whatever foulness it must’ve tasted like.

Quiet but stern, Wen Ning said, “We’re working on this together, you know.”

Jiang Cheng met his eyes, then looked away and dunked the cloth in the basin of water. “I know.”

Wen Ning still felt like he was hiding something, but decided to drop it. If it were important, it would come up again. Several miraculous hours had passed since their shouting match, and Wen Ning wasn’t eager to provoke another one.

Besides, Jiang Cheng of all people should’ve known the dangers of keeping secrets.

Now that the last dose of medicine was gone, Wen Ning stood. “I’ll go to the village at the bottom of the mountain and buy some more. It won’t be as good as my clan’s, but it’ll still help.”

“Don’t bother,” Jiang Cheng said. “I’ll last.”

“We’ll be here for a while. There’s no cold spring to stifle the fever like Lan Wangji has at the Cloud Recesses. You need medicine.”

“I said, don’t bother.”

“I won’t be long.” Wen Ning headed toward the mouth of the cave.

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“What’s wrong?” Wen Ning turned around, irritated. “Why don’t you want to feel better?”

Jiang Cheng scowled. He tried to sit up taller, like he needed a better angle to yell at Wen Ning, but he just sank back into a slump. “Maybe I don’t think you should leave!”

Suddenly he looked small. His violet clan leader robes, the silver snake of Zidian, the sweat dripping down his brow, the pink flush in his cheeks. It all seemed to swallow him.

For the first time, Wen Ning realized that Jiang Cheng might have been scared. He was used to wielding power and prowess. Now he could barely hold himself upright. He couldn’t even make Zidian crackle.

If the cure didn’t work, in two sunsets time Lan Wangji—the spouse of another of his siblings—would die. And so would Jiang Cheng. Or, if he was fortunate, he’d lose his cultivation abilities, for the second time in his life.

He wants me to keep him company.

Now that Wen Ning knew, he wasn’t surprised. He just hadn’t expected Jiang Cheng to reveal it.

Something about the knowledge was…ironic.

Invigorating, even, if he ignored the possibility that the cure might fail.

“I’m going to get more medicine,” Wen Ning said.

“Stop doing things for me.”

“Whether I leave or not, isn’t that doing something for you either way?” Wen Ning smiled slightly. He wasn’t sure why, but this whole situation was starting to amuse him. Maybe they had been in this cave for too long.

“After that, I won’t leave Jiang-zongzhu all by himself again.”

“You—” Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened. He looked as embarrassed as Wen Ning had expected, and it sent a rush of satisfaction through him.

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng spat. “At least go to a bigger town than that backwater village, and buy better medicine.”

“I’ll go wherever I want.”

“Tch. Good.” Jiang Cheng crossed his arms, but it must’ve taken too much effort to hold them there, because he let them fall limp at his sides again. He flushed redder. “Please, take your time,” he said sarcastically.

“I will.”

Whatever strange exchange was happening right now, Wen Ning was enjoying it. He needed something to distract him from the grief he felt at the memorial, from the growing feeling of uncertainty about whether they’d find the ice-flower once night fell.

Watching Jiang Cheng try to hold together his crumbling dignity was an unexpected solution.

“Well? Are you going or not?”

Wen Ning nodded. “I’m going.” He strolled toward the mouth of the cave, an unusual spring in his step. “I’m just taking my time.”

* * *

On his way back from buying medicine, he searched through the western forest of Dafan Mountain to find the Ever-Frozen Flower. As he expected, there were only common weeds and wildflowers. Perhaps the ice flower was not visible until the coldest point of the night when it bloomed.

He hoped the flower would really be there.

Finally, night blanketed the mountain, and the goddess’s cave grew dark with somber shades of blue. Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng sat next to each other with their backs against the stone wall. Jiang Cheng was about to light a talisman.

“You d-don’t need to,” Wen Ning said. “You should sleep. I’m fine without light.”

The commonplace medicine from the village was not as effective as what Wen Ning had found on the mountain. This medicine was able to alleviate Jiang Cheng’s headache and soreness, but not the heat burning through his body.

Jiang Cheng had removed his outer robe to cool off. It hadn’t helped. At this rate, his hot breath was going to make the cave float into the sky like a paper lantern.

With a drowsy nod, Jiang Cheng fumbled with the talisman and tucked it back in his robes with shaking hands. His eyelids were heavy, but he didn’t look any closer to deciding to go to sleep.

“You really should rest. You were awake all day and the night before.”

After a long silence, Jiang Cheng adjusted his sweat-drenched robes and spoke, his voice weak and dry. “Do you sleep?”

“I’ll k-keep watch.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Can you sleep?”

Wen Ning paused, surprised by the question. Outside of the slightly invasive remarks of the juniors, it had been a long time since anyone showed interest in what his life was like as a fierce corpse. Everyone was too uncomfortable with his existence to be curious about the details.

“I can,” Wen Ning said. “I don’t need to, though.”

Jiang Cheng shifted his posture. “…Is it any different?”

“Y-Yes, a little.” Wen Ning folded his hands in his lab, gently fiddling with his fingers. “I don’t dream anymore, and I don’t feel any different when I wake up.”

Jiang Cheng looked displeased by this answer. Or maybe he always looked like that. Wen Ning tried to smile and said, “You get used to it.”

Jiang Cheng scoffed. “Right. The way one gets used to anything.”

Despite how sharp his tone was, there was something fragile in his voice. Wen Ning wasn’t sure if they were talking about sleep anymore.

There was no reason for Wen Ning to keep talking, but there was also no reason to stop, so he continued. “At least there are other sensations for me to feel. I can eat and breathe, although I can’t taste or smell. But I can still see and hear the same as I used to.”

As he spoke, Jiang Cheng seemed to deflate next to him. He couldn’t tell if Jiang Cheng’s body was just relaxing or collapsing in on itself. He must’ve really needed sleep. Maybe if Wen Ning talked for long enough, he would drift off.

“Really, all I need is to see, hear, and move. Then I can spend time with people. I can see A-Yuan, and Wei Wuxian, and…” He almost said Jin Ling. That would’ve been a mistake.

The breathing beside him steadied. A sound of slumbering.

Guessing that Jiang Cheng was no longer listening, Wen Ning let his words flow without thinking. “I miss my sense of touch, though. I’d like to feel something softer when I pet Hanguang-Jun’s rabbits.” He sighed. “I used to like so many things. Folding clothes, rolling pebbles in my hands. Feeling the sun at full strength.”

He smiled an empty smile to himself. “I miss the feel of people. Sometimes A-Yuan hugs me. I know what it’s supposed to feel like, and it doesn’t feel like that.” He traced the palm of his hand with a finger. “It doesn’t feel like what it should to A-Yuan, either.”

His mind wandered to Wei Wuxian. Being resurrected in Mo Xuanyu’s body came with its own set of problems for Wei Wuxian, but at least he looked and felt alive to everyone around him. Was alive.

His voice darkened. “I’m sure it’s much better for Wei Wuxian to hug A-Yuan.”

“A-Yuan,” Jiang Cheng echoed.

Wen Ning flinched. Jiang Cheng really was listening.

But if he was honest, that was what he had wanted, wasn’t it?

Jiang Cheng worked his mouth for a few moments. “Lan Sizhui is the only thing left of your clan that you…need.” It sounded like a question.

Where did that come from? With a perplexed tilt of his head, Wen Ning said, “W-W-Well, yes, I think so.”

“Then I…I shouldn’t have said that.” Jiang Cheng’s voice was murky, his eyes downcast.

“Said what?”

There was no reply.

Sifting through his memories of the day, Wen Ning recalled standing the street of the village, the air filled with dust and Jiang Cheng’s scornful words. What kind of descendant doesn’t guard the relics of his own clan?

It had stung. It still stung. Wen Ning could defeat any opponent in battle, but he couldn’t save his clan. Couldn’t even recover their belongings from the village.

He didn’t want to, he realized.

The surname Wen had died with his clan, and he had no intention of restoring it.

That made him feel guiltier.

And what of Wen Qing? What was left of her? No one spoke her name anymore, not even to praise her skills as a doctor. There was no record of her talents and discoveries, for they were all wasted on Wen Ruohan, purposely forgotten by the world. And her breakthrough as the first surgeon to transfer a golden core—well, no one wanted to remember that, either.

They had no legacy. The only people still here to pray that the Dafan Wen found an afterlife were Wen Ning, A-Yuan, and Wei Wuxian. And maybe Lan Wangji.

Although, after visiting the memorial today…

Jiang Cheng would never earn a spot on that list. But the idea of him trying didn’t seem so bad.

Back in the dry yellow streets of Dafan village. A-Yuan is my clan now, Wen Ning had said. It had made Jiang Cheng fall silent, eaten up his disdain, forced him to retreat.

Jiang Cheng also knew what it was like to have nothing left but a child.

It was a pity that he did.

“Go to sleep,” Wen Ning murmured.

Jiang Cheng grunted and closed his eyes. This time he really did fall asleep.

* * *

When Jiang Cheng awakened, he began ripping off his clothes.

“Jiang Wanyin? What’s happening?”

He threw his inner robes to the ground and frantically tugged at his trousers. “I’m burning.” He choked on the words.

Wen Ning jumped up and carried over a basin of water. “Here, you should dri—”

Jiang Cheng dumped the water all over his body, then lost his grip on the basin and poured the rest at Wen Ning’s feet. He finished removing his trousers and sprawled out on the cave floor on his stomach, completely naked, using the wet rock to cool himself.

“I’m s-s-sorry,” Wen Ning said, trying not to look at Jiang Cheng’s bare body. “I prepared the medicine, but I didn’t want to wake you up to give it to you.”

Jiang Cheng flipped onto his back. His eyes were shut tight, and his skin glistened with sweat and the water he had spilled on himself. He spread his limbs farther apart, practically melting into the cave floor.

Wen Ning grabbed a vial of medicine. He knelt down alongside Jiang Cheng, fumbling with the vial’s lid. “Here, I’ll give you another dose now.”

Jiang Cheng opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused. “Tastes bad.” He sounded drunk.

“You have to take it.” Wondering if he should even give two doses of medicine, Wen Ning placed a hand on Jiang Cheng’s forehead to feel his temperature.

A look of raw pleasure appeared on Jiang Cheng’s face.

Wen Ning jerked his hand away.

The expression vanished. Something in Jiang Cheng’s hazy consciousness seemed to recognize that he’d behaved inappropriately, and his eyes darted away.

Wen Ning rested a hand on his forehead again. The look returned. Jiang Cheng’s shoulders relaxed, and his lips parted, a near-silent moan escaping from them.

Warmth.

Without telling himself to do so, Wen Ning slid his hand down to cradle the side of Jiang Cheng’s face. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes and turned into Wen Ning’s palm, until his lips were pressed against the edge of Wen Ning’s hand. He stared at Wen Ning through the corners of narrow eyes rich with pleasure.

Wen Ning almost melted.

No one had welcomed his touch so ardently before. Never like this.

He was a corpse. Even A-Yuan avoided his cold hands.

But Jiang Cheng was hungry for them.

And Jiang Cheng felt hot. So hot that even Wen Ning could enjoy the warmth with his muted senses.

Somehow, the fever did not make Jiang Cheng look sick. It gave him a strange, tortured beauty.

Wen Ning tore his hand away. “Y-You need to take medicine.” He reached for the vial.

“Doesn’t help,” Jiang Cheng groaned. He grabbed at Wen Ning’s hand, but missed.

Wen Ning paused. Slowly, he lowered his arm and let Jiang Cheng take his wrist, heat rushing up his arm all the way to his shoulder. Without breaking eye contact, Jiang Cheng guided Wen Ning’s hand to place it on his collarbone. Jiang Cheng’s chest swelled up and down with deep breaths.

“You’re so cold.” His words were slurred.

“D-Do you…like—”

“It feels good.”

Wen Ning felt dizzy. He pulled his hand away, and Jiang Cheng reached after him with weak arms that he could barely lift. Wen Ning stumbled backward, his head spinning.

“Come back,” Jiang Cheng moaned.

This shouldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t be happening, this shouldn’t be—

“If you drink water and take the medicine,” Wen Ning said, his voice quivering, “I’ll…I’ll…touch you more.”

No! What are you thinking?

Jiang Cheng stretched out an arm limply on the floor toward Wen Ning. He opened his palm. “Okay.”

Wen Ning grabbed the water basin and hurried outside, more to escape Jiang Cheng’s greedy stare than to refill the basin.

When he reached the stream, he dropped onto his hands and knees. Dug his fingers into the mud of the stream’s bank, struggled to steady his swaying body.

After a while, he recovered some composure. He rinsed his hands, then submerged the basin and pulled it up. Looked at his reflection in the sloshing pool.

Empty eyes. Dead grey skin. Black veins.

If he looked hard enough, he could also see the heavy chains that for years had bound his neck and shoulders.

When Jiang Wanyin gets his senses back, he won’t remember you said that. He won’t ask you to touch him again.

Wen Ning should’ve felt relieved.

He didn’t.

At some point he must’ve stood up and then he was back in the cave, helping Jiang Cheng drink water and take the correct dose of medicine. After Jiang Cheng finished the medicine, he lay motionless on his back for a long time. Then he furrowed his brow and stared at the cave ceiling, blinking, as if he were waking up and processing his surroundings for the first time.

Wen Ning waited for a sharp remark. A jab in Jiang Cheng’s tone that would push him and his wayward thoughts back to where they belonged.

Instead:

“Well?”

His voice was clear. Sober.

“Well what?” Wen Ning asked. Had to ask, because it wasn’t possible that Jiang Cheng was waiting for what Wen Ning thought he was.

Jiang Cheng seemed to regret speaking as soon as Wen Ning asked. His gaze darted away. His body tensed.

“…Do you…”

“Nothing,” Jiang Cheng snapped.

Something ravenous surged through Wen Ning’s body. His fists clenched, and he was brimming with agitation, an urge to move, to do anything but kneel here in stillness.

How dare Jiang Cheng dangle this temptation in front of his nose, only to swipe it away and flee with it? He had heard Wen Ning talking before about how he missed the touch of other people.

He knew. He must’ve known what this would to do Wen Ning.

How dare he?

“You still want me to—”

“I don’t!” Jiang Cheng finally looked at Wen Ning, and his face was all angles and panicked fury. He winced, as if shouting had worsened his headache.

Wen Ning pressed his hands onto his knees, gripping them, squeezing them. “Don’t yell at me,” he said quietly.

Jiang Cheng’s lips twinged as if he were about to retort. Then he bit it back and turned to look at the ceiling again.

Everything was silent, except for the roaring in Wen Ning’s ears as he fought to hold himself still.

You’re a corpse. You can’t touch him. You don’t even like him.

Jiang Cheng mumbled something he couldn’t hear.

“What?” There was more urgency in Wen Ning’s voice than he wanted.

Jiang Cheng turned his face away completely. “…Maybe.”

Something leaped in Wen Ning’s chest.

His mind screamed at him not to start, not to go somewhere he was forbidden, but his hand was already pressed firmly into Jiang Cheng’s shoulder.

A heavy exhale escaped Jiang Cheng once Wen Ning touched him. His face tilted a few degrees toward Wen Ning, and now Wen Ning could see the flush across his cheeks, a deep red visible even in the darkness of the cave.

“Is that all?” Jiang Cheng’s voice had all its usual spite, but none if its certainty. “Are—are you scared or something?”

Wen Ning grabbed Jiang Cheng’s jaw and jerked his face toward him. Jiang Cheng’s eyes widened. His breath quivered.

“I think you’re the one who’s scared.”

Jiang Cheng swallowed. “Wen Qionglin.” He almost whimpered the name, his eyes wide and fragile like paper moons.

Suddenly Wen Ning was overcome with an urge to hear his birth name like that.

“Wen Ning.” He slowly released Jiang Cheng’s chin and placed the hand on his shoulder.

“Wen Ning,” Jiang Cheng repeated, like he was tasting the words.

Jiang Cheng’s shoulders were hot. His entire body was hot. Wen Ning rubbed his hands across him in small circles at first, then gradually into long sweeps along his entire torso, down to his hips and out to his biceps, massaging gently, letting the heat trickle into his skin. Jiang Cheng’s eyelids were closed, but Wen Ning could still see the pleasure behind them.

The rest happened in a blur. Fingers at the ties of his robes—were they his hands? Jiang Cheng’s? both?—and then the layers dropped and they didn’t matter anymore, and Wen Ning was lying on top of Jiang Cheng and there were fingers dug in his sides and his face was buried in Jiang Cheng’s neck, and he was so very warm.

Since his death, Wen Ning had started spending a lot of time sitting in the sunshine. He’d bake himself in sunbeams, trying to absorb them like some sleepy cold-blooded monster, imagining that he felt as warm as he did under that same sun during his childhood.

Of course, he never felt that warm.

Sometimes he wished that he could throw a rope around the sun and tug it to the ground so it could sit next to him. So it’s heat would be right beside him and he could touch it. Then the sun would feel the way it used to.

And if the sun felt the way it used to, then, surely, the rest of his life would be back to the way it was. His sense of smell, his heartbeat, Granny, A-Jie—everything. The way it was before the war.

Before the Sunshot Campaign.

Sunshot. How aptly named.

If the war had never happened, could he and Jiang Cheng have been like this in another time?

Wen Ning nuzzled his face deeper into Jiang Cheng’s neck. Jiang Cheng was not as warm as the sun, but he was a person, and that felt even more impossible.

As a fierce corpse, it was just as hard for Wen Ning to touch a person with his bare skin as it was to shoot down the sun.

Especially to touch a person like this.

He lifted his face toward Jiang Cheng’s ear. “Jiang Wanyin?”

“Mn?”

“Do you…like this?”

Jiang Cheng’s body stiffened. He was quiet for a long time.

“…Do you?” he finally said.

Do I?

Wen Ning thought about it. He liked how comfortable he felt.

But this was only happening because Jiang Cheng wanted to cool himself down. If Jiang Cheng hadn’t been burning from the Four-Sunsets Flu, he would’ve had no reason to touch Wen Ning.

He would’ve had no reason to be in the same place as Wen Ning.

Something sank inside him as he realized this was going to end eventually. They would go back to resenting each other, and it would never happen again.

“I think I hate it,” Wen Ning said.

Jiang Cheng shifted his jaw. “I hate it too.”

He buried his face back in Jiang Cheng’s neck. “You don’t hate it enough.”

He pressed his lips into something soft and hot, pulled at it with a kiss, running his teeth over skin. Jiang Cheng sucked in a breath.

He dug this way at Jiang Cheng’s neck, then his shoulders, then his chest, desperately hunting for a spot that would make Jiang Cheng reject him with disgust and shove him to the ground like the carcass he was.

“Wen Ning—” Had he finally done it? “Wen Ning—stop—”

He looked up at Jiang Cheng, who was watching him and frowning.

He waited for the insult.

Jiang Cheng tried to push him to the side. His arms barely had any strength, so Wen Ning just followed the push and rolled himself off Jiang Cheng’s body.

For the first time, the cave floor felt cold.

“We—”

Jiang Cheng pulled his upper body on top of Wen Ning before Wen Ning could say anything. He froze in shock.

Jiang Cheng lowered his lips to Wen Ning’s neck and planted a timid kiss on his skin. He tried to run his hands along Wen Ning’s chest and kiss him again, but he soon fell limp and motionless.

Maybe he was exhausted.

More likely, he hadn’t meant any of this, and regretted starting.

Wen Ning reached up and rested his hands on Jiang Cheng’s arms, gently squeezing him. “You don’t need to do anything.”

“I’m…tired…”

“Then rest.” Wen Ning lifted Jiang Cheng off his body and laid him on the cave floor.

Jiang Cheng struggled feebly. Once his back met the dark rock again, he scoffed. “You didn’t let me finish talking.” The familiar glint of derision was back in his eyes.

“Then what were you going to say?”

He looked away. His voice became wobbly. “I’m tired of…of not…doing anything.” He drew in a breath. “Receiving, and not…” He trailed off.

There was more meaning in those words than could fit in the air between them.

Wen Ning’s gut plummeted.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Jiang Cheng blinked at him.

There were words he had never said, but had thought about saying for a long time, and they all came tumbling out.

“We never asked if you wanted it. It’s just, Wei Wuxian was begging us. He was so determined to do it, and I saw how much he c-c-cared about you. He said it was the most important thing to you, so I—I helped him convince my sister—"

“I don’t want to hear this,” Jiang Cheng snapped. He sat up. “I get it. You’re not like me.”

They glared at each other, hostile static between their eyes.

“You did everything you were supposed to for Wei Wuxian, didn’t you?” He wrinkled his nose and coughed out a scornful laugh. “His perfect, loyal little servant—”

Wen Ning shoved Jiang Cheng down, climbed on top of him and pinned his arms to the ground.

A nerve had snapped inside him. Resentful energy clawed up his throat.

“I am not Wei Wuxian’s servant.”

A wave of catharsis crashed through Wen Ning. Rushed out of his body with those words.

“Is that all you think I am? Wei Wuxian’s Ghost General?”

Jiang Cheng stopped struggling and fell limp, gaping up at him.

Wen Ning didn’t know what he looked like right now, but he might’ve been snarling.

“If all I am is the Ghost General,” he leaned down to Jiang Cheng’s face, “I could treat you very differently right now.”

Fear flashed through Jiang Cheng’s eyes.

Good. Be scared of me. Everyone is scared of me.

He pressed harder into Jiang Cheng’s wrists like he wanted to drive them through the stone floor. Satisfaction swelled inside him at the sight of the Jiang Clan Leader so frightened, so helpless.

Jiang Cheng’s lips quivered. “Then do it.”

Wen Ning kissed him on the mouth. Hard.

Whatever he had expected it to feel like, he hadn’t expected to feel it so fully, and he hadn’t expected to be kissed back.

Soon their bodies were in a tangle, and Wen Ning had wandered elsewhere, his hands tracing lower on Jiang Cheng’s body.

Jiang Cheng flinched, as if he knew what Wen Ning intended to do. “Stop, Wen Ning,” Jiang Cheng moaned. “Stop, I—I can’t—I don’t want that—”

Wen Ning pulled away.

What do you mean, he wanted to ask. But regret and shame had caught up to him as soon as Jiang Cheng spoke.

He had nothing that a living person would want. It was already a miracle that he and Jiang Cheng had even touched each other. What right did he have to ask for more?

“Okay,” Wen Ning said softly, and settled himself on the floor a short distance away.

Jiang Cheng looked uncomfortable.

Suddenly Wen Ning wanted to sink into the ground and hide.

Don’t you know what you are?

All Jiang Cheng had wanted was to cool himself off, and Wen Ning had taken it as an invitation to be…to be with him like a real person.

He’d never get an invitation like that.

He wasn’t a person. He was a weapon. A tool. He had pushed beyond his utility to Jiang Cheng, and now it was over.

“Are you just going to sit there?” Jiang Cheng said.

“S-Sorry.” Wen Ning stood and walked over to his robes to cover himself. And after that, who knows where he’d go. It wouldn’t be somewhere in this cave.

“What’re you doing?” Jiang Cheng spat out the words, but his voice was hoarse and unsure. “I’m not done with you.”

Wen Ning glared at him. “You never started anything to be done with.”

Jiang Cheng’s face fell. His mouth opened and closed a few times. “I…”

This was all a mistake.

“I don’t think that,” Jiang Cheng murmured.

Wen Ning ignored him and began to sling on his robes.

“I don’t think that!”

“Think what?”

Jiang Cheng collapsed his upper body back onto the cave floor and stared at the ceiling. “How the hell am I supposed to just think you’re the Ghost General?” He clenched his fists. “Do you know how hard I try to do that?”

Wen Ning mindlessly crumpled the robes in his hands.

“Both of you are horrible. You. Wei Wuxian.”

The robes were back on the ground, and Wen Ning was standing over Jiang Cheng.

He scowled and looked away. “You should’ve stayed away from me and Jin Ling if you wanted me to hate you.”

Wen Ning was sitting next to him.

“Did you forget I’m sick right now?” Jiang Cheng swallowed. His voice softened. “I didn’t want to…that…I only…”

Wen Ning lay on his side next to Jiang Cheng, and loathed himself for being there, feeling exposed, desperate. Stupid.

“Just start over.”

Wen Ning forgot which of them moved first, but then again it didn’t really matter—none of this would matter once it was over—and they lay on their sides facing each other, arms around each other, chests gently pressed together, legs slightly intertwined. Warmth embraced Wen Ning once more.

After a while, Jiang Cheng dozed off.

He had asked this at least twice before, but Jiang Cheng would not hear him, so Wen Ning asked again, “Do you like this?”

Jiang Cheng made a low sound that could’ve been a yes or a no. Perhaps it was both. “Warmer now,” he said, half-asleep, his words slurred.

Of course.

Wen Ning had hugged Jiang Cheng so long that his body had absorbed the heat, and now he even radiated warmth of his own. His usefulness was truly used up.

“Sorry.” He moved to sit up. “I’ll let you sleep now.”

Jiang Cheng wrapped his arms tighter around him, which didn’t do much given how weak and drowsy he was, but Wen Ning felt it so strongly that if he had breath left, it would’ve been squeezed out of him.

“Where are you going?” It sounded like a plea.

With trembling hands, Wen Ning easily peeled Jiang Cheng’s arms off him and pulled away again. “I can’t cool you off anymore.” He stood and slowly turned to walk toward the pile of his robes.

“Why does everyone keep leaving?”

Wen Ning froze.

Something had broken in Jiang Cheng’s voice.

His eyes were closed, his cheeks pink and damp. His expression had fallen as if dropped off a cliff and cracked open raw on the ground.

Wen Ning weaved himself back in between the spaces of Jiang Cheng’s body. Put one hand on the back of Jiang Cheng’s head and tucked it below his chin. Pressed his face into soft hair.

“Don’t leave,” Jiang Cheng murmured into Wen Ning’s neck. Maybe he was talking to someone in a dream. Maybe to Wen Ning. Maybe to everyone at once.

“I won’t.”

This time, they both fell asleep.

* * *

In the earliest, coldest hours of dawn, Wen Ning went alone to the west side of Dafan Mountain and found the Ever-Frozen Flower at the center of the forest, glowing like enchanted ice in a patch of blue-tinted weeds. He dripped its nectar into a tiny glass vial and left, not bothering to stay and watch the bloom shrivel up once the air grew warmer.

He wondered when was the last time someone touched that flower.

It would’ve been one of his ancestors. Even with all the knowledge that had been lost, small fragments of his family’s work remained to help Wen Ning.

Perhaps the Dafan Wen weren’t quite dead yet.

He gave a drop of nectar to Jiang Cheng. Once he was strong enough to fly on his sword, they journeyed back to the Cloud Recesses.

They said not one word to each other.

The juniors celebrated their return, welcoming them with cheers and waves, ushering them to the cold springs where Wen Ning let Wei Wuxian feed the drop of nectar to Lan Wangji, and soon Lan Wangji was cured.

No one knew that Jiang Cheng had caught the Four-Sunsets Flu. They didn’t need to.

Next they stood at the gate of the Cloud Recesses, Wen Ning and Wei Wuxian on one side, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling on the other.

“Thank you,” Wei Wuxian said. He was beaming. “I really can’t thank you enough.”

Wen Ning and Jiang Cheng only nodded. They still didn’t speak, because if they said something to Wei Wuxian, it might have been mistaken as saying something to each other.

Jiang Cheng turned to Jin Ling. “Let’s go,” he said in a low voice.

“Bye, Wei-shishu. Wen-qianbei,” Jin Ling said with a shy wave before following his uncle.

Wei Wuxian smiled, patted Wen Ning on the shoulder, and headed up the stone path back to the Cloud Recesses.

Wen Ning stood motionless, watching Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling walk away.

After a while, his mind wandered. He wasn’t sure what he had been thinking about, but when he came back to the present, Jiang Cheng was standing in front of him.

“J-Jiang Wanyin—”

He scowled. “I hope I don’t see you again.” Then the lines in his face softened, and he looked down. A tint of redness colored his cheeks. “But next time I do…call me Jiang Cheng.”

He turned around abruptly and marched away, his figure all flowing violet robes and angry movements. He pointed down the path and barked something at Jin Ling, then walked even faster.

Wen Ning laughed quietly to himself. “See you next time, Jiang Cheng.”

* * *

Two weeks later, Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji, and A-Yuan received invitations for a visit to Lotus Pier.

And so did Wen Ning.

That was a surprise.

“The mighty Sandu Shengshou must be feeling especially generous,” Wei Wuxian said with a chuckle as he examined Wen Ning’s invitation.

“I guess so,” Wen Ning said.

Wei Wuxian’s expression turned more serious. “Do you want to go?”

Wen Ning smiled. “I do.”

And so he went to Lotus Pier, by invitation.

The Jiang Clan was holding a martial ceremony and a small festival. It was nothing that outsiders would normally attend, but then again, Wei Wuxian wasn’t exactly an outsider, so maybe the rest of them weren’t either.

After a round of greetings, Wen Ning slinked away for somewhere to be alone.

When he had traveled with A-Yuan to Dafan Mountain to construct the memorial, they had taken plenty of detours, and stumbled into enough festivals for Wen Ning to learn that it was best to keep his distance from crowds.

He found a small pond with cattails, lotus flowers, and a short bridge passing over it. He stood on the bridge and leaned on the railing, watching the dragonflies flittering over the pond, admiring the bustling activities and vibrant colors of the festival a short distance away, listening to music and joyful voices.

Once in a while, A-Yuan would run over to him and show him something. A drum-rattle with a butterfly painted on its small canvas, a spicy kebab that he described the taste of, a red tassel that looked like the one Granny had made so long ago. Wen Ning let A-Yuan buy the tassel for him.

Dusk fell over Lotus Pier, and soon warm lanterns glowed everywhere.

A set of footsteps beside him. He turned. “Jiang Cheng.”

Jiang Cheng nodded. He stood at the edge of the bridge, studying Wen Ning and then scanning the festival. He seemed to have something to say, but his mouth didn’t open.

“Thank you for the invitation.”

“Don’t think too much of it,” Jiang Cheng said irritably. He turned away. “I…have something to give you.”

Surprised, Wen Ning raised his eyebrows and followed Jiang Cheng through a carved panel door into one of the palaces of Lotus Pier, through winding hallways, around corners, until they arrived at another set of doors.

Jiang Cheng opened them. They stepped into a velvety, dimly lit room. It was Jiang Cheng’s living quarters.

Wen Ning waited in the center of the room, unsure of what to do with himself, while Jiang Cheng stepped over to a shelf and pulled something out.

He lifted Wen Ning’s arm and dropped a small tan pouch into his palm.

It was a spirit-trapping pouch. Wen Ning stared at it for a few moments. “What’s this?”

Jiang Cheng kneaded his lips together and looked away. “From Dafan Mountain.”

“Th-The goddess?” In the cave on Dafan Mountain, Jiang Cheng had ordered Wen Ning to leave after he summoned the goddess, and pulled out this pouch. Had he captured the goddess’s spirit to take back to Lotus Pier? Why would he do something like that?

“No, not her.” Jiang Cheng said slowly. He looked guiltier with each word. “I let her go after she talked to me.”

“Then who is it?”

“…You.”

Wen Ning froze.

He let his mouth fall open.

“Wh-What do you mean, me, how is it—”

“It’s a soul fragment.”

The piece of his soul the Goddess Statue had stolen when he was a child.

How can this be?

Suddenly he wanted to throw the pouch across the room, to get it as far away from it as possible.

“How?”

“I didn’t believe it when it happened,” Jiang Cheng said. “I didn’t want to tell you if it wasn’t true, so I…” His shoulders tightened. “So I took it back to Lotus Pier to confirm, and, well, it’s definitely you.”

Wen Ning didn’t know what to say.

“If you want,” Jiang Cheng paused, clenching and unclenching his fists like he was fighting with himself. “If you want, Wei Wuxian can probably do something with it. Put it back in you or something. Make things feel a little better for you.”

“I don’t want it,” Wen Ning said darkly.

He should’ve felt grateful. He had always wished that his soul was complete, that his cultivation abilities were what they should’ve been. Recovering his missing soul fragment would help his spirit be whole. It would help him fight the resentful energy inside him, grant him peace.

But Wen Ning did not feel grateful.

Does he think I need this? That I need to be fixed?

If he was supposed to put this soul fragment back in himself—to make himself more human, he guessed—then what was he supposed to do about his body? What was the point when there was no fixing the rest of him?

This soul fragment didn’t belong to him anymore, just like his living body didn’t belong to him anymore.

He had hoped that Jiang Cheng meant what he said that night, that he didn’t just think of Wen Ning as the Ghost General, didn’t just think of him as a corpse.

That sometimes he forgot, and then Wen Ning could’ve forgotten too.

He’d been wrong.

He handed the pouch back.

“That’s fine, then,” Jiang Cheng said calmly as he took the pouch. “Didn’t think you’d want it anyway.”

“Huh?”

“You seem fine without it.” He shrugged. “But it would be better to ask.”

Whatever had dragged Wen Ning down before, its pressure lifted, and Wen Ning’s spirits rose.

He doesn’t think I need it.

Their eyes met, and a bridge passed through the space between them.

It made sense that he’d say this. Jiang Cheng had something inside him that no one had asked if he wanted.

That was partly Wen Ning’s fault.

His insides churned with a question. “Jiang Cheng?”

“What?”

“On Dafan Mountain, if you hadn’t been so tired, would we have…” He took a step back. He folded his hands and stared at the floor. “Would we have done more?”

The silence gnawed at Wen Ning’s ears. He felt his heart sink lower and lower as he waited.

“No.”

“…Oh.”

Wen Ning turned for the door. “I’ll take my leave, Jiang-zongzhu.”

“It’s not because of that.”

Wen Ning stood in the doorway, resting a hand on the door frame and gazing down the hall, trying not to let himself quiver.

“It’s not because of you.” He heard Jiang Cheng step closer. “I’m just…I’m…” Anger barbed his voice. “I’m not the right man. Barely even a man. I can’t give you anything.”

“What do you mean?” Wen Ning said quietly.

Jiang Cheng’s voice became even quieter than Wen Ning’s. “Why do you think the Jiang Clan doesn’t have an heir?”

“Because every woman has blacklisted you.”

“You!—” He took a moment to steady his breath and lower his voice. “And what do you think is the reason for that? Bad-tempered, loud, hostile—I know what they all say—and on top of that, I…I don’t…desire. Not like that. Not for everything I should.” He sounded like he wanted to hit himself. “A pathetic husband I’d make.”

Wen Ning finally turned back to the room. Jiang Cheng looked away immediately, his jaw and fists clenched, his face red.

“That’s not pathetic.”

Then Wen Ning’s chest knotted with guilt. He felt like he had dirtied a home that wasn’t his. “Did you…desire any of it? That night?”

Jiang Cheng swallowed. His voice cracked. “I did like some of it.”

Maybe it was different for Wen Ning, banished from human touch for years, but he couldn’t imagine how someone would find this a problem. If that was the farthest Wen Ning went for the rest of eternity, he still would’ve been beyond happy.

“Then only doing those things is enough.”

“Enough for whom?”

Wen Ning stood still for a few moments, feeling like he was balancing on a tightrope.

Enough for me.

Except.

The ghosts of the past had built a wall between them, shattering the bridge to nowhere.

They had spent a long time without acknowledging it, but they still hadn’t fully forgiven each other, and it might've been a while until they did. The existence of the other was as much a source of pain as it had the potential to be a source of joy.

Maybe they could be friends one day. But to become something more, to do that again…

It just wasn’t time.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes darkened, as if he knew it too.

“It’ll be enough for whomever you choose,” Wen Ning said. “Maybe…” He didn’t finish.

He left. Tried not to feel anything, wished that his emotions were as dulled as his sense of taste and touch.

“Wen Ning.” Jiang Cheng had followed him into the hallway.

He stopped and turned halfway around.

“…Thank you.”

Wen Ning gave a half-hearted smile. “Please don’t thank me, and don’t tell me you’re sorry, either.”

Jiang Cheng opened his mouth. Closed it.

He nodded and disappeared back into his room.

* * *

That night, Wen Ning left Lotus Pier by himself. He’d meet the others back at the Cloud Recesses.

Sometime.

For now, he just wanted to wander underneath the moon.

Hours later, he found himself back on Dafan Mountain, in front of his family’s memorial. He bowed, then knelt on the ground, stroking the dirt, wondering if he could write a message in it and have it reach his family.

He thought of how he stood here in the sun with Jiang Cheng, holding his hand.

Squeezing Jiang Cheng’s hand like Wen Qing used to squeeze his.

His throat caught.

Why does it have to be him?

He scraped the ground and let dirt wedge under his fingernails. Then he placed his hands on the memorial stone, pressed his face on it. It still didn’t feel like anything.

He tried humming a song from his childhood, but it didn’t vibrate in his chest like it used to.

A gentle pat on his head.

He put his face in his dirt-stained hands and sobbed waterless tears.

If only one person were alive to forget Wen Ning was dead, he wished it could’ve been his sister instead.

* * *

Two days later, Wen Ning received another letter.

The soul fragment has been put to rest.

You are always welcome in Lotus Pier.

Jiang Cheng.

It made him smile.

He carried the note in his robes from then on. Some days it felt like nothing, some days it felt like a deadweight, and some days it felt like a good luck charm he could use when he was ready.

But it always made him feel a little more alive.

* * *

Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by liking, reblogging, and visiting me on AO3.

Happy ending bonus scene >

#chengning #ningcheng #mdzs fanfiction #the untamed fanfiction #mdzs fanfic #the untamed fanfic #powered by sufjan stevens #mdzs #the untamed #cql #jiang cheng #ifdchallenge2021 #jiang wanyin #wen ning #wen qionglin #emilu fics #emilu creations

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honibee-arts · 4 years

Note

Hello again 😁 Can I have another Zhuiyi getting together please? (The previous one was soo good!!!). They both think that the other has feeling for someone else (jing ling?) and are pretty sad about it until they (finally!) actually talk to one another. I hope you'll be inspired by it!! And thank you!!

"Who made you sad, A-Yuan?" his Ba asked one night over dinner.

"Ba. Silence during mealtimes." he reminded his Ba, earning an approving nod from his A-Die.

"Is a father not allowed to be concerned for his son?"

"Wei Ying. Sizhui is right. We must not speak during meals."

His Ba frowned and poured more chili oil over his noodles, offering the bottle to Sizhui. He took one glance at his father's burning red plate and his eyes watered, remembering the red congee he had helped cook for the poisoned Juniors in Yi City that made them choke from the smell and intense spice. He remembered rubbing Jingyi’s back as he had tried to force it down, gagging and couching as it burned his throat.

Sizhui stared off as a sad sigh escaped him.

Jingyi...

No. He shouldn’t think about that. He should support his friends endeavours toward Jin Ling, his cousin. Was Jin Ling his cousin? Jingyi always liked to say Sizhui and Jin Ling both had a complicated family. Ba was born to Cangse Sanren and Wei Changze, but was adopted into the Jiang family. But he was officially exiled from the family and the sect after he had defected to Yiling, when Ba adopted him. They were only cousins through the technicality that Ba was raised as Sect Leader Jiang’s brother and Ba had adopted him as his own son, but Ba’s and Sect Leader Jiang’s relationship was a mess of things and none of Sizhui’s business and now Sizhui’s head was beginning to hurt.

He blinked, looking up from the sliced radish floating in his bowl of broth and caught his parents sharing a concerned glance. He shook his head and finished his broth at a measured pace, standing and collecting their empty bowls and chopsticks.

“Thank you for the meal, Ba, A-Die. I will take these back to the kitchens and return to the dorms.” He bowed to his parents.

“A-Yuan.” His Ba frowned, unimpressed by his attempt at a quick retreat.

“Ba, I am fine.”

“Lying is forbidden, Sizhui. If something is wrong...” His A-Die trailed off. He was better at quiet expressions of care.

“I...”

“C’mon, A-Yuan, tell us? We won’t be upset. We love you and we’re allowed to worry about you as your parents.”

Sizhui sighed, setting the tray of cutlery down.

“It’s Jingyi...” Sizhui mumbled.

“What did he do? I’ll cut off his hands I swear-”

“Wei Ying.”

“Eh?”

“Do not strain yourself. You are still weakened, Lan Jingyi is a capable young cultivator. If Lan Jingyi must be hunted then I will do it.”

“Don’t hurt him!” Sizhui interjected quickly. “He hasn’t done anything wrong! Why do you guys always jump to maiming and murder?!”

“Okay, okay. Baba’s sorry. What happened?”

“I... I like him.” Sizhui mumbled, feeling his ears burn.

“Oh?”

“I said it, okay. I... I like him. A lot. And I... I’m sad when he isn’t here.”

“Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan! Our baby boy has a crush he’s so grown up! I’m getting so old, you won’t want a haggard old man like me anymore, Hanguang Jun.”

“Love Wei Ying. Will always want Wei Ying.” His A-Die said softly, pressing a kiss to his Ba’s temple as he buried his face in his hands.

“Lan Zhan! You can’t just say things like that to me! Warn me!”

Sizhui groaned, rolling his eyes as he picked up the tray again and making to leave.

“Oh no you don’t, sit back down, A-Yuan. We aren’t done here.”

“Ba, I told you what as wrong.”

“Not all of it.” His A-Die replied.

“Fine. He doesn’t like me back, he likes Jin Ling. And... it hurts but I have to be happy for them, alright.”

“Oh A-Yuan...” His Ba stood up and wrapped him in a hug. “I know how that feels. When I was younger than you, your Ba and I were sent to the indoctrination camp, and in the cave of the Xuanwu of Slaughter, I save Lady Mianmian. Your A-Die got angry at me because he had a crush on her-”

“Never had feelings for Lady Luo. Only Wei Ying.” His A-Die cut in, pouring himself some tea.

“Really?”

“Mn. Always Wei Ying. Only Wei Ying.”

“So your angry look was you thinking I was an idiot?”

“Assumed Wei Ying could read me as well as Xiongzhang by then. I was wrong.”

"I think Sizhui has a crush on you." Jingyi frowned at the soft ripples of the lotus lake surrounding the pier.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Jin Ling replied, looking at Jingyi like he'd grown another head. "He's my fucking cousin he's smarter than that."

"He is and he isn't. Not by blood. Your family is weird, Young Mistress Jin."

"My mother considered Wei Wuxian her brother as much as she considered jiujiu her brother. Whatever stupid shit my jiujiu needs to sort out with him aside doesn't affect how my mother felt. If Wei Wuxian is her brother, he is my da jiujiu. Don't tell him that, he'll get annoying about it."

"I won't. So by your logic, Sizhui is your cousin because he was Wei-Qianbei's adopted son before Hanguang Jun took him in, and because Wei-Qianbei and Hanguang Jun are married either way Sizhui is still your cousin?"

"Huh" Jin Ling snorted, the gold pendants in his hair tinkling as he through it back. "I guess all that precious Lan education hasn't been totally wasted on your dense ass."

"You!" Jingyi shouted pulling his feet out of the water and grabbing his sword. "You! Me! Let's fight right now!"

"You wanna fight? Let's go then. Sizhui is dense as fuck and so are you!"

Jingyi drew his sword. He knew Jin Ling was taunting him but it was too late. He charged at the Jin sect heir, roaring after him. Jin Ling charged at him, yelling all the same, bare feet thundering against the wood of the pier.

He was lucky to have caught himself just as the violet glow of Zidians purple lighting slashed between them, jumping back as Sect Leader Jiang stepped between them.

"What the fuck is all this damn screaming about?!" The sect leader roared. "I already have a fucking migraine as it is! Running two sects after this mess isn't easy you know! I haven't slept in three days so you brats better have a good reason for all this screaming! If you want to duel do it in the forest or some shit not when I'm trying to work!"

"Sorry jiujiu..." Jin Ling mumbled as Sect Leader Jiang recalled his whip, the spiritual tool coiling back around his wrist.

"It's... Its fine." he replied, taking a deep breath. Jingyi felt bad. The man looked exhausted.

"Jiujiu... Has it really been three days since you last slept?" Jin Ling asked worriedly.

"I...its fine, A-Ling..."

"If you need me to take on some of the paperwork it's fi-"

"No! No. You're too young. I had this shit forced upon me when I was too young. I didn't have anyone to help me. I don't want that for you. You'll take on the responsibility when you're ready for it. And right now, starting what seems like to be a meaningless brawl between another cultivator is not the behaviour of a young man ready to take on the burdens of leadership. I will be fine. Leave me be."

Jin Ling was quiet, crossing his arms and hugging Suihua to his chest as conflicting emotions crossed his face.

Guilt.

Concern.

Sadness.

Anger.

Fear.

Jingyi felt bad for him, but swallowed nervously as the sect leaders sparking violet eyes trained on him.

"Now. What the hell is this about?"

"Lan Sizhui is an idiot. Jingyi thinks he likes me because he hasn't noticed any of his advantaces and acts happy to see me but Sizhui is my cousin and he's not weird like that." Jin Ling butted in as he saw Jingyi's lips part in preparation for a response.

"Lan Sizhui? Kid, this is Wei Wuxian's son. He's going to be romantically oblivious. When it comes to love, that asshole was so stupid it hurt to watch." the sect leader sighed. "I've lost people I wanted, Lan Jingyi. My first loves slipped away from me. One sacrificed herself and owned up to the crimes of many when she was one of the few innocent, the other was wrought by grief and vengance into a man I no longer recognise. A stranger wearing his skin.... Perhaps if I hadn't been such a coward, I could have prevented it."

"Jiujiu is right. If you don't tell him soon you will lose him."

Jingyi frowned and nodded. He was afraid of the consequences, but he had no choice now. He had to talk to Sizhui.

"Jingyi." Sizhui greeted with that same warm smile that made his stomach twist in knots and his tongue turn to rubber. "How was Yunmeng?"

"It was alright. I'm glad to be back here, the Young Mistress was getting on my nerves."

"Ah. I see." Sizhui's bright smile faltered for a moment. "If you'll excuse me-"

"Sizhui. We need to talk." Jingyi cut him off.

"Mn?" Sizhui blinked, confused.

So cute.

Jingyi took his hand and dragged him past the Frost Pavilion, past the library, through the forest and past the cold springs.

"Jingyi, where are you taking me?" he asked, trying not to trip over his robes.

"This is the first place we played together, right?" Jingyi asked as they stopped in the rabbit field on the back hill, looking around. "You asked Hanguang Jun if I could come with you two, and you held my hand while he walked us down here. You taught me how to feed the bunnies and told me they were your brothers and sisters."

"I... Yes? Why are you saying... All of this?"

"You were sweet and kind and I didn't know the sunshine had a human form, but you've made me warm since I..."

"Jingyi..." Sizhui gasped as his friend stepped closer.

"Sizhui. I'm in love with you. I always have been."

"Jingyi... I..." can I kiss you?

"You don't feel the same... Its okay..."

"No no no I do I just... I thought you were in love with Jin Ling."

"Me? In love with that idiot? Sizhui, I have better standards than that." he laughed. "I thought you wanted him anyway."

"Jingyi... Jin Ling is my cousin." he cringed.

"I forgot about that. He called me stupid when I brought him up on it."

Sizhui bit his lip, holding back a laugh.

"You are a bit... Sometimes."

"You!" Jingyi gasped, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss.

Sizhui's eyes widened before falling shut, feeling breathless and giddy as his brain registered the feeling of Jingyi's chapped lips on his. His heart sang with joy. His first kiss.

He kissed him back as best he could, embarrassed at his fumbling but he supposed he would get better with time. Jingyi's kisses were gentle, a little awkward and unsure, but sweet as he wrapped his arms around his waist. Sizhui wound his arms around Jingyi's neck and pulled him closer.

They started to fall into a rhythm, getting less shy and awkward as they figured it out. Their kisses became bolder, and with a gasp Sizhui parted his lips-

"Sizhui."

Jingyi leaped back, bright red.

"H-Hanguang Jun!" he snapped into a bow. "We were just talking."

"Lying is forbidden in Cloud Recesses, Lan Jingyi. As are shameless public displays, particularly prior to marriage or courtship."

"Forgive me, Hanguang Jun..."

"Go to the library pavilion and copy our disciplines three times."

"Yes Hanguang Jun."

"You are fortunate it was not Wei Ying who caught you. He would have had less mercy."

Jingyi shot a worried glance at Sizhui. Sizhui looked back apologetically.

"Go."

"Yes Hanguang Jun."

Sizhui felt his cheeks and ears burn as he watched Jingyi's retreating figure briskly walk back up the hill toward the library pavilion.

"Sizhui."

"Yes, A-Die?" Sizhui swallowed thickly, dreading his punishment but squaring his shoulders in acceptance.

"You are aware of Wei Ying's rules about this."

"Yes, A-Die."

He would never forget that conversation at a rare full family dinner.

"A-Yuan, I forbid you from thinking about it until you're 30. You're 17, that's too young."

"Mn. Wei Ying is right."

"If you're going to be courted, it's by the rules of the sect." his Ba warned. "If he so much as thinks of touching your ribbon I will cut his hands of myself."

"And since when did you become so concerned about following the Gusu Lan doctrines, Wei Wuxian?" his grand uncle said sharply.

"Is everyone forgetting we should not be speaking during meals or has that rule been removed since I was last in seclusion?" his uncle sighed, looking between his brother in law and the grandmaster.

"Since I want the best for my son." His Ba snapped back, earning a tired sigh from beside Sizhui. "I made mistakes in my past when I was too young to understand what I was doing. I had no true parental figure to guide me or offer counsel and look where that got me. Forgive me if I want to protect my son from running into something he's too young and inexperienced to understand. "

His grand uncle stroked his beard thoughtfully then fell silent. Sizhui knew he would never admit he agreed with Ba.

"Forgive me, but Wei Ying, you and Wangji began your three bows when you were 15. Why must your son wait until he is as old as 30 to even consider what he wants? You do not know what will happen in the next 13 years. Someone he chooses to love may be gone forever if he is forced to wait so long."

"YOU DID WHAT?!" Lan Qiren roared, glaring at his Ba.

Sizhui sighed and collected everyone's bowls, bowing and making a quick exit before the fighting truly came to a head.

"Wei Ying means well, Sizhui."

"I know..."

"It would be unfair for Lan Jingyi to be punished for his behaviour and not you, Sizhui. Cannot be biased in this."

"I know."

"Copy the disciplines twice in the library, and ensure Lan Jingyi does his work. I trust the two of you will not need supervision."

Sizhui blinked in confusion, feeling his cheeks burn once more.

"Thank you."

#zhuiyi #wangxian #lan jingyi #lan yuan #lan sizhui #wen yuan #mo dai zu shi #Cql #cheng qing ling #mdzs #the untamed #ship prompts #my shitty writing

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aquadrazi · 3 years

Text

Find Someone to Carry You

Chapter 36

………Qinghe………

The second Lan Zhan landed Wen Qing pulled her brother away from him and into an embrace, tears streaming down her face. The second Sizhui landed Wei Ying was blind-sided by Jin Zixuan pulling HIM into an embrace.

“What the-“ Wei Ying said in shock.

“You saved my son.” Jin Zixuan said with heavy emotion. “You saved him and you sent him to us. Thank you.”

Over Jin Zixuan’s shoulder Wei Ying saw a puffy-faced Jin Ling being squeezed possibly to death by Yanli, equally puffy-faced.

The only thing missing is Jiang Cheng

“I had help.” Wei Ying protested.

“It was YOUR talisman that saved his life.” Jin Zixuan insisted. “Stop trying to give away the credit you deserve.”

Huh

Maybe the peacock isn’t so bad

Jin Zixuan release him from the hug and attempted to drag him over to where Yanli and Jin Ling were sitting.

“Oh no, this is a family thing.” Wei Ying protested.

“And you are family.” Jin Zixuan firmly replied, tightening his grip and marching them over.

“A-Xian!” Yanli practically wailed.

Jin Ling looked up in confusion. “Senior Fu?”

“Jin Ling, this is your uncle, Wei Ying, he’s my brother.” Yanli explained.

“The Yiling Patriarch?!” Jin Ling’s eyes grew wide. “We’ve been going on night hunts with the Yiling Patriarch?! But he kill-“ Jin Ling cut himself off when he realized that it was not longer true, what he was about to say.

“Wei Wuxian was set up. Someone else wanted everyone to believe that he had turned evil, to cover up what they were doing.” Jin Zixuan gently explained.

“I apologize for lying to you Jin Ling. It was never my intention to hurt you.” Wei Ying shifted uncomfortably, looking at the floor.

“Wei Ying has also had a rough time. We should go rest.” Lan Zhan slid in next to Wei Ying, wrapping an arm around his waist. Wei Ying took a deep breath in, allowing the smell of sandalwood to calm him.

“Good night Yanli, Jin Ling, peacock.” Wei Ying gave Jin Zixuan a smirk. Jin Zixuan returned a soft, knowing smile and shook his head.

“Lan Zhan, where are we going? Nie Mingjue is in my room.” Wei Ying whined.

“Obviously there is only ONE room, so we will have to sleep in the kitchen.” Lan Zhan teased.

“If you wanted to spank me with a wooden spoon, you could have just ASKED.” Wei Ying teased back, causing Lan Zhan’s ears to go bright red.

“Mn”

“Lan Wangji, Wei Ying!” Nie Huaisang greeted them. “Follow me, your rooms have been prepared.” He winked and turned, his robes fluttering behind him.

“Our rooms?” Wei Ying asked, sounding shocked.

Lan Zhan pressed a kiss into the back of his head as he gently led him, following the Nie Sect Leader. “It seems that Nie Huaisang has given us an…upgrade…as he put it.”

Nie Huaisang stopped at a door and smiled at them. “Here we are.” He said as he slid the door open and gestured from them to enter.

Off to the right was a area set up for tea, just to the left of the door was a low table that a tray had been dropped off with food and drinks for them. Just ahead, blocking off the reset of the room from view, were three large privacy screens. The one in the center was forward of the other two, so you could pass between them to get to the other part of the room.

“I’ve taken my inspiration from the lists BOTH of you slipped me, privately.” Nie Huaisang smiled at them knowingly as he entered behind them. Lan Zhan’s ears were bright red and Wei Ying felt his face flush.

“If there is anything else that you require, please let me know. I’ve also set up two teleport talismans between here and my brother’s room, so Wei Ying will have quick access between the two, if he so wishes.” Nie Huaisang pointed to the left corner of the entrance area. “Not that you aren’t welcome anywhere in the compound, you are. It’s just that there are a LOT of people staying here now, and you may feel it necessary to avoid some of the more…prying questions.”

“Lan Wangji, if I could borrow you for some time, there is a…matter…that needs attending to.” Nie Huaisang said in a low voice.

“Mn” Lan Zhan gave Wei Ying a comforting squeeze and bent down to his ear. “Does Wei Ying wish to be present for Xue Yang’s interrogation?” He asked gently.

Wei Ying shook his head quickly. “No…just…I don’t want to know…”

Lan Zhan pressed a gentle kiss to his temple and gave him a final squeeze before letting him go. He followed Nie Huaisang out of the room, leaving Wei Ying to explore on his own.

Wei Ying walked around the middle screen and he felt like he had traveled to a different place. The room looked like it had been built into the side of the mountain. On the right there was a waterfall steadily cascading down the rocks into a pool below, and a stream that exited under the rocks that made up the side wall. The pool stretched across the room, and there was a bridge over the center. In the pool there were a few lotuses floating, and the whole feature was lit up with the orange flicker of lanterns, like the ones that had decorated Lotus Pier.

Next to the waterfall there was a low table set up for Lan Zhan’s guqin, and he also noticed that Chenqing had been placed there. Wei Ying was shocked, he thought that Chenqing had been lost, but here it was.

Wei Ying crossed the bridge to the other side of the room. Long, sheer curtains were draped across the room, dividing the lotus pond from the rest of the room. As he passed through the curtains, he was hit with the comforting smell of sandalwood.

Much like the room in Koi Tower, there were long, silk bolts of fabric hanging down from the ceiling in various places, and pooling on the floor. Wei Ying weaved his way through them, in one spot he found a high and long table. On the floor around it there were pillows of various shapes and sizes such as long circular tube shapes and wedges. There were long silk ties attached to the legs of the table, pooling onto the floor.

In another spot he found that the silk fabric had been tied already to look like a swing. He finally found the bed. It was tucked away in a corner, not far from the large soaking pool sunk into the floor. The bed had four high posts, located in each corner, and ornate wood carvings branching out from them at the top. All along the posts and carvings long silk fabric was tied and draped. As he got closer he noticed fine silk rope was wrapped around the posts as well.

A-Sang, you’re the best.

Wei Ying went back to the large chest that was in the center of the back part of the room. He opened it up and trays slid up and to the sides automatically. His eyes almost jumped out of his head and he felt his face flush. It was filled with jars of oil, jars of lotion, jars of medicine, paddles, canes, clamps, chains, rope, jade pins, plugs, and many other things that he didn’t know what they were, all neatly arranged inside the chest.

“A-Sang!” Wei Ying screeched and slammed the lid back down on the chest. He launched himself onto a pile of pillows he had found and buried his head in embarrassment.

#mdzs fic #the untamed #family feels #wangxian

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alitotechelamine · 4 years

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Hen Bie

Archive of Our Own

Jin Ling was pissed.

And he had every right to be pissed, who cares what Jingyi said. He certainly never asked for the moron’s opinion or for him to get in everyone’s way trying to play the hero. Jin Ling had had things handled with his own pack of fierce corpses, thank you very much, and Jingyi rushing in and getting in the way only made things worse.

As it stood now, no one was dead but several disciples from various sects big and small were hurt; Sizhui among them. Jin Ling finished wrapping the wound on his friend’s arm, pulling it a tad tighter than he meant to, going by how Sizhui winced.

“Sorry.” Jin Ling grumbled, tying the bandage off and standing up.

“Thank you.” Sizhui smiled, because Sizhui was nice and not stupid unlike other people. He stood up beside Jin Ling, glancing at the night sky. Fairy shuffled around their feet, sniffing at the ground.

“We should probably start heading back towards that town we saw yesterday.” Sizhui sighed.

“And do what? Sleep in the gutter?” Jin Ling kept his eyes firmly on the sky. He had a very good idea of where they were now, but he didn’t want to look at anybody, “It’s so late it’s early, the inns would have reached capacity hours ago.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to make camp.”

“With all these injuries?” Jin Ling snapped, “They’re minor now, but a few hours covered in dirt and grime will guarantee they get worse.”

“Well, then what do you suggest we do?” Sizhui asked, and though his tone was good natured, Jin Ling was sure his patience was running thin. Jin Ling didn’t blame him, he’d had to jump in to rescue Jingyi when the idiot’s own “save” had gone south. Now they were both scratched up and much worse off than they’d have been if that idiot had just kept to himself.

Jin Ling cast another glance to the sky, deciding a little yelling in the early morning was better than sleeping on cold and rocky ground.

“We’re not far from Lotus Pier, a few hours by sword maybe.” He said, “If we take it slow then everyone should get there just fine.”

“But wouldn't it be easier to just go find your Uncle then? He’s always around whenever there’s a night hunt.”

“No,” Jin Ling shook his head, “There was some emergency meeting between him and a few of the smaller sects he presides over, only a few Jiang disciples are even here.”

Sizhui raised an eyebrow in surprise. It had been a long-standing complaint of Jin Ling’s that his Uncle was always around.

Always.

Even when he tried to be discrete about it, he couldn’t easily hide from Fairy’s nose, and his beautiful spiritual dog always managed to pick up on his scent before long. She may have seen his Uncle as an ally, but she was loyal to Jin Ling above all else.

To Jin Ling, his Uncle’s constant presence was annoying, to friends it was awkward and sometimes a little scary. The Yunmeng Jiang Sect Leader was an intimidating man afterall, and even if Senior Wei liked to share funny and stupid stories from their shared childhood there was no changing everyone’s slight fear of him.

“He told me he knew I’d be fine because Hanguang-jun and Senior Wei would be here too.” Jin Ling sighed.

“But… they’re not… here.” Sizhui said slowly.

“I forgot to tell him that.”

“Jin Ling!” Sizhui admonished.

“We were fine!” Jin Ling cried, “At least we were up until the end! Then Jingyi had to go and get in the way!”

“You needed help.” Sizhui said, frowning.

“I was fine, he was just showing off!” Jin Ling sneered. Fairy yipped at his feet, and he decided to take it as she agreed.

Sizhui opened his mouth to argue, when instead his eyes went wide looking at something over Jin Ling’s shoulder. Turning revealed it to be a furious Lan Jingyi, an apprehensive Ouyang Zizhen beside him.

“I was covering your back!” Jingyi cried, incensed, “You left it wide open for anything to just claw at!”

“Not true! I was perfectly fine! If you’d just kept to yourself instead of trying to be a show off then Sizhui wouldn’t have had to get involved!”

“Because the nasty f-”

“Jingyi!” Sizhui snapped.

“- just kept coming, you absolute princess!” Jingyi continued, unbothered by Sizhui trying to censor his language, “It’s just how it worked out! The only one showing off was you when you decided to jump in head first! Your Uncle won’t always be around to bail you out and neither will we!”

With that, Jingyi turned and stormed off, Zizhen looking between the two of them nervously before taking off after him.

Jin Ling sniffed, rolling his eyes. He didn’t care. Jingyi was wrong but so what? It wasn’t his job to tell the idiot how to be a competent cultivator.

He turned back to see Sizhui looking very unimpressed.

“What?” Jin Ling snapped.

“I’m going to go find Uncle Ning, and then we can start heading for Lotus Pier. You go tell whoever you need to that’s where we’re going, and maybe try to smooth things over with Jingyi for the rest of our sakes?”

“Only if he admits he was wrong.” Jin Ling sneered.

“Then just go tell whoever you need to that we’re heading for Lotus Pier.” Sizhui snapped, walking away. Jin Ling huffed, going to inform his subordinates because that was the responsible thing to do, not because Sizhui had told him to.

There was always an open invitation for Jin Ling to visit his Uncle’s home. Jin Ling often took advantage of it whenever he was traveling in the area, much like now. He figured his Uncle wouldn’t be too annoyed that he and his entourage were arriving with… maybe fifteen extra people? Most were just Lan disciples, and Zizhen and his two or three Ouyang disciples. It used to be worse when he was little, first his grandfather and then Uncle Yao sending nearly a small battalion of attendants with him when he stayed at Lotus Pier the first few times. Jin Ling didn’t remember that, of course, but his Uncle certainly liked to remind him it happened.

“I was in the middle of trying to run my own sect, and your damn Uncle thinks he should send fifty people? I never had the time to play host to that many, but did he care? No!”

It was mid morning by the time Jin Ling’s sword touched down just outside of Lotus Pier, his footsteps thudding gently on the wood, and he let Fairy down from his arms. Already, a Jiang disciple was running up to meet him. Jin Ling recognized him as Lei Xiaosi, his Uncle’s current head disciple.

“Jin-Zongzhu,” Lei Xiaosi said, bowing deeply, “The Yungmeng Jiang Sect is honored by your presence today.”

Jin Ling swallowed as he folded his hands and bowed back.

“Is my Uncle here?” He asked, figuring he was but feeling the need to make sure. If he wasn’t shadowing Jin Ling, he was always here.

Something passed over Lei Xiaosi’s face but he simply kept his head bowed as he said, “Yes Sect Leader, however he’s preoccupied so I’ve been tasked with the daily responsibilities.”

Jin Ling blinked, “Oh, I see.”

Was his Uncle really that busy?

“Not to worry however, I can see to the guest quarters being prepared for you and yours, the Lan and Ouyang disciples are welcome as well of course.”

Behind him, Sizhui and Zizhen stepped forward, bowing their thanks.

“Would it be too much trouble to ask the Jiang healers to look everyone over as well?” Jin Ling asked, “We’ve just come from a night hunt that went rather poorly.”

Behind him, he hears an indignant splutter. But because he’s a competent Sect Leader, he elects to ignore it.

“Oh dear,” Lei Xiaosi says, “Of course, Jin-Zongzhu. If you’ll just follow me?”

His entourage is shown to where his Uncle usually keeps them whenever Jin Ling visits, close enough to be near their Sect Leader but “far enough to be out of the way”. Jin Ling was pretty sure that if he could keep them all in the inns in town he would.

His friends are shown to the infirmary, Jingyi blowing him a parting raspberry before following after an exasperated Sizhui. Zizhen snickers at the exchange, waving goodbye and laughing.

Jin Ling ends up in his usual rooms, where he bathes and changes into clean robes before venturing out to get an idea of how busy his Uncle really is. He doesn’t see any outsiders besides the people he brought with him hanging around. If it were another Sect come to visit (or complain), he was sure he’d see someone hanging around. All he sees are Jiang Sect disciples though, all of whom are treading rather carefully as if they expect to be yelled at any second now.

Jin Ling feels a small pit beginning to open up in his gut.

He finds his friends mingling in the courtyard, Senior Wen standing just off to the side. They’re wearing fresh bandages, and he’s fairly certain the patches of shine on their skin are from the healing salves. Fairy immediately made her way closer, sniffing at his friends and pawing at their legs, hoping that if they bent down she could lick at the goo on their skin.

“Well if it isn’t the Young Mistress.” Jingyi grumbles, turning away.

“Jingyi, don’t start,” Sizhui sighs, turning to Jin Ling, “Did you get looked at?”

“Not yet.” Jin Ling admits.

“Because he doesn’t have to!” Jingyi snaps, gently batting Fairy away, “I took most of the hits for him!”

“You took those hits for yourself, I don’t owe you anything!” Jin Ling snaps, voice rising.

“Jin Ling, please.” Sizhui says, trying to mediate.

“It’s alright Sizhui, he can’t afford to lose face and admit it,” Jingyi sneers, “That’s his problem, not yours.”

“Guys…” Zizhen swallows, “Can we not fight?”

“Can her Highness admit she’s wrong?” Jingyi asked angrily, “Can he go five minutes without trying to blame me for everything? I’m sorry I even bothered!”

“I’m not wrong! You were treating it like a game and playing around! You drew those extra corpses right towards me!”

Fairy began to bark, adding her two cents to the matter.

“I did not! Maybe I should have let them eat you, then you would realize that you needed help!”

“Guys!” Sizhui hissed, looking around as Fairy continued to paw and yip, “This isn’t the time or place to be doing this!”

“Remember for next time then!” Jin Ling continued on savagely, not caring for anything other than his anger in that moment, “I don’t need your help and I never will need your help, you’re too stupidly incompetent to be of any use to anyone anyway!”

The four of them stood there, letting Jin Ling’s words sink in. They often called each other names or simple, light-hearted insults. It was how they, mainly Jingyi and Jin Ling, communicated. But this time there had been enough heat and anger behind the words that it left no room to wonder if Jin Ling didn’t mean them to be anything other than a cutting insult. The tension had been snapped like a thread, a line crossed, and now the four were stuck looking at one another in its aftermath.

Jingyi at first looked as if someone had punched him in the gut and his eyes grew misty, but then his face schooled itself into something akin to Hanguang-jun’s natural expression and he took a step back to properly bring his hands up and together. He bowed slightly, eyes trained hard on the ground.

“This one apologises for his stupidity and uselessness, Sect Leader Jin, he will do better to remember his place on the battlefield next time.”

And then he turned and walked away, his pace picking up the farther he got.

“Jingyi!” Sizhui called as he chased after, turning to shoot Jin Ling the darkest glare he’d ever seen from him.

Zizhen stood, frozen in place for a moment before he adopted a rather mournful expression and began to walk in the direction of his friends. He only paused to look at Jin Ling rather pitifully, clearly wanting to say something but unsure as to whether he should.

“Spit it out.” Jin Ling snapped, not looking at him, “Don’t just look at me like that.”

“Jingyi is a good friend, whether or not he was showing off, he did want to protect you. Just remember that.” And then Zizhen left him too, followed by the traitor Fairy who continued to yip after them.

Jin Ling was left utterly alone.

Jin Ling swallowed, feeling his hands shake as he turned and stormed back in the direction of his rooms. He didn’t know when Senior Wen had disappeared but he was glad not to receive another sad, maybe reproachful stare as he went. A few of the Jiang disciples who’d had the misfortune to be nearby were already moving out of the way, the tension they’d been carrying with them keeping them on their toes.

Why were they so tense? They didn’t usually act like this.

Angry and not sure what else to do, searching for any distraction he could think of, Jin Ling pivoted his steps and instead went in search of his Uncle. Either he was the cause for the initial unease around here, or he would know what was.

And then afterwards, Jin Ling could tell him about the night hunt. His Uncle would tell him he was right and that Jingyi was being stupid.

Sword’s Hall was empty, as was the ancestral hall, and the training grounds were filled with only drilling disciples. He checked the infirmary and only found injured cultivators, the ones wearing Lan robes in particular making something ugly twist in Jin Ling’s chest.

Finally he ran across Lei Xiaosi, the man bowing as he approached.

“Where is my Uncle?” Jin Ling demanded, and then forced himself to breathe when he realized the demand came out a little too forceful.

“Apologies Young Master Jin,” The Lei Xiaosi said, and it was only now Jin Ling realized he looked rather harried, “But in actuality, Sect Leader Jiang is feeling rather unwell today. He’s currently resting in his rooms.”

“Is he contagious?” Jin Ling asked.

“Well, no,” Lei Xiaosi said slowly, “But he is very tired. I would advise Young Master Jin to let him rest today.”

“I need to see him.” Jin Ling snapped, turning to go.

“Young Master Jin!” Lei Xiaosi called, and when Jin Ling turned to snap something else at him, he flinched and simply said, “Please be gentle when you see him.”

Gentle? Since when would Jin Ling need to be gentle?

Then that pit in his gut widens as he remembers various days in his childhood when he’d been told his Uncle was unwell for the day. They would have been preceded by a day or two of dark shadows under his Uncle’s eyes and half-hearted snaps and shouts during training. Once, Jin Ling had ventured a little too close to his Uncle’s rooms and sworn he heard sniffling. When he’d asked one of the nursemaids about it later she’d just told him his Uncle was worn out and not to worry about it. Everyone had always told him not to worry about it, and so he never had… but that didn’t mean he never noticed.

Jin Ling, feeling like cold water had been dumped on him, folded his hands together to bow respectfully to Lei Xiaosi.

This time he was worried about it.

“I promise I will be as gentle as possible.” He said, his anger temporarily extinguished by trepidation.

Lei Xiaosi actually smiled at that, waving him on.

Jin Ling’s steps were less rushed as he made his way towards his Uncle’s quarters. He still tried to move quickly, just not in a way that would mean he was thundering around Lotus Pier.

Which turned out to be a good thing, because entering his Uncle’s bedroom was like entering a tomb. It was dark, the heavy curtains drawn, and quiet. He could make out his Uncle laying on the bed, covers pulled up high and his hair splayed out behind him. Jin Ling couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not, his back to him.

Jin Ling made himself comfortable on the floor by the bed, choosing to wait until his Uncle realized he was there.

Sitting there relatively alone and in the dark, he couldn’t help but play the argument over in his mind.

Shame washed over him, ugly and black and cloying. It sat uncomfortably in his chest and his throat, choking him with the guilt of what he’d said. He could still see the looks on everyone’s faces afterwards, full of pity or reproach. Pity for him and his anger, how it pushed everyone away because he was just a child throwing a tantrum. Just like when he was little in Koi Tower, unable to get his way and not willing to live with that. Jin Ling had often lashed out at his teachers or Uncle Yao when they told him no. His teachers would just report his behavior to Uncle Yao, who would always smile but in a disappointed, pitiful way. That would just make Jin Ling lash out even harder, angry to be made to feel so foolish and small. He’d lashed out like that today, seeking to cut Jingyi to the core, and he’d succeeded.

Jingyi’s expression especially was what bothered him. The guilt stabbed at him in the stomach, clawing out his chest and seizing up his heart. He’d seen Jingyi cry before, but he’d never been the reason for him to do so. He’d never seen his friend (could he even call him a friend now?) look so hurt. It looked so wrong, and Jin Ling had been the cause.

What kind of a Sect Leader was he, that he could do that to someone so close to him?

A terrible Sect Leader, no better than Sect Leader Yao probably. Sect Leader Yao at least never made people cry as far as Jin Ling knew, not right there seconds after he opened his stupid mouth.

Jin Ling was worse than Sect Leader Yao, and wasn’t that just lovely?

“A-Ling?”

Jin Ling looked up from his lap to see his Uncle had turned over and was now squinting at him in the darkness.

Jin Ling ducked his head, swallowing at the lump in his throat, “J-Jiujiu…”

“What are you doing here?” His Uncle asked, sounding absolutely exhausted. Jin Ling was struck with the realization that he shouldn’t be here. His Uncle really wasn’t well, and Jin Ling, like a child, was still asking to be taken care of.

At Jin Ling’s hesitance, his Uncle simply sighed instead of snapping at him like he was supposed to. He sat up, waving Jin Ling closer so he could lean down and take the boy’s head into his hands.

His Uncle smoothed his hair back, reaching up to remove his hairpiece and undo the topknot. He massaged at Jin Ling’s scalp, watching him struggle not to cry.

“What’s wrong?” He asked tiredly, turning Jin Ling’s head up so their gazes would meet. Jin Ling observed his Uncle’s eyes looked rather dull.

They looked dead.

Jin Ling swallowed a final time, still struggling to breathe past the anger and the guilt, and he found his vision going watery.

“I… I wasn’t a very good person.” He finally said, and felt the proverbial damn inside him burst. He sniffled, reaching up to wipe furiously at the fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

“A-Ling…” His Uncle sighed, reaching down to pull at Jin Ling’s arms until the boy joined him in the bed. He lay the both of them down, tucking Jin Ling’s head under his chin and simply holding him. Jin Ling cried, loudly and unrestrained because that was all he could do. It was all he could do as the child he was, the stupid and useless child that drove everyone away with his temper!

His Uncle was muttering into his hair, running his hands up and down his back.

“Shh, there there…”

“J-Jiujiu… Jiujiu what do I do? Why do I always hurt people?” Jin Ling heard himself hysterically crying, “What’s wr-wrong with m-me? How c-can I f-face Jing-Jingyi or… or anyone a-after this?”

“Calm down A-Ling, you’ll make yourself sick.” There was no bite in his Uncle’s words, everything sounded like a suggestion not an order. His Uncle was too tired for orders, and it was wrong! It was all wrong!

“And… and they told m-me you weren’t feeling well,” Jin Ling continued, “They told me, and I knew… I knew you didn’t want to b-be disturbed but I didn’t… I didn’t know where else t-to go! They all h-hate me now! I hate me n-now!”

His Uncle’s grip tightened around him. Jin Ling’s face ended up in his Uncle’s chest, silencing him.

“I would want to be disturbed for my nephew,” His Uncle whispered, reaching up to grip the back of Jin Ling’s neck, “I will never not want to be there for you, A-Ling.”

Jin Ling did his best to swallow down the remainder of his tears, the grip around him lessening so he could pull back enough to gulp air. His Uncle rubbed at his face, drying his cheeks with his sleeves. He smiled brokenly, pressing a kiss to Jin Ling’s forehead.

“Now, tell me what happened.” His Uncle instructed.

“It was at the night hunt,” Jin Ling muttered, voice hoarse from crying, “There were more than we anticipated. I was fending off a group of them and suddenly Jingyi came out of nowhere. But then there were even more and Sizhui got pulled into it with us, and… and I was angry and I blamed it all on Jingyi. I told him it was his fault people got as injured as they did… I called him stupid and useless! Jiujiu the look on his face… I really hurt him! I was just so angry I forgot myself…”

“Oh, A-Ling,” His Uncle sighed and that seemed to be the trigger to spur fresh tears from Jin Ling’s eyes.

“They all walked away from me! Even Fairy left me! And I don’t blame them!” Jin Ling fought to draw a ragged breath, “I don’t know how I can face them after that.”

“By telling them you’re sorry.”

“But how?”

“By saying ‘sorry’.” His Uncle wiped at the fresh tears, “By telling Jingyi you were wrong to lash out at him. Let him see how sorry you are, like you’re letting me see. Is your pride and your anger worth more than your friendship?”

“No…” Jin Ling hadn’t ever gotten friends with his pride. He’d gotten followers, and they were quick to disappear when he needed them.

“Then you will make reparations for what you did.” His Uncle said, tucking Jin Ling as close as possible to himself again, resting his chin in his nephew’s hair “You don’t want to get to my age and realize you’re alone in the world because you couldn’t control your emotions.”

Jin Ling swallowed, the anger and shame towards himself lessened by his Uncle. The quiet around them made it hard to hold onto the hectic, frenzied panic of his wrongdoings. He felt like the world had slowed while he was in his Uncle’s arms, that he had time to find Jingyi and properly apologize. He had enough time for anything, and it would all be waiting for him.

They lay there in the semi-darkness, the barest scraps of light filtering through the thick curtains. Jin Ling had no clue what time it could be right now, and at the moment he figured it didn’t really matter. His Uncle would protect him, even from time. Jin Ling burrowed closer, trying to hide from his lingering worries. His Uncle simply continued to hold him, occasionally running a hand through his hair and breathing languidly.

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling eventually whispered, wondering if his Uncle had fallen asleep until he received a grunt in reply, “Why did Lei Xiaosi tell me you were unwell? Are you really sick?”

His Uncle didn’t reply right away, instead wrapping a lock of Jin Ling’s hair around his finger a few times. Then he swallowed, his neck muscles pushing at Jin Ling’s forehead.

“No,” His Uncle whispered, “Just very tired.”

“Why?” Jin Ling couldn’t help but ask.

“I don’t know…” His Uncle replied, “I think I simply ran out of energy. I’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Was it from working too hard?” Jin Ling wondered, looking up into his Uncle’s face. It looked more aged than he remembered it being the last time he saw it, more drawn. It didn’t help his hair was down and lying limply around him, like if he were ill and on his sickbed. Or that there was such poor lighting exacerbating the shadows around his face.

His Uncle shrugged, “That might be part of it.”

“What else could it be?” Jin Ling pressed, then blanched because he knew too many questions would just serve to annoy his Uncle. He usually pestered until he got snapped at, but right now didn’t seem like the time to push until he was stopped.

His Uncle sighed, giving Jin Ling another broken smile and turned to lay on his back. Jin Ling moved to rest his head on his Uncle’s chest, listening to his heart beat. It was steady, which helped ease some of the worry.

“I’ve done a lot in my time A-Ling,” His Uncle eventually said, “I’ve lived through a lot, and seen a lot too. After a while you just get tired from it all.”

His Uncle sounded like an old man complaining that he’d lived too long.

“I don’t understand.” Jin Ling muttered.

His Uncle smirked, reaching to tug at Jin Ling’s ear like he was scolding him.

“Then don’t be stupid and apologize to your friends.”

“But what does that have to do with being tired?”

“Ah, you didn’t listen at all, did you?” His Uncle groaned.

“You’re not making sense, Jiujiu!” Jin Ling complained, rubbing at his ear.

“I don’t have to make sense, I’m tired.”

“Jiujiu!”

“Fine, fine,” His Uncle snorted, “Listen closely this time, when you get to where I am in life make sure you have friends to share your burdens. Don’t scare them away with that temper you inherited from me or that mouth you picked up after being spoiled rotten by Jin Guangyao… Ah, but that’s a lot to ask isn’t it?” His Uncle sighed sadly, “You got the worst of both bloodlines and now I’m asking you to make the best of it. How sad…”

“Haven’t I already scared them away?” Jin Ling wondered miserably.

“They came back after you stabbed their precious Wei Wuxian, they’ll come back if you apologise.” His Uncle said, “Most things come back to those who deserve them, nephew, and you deserve your friends. Whether that’s a blessing or a curse though…”

“Jiujiu!”

His Uncle chuckled, the sound small and weak but still much brighter than anything he’d said so far.

“I do mean it though, A-Ling,” His Uncle said softly, “You’ve needed real friends for a long time. Not yes-men and lackeys like you had before, people who only care about your birth status. I hate to admit it but Hanguang-jun managed to raise a decent son, and that Ouyang boy may be a bit too fanciful at times but he has a good heart. Even Lan Jingyi, he reminds me of Wei Wuxian when we were your age. You need them; you deserve them.”

Jin Ling worked past the lump reforming in his throat, “But do they deserve me after what I did? What if I end up just like Jin Chan?”

“No one can end up like Jin Chan, you have to be born like that,” His Uncle said, his lip curling in disgust, “Your friends deserve you too A-Ling. Even if you snap at them. The four of you need each other.”

“How do you know that?” Jin Ling argued, the uncertainty winning out.

“Because look at how much happier the four of you are together.” His Uncle said, tone so matter of fact Jin Ling couldn’t find any reason to question it.

They fell back into silence again, both staring into the darkness as Jin Ling lay there and listened to his Uncle’s heart beat. He was pretty sure his hair was absolutely tangled with how much it had been played with, he’d have to fight to fix it later.

At some point Jin Ling fell asleep.

When he awoke the room was still dark, the light straining to sneak past the curtains. His Uncle breathed heavily beside him, still asleep.

There was a snuffling below them and he realized someone had let Fairy in and she was waiting at the bedside. Jin Ling turned as carefully as he could, trying to not wake his Uncle. He reached down, feeling soft fur brush his fingers.

“So you return after all, huh?” Jin Ling hissed in admonishment, “Did you lick everyone clean or did they finally bat you away enough times? Little traitor…”

Fairy whined quietly.

Jin Ling felt his ire die, the cold and familiar feeling of guilt returning.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered sadly, reaching down to scratch under Fairy’s neck, “Can you at least forgive me?”

Fairy gave Jin Ling’s palm a lick in answer, nuzzling into his arm. Then the dog heaved it’s forepaws up onto the bed, sniffing at the air just above Jin Ling’s hip. Fairy gave a quiet whine as Jin Ling pet his head.

Then the dog jumped the rest of the way up and Jin Ling tried to quell his spluttering as Fairy began to nose at his Uncle.

“Fairy, no!” Jin Ling hissed, “Stop it!”

“Well that’s one way to wake up…” His Uncle muttered, voice thick with sleep. Fairy whined again, leaning her head up to swipe at his Uncle’s face with her tongue. He merely began to fondle the fur on her head and the two shared a yawn.

“If Fairy’s back, that means they probably are too.” Jin Ling muttered.

“Are you ready to face them?” His Uncle asked.

If Jin Ling were being honest with himself, the answer would have to be no. The thought terrified him, having to stare into the faces of friends who were angry with him. Or worse, disappointed in him.

But if he didn’t, what then? Find new friends? Was that even an option for someone like him?

His Uncle tapped at Jin Ling’s forehead, “Stop thinking. The sooner you face them, the sooner you can feel better. Unless you want to live embittered and sad all your life? It’s not fun, I can promise you that.”

Jin Ling frowned, sitting up to look as best he could at his Uncle. The shifted dregs of light allowed him a new glimpse of a very morose expression on a pallid face, eyes dull as they focussed on his dog. Fairy made herself comfortable across his chest, resting her head over his heart and his Uncle tightened his grip.

“Jiujiu… why are you talking like that?”

“Like what?” And there was a snap to his voice now, something so familiar that Jin Ling nearly began to question himself about the rest.

But the heat in his Uncle’s expression flickered out almost immediately and Jin Ling was forced to continue.

“How can you promise what a lifetime of sadness feels like? Why are you so tired? Simply living shouldn’t tire a person out this way.”

“A-Ling, it’s not for you to worry about.” His Uncle said, turning his head away.

“Jiujiu, please…” Jin Ling pleaded, “Why are you sad?”

His Uncle remained quiet, the only sound between them the huffing of Fairy’s breathing. It continued on so long, Jin Ling worried he wouldn’t receive an answer, or worse he might be thrown out. But then his Uncle swallowed and opened his mouth.

“You know my story A-Ling, at least, the parts that matter,” His Uncle said, and his voice was thick with emotion, “You know my temper and my reputation. You know my standing with Wei Wuxian. These things… these things are not easy burdens to carry. The weight of leadership can be difficult, and I wish you’d had more time to adjust to it. I wish you had a mother and a father to teach you better than I ever could. These are also burdens for me. Everything, all of it, it’s a weight around my neck and there are times I have to pause and let that weight rest or else it will overwhelm me. There are so many things I have to worry about, I can’t afford to be distracted by my own pain. At least until it becomes too much.”

“Jiujiu…” Jin Ling whispered, feeling his mouth go dry.

His Uncle finally turned, reaching up to press a palm to Jin Ling’s cheek.

“Make no mistake A-Ling, I will be fine. But for now I just need to rest.” It seemed to take a lot of effort, but his Uncle heaved himself into a sitting position, dislodging Fairy who grunted in discontent, “And you need to apologize to Jingyi.”

Jin Ling bit his lip, unsure.

“But… what about you?” He asked timidly. This sad, morose side to his Uncle was a side he was quickly realizing he didn’t like. And the thought of leaving him here, sitting alone sad and in the dark made Jin Ling’s stomach knot.

If his Uncle really was fine, he’d huff and tell Jin Ling he didn’t need his nephew playing caretaker. He’d tell Jin Ling to get on with what he was supposed to be doing. He was supposed to find a reason to threaten breaking his legs.

Instead, his Uncle merely smiled sadly, pulling Jin Ling in for a hug.

“I’ll be fine,” He insisted again, “I feel much better already. Thank you A-Ling.”

“For what?”

“For staying.”

“Jiujiu…” Jin Ling whispered, and he felt his throat closing and his eyes growing watery again, but for once it wasn’t for himself. He returned his Uncle’s embrace, squeezing as hard as he could.

His Uncle pressed a kiss to Jin Ling’s forehead and took his face between his hands.

“Now,” His Uncle said, smiling though Jin Ling could tell it was forced, “Go apologize already, or I’ll break your legs.”

Taken by complete surprise, Jin Ling barked out a laugh and wiped at his face. His Uncle pushed at him until he stood, watching until Jin Ling neared the door.

“And tomorrow, I want a more official report on how things went.” His Uncle said, the open door bathing him in the light of the afternoon sun.

“Yes, Jiujiu.” Jin Ling said before raising an authoritative hand, “Fairy, stay there.”

The dog hadn’t moved much beyond resettling herself across his Uncle’s lap, but the gesture wasn’t missed as his Uncle smiled a bit more sincerely as he watched him go.

Walking further and further from his Uncle’s rooms, Jin Ling’s anxieties began to return. Slowly seeping in where the comfort and warmth had been. His steps began to falter ever so slightly. At one point near the guest quarters he even stopped, biting at his lip as the thought came to him that this was a bad idea. What was he supposed to say? How was he even going to say it without messing it up?

Stop thinking, his Uncle had said.

Running footsteps thundered from around the corner, and all of a sudden there they were, all three of them. Everyone stood staring at each other, uncertainty trapping them where they stood.

Stop thinking, his Uncle said.

So Jin Ling instead stepped forward and bowed as deeply as he could, opening his mouth to say, “I’m sorry.”

No one moved, seconds passed… then maybe a minute or an hour, Jin Ling couldn’t decide how time worked anymore.

Then Jingyi was crashing into him, crying and hugging him tightly.

“I’m sorry t-too!” He sobbed as Jin Ling squawked, “Let’s not fight anymore, okay?”

He still smelled like the healing salves, which burned Jin Ling’s nose this close. Nevertheless, he returned the embrace as his own tears threatened to resurface.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Jin Ling continued, “I don’t think you’re useless or stupid… most of the time.”

“Don’t ruin the moment.” Jingyi sniffled, releasing Jin Ling and wiping at his face. He was smiling though, so Jin Ling figured he hadn’t quite ruined anything just yet.

From behind them, Zizhen clapped his hands together, “Thank goodness that’s over, I wasn’t sure how we were going to ask you to get dinner with us.”

“It’s dinner time?” Jin Ling frowned, then he felt a rush of warmth in his chest.

They still wanted to get dinner with him. They still wanted him.

“Yeah, where have you been?” Jingyi chuckled, slinging an arm over his shoulder, “Actually, did you just wake up or something? You look like it.”

“I may have fallen asleep…”

“We did too,” Sizhui smiled, “Out near the docks.”

“So we all just needed a nap?” Zizhen laughed.

“After that disaster of a night hunt? Absolutely!” Jingyi cried, turning to Jin Ling to say, “I overheard other disciples complaining, apparently we weren’t the only ones who nearly got our butts handed to us. There was way more evil in that area than originally reported and not nearly enough people showed up to deal with it. They might even have to call for another night hunt.”

Jin Ling nodded quietly, unsure how to broach the topic in a way that wouldn’t reignite their argument.

“And I may have tried to show off a little…” Jingyi muttered, so quickly Jin Ling nearly missed what he said.

“I still should have thanked you for the save.” Jin Ling muttered, contrite, “And I would appreciate one in the future.”

“Let’s just blame it all on a bad night hunt, alright?” Zizhen suggested, “What matters is no one actually hates each other. And also Jin Ling is willing to buy us dinner.”

Jin Ling spluttered, “Why?! There’s food here!”

“Because that’s how you make reparations to Jingyi! Buy us food!” Zizhen insisted, ‘Your Uncle is still busy right? Let’s let him work and go out!”

“You just want to spend my money.” Jin Ling grumbled.

“At the moment, yes.” Sizhui laughed, “We’re too hungry to think about anything else!”

“But first fix your hair!” Jingyi cried, running his own fingers through it to try and tame the mess.

The guilt and pain running through his veins extinguished, Jin Ling promptly threatened to hit him and the four of them laughed.

Chapter 2

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angstymdzsthoughts · 4 years

Note

the real reason jzx opposed his engagement was not bc he dislikes jyl, but bc hes actually fallen for wwx. and in this au wwx returns his feelings, but wont do anything in fear of hurting shijie. he still meets jzx in secret though. after the fall of lotus pier, the marriage couldnt be avoided and wwx had to let jzx marry jyl while he couldnt even attend the wedding. afterwards, jin sect began pushing jzx to have an heir, only to find that jyl would definitely die if she has children. 1/

jyl couldnt bear children without losing her life. jzx wouldnt do that to a friend he has come to hold dear. one time jzx went with jyl since she insisted on visiting wwx. he hasnt met wwx in a while, he missed wwx but couldnt hold wwx the way he wanted to with his wife there. there jyl met a-yuan and liked him so much, she cried to wwx that she couldnt have a little family she had always wanted. to everyone's surprise, wwx offered to carry a jin heir for her. he couldnt look jzx in the eyes. 2/

jzx shouldve been happy, that he would be able to embrace his lover, but neither of them couldnt break through the sheer transactional nature of the affair. in return of a jin heir, the wens are to be left alone. jzx agreed. after wwx confirmed his pregnancy, jzx took him in and closed his quarters off, telling everyone his wife is pregnant and will be in temporary seclusion. the few months wwx lived together with jyl and jzx were utter bliss. 3/

jzx kept wwx posted on the wens condition and no one bothered him. wwx got to spend time with his shijie and got to steal kisses from his lover every once in a while. when the time of birth came, jzx was nervous at best and distraught at most. he couldnt deal with his emotions and left, he wasnt there for the birth, not for the baby and not for wwx. wwx decided a couple days is enough for him to be with jin ling, the precious baby he will now hand over to be raised by his precious sister. 4/

jin ling was only 3 days old when wwx left. to the end, jzx regretted not being there for wwx when he needed the most. wwx bid his farewell to jyl, promising to visit and spoil jin ling as uncles should. after birthing the heir of jin, wwx decided he couldnt trust the jins after all, using his shijie and her husband as mere tools. he turned jzx away everytime the other stole away at night to meet him. it was better if jzx didnt get tainted by him too. 5/

soon, jin ling's first month celebration was fast approaching. wwx was giddy. of course he missed his little baby. he had a gift prepared, both for jin ling and for jyl. if only the ambush didnt happen. wwx was angry and panicked, everyone was enemy. he didnt hear jzx calling out for him to please listen, and suddenly wn had his hand through jzx's chest. wwx heard his name being said before jzx breathed his last. did he just kill his own beloved? 6/

wwx passed out and wn took him back to burial mounds. he spent the next days in his mind. the crashing truth of it all, that he killed jzx, that jin ling will grow up fatherless, that he ultimately had no control over his powers. in the conference in nightless city, wwx didnt expect he would meet his sister again. he wanted to kneel to her, to apologize for killing her husband, but he fled when madam jin noticed him. wwx wouldnt fight unless attacked, but suddenly everyone wanted to kill him. 7/

wwx raised his corpse and cried, he cried for all his regret and his pain. he only wanted to do the right thing, why does everyone want him dead? it isnt fair. all of the sudden someone was calling out for him, it was shijie. he panicked and ran to her, but it was hard, with thousands of cultivators and corpses fighting each other. he didnt even have time to order the corpses to not hurt shijie. as he got near, he saw a corpse with a sword charging from behind jyl. 8/

he threw himself at jyl, taking the sword through his chest. he collapsed in jyl's arms. with the master incapacitated, the corpses stopped fighting. wwx didnt care. his shijie was crying because of him. "its okay shijie, its my fault. im sorry," hes sorry for a lot of things. for bringing lotus pier's downfall, for disappointing jiang cheng, for killing jzx, for not being in control, for making shijie sad. "jin ling is lucky to have you," she heard wwx speak before going limp in her lap. 9/

someone yelled "wei wuxian is dead!" and the thousands of men yelled in triumph. for what, jyl didnt know. she could only care about her brother, who gave everything he has for his family, a cold lifeless body in her arms. he gave her happiness, he gave her a son, and now he gave her his life. she didnt even see jc approach. only when he kneeled in front of her did she saw him. the only emotion she could project was disappointment and regret, why didnt we save him sooner? 10/

jyl allowed for jc to take wwx's corpse with him to lotus pier for him to arrange a funeral. corpse. her brother is now a corpse. but she must fulfil wwx's wish, she will now pretect the wens in his stead. she asked meng yao, now jin guangyao, if he has any news about the wens. nothing, he said. good, that means nobody had touched them. she had a funeral to attend and she brings jin ling with her. in front of his coffin, jyl stopped. she lifted a-ling and put him on wwx's unmoving body. 11/

"say goodbye" she told the baby. wwx didnt even get to see jin ling for the last time. jin ling is the last thing she had of her husband and her brother. jyl vowed to protect him no matter what. she would raise him to be a son wwx could be proud of. jyl couldnt stay in lotus pier for too long. every corner of lotus pier reminds her of the times they spent together, the laughter and hugs they share. jc didnt have the heart to stop her. she went back to lanling the next day. 12/

who knew, when she got back, the only news she heard was that wen ning and wen qing are finally arrested and executed. her heart fell through her stomach. if wn and wq are here, who is protecting the wens? jyl hurried and contacted jc, asking him to meet her at the burial mounds. jc arrived about the same time she did. what they encountered there made her nauseous. the stench of blood permeated the walls as she saw broken bodies upon broken bodies, bloody and strewn across the floor. 13/

jc checked wwx's previous living quarters, it had been ransacked. but nothing prepared her for that. laid across the bed was a tiny body. she recognized it to be the little boy she remembered clinging onto wwx's leg. the little boy she remembered wwx soothe and coo at. the little child wwx called his own. laying in a dried pool of his own blood. his big innocent eyes are open, lifeless but glaring as if asking why. it was a-yuan. she failed. /14

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fortune-maiden · 3 years

Text

3 Sentence Ficathon III

Third Round Up from 3 Sentence Ficathon :D

Here there be 3 MDZS, 1 TGCF, & 1 FEH fills!

(please read the dog & feh one at least. they are funny and i am proud of them)

The Untamed/MDZS, any, a haunted house with a picket fence.

They were calling it the Yiling Patriarch’s house – the hideous fenced abode between the Burial Mounds and the town that reeked of resentful energy and decorated its walls with arrays of blood.

Damned copycats, Jiang Wanyin spat in his mind as he ordered the amateur demonic cultivators taken away and mixed the smell of blood with burned flesh as Zidian tore apart their mindless experiments, cathartic rage dispelling whatever disappointment the sight of the house had brought.

Of course it couldn’t have been Wei Wuxian’s – as if he could ever afford such a pristine picket fence.

Any, any, gates of gold (The untamed, JGY)

In his dreams, he ascends the mountain and enters Carp Tower through gates of gold to an opulent courtyard where servants and disciples bow to welcome him home, a warm bath and a fresh set of clothes prepared.

He leads the disciples in their training, his juniors looking to him adoringly and seniors offering guidance, as his father looks on and rewards his successes with gifts and praises.

When he wakes however, Jin Guangyao finds that Lanling Jin’s gold is the only thing that glitters.

Any, Any, saving the day with a well-timed nose boop (The Untamed, Jin Zixuan)

Jin Zixuan had arrived at the Qiongqi Path to the sight of his cousin leading an alarmingly large number of cultivators in battle against Wei Wuxian, who, even more alarmingly, commanded a single fierce corpse against them, and far more successfully.

Horrified, he had been about to confront Wei Wuxian (he had to save his stupid clanmates dammit!) when a small brown blur ran past him, pressed its nose to Wei Wuxian’s knee, and the battle ended then and there with a blood-curdling scream.

Jin Zixuan hadn’t even realized his dog had tagged along; good thing though – with Wei Wuxian cowering meekly behind the Ghost General, it was much easier to get explanations from everyone and drag them back to Lanling without anyone else getting killed.

Any, any/any, stoic character breaking down and being comforted (TGCF, Three Tumors)

He was running out of time!

Shi Wudu didn’t cry – he didn’t know how – but his eyes stung anyway and his hands trembled as he swept all of the useless parchments off the table, and then swept the table off the floor and across the room, and then swept the room up in a torrential flood, letting it suffer the full unbridled wrath of the Water Tyrant that he couldn’t unleash onto the loathsome creature torturing his only little brother.

He was still shaking when he felt two hands on him; Pei Ming’s on his shoulder, squeezing it firmly, and Ling Wen’s on his back, rubbing it softly as she passed him a brand-new scroll…

Fire Emblem, any, put your feelings into swords (Heroes, The Navarre Types)

They weren’t very good with words – some even accused them of being completely emotionless.

But on the battlefield, their true feelings shone through easily, and upon arriving in Askr, they were ecstatic to discover others like them willing to spar in lieu of small talk.

And thus, the society for Society for Torrid Ardent Bladesmen was born.

#3 sentence ficathon #mo dao zu shi #tgcf #fire emblem heroes #fire emblem #the untamed #tian guan ci fu #three sentence ficathon #fortune's fanfics

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hamliet · 5 years

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Su She and Jin ZiXun: Society vs. Connection

Or, the SuXun meta no one asked for. (I’m kidding about SuXun.)

In all seriousness, though, this meta will focus on Su She and Jin ZiXun, who, while they initially come across as semi-unlikable one-note antagonists necessary for plot connections and not much else, both actually have a ton of depth and thematic relevance. In particular, they are both used to explore the concepts of insecurity and arrogance through the lens of privilege, thereby exemplifying the novel’s central paradox: society is a corrupting disease, but human connection saves.

Jin ZiXun and Su She are extremely similar characters; in fact, I’d say the only difference in their characters is essentially that Jin ZiXun is privileged and Su She is not. The defining trait for both seems to be arrogance. Arrogance and insecurity are very common character traits in Mao Dao Zu Shi (in addition to these two, we also see them to various extents in Jin ZiXuan, Jin GuangYao, Wei WuXian, Wen Chao, Wen Ning, Jiang Cheng, and Jin Ling).

Jin ZiXun is privileged in ways Su She could never be. He looks down on everyone around him except for one notable exception (to be discussed further on). He’s said to consider Jin GuangYao, his cousin, as being of “lowly” background and it’s added that he “was ashamed to be of one clan [with Jin GuangYao].” When he acts arrogant, trying to force Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi to drink with him despite Jin GuangYao’s protests that they do not drink, he appeals to the idea of perceived scorn to manipulate them, thereby revealing what is most likely his true fear of insecurity:

“The Jin Sect and the Lan Sect have always been like one family. We’re all the same. My two Lan brothers, if you don’t drink this, you’d be looking down on me!”

It’s also notable how society responds to his evident insecurity manifesting as narcissistic arrogance:

On the side, a few of his followers all praised, “What a bold move!”“That’s just how an esteemed cultivator should act!”

However, Su She’s position in society is quite different, and therefore so is his manifestation of his insecurity.

The incident with the waterborne abyss is where we first meet him, and it tells us all we need to know about society in the novel and Su She’s position in it:

a disciple on the other side also drew out his sword, thrusting it toward a dark shadow which swiftly swam by in the water.

However, after his sword went underwater, it never came out again. He chanted the sword incantation for a few more times, but nothing was retrieved from the water. It was as if his sword had been devoured by the lake, disappearing without a trace. The disciple looked like he was a youth of similar age as Wei WuXian and the others. Without his sword, his face grew paler and paler. An older disciple beside him spoke, “Su She, right now, we still haven’t determined what the thing inside the water is. Why did you act on your own and make your sword go underwater?”

Su She seemed like he was somewhat flustered, but his expression was relatively calm, “I saw that Second Young Master also…”

He realized, before he even finished speaking, how unsuitable this sentence was. No matter what, the Bichen sword or Lan WangJi were not comparable with others… He glimpsed at Lan WangJi, but Lan WangJi didn’t look at him, and instead attentively observed the water…

This passage emphasizes Lan WangJi’s biggest flaw: his inability to say what he needs to say. It also indicates, again, what society thinks of Su She: they don’t notice him. Everything he does appears to be for naught. He’s just not important. (The comment about Su She being unable to compare to Lan WangJi also draws to mind Wen Ning’s ultimate rebuke of Jiang Cheng.)

The waterborne abyss is itself a symbol of society, as it is sent to the Gusu Lan Sect’s territory from the uppermost sect in society:

Although they knew where the waterborne abyss came from, everyone grew silent.

If it was done by people of the Wen Sect, then there would be no result no matter how hard they accused or criticized. First of all, the sect wouldn’t admit it, and second, there wouldn’t be any compensation either.

The abyss, or society, eats up Su She’s accomplishments (and sword) and tries to swallow Su She in the end. Wei WuXian risks his life to save Su She, and then Jiang Cheng observes them, but cannot help (foreshadowing what will later happen when Wei WuXian dies: Su She will unknowingly lead to Wei WuXian’s destruction, Jiang Cheng will stand by and let it happen, and Lan WangJi will act). Lan WangJi pulls them all from the abyss, symbolizing how human connection is ultimately the answer for society’s poison.

So let’s talk Jin ZiXun and Su She’s connections next. Jin ZiXun has a one-sided personal beef with our protagonist Wei WuXian, while Su She has a one-sided rivalry with our other main character, Lan WangJi. And both Jin ZiXun and Su She have someone they esteem as more important than themselves, someone they cling to and use as a way to feel less insecure themselves. For Jin ZiXun, this person is his cousin Jin ZiXuan, who is repeatedly held up as a societal ideal. In fact, Jin ZiXun is introduced to us challenging Wei WuXian when he is unimpressed by Jin ZiXuan’s accomplishments, proclaiming, “If anyone here remains unconvinced, then feel free to try if you can shoot better than ZiXuan!”

For Su She, this person is Jin GuangYao, Jin ZiXuan’s brother who is on the outskirts of society because of his birth as the illegitimate son of a prostitute and a sect leader. Ironically, it’s Jin GuangYao’s desire for acceptance by anyone and everyone (but especially societally important people, as his father is) that leads to Su She and Jin GuangYao forming a bond--at the same moment Su She forms a rift with his privileged foil Jin ZiXun:

Someone spat, “Is this a road that someone like you can walk on? Who let you roam around!”

A young voice replied, “I’m sorry. I…”

Hearing this, Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi looked up at the same time. Beside the wall reliefs stood two men. The one who had just scolded someone was Jin ZiXun, with a few servants and cultivators following behind him. The one who had been scolded was a white-clothed young man. When the man saw Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi, his face immediately went pale. He couldn’t even continue with the things he wanted to say. As Jin ZiXun kept up his haughty guise, Jin GuangYao came to the rescue just in time.

He went to the white-clothed man, “The paths of Koi Tower are rather intricate. Young Master Su, it’s not your fault that you got lost. You can come with me.”

Seeing that he appeared, Jin ZiXun sneered and walked around them. The white-clothed man, however, hesitated, “You know me?”

Jin GuangYao smiled, “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? Haven’t we met each other once? Young Master Su, Su MinShan, your swordsmanship is quite good. I’ve been thinking ever since the hunt at Phoenix Mountain about what a pity it’d be if such a young talent didn’t come to our sect. In the end, though, he did come to our sect. I was over the moon with joy. This way, please?”

There were countless cultivators who sought assistance by going to the LanlingJin Sect like Su She did. He thought that not many people would recognize him, having never expected Jin GuangYao to be able to remember him so clearly, going as far as to praise him, after just one hasty encounter with him. Instantly, Su She seemed to be more relieved. He ceased to look at the Lan brothers and followed Jin GuangYao away, scared that they’d mock or point at him.

The sad thing is that the Lan brothers likely would not have mocked him. In the end, both Jin ZiXun and Su She die with these respective friends of theirs, as nothing more than mere footnotes to the Jin brothers’ deaths. However, Su She’s death, in particular, shows us another aspect to his relationship with Jin GuangYao: even on the outskirts of society, they had a genuine connection.

After the waterborne abyss, the next time the novel introduces Su She is when he tries to sacrifice MianMian to appease Wen Chao (a symbol of arrogance and societal acceptance if there ever was one):

However, one of the GusuLan Sect’s disciples on the side had been trembling as he listened to Wen Chao’s threatening words. He finally couldn’t hold it any longer as he rushed over, grabbing MianMian, and prepared to tie her up. Lan WangJi’s brows stiffened. He immediately struck the disciple to the side.

Although he didn’t say anything, the way he looked at the disciple was more than imposing. What such a look meant was clear to everyone—it truly is a shame that the GusuLan Sect has taught a disciple like you!

The disciple’s shoulders quivered as he backed off slowly, unable to face the others’ eyes.

It is however an interesting reversal that Su She dies in a manner that redeems both of his earlier shames that drove him out of the Lan Sect. He dies sacrificing himself to save Jin GuangYao, rather than trying to sacrifice someone else, and he dies sacrificing his sword instead of losing it:

Su She dodged to the side with force. With the tip of his foot he picked up the sword that had fallen to the ground and conjured up all of his spiritual energy in one thrust at Nie MingJue’s heart. Perhaps because of the dire situation, the attack was abnormally swift and ruthless. Brimming with spiritual energy, the blade glowed brightly, enveloped by swirling radiance. It was so much better than all of the previous seemingly-elegant attacks that even Wei WuXian wanted to praise its excellence….

However, the sword had been infused with so much spiritual energy, due to Su She’s sudden explosion, that it could no longer withstand it. Halfway through the lunge, it broke into pieces with a crack.

On the other hand, Nie MingJue’s punch landed right in the center of Su She’s chest. Su She’s splendor left as quickly as it came. He couldn’t even spit out a mouthful of blood or say a few last words, no matter with dignity or cruelty, before the life in his eyes went out.

The symbolism of the sword is twofold: firstly, all the powers in the world can’t actually accomplish anything more than having little power can. The curse of insecurity originates with himself, which is why the rebound curse leaves him with holes on his chest.

Jin ZiXun’s death is also symbolic: he is cursed by Insecurity Embodied in Su She, cursed with the Curse of a Hundred Holes, which leaves holes on his body, symbolizing how he feels incomplete, and also marking him as a pariah from society.

Additionally, he allows this curse to separate him from the person he’s closest with, Jin ZiXuan:

“Why didn’t you tell me at all that you were cursed with Hundred Holes and instead came to do this without saying anything?!”

The fact that Jin ZiXun had been cursed with Hundred Holes was indeed an unspeakable matter. First of all, he had both a good appearance and a good physique. He’d always thought of himself as handsome and couldn’t bear for others to know that he was under such an unsightly, repulsive curse. Second of all, to have been cursed meant that his level of cultivation wasn’t high enough, since his spiritual energy was too weak to be able to hold against the curse.

In contrast, Su She’s death involves him becoming closer with someone he has a genuine connection with, because by helping Jin GuangYao, he knows that he’s going against society. As Wei WuXian says, the entire world is coming for Jin GuangYao, yet Su She still helps him.

To return to the sacrificial nature of Su She’s death, it’s also hard not to compare it with a sacrifice that happens earlier the same scene (and kind of the same chapter): Wen Ning’s sacrifice for Jiang Cheng, who is sacrificing himself for Jin Ling.

Jiang Cheng could only stuff Jin Ling behind him and unsheathe Sandu, which at the moment was unable to use spiritual energy, forcing himself to fend off the attack...

Wen Ning blocked himself before the wall, in front of the two of them. With both his hands, he grabbed Nie MingJue’s iron arm and slowly pulled it out of his chest, leaving behind a large, hollow hole. There was no bleeding. Only a couple of black organ crumbs fell out.

Wei WuXian, “Wen Ning!!!”

While Jiang Cheng looked as though he could lose his mind right there. He stammered, “You? You?!”

Wen Ning actually a character who is important to both Jin ZiXun and Su She’s stories throughout the novel.

Like Su She, he is insecure and regarded as weak by others. Like Jin ZiXun, he is, however, a skilled archer. And of course, he is killed in one of Jin ZiXun’s camps, by Jin ZiXun’s guards after Jin ZiXun failed to capture a monster:

Wei WuXian looked at him, “Who are you?”

Jin ZiXun paused in surprise before fuming, “You don’t know who I am?!”

Wei WuXian mused, “Why should I know who you are?”

Jin ZiXun, “I don’t remember, which means I don’t remember. I’m not so idle as to go out of my way to remember a Wen-dog’s name.”

Wei WuXian, “Fine. I don’t mind explaining it in greater detail. You couldn’t catch the bat king and happened to run into a few of the Wen Sect’s disciples who were there to investigate the same thing. And so, you threatened them to carry spirit-attraction flags to be your bait. They didn’t dare do it. One person stepped out and tried to reason with you. That’s the Wen Ning I’m talking about. After some delay, the bat king got away. You beat up the Wen cultivators, took them away by force, and the group disappeared. Do I need to say any more details? They still haven’t returned yet. Apart from you, I don’t know who in the world I could possibly ask.”

Jin ZiXun, “Wei WuXian, what do you mean? You came for him? You aren’t standing up for a Wen-dog, are you?”

And Wen Ning later kills both Jin ZiXuan and Jin ZiXun--however, it was not Wen Ning’s fault, but Wei WuXian’s. By trying to become a part of society, by searching for a place in it, you become a monster and a tool, even if not always as literally as it is with Wen Ning. Jin ZiXun is being manipulated by Jin GuangYao to kill Wei WuXian. In the end, Wen Ning uses his genuine connection with Wei WuXian to sacrifice his body to save Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng--the very same Jiang Cheng he just told this:

Sect Leader Jiang—you, so driven of a person, have been comparing yourself to others your whole life, but you have to know that you never should’ve been able to equal [Wei WuXian]!

Essentially, Wen Ning, having been someone at first looked down on for not being strong enough, and then shamed for being a Wen, and then regarded as a dangerous weapon, is telling Jiang Cheng that despite his not being the best in everything, despite how people might look down on him, you are still worth living.

Wen Ning is able to live, because he’s already dead. But Su She does not, and in true MXTX fashion in which self-sacrifice is often viewed as a form of self-harm, Su She’s sacrifice is ultimately futile. Jin GuangYao is stabbed killed later that very chapter.

However, it is fitting that this theme which has continued throughout the novel reaches its conclusion with Jin GuangYao. If there’s one character who embodies what it’s like to scrabble for society’s approval as a remedy for insecurity and self-loathing, it’s Jin GuangYao. As this incident shows:

On the other hand, Jin GuangShan, standing with a blank face where his seat was, finally lost his temper and kicked over the table in front of him. All of the gold dishes and silver platters rolled down the stairs.

Seeing his discomposure, Jin GuangYao wanted to ease the situation, starting, “Fa-”

Before he could finish, Jin GuangShan had already left. Jin ZiXun also felt that by giving in, he lost face in front of everyone. Out of both anger and hatred, he wanted to leave as well.

Jin GuangYao hurried, “ZiXun!”

Jin ZiXun was at the peak of his anger. Without a second thought, he flung away the cup of liquor that was turned down, directly towards Jin GuangYao’s chest. A splash of liquor immediately sprouted on top of the Sparks Amidst Snow blooming passionately over the white robes. It was more than embarrassing, but because of how chaotic the state of the hall was, nobody really minded the act of great misconduct.

Lan XiChen was the only one who exclaimed, “Brother!”

Jin GuangYao, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Brother, please be seated.”

It was unsuitable for Lan XiChen to comment on Jin ZiXun, so he took out a snow-colored handkerchief and passed it to him, “Go retire and change your clothes.”

Jin GuangYao took the handkerchief, wiping away as he forced a smile, “I can’t leave, can I?”

He was the only one left to clean up the mess. How could he leave the scene? He reassured the crowd as he ranted, completely exhausted, “Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?”

Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?”

Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”

Here he is ignored by his father, insulted and humiliated publicly by his cousin, and left to clean the mess up. He refuses to retire and clean himself up like Lan XiChen asks him to do (a call-back to Lan WangJi asking Wei WuXian to come back to the Cloud Recesses with him). He knows that he’s saying something wrong, he knows that Wei WuXian is morally right, he knows society is a trap that eschews truth, but he cannot bring himself to pull away from it for the sake of seeking acceptance from his father, acceptance which will never come.

And in the end, Jin GuangYao too realizes that his need for societal acceptance led nowhere, that it wasn’t really what he wanted:

“Lan XiChen! In this life, I’ve lied countless times, killed countless times. Like you said, I killed my father, my brother, my wife, my son, my teacher, my friend—of all the evil in the world, what haven’t I done?!”

He took in a breath, rasping, “But I’ve never even thought of harming you!”

Lan XiChen was astonished.

Jin GuangYao panted harder, gripping the word as he spoke through clenched teeth, “… Back then, when the Cloud Recesses was burned down and you fled outside, who was the one that saved you from all the danger? And when the GusuLan Sect was rebuilding the Cloud Recesses, who was the one that helped with everything he had? In all these years, when have I ever cracked down on the GusuLan Sect, when have I responded with anything but support?! Apart from this time, when I’ve only temporarily staunched your spiritual powers, when have I ever wronged you or your sect? Why have I ever demanded gratitude?!”

Hearing these questions, Lan XiChen could no longer persuade himself to silence him again. Jin GuangYao, “Su MinShan could repay me in such a way just because I remembered his name back then. You, on the other hand, ZeWu-Jun, Sect Leader Lan, are as intolerant of me as Nie MingJue—you refuse to spare me even a single breath of life!”

In the end, however, Jin GuangYao uses his last gasp of strength to save Lan XiChen’s life, pushing him away from death. What mattered to Jin GuangYao in the very end was not societal approval (he’d lost that beyond belief), but his own desire to live, and even more than that, even when that was taken from him, his genuine human connection to Lan XiChen. Even if Lan XiChen is just like Nie MingJue in condemning him (he’s not, and Jin GuangYao has to know that), his connection is real. And that connection is valuable enough to him to throw off comfort in his moment of death to save the other.

It’s also fitting that Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian then leave the cultivational world together, pursuing their marriage and connection as cultivation partners away from society. However, they return in the end not because they want to be a part of that world, but because they have connections to people who need them: Lan SiZhui, Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng, and Lan XiChen.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #founder of diabolism #the untamed #cql #chen qing ling #su she #jin zixun #jin zixuan #jin guangyao #lan xichen #wangxian #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #wen ning #lan wangji #xiyao #mxtx meta

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satonthelotuspier · 4 years

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I’ve been a bit MIA this week, but I’ve been struggling in WIP heck to get my Yunmeng Bros reconciliation arc finished, and it took about 500% longer than I expected to write, mostly because having them talk through things and not argue themselves into somewhere I couldn’t recover the conversation from was a nightmare!

You can read part 1 and part 2 of this reconciliation arc at those links, and there’s also a Sangcheng developing relationship duo that run alongside those two which you can find here and here.

Please have 7.5k of Yunmeng Bro feels.

When All’s Said And Done

Although it had been many month’s since he had received the last communication from Jiang Cheng, Wei Wuxian was still a little wary of letters. Having everything you thought you knew destroyed via that one missive made you wary.

He still woke up drenched in sweat some nights after dreaming about it.

Wasn’t it so much easier being the self-sacrificing one, hadn’t some small, proud part of him patted himself on the back and said Well done, Wei Wuxian, aren’t you wonderfully selfless, giving that hotheaded brother of yours your golden core, after he went tearing back to Lotus Pier like a fool. After all, it was his own fault he lost his own, thinking returning there would have had any other outcome.

How heartbreaking then, to find out his gesture wasn’t as grand as he had first thought. Yes, Jiang Cheng’s golden core was destroyed through his own actions. It was sacrificed to save Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng had given himself up, had been prepared to die, to protect Wei Wuxian instead. And the Wens hadn’t allowed him the honour of a quick, clean death, they’d wanted blood, torture, suffering, they’d wanted to break him before they killed him. They’d succeeded in everything but his death; as much as Jiang Cheng had wished it otherwise.

In the end Wei Wuxian had given nothing but a core for a core, one given to replace one destroyed, as if he had been the one taken back to Lotus Pier, like should have happened if Jiang Cheng hadn’t sacrificed himself for Wei Wuxian.

It somewhat lessened the need for self-congratulation, to know the truth of the matter, and he detested that misguidedly prideful part of himself that had thought his action worthy of praise.

So when Lan Wangji brought this communication to him and placed it in his hands he was almost scared to open it.

The script wasn’t Jiang Cheng’s, however, but another familial hand.

“From Jin Ling?”

“Mn,” Lan Wangji agreed, “brought by private courier, with the message that it’s extremely urgent.”

Wei Wuxian wasted no further time and broke the sparks-amidst-snow seal.

Senior Uncle, I messed up badly this time, jiujiu is in a really bad way, please come, I don’t know what to do, Jin Ling.

Wei Wuxian’s heart sank, for Jin Ling to admit he needed any kind of help was entirely out of character, which meant he was really shaken.

“I need to go to Lotus Pier. Immediately.” Wei Wuxian handed Lan Wangji the letter, who scanned it quickly, and nodded.

“Mn, we’ll go in a few moments, let me send a message to xiongzhang and to Lan Sizhui.”

Lan Wangji took no more than a few minutes to ink the messages, and they collared a young disciple on his way past to deliver them.

They were on Bichen in barely any time at all, but to Wei Wuxian it had seemed like hours.

They reached Lotus Pier just before dawn.

They must have been expected, because a pale, exhausted Jin Ling rushed to meet them. There was less of the arrogance Wei Wuxian was used to seeing on his nephew’s face, in fact he just looked small and scared and shell-shocked.

His bow was automatic, and completely for Lan Wangji’s benefit.

“What happened, Jin Ling?” he prompted. That seemed to shake him out of his torpor a little.

“We were on a night hunt. And I didn’t listen, and jiujiu got hurt.” Jin Ling shuddered. “We have to save him. You have to help, please. Tell me what will save him. I can’t lose him.” Wei Wuxian stepped forward to place hands on Jin Ling’s shoulders and squeezed soothingly.

“Lets go see,” he suggested after a few seconds, after he felt Jin Ling sag into his touch and let out some of the tension he was holding.

Jin Ling nodded, and they made their way through the Lotus Pier compound, and to the private family area, where Wei Wuxian hadn’t stepped foot for so many years.

There was a rush of emotion that made him feel a little light-headed at the thought, but Lan Wangji’s calming hand at the small of his back was a grounding touch.

There was a part of him that felt a little guilty at invading this private space without Jiang Cheng’s foreknowledge and approval, but, as he had always thought in his life, propriety didn’t matter when necessity drove the narrative.

They arrived at the rooms Wei Wuxian had known to be Jiang Cheng’s, from his first night huddled outside the door, then invited inside to sleep, when they had been so so young.

“Wei Ying, I’ll wait out here,” Lan Wangji said firmly, and as much as he wouldn’t have thought to ask, Wei Wuxian realised it was probably for the best. Jiang Cheng took such umbrage to his husband, it was just a sensible thing to do. To invade his personal space with the man he would probably like to speak to only marginally less than Wei Wuxian himself would only rile him, and if he was truly as ill as Jin Ling said that was the last thing they should do.

Jin Ling opened the doors, and stepped back so Wei Wuxian could precede him in.

It didn’t appear that Jin Ling had exaggerated. He moved quickly towards the bed, barely pausing to take note of the fact Nie Huaisang was in attendance, as well as a third person who he recognised as Lei Shirong, the Jiang Sect physician.

The Jiang Sect leader laid, unconscious, on the bed. His skin was chalk-white and his lips were bloodless, and there was a drawn, even more angular look about his already sharp features. The only time he’d ever seen his brother in such a state before was when he and Wen Ning had carried him away from Lotus Pier after being captured by the Wens.

There were several bandages around his chest, covering quite a large area of damaged flesh, if the blood that stained them was to be believed.

“Tell me exactly what happened, Jin Ling, in detail.” he ordered his nephew, who let out a great, shaking breath.

“We went on a night hunt. A yaoguai terrorising a local community of farms which the farmers had petitioned me to deal with. Except it wasn’t as simple as that. When we realised, Jiujiu yelled at me, told me to get the disciples out of there and let him deal with it. But...I knew...I thought Jiujiu would need my help. So I sent the disciples away. And I stayed.”

Wei Wuxian fought the urge to react, honestly the self-preservation instincts of this boy were non-existent. He was so like his uncle in his relentless drive to prove himself, it was scary.

“I didn’t mean to cause him trouble, I thought I’d be helping. Jiujiu put himself between me and the yaoguai, and it cut him open with it’s claws.”

“Is it dealt with?” a yaoguai who could catch Jiang Cheng on the back foot, even while he was distracted protecting Jin Ling, must have been particularly strong, and he feared for the farmers.

But Jin Ling nodded, “Yes, it’s dead.”

“Why hasn’t he healed yet? What’s wrong?” he moved his attention on to Lei Shirong, who had been testing Jiang Cheng’s qi flow with a touch at his wrist.

He was done with the back patting but that didn’t change the fact that the golden core inside Jiang Cheng had been one of the strongest of his generation, before he had even given it up, and Jiang Cheng had only improved it in the years since then. Healing most types of injury should only have been a matter of time for Jiang Cheng.

��There must have been a poison on the yaoguai’s claws, one that’s stopping his cultivation from healing the damage. I’ve tried packing the wounds but even the natural human healing process is being slowed. Unless the wounds start to seal, I can’t stop the bleeding.” he didn’t need to continue for his meaning to be clear.

“Are you able to cleanse the poison through qi circulation?”

Lei Shirong shook his head, a quick look of frustration crossing his face. A physician who hated to be bested by a condition he couldn’t cure.

“It’s too pervasive,” he said, “I’m currently trying various herbal poultices but nothing I can think of seems to have an effect,” he rose, after placing Jiang Cheng’s limp hand back against the bed. “I’ve exhausted my own private library, and that of Lotus Pier.”

Wei Wuxian glanced back at the door. That didn’t mean there wouldn’t be more information available in another library. The one at Cloud Recesses for example.

Briefly he wondered, lamented, what had become of Wen Qing’s personal library during the Sunshot campaign. But it was fleeting, gone, he couldn’t dwell on such things, not now when he had his next crusade to fight.

“Please will you write down everything you can think of regarding the properties of the poison? You too Jin Ling, I want to know everything you remember about the yaoguai,” he twirled Chenqing through his fingers briefly, considering, then moved over to open the door and step out. He was followed by Nie Huaisang.

“Wei-xiong, Hanguang-jun,” Nie Huaisang tucked his folded fan into his belt, “tell me how to help, I can’t sit here and do nothing.”

Wei Wuxian nodded his understanding. He had heard from little birds his childhood friend had finally made his suit to Jiang Cheng and things were proceeding steadily, so he hadn’t been entirely surprised to find the Nie Sect leader by Jiang Cheng’s side.

“Lan Zhan, I’m having some details of an unusual poison copied down, I need the information passing on to to the Lan physicians so they can check the Cloud Recesses Library for details. I also want to visit the yaoguai’s nest and see if I can find anything that might help; if we have the poison it might be easier to identify a cure,” Lan Zhan nodded his understanding. “Lets go.”

“Wei-xiong, I think you must stay here. I believe there are some things A-Cheng wishes to…administer to…that might help set his mind at rest, please allow Hanguang-jun and I to deal with the issue of the poison,”

Wei Wuxian was about to argue, but Lan Wangji placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I will go to the yaoguai’s lair, Wei Ying. Nie-zongzhu, please take the information to Xiongzhang.” Nie Huaisang nodded, “You should remain by Jiang Wanyin’s side.” Despite everyone thinking that was the best course of action, Wei Wuxian hated the idea of sitting by gamely and waiting.

***

Once everything had been decided, action was quick. They gathered the information together and prepared to set out.

“Hanguang-jun, I’ll go with you, to show you where we fought the demon,” Jin Ling clutched Suihua, but Wei Wuxian caught his wrist.

“Absolutely not, Jin Ling, you’re going nowhere. You will stay here, you are not to worry your jiujiu any further than necessary.”

“But…”

“No buts, nothing,” Wei Wuxian folded his arms, Chenqing’s tassel swaying as if to emphasise his words.

Jin Ling didn’t even have it in him to argue at the moment, just stomped back in the direction of his jiujiu’s room.

Wei Wuxian felt his shoulders sink. He straightened them as Nie Huaisang tucked the scroll containing the information for the Lan physicians into his sleeve, “We’ll tear the Lan library apart, if there’s a solution to be had I’ll find it, Wei-xiong,” he threw Lan Wangji a nervous look, flicking his fan out and waving it in front of his face, “speaking figuratively, of course, Hanguang-jun.” there was a nervous titter from behind his fan and Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes.

“Huaisang-xiong, you aren’t fooling anyone here with the Head-shaker,”

The eyes above the fan turned fox-like, “What can you mean, Wei-xiong? I really don’t know,” with that the fan was snapped shut and Nie Huaisang left with a sweep of his exquisitely embroidered sleeves.

Wei Wuxian felt Lan Wangji’s hands take hold of his shoulders then, and rub soothingly, “Wei Ying, I will be back quickly. I promise,” he leant in to place a gentle kiss against Wei Wuxian’s forehead. He threw himself at Lan Wangji then, wrapping his arms around his neck and holding onto him tightly.

“We have to save him, Lan Zhan, he and Jin Ling, they’re all the other has left.”

Lan Wangji caught his chin and tipped it up so he their eyes met, “They have you, too, Wei Ying.”

He twisted his lips a little, but nodded, “Yes, they do, whether they want me or not. I can’t lose him either, Lan Zhan, so go, be careful, and come back to me swiftly.”

“Mn,” he paused for only long enough to press a soft kiss against Wei Wuxian’s mouth before following Nie Huaisang.

***

He had sent Jin Ling away to bathe and sleep, promising not to leave his jiujiu’s side, towards midnight. His nephew, although young and resilient, was emotionally exhausted, and really needed to switch his mind off for a while.

Wei Wuxian wandered around Jiang Cheng’s rooms, between bouts of sitting by his bedside, looking for keepsakes or mementos he’d recognise. Of course, there couldn’t really have been any; the Lotus Pier of their childhood had been razed to the ground by the Wens, and everything in it, destroyed. Jiang Cheng, and he himself, were the last living relics of that Lotus Pier of memory. If his particular circumstances counted, of course.

Coming here was like this for him, a dull, pain-filled ache in his heart at the remembrance of what had been lost in the Wen’s lightning war on Yunmeng. He would be the first to admit he had been cocooned in his own misery when they had first come back after the Sunshot Campaign, with the intent to rebuild. He had been little more than a functioning alcoholic, and had therefore been, to some extent, numbed to the horror of the knowledge what had happened beneath their feet, to the memories and the pain. Perhaps that was why it hurt so much now. Perhaps that was why he was haunted by the feeling that sometimes, there were images just out of his sight. That sometimes, just out of the corner of his eye, he would catch sight of Jiang Yanli herding two boisterous young boys down a walkway. Or a gap-toothed Jiang Cheng running over to show Yu-furen the hole in the kite he had managed to hit with his arrows. Or Jiang Fengmian ready to pull Wei Wuxian into his lap and tell him stories of what wonderful people his mother and father had been.

Perhaps Jiang Cheng had made his peace with the ghosts of his ancestors treading these halls and walkways, perhaps he found their presence soothing. Perhaps they haunted him as much as they did Wei Wuxian.

He moved to sit on the floor by Jiang Cheng’s bed.

He wondered if, after Lotus Pier had been decimated, after the Sunshot Campaign had ended, if they’d just chosen to be wandering cultivators instead of returning to rebuild here, would their lives have been different? Would they have ended up as tragically as Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen? Could they have escaped the events that had lead them to where they were today?

Had Jiang Cheng ever even wanted to be the Lord of Lotus Pier? It had been drilled into him from before he was even old enough to count further than the fingers on his hands, the Jiang Sect was his providence, his responsibility, and would be his legacy. His life had never belonged to just Jiang Cheng, it had belonged to the whole of Yunmeng Jiang, he was the bridge between it’s history and it’s future.

Maybe he would have just preferred to be just Jiang Cheng, though.

The night wore on, the candles all burned lower, and in their hazy light figures began to form before his blurry eyes.

They slowly took shape, and he began to make out indistinct features, surely that was Jiang Fengmian, and Yu Ziyuan, and Jiang Yanli.

They made beckoning gestures at the bed, and he saw pale lips form A-Cheng repeatedly.

“Please, leave him alone. You don’t need him yet. We need him, Jin Ling and I.” he was about to climb to his feet when his head hit the wooden frame of the bed. The images faded immediately, and he looked around in confusion and fear. It was just before dawn; he’d fallen asleep by Jiang Cheng’s bedside, and dreamed the figures, awaking when his head and slipped off it’s supporting hand.

His heart still pounded fitfully in his chest in reaction to his dream, and he tentatively reached out a hand to touch the cooler one of Jiang Cheng where it rested by his side.

He held it more firmly, and laid his head on top of his folded arm, drifting back off to sleep.

***

It was still reasonably early in the morning when he awoke again. Lei Shirong had just entered the room and he dragged himself out of the way so the physician could attend to his patient.

Once he had run his tests and cleaned and redressed Jiang Cheng’s wounds, he left to return back to his workspace, where he still scoured books and scrolls.

As soon as the door closed behind him Jiang Cheng opened his eyes, and fixed them on Wei Wuxian.

“You could have told him you were awake, he’d have given you something for the pain,” Wei Wuxian said.

“He did, it’s not like he doesn’t know me by now,” Jiang Cheng’s voice was weaker than normal, a little thready, “but that doesn’t mean I want to talk to him, and be poked and prodded and questioned.”

Wei Wuxian’s lips twisted in a half smile, “Always the same, Jiang Cheng.”

“I could say the same about you…” Jiang Cheng paused, and looked up at the ceiling for a few moments, as if in contemplation. He returned his gaze to meet Wei Wuxian’s, “…I should probably warn you, I’ve made changes to the household registry, I’ve named you my heir.”

The comment, so matter of fact, hit Wei Wuxian like a blow, “What?” This must have been what Nie Huaisang meant when he said Jiang Cheng had some things he wanted to talk to Wei Wuxian about.

Jiang Cheng turned his face away. “I can’t name Jin Ling, he has the Jin clan to bring under control; there’s no one else left,” he said it so matter of factly, “and in honesty I have no intention of dying on you just yet. But still. Jin Ling will have Zidian. Just…make sure he hears about his family once in a while, and how much A-Niang would have loved him…” his voice turned thicker and he stopped.

Wei Wuxian didn’t call him on his bullshit though, if he had no intention of dying he wouldn’t be making provisions, as sensible as they were.

“If the cultivation world hears about what you’ve done…”

“I stopped caring about what they even thought about the weather, after it cost me everything. I don’t care anymore. Anyway, if I’m dead, it’ll be your problem, not mine.” he turned back to pin Wei Wuxian with a burning look then, “You owe this sect, Wei Wuxian. This isn’t about you, or me, or them, this is about Yunmeng Jiang, and you owe it.”

Wei Wuxian felt his hackles rise in response, but what would be the point in arguing any further? Rile Jiang Cheng up? That wouldn’t help. He blew out a breath, but it was too late anyway, as Jiang Cheng seemed to have drifted back into unconsciousness. He moved closer, but it was real this time, and not the feigned one he had used with Lei Shirong.

***

It was shortly after dawn the following day when Lan Wangji returned from his trip to find the Yaoguai’s nest. He looked solemn and weary, and gave a single shake of his head as Wei Wuxian walked out to meet him, then gathered him up for a hug.

He pressed his eyes closed and allowed himself to take the warmth and comfort Lan Wangji offered. “We’re reliant on Huaisang-xiong and your brother then,” he said eventually. They pulled apart as they heard the approach of another person. It was Jin Ling, coming to investigate whether Lan Wangji had found anything of use. He sagged noticeably at the negative response, and Wei Wuxian could do nothing but pat him on the shoulder soothingly. Somehow, he thought his nephew might protest vehemently if he tried to hug him.

“I need to speak to Lei-dafu, you should rest, Lan Zhan.” Wei Wuxian folded his arms behind his back and set off to the Lotus Pier infirmary, Jin Ling following after him. “You can go sit with your jiujiu if you wish, Jin Ling.”

“No, I need to know what’s going on. This is my fault, and I need to help put it right.”

He didn’t argue further, merely shrugged and allowed Jin Ling to follow him.

They were soon sat around the table taking tea with Lei Shirong at his invitation, while Wei Wuxian reported Lan Wangji’s lack of success.

There was little disguising that the lack of progress was a disappointment for the physician. But so had it been for Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling too.

“How long do you think we realistically have?” Wei Wuxian asked. Time was of the essence, but how much of it?

“I’m not sure, but I wouldn’t want to rely on his constitution for longer than a few more days.” Lei Shirong said seriously, and Jin Ling sucked a breath in.

“We need to give Huaisang-xiong more time, Lei-dafu. There will be something in the Gusu Lan library, I know it. So how do we create that?”

Lei Shirong looked at him assessingly, “Jiang-zongzhu is slowly bleeding to death, Wei-gongzi.”

“If you can’t stop the bleeding, then give him more blood to bleed with. He has my golden core, he can have my blood too.” It was perfect logic, surely.

“Do you think Jiang-zongzhu will agree to such a thing?” his tone made it obvious he thought Jiang Cheng wouldn’t. And he probably wasn’t too far wrong.

“Let me deal with Jiang Cheng, should the time come.” Wei Wuxian dismissed, and ignored Lei Shirong’s raised eyebrows.

“There is one more point, Wei-gongzi, it has always been noted that blood from familial veins tends to cause less complications than others.” he said it almost challengingly, as if testing Wei Wuxian.

Jin Ling, so eager to help in any way, leapt upon that, “Then jiujiu can have some of mine.”

This boy though! “Jin Ling…” Wei Wuxian started, but was cut off.

“No, it’s my fault, I want to help. You heard what Lei-dafu said, I’m jiujiu’s best match.”

“Do you think for even a second Jiang Cheng is going to agree to that, Jin Ling?”

Jin Ling’s chin tipped up, some of his fire back, “I thought we were going to leave that to you? He’s my family, Wei Wuxian, I can do this for him.”

“He’s my family too, you xiaozi.”

“Then maybe you should have treated him like it! Just do what you said you were going to do, leave the rest to me,” and Jin Ling got up and stomped out of the infirmary.

***

It had cut, of course. Wasn’t that Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng to a tee though? Always going to say the thing calculated to hurt most in their temper. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree, as they said.

“Sit down, how is anyone supposed to be on the verge of death in peace, with you stomping about their room?” the sudden sound of Jiang Cheng’s voice made Wei Wuxian start. He hadn’t realised the other had woken up. And he hadn’t thought he’d been making that much noise.

But still.

He moved over to the bed, and dropped to the floor, resting his back against the frame.

“What has Jin Ling said now?” Jiang Cheng’s voice was even weaker than yesterday, except he tried to project power into it. It didn’t work.

He found it much easier to speak on the subject when he didn’t have to look at Jiang Cheng.

“Nothing, he was just trying to annoy me,” he fixed his gaze on the doorway.

“I’d say it worked, with how you were muttering,” Jiang Cheng commented.

Wei Wuxian threw a look over his shoulder. Jiang Cheng stared up at the ceiling, looking so pale and fragile Wei Wuxian could barely contain the panic beginning to claw at him.

“He knows how to strike, just like his jiujiu. We had an argument about family, he thinks I haven’t acted very much like your family.” Wei Wuxian looked at the doorway again.

They were silent for quite a while.

“You aren’t required to, we aren’t. Once you relinquished your relationship with the sect, we were no longer marital brothers,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Jiang Cheng…”

“Don’t. I know why you gave me your core, Wei Wuxian, you did it because you promised A-Niang and A-Die you’d look after us. I accept that now. And even if I’d rather have died at the hands of the Wens, rather doesn’t help now. I could go drown myself in the lake and it wouldn’t make an ounce of difference to what happened. It was selfish of them to ask you, a child, to be responsible, but it was selfish of you to give me your core without asking me what I wanted.” he sucked in a breath, “It’s all done now.”

He turned abruptly, and grabbed Jiang Cheng by the chin, “We are not done, Jiang Cheng. Not while you have my core to prove it, I don’t give a fuck if you hate it. You were going to die for me, and I gave up my cultivation to save you. We are family.” He hadn’t realised what a strong hold he hand on Jiang Cheng’s face until the other met his gaze with burning anger and tried to jerk his chin free weakly. His grasp wouldn’t bruise though; Jiang Cheng didn’t have the blood spare for that.

“I don’t fucking hate your core. I hate what it did to you, and I hate that you thought I was so weak I wouldn’t survive if you didn’t cripple yourself so I wasn’t. And I fucking hate that we were never enough for you.”

“What the…?”

“Never. There was always someone else, or something else that was more important. It was never us, you didn’t even hesitate to leave us behind, for the Wens, for Hanguang-jun, what else is there to think?”

“None of that was ever about you, or Yunmeng Jiang, not being enough. You weren’t the centre of the world, Jiang Cheng.” he realised as that left his lips what a completely stupid thing to say it had been.

Jiang Cheng knew it too, if the mocking look in his eyes indicated anything. “I am the last person in the world you have to explain that to, Wei Wuxian. I have never expected to be, either. That was ground out of me as a child.” he raised a shaking hand then to wrap around Wei Wuxian’s wrist. There was barely any grip in his fingers though, “I’m tired, Wei Wuxian, and I’m slipping.” Jiang Cheng let out a heavy sigh, “If you don’t want to be stuck with Yunmeng Jiang, better attempt the impossible one more time, and save my life.” Wei Wuxian let got of his face, and grasped his hand instead.

“I don’t want to save your life so I don’t have to sit at the head of your clan, Jiang Cheng. I want you alive because you’re my damn brother, and I love you. Because Jin Ling has lost enough in his short lifetime, and he really needs you to be here with him. So fight your fucking hardest, you temperamental little shit.”

“I am, asshole, but it’s fucking exhausting, and it hurts.” There was a catch in his breath, then and he tried to stifle a laugh, “Ow, it hurts.” he gasped, trying to kill it, as his mirth set Wei Wuxian laughing in response.

“Then stop it, it’s not even funny, Jiang Cheng, why are you even laughing?”

It took him a few moments to catch the breath to speak, “The irony. I lay here on my death bed and all we can do is trade childish insults like we’re teens again.”

In the end Wei Wuxian had to move away from Jiang Cheng’s side to stop them passing the laughter between them, like a ball in a game. If there were tears there too, then it was just from laugher. Or not.

They didn’t get to continue their conversation as Lei Shirong chose that moment to enter the rooms, coming to redress Jiang Cheng’s wounds, and when he saw what a state they’d gotten Jiang Cheng into he chased Wei Wuxian out, with orders to stay away until the other was safely resting again.

He was just about to find Lan Wangji to pour his troubles into his husband’s ear when the other turned the corner. He was walking swiftly.

“Wei Ying, Xiongzhang has sent a messenger talisman. They have found some text identifying the type of demon Jiang-zongzhu was attacked by.”

“Do they know how we can cure the poison?”

“Mn. Xiongzhang has already sent Jingyi and Sizhui to collect the ingredients the physicians don’t have in storage. They will prepare the antidote and Xiongzhang and Nie-zongzhu will bring it as soon as it’s ready. They’re hoping to set off tomorrow morning at the latest.”

Whilst the news was welcome, that it would be cutting it so fine to Lei Shirong’s estimation of their deadline didn’t sit well with him.

“Is there no way they could have sent us the ingredient list and we could prepare it here?” he asked, but Lan Wangji shook his head.

“There is a specific algae that grows in the cold caves,”

“Ah,” he knew that meant that the Lan clan wouldn’t harvest the algae unless in great need, as the caves were sacred to them. “I’ll thank Xichen-ge for allowing us to use some when he arrives.”

As there was nothing he could do personally to quicken the arrival of the antidote he had to be content to sit and wait. And that had never been something he was comfortable with; he wasn’t a passive person.

On the subject of their increasingly tight deadline, he would push Lei Shirong and Jiang Cheng on the possibility of the blood transfer, he would even allow Jin Ling to be the donor if it increased Jiang Cheng’s chance of survival, due to Lei Shirong’s insistence that familial matches tended to have a better success chance. Jin Ling was young and strong and had a very high cultivation level for his age.

His message delivered, Lan Wangji asked after Jiang Cheng.

“He’s sleeping now. I got thrown out of his room for making him laugh, and hurting his wounds.” there was a touch of petulance in his tone; if he couldn’t act spoiled with his own husband then who could he search for sympathy from? But…

“Wei Ying,” even though he was an expert on Lan Wangji’s less expressive language and emotions, now Wei Wuxian wasn’t entirely sure if that was query, or disappointment in Lan Wangji’s voice.

“Lan Zhan, I don’t mean I stood by his bedside telling him jokes…it just…we were talking and it just happened.” He threw himself into Lan Wangji’s arms. “Why is everything so difficult?”

“Lack of communication.”

If anyone was qualified to make that comment, it was Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian thought burying his face into the front of the other’s robes.

And yes, he and Jiang Cheng were another relationship that had been left to fester and rot without either being honest with the other.

“It’s becoming so dangerously close to the end, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji made a soothing noise.

“I don’t know what will happen if we fail. Jin Ling…”

“Wei Ying, you can say it for yourself too. You have the right to worry for yourself too.”

He clutched handfuls of Lan Wangji’s robes, crumpling them. “I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Lan Wangji’s arms tightened around him.

“I know we haven’t been…close…since I came back. But it’s different to know someone is there…”

“I understand.” Lan Wangji’s kiss feathered against temple soothingly.

***

Wei Wuxian returned to Jiang Cheng during the evening, like a self-appointed night-watchman. This time he was joined by Jin Ling. Lan Wangji’s news had been reported to the others, and the relief had been widespread and obvious. But there was still an element of fear among them, with the deadline hanging over their heads like an executioners blade.

Wei Wuxian had told Lei Shirong he would discuss the option giving of blood as soon as Jiang Cheng woke up. The other said he daren’t leave it longer than the morning to perform the transfusion, or Jiang Cheng might not have the strength to heal even if the antidote was administered.

“You should get some sleep, Jin Ling,” Wei Wuxian said from behind Jiang Cheng’s desk, where he inked hundreds of small bunnies on the parchment in front of him.

Jin Ling shook his head, and they continued in silence.

Jin Ling drifted off to sleep in the early hours, resting his head on his folded arms on the bed beside Jiang Cheng.

Wei Wuxian left the bunnies, and watched them both from his vantage point.

He was falling asleep himself when he saw Jiang Cheng’s hand move shakily to rest on Jin Ling’s head. He stroked once, but didn’t have the energy left for more and let his hand fall back to the bed.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng’s voice was so low it was unlikely to wake Jin Ling.

“For what?” Wei Wuxian asked, ready to explode if he did something pathetic like apologise for dying, or giving up.

“For not standing by your side after the Sunshot Campaign. Jin Guangyao was right about that. I made it too easy for them to rip us apart.”

“You were little more than a child, Jiang Cheng, and you were being manipulated by grown adults who knew what they were doing, and had a history of it. And for you, it wasn’t like it was for me. You had your sect to think about, a sect that had been exterminated almost to the last man.”

“You were almost still a child too. And I shouldn’t have turned my back on you.”

“Jiang Cheng, lets not rake this over again. We both know we made mistakes, and we both have so many regrets about that time. But it doesn’t change anything. Like you said, you could drown yourself in the lake now, and so could I, and nothing from back then would be different. I’d rather look to the future.” He genuinely felt that was the only way they’d ever have closure between them.

There was the threadiest little laugh sound from between Jiang Cheng’s lips.

“Ironic, when I realise I may be ready for that too, at the point where I very possibly don’t have one.”

Wei Wuxian got up from behind the desk, hoping his moving closer wouldn’t make Jiang Cheng close up.

“I just…wanted you to know. Whatever happens, I am sorry,” Jiang Cheng said again. He turned his gaze to meet Wei Wuxian’s as he approached, then knelt next to Jin Ling.

“I am too, for how I was back then. I was hurting, and empty. I didn’t come to terms with the lack of a golden core very well, and I left everything on your shoulders, even though I’d promised it would be us against the world.” He placed his hand over Jiang Cheng’s, laid on the bed.

They were silent for a while. It may have been that Jiang Cheng passed out briefly; Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure. But when his eyes opened again, he knew he had to discuss the blood transfer soon, or Jiang Cheng might not be able to decide. He knew if he didn’t discuss it and treated it the same way as the core, he’d destroy all the common ground they’d managed to build over the past few days.

“Lei-dafu has a way to give you a little more time if we need. He can use a little of Jin Ling’s blood to try and replenish your own supply, and give Huaisang-xiong more time to get back with the antidote.”

He could see the automatic denial in his eyes. But instead of speaking immediately Jiang Cheng looked at Jin Ling, then Wei Wuxian.

“I’m a strong cultivator, jiujiu, I can stand it. Let me help.” Wei Wuxian hadn’t realised Jin Ling had woken until his voice sounded from beside him.

“Is it safe, for Jin Ling?”

“Yes, Lei-dafu said he’d just need to rest for a few days afterwards. It’s only like getting wounded, in that he’d regenerate more blood to replace that lost.”

Jiang Cheng eyed Jin Ling for a few more moments. Before he nodded. “Fine.” A breathy sigh followed.

“Jiujiu!” Jin Ling exclaimed in delight, and Wei Wuxian patted his shoulder in their shared relief.

Jiang Cheng slipped back into either unconsciousness, or a sleep very like it, shortly afterwards, and they had to be satisfied with settling down to wait again.

Dawn streaked the sky, and he wondered if Nie Huaisang had managed to begin the return journey yet.

No sooner had the thought formed in his head than they heard fast approaching footsteps from outside.

Wei Wuxian jumped to his feet, closely followed by Jin Ling, as they moved towards the door. Before they reached it, however, it was thrown open, and Nie Huaisang burst in, closely followed by Lan Wangji.

“How is he?” Huaisang pushed past Wei Wuxian and strode quickly to the bed.

The look on his face was solemn as he saw Jiang Cheng more wan and drawn than when he had left.

“He’s holding on, Huaisang. Is Xichen-ge…?”

“Gone to take the antidote to Lei-dafu.” Lan Wangji said, and moved out of the doorway as the two men they’d spoken of walked into the rooms. Lei Shirong was still trying to fasten his outer robe, indicating he’d been pulled straight from bed. Lan Xichen carried two earthenware jars.

They were followed with disciples bringing fresh supplies, a brazier and a standing oven.

“Once the poultice begins to work, Wangji and I will help support him in healing and repairing the damage. What would you say we should focus on most?”

“Flushing the poison, blood regeneration and healing the wounds.”

“I will help, Zewu-jun.” Huaisang said firmly. Lan Xichen merely nodded in acceptance.

He lamented that he was still unable to help Jiang Cheng in the way Lan Xichen intended, with the sharing of qi energy, and indeed in the next few hours he was completely useless, as Lei Shirong prepared and applied the poultice to draw the poison that was causing Jiang Cheng’s cultivation to be unable to heal him. Once it began to work the three cultivators got to work channelling their qi into Jiang Cheng to assist his own life-force in healing the damage.

Lei Shirong watched over all of it with a careful eye, occasionally moving Lan Wangji’s touch from Jiang Cheng’s wrist so he could measure for himself how things progressed.

Eventually, towards evening, Lei Shirong announced that he was happy the poison was fully expelled, and all the wounds had nit together, meaning Jiang Cheng would lose no more of the blood they had helped his body replenish.

“He will still need to heal for a month or so, but he’s now in a very good position to rely on his own healing abilities.” Lei Shirong’s final decree caused a breath of relief around the room.

Dismissed, others went to eat, and rest, and it was finally Wei Wuxian’s turn to do his bit. He sat with Jiang Cheng again, accompanied by Jin Ling.

They whispered conversations throughout the night, but Jiang Cheng didn’t stir, even when Lei Shirong came to check up on him.

The first pale flush of dawn through the windows showed his chalk pale skin had regained a little more colour.

They were shooed out to eat and bathe when Lei Shirong came just after dawn to change Jiang Cheng’s dressings again, and run his check-ups.

He rushed through a bath, change of clothes and a quick breakfast. They must have both had the same idea, because by the time Wei Wuxian made his way back to Jiang Cheng’s side, he ran into Jin Ling at the door. Nie Huaisang wasn’t far behind them.

They entered, to find Jiang Cheng propped up against the bed head, and Jin Ling made a choked noise and dashed forward. He sat on the bedside, ignoring Lei Shirong’s “Be careful, Jin-zongzhu.” as the physician finished collecting his things and said he’d be back in a while to run another check up.

“Jiujiu!”

Surprisingly, Jiang Cheng reached out to cup Jin Ling’s face in his hands, “Jin Ling, if you ever don’t listen to me again, when I tell you to leave somewhere for your own safety, I will break your legs, and then every other bone in your body.” Despite his strong words he pulled the boy against his side for a hug. Wei Wuxian suspected it would have been a very tight one, if Jiang Cheng didn’t have to protect his still-healing chest.

Jin Ling didn’t argue for once, and just allowed himself to be held, although there was a small complaint when Jiang Cheng pressed a kiss against the crown of his head.

He moved away, a fake scowl on his face when Jiang Cheng released him.

Nie Huaisang stepped forward, and it was his turn to hold Jiang Cheng’s face in his hands this time.

“Huai…” his words were cut off as Nie Huaisang leaned down to press a firm kiss against his lips.

“A-Cheng, tell me, what is the point in me giving you the time and space to fall in love with me, if you’re going to go and get yourself killed before we get to the good things?” there was a strong tone of scolding in his voice.

He didn’t give the shocked-to-his-soul Jiang Cheng any chance to respond, if, indeed, he still had the ability, as Nie Huaisang kissed him again.

“If you do that again, I’ll be the one breaking your legs.” Nie Huaisang promised when he finally pulled away. “Now, come along Jin Ling, lets discuss getting you another spiritual puppy.” Nie Huaisang dropped an arm across Jin Ling’s shoulders and pulled him towards the door.

“What?” Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian exclaimed together.

“Oh, stop it A-Cheng, we both know you’d love nothing more than if he had another three. And you…” he pointed his folded fan at Wei Wuxian, “…will just have to like it.”

They left. And Wei Wuxian turned to the bed.

“You’re going to have a very interesting life with Huaisang-xiong.” he said, amused at the thought that Jiang Cheng was in over his head with that man.

“So it appears,” if it was possible for Jiang Cheng to flush at the moment he probably would have. He still didn’t have enough blood to spare yet, however.

Wei Wuxian moved over to the bedside, and he sat down. “Don’t I get a kiss?”

“No!” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, then when he realised Wei Wuxian teased he snapped, “Wei Wuxian, stop messing around.”

Wei Wuxian became serious.

“Were you serious, about being ready to start trying to work through this with me? Because I was.”

Jiang Cheng’s gaze tried to skitter away, but he held it.

Eventually, Jiang Cheng nodded, “Yes. I am. Just…just be patient with me.”

“I’m going to need the same from you, we’re going to have to be patient with each other, Jiang Cheng. I just want us to try. I miss you.”

He leaned in, making it obvious he was going to hug Jiang Cheng, so the other could hold him off with a gesture if he wanted.

He didn’t, but he stayed tense at first, as Wei Wuxian held him, careful of his wounds. A few heartbeats later his arms raised and he returned it, tentatively, awkwardly.

“There you go, give your Xian-gege a hug, A-Cheng.”

“You!” It had the desired effect, and Jiang Cheng snapped at him, “Who’s gege? You’re insane, I would rather walk naked through Lotus Pier than call you gege! Shut up, Wei Wuxian.”

“You hurt your Xian-gege, Jiang Cheng.”

“Good!”

#yunmeng bros #reconciliation #hurt/comfort #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #lan wangji #jin ling #nie huaisang #background wangxian #background sangcheng #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mo dao zu shi fanfic #mdzs fanfic #the untamed #the untamed fanfic #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #Shay's stuff #post canon

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