Chapter Text
I’m outside the brothel playing with one of my few toys when it happens.
It’s strange what amuses me now, as a five year old. Toys have an appeal that they hadn’t had for many, many years in my previous life--though I’d had a small obsession with stuffed animals right up until I had died. So it’s no wonder that my favorite toy currently is my double-headed cloth tiger.
It’s dusk, and I’m sitting in the dirt making my cloth tiger walk on the ground with little jumps and sound-effects right outside the brothel, almost but not quite leaning my back up against the side of the building.
There are fewer and fewer people walking around as the sun gets lower below the horizon, the vibrant orange light slowly disappearing. I know that soon the clientele of the establishment behind me--called simply “Yu Jin’s Palace”-- will start to gather in earnest, though quite a few had shown up early this evening.
(The irony of the name isn’t lost on me--I really hope I never meet Jin Gaungshan).
A nervous-looking man had come into the brothel, a little earlier than most patrons, and Lu-guniang, taking pity on him (though not showing it on her face--she was good like that) had gone up to him with a sultry titter and given him bedroom eyes. I didn’t really feel like listening to that, so when the man had paid his dues to get an hour with her, I had decided to relocate outside Yu Jin’s to play outside.
My little brown robes were getting a bit dusty, and I’d feel bad about that later, probably, but for now I was content to play with the toy that I had named, with a chortle at my private joke, the word “Tiger” in English.
I hear a gasp from next to me, and I look up to find a woman suddenly in my space.
I lean back, nonplussed, as she says, “Ah, little one, you can’t play here! This is a bad, bad place!”
The woman is very obviously of a higher class, clad in fine silk robes and her hair done up in an elaborate hairstyle with a jade hairpin and expensive jewelry.
“Come away from there! Let’s go find your a-niang, yes?” she says, holding out her hand for me to take with a kind smile.
I glare at her, crossing my arms angrily, insulted on the behalf of Lu-guniang and the other women, who seem to have all gotten work early tonight.
“No!” I say, incensed, though it just sounds petulant in my high, childish voice.
“Ah, now little one, they do very dirty things in there, you know,” she says with a disgusted grimace, and my face hardens at the use of the word “dirty”.
I cut her off before she can continue.
“No!” I scream. “Shut up! My a-niang is not dirty! She does more work in a single week than you’ve ever done in your life, you… you stupid, prickish asshole! You--”
I stop on my tirade as the woman’s face twists in angry disgust, her lips turning up in a snarl.
I only have time to think, Oh, shit, I maybe shouldn't have used almost all the swear words I’ve ever heard the prostitutes use just now, before she rears her hand back and slaps me across the face.
I’m flung to the ground as she spits, “Dirty whore’s son! How dare you speak to me like that!?”
I open my eyes where they were clenched shut, more from surprise than pain, to see her foot rearing back with its ridiculous curled-toe shoes.
Hurriedly covering my head with my arms, I can’t help letting out a pained scream as her foot impacts my ribs. I cough, curling into a ball to protect myself further, tears streaming down my face and bile rising in my throat.
“And just what do you think you are doing?” says a feminine voice icily.
I open my eyes, blinking them to rid them of tears, to see Cangse Sanren, unmistakable in her veiled straw hat even from behind and without the donkey, standing in front of me protectively.
“And just who do you think you are?!” the woman who had kicked me snarls.
Cangse Sanren’s voice is still icy, but there is anger contained in every line of her body as she says, “My name is Cangse Sanren, disciple of the immortal Baoshan Sanren. Now, what are you doing beating a child in the streets?”
“O-oh, daozhang!” the woman says, giving a bow and an embarrassed, commiserating smile to Cangse Sanren. “You see, he was terribly rude to me just now! You can’t let people of his status show you such disrespect! I was simply showing him his place as the son of a--”
I glare at her, my expression thunderous even as pain throbs in my cheek and abdomen, opening my mouth to cuss her out again, “Shut up, you--!”
“A-Ping,” Cangse Sanren, says, looking back at me with a comforting smile, “Let your ayi handle this.”
“A-ayi?!” sputters the woman who had kicked me. “Daozhang, you do realize who his parents are don’t you?”
“Yes--Lu-guniang is my friend, and I’d advise you not to insult her,” Cangse Sanren says, voice like ice in the middle of winter.
Wow, I think, so Wei Wuxian gets his ability to be unwaveringly loyal to someone he barely knows from her, too.
“B-but…but, daozhang…” the woman, flabbergasted, stutters, seemingly at a loss of what to say.
“I’d also advise you not to beat her child,” if you value your life, is heavily implied but not said.
I stare up at Cangse Sanren with starry eyes as the woman who had kicked me stammers a few more words before fleeing the conversation rather gracelessly, though with the presence of mind to bow to her hastily one last time.
Cangse Sanren turns towards me, her icy expression melting to reveal a gentle smile. She crouches to get down to my level, and I struggle to sit up.
“D-daozhang…” I start with a sniffle, trying to come off as respectful but only managing pathetic.
“Ah, a-Ping, just call me ayi,” she says, before taking my face in her hand. “Now, let's get you healed up.”
I jolt in surprise as electric warmth flows into my skin from the point of contact, feeling the developing lump shrink slightly.
“I’m not as good as my husband at this sort of thing, apologies a-Ping!”
“What-- is that spiritual energy?” I ask in astonishment. “Don’t apologize Daozh-- er, ayi! This is amazing!” I put my hand to my cheek.
Wow! It barely hurts! I think, though there’s still a bit of a bump there.
“Ahaha, thank you a-Ping! Where else are you hurt? I saw her kick you,” she says, brows furrowed as she thinks of the incident.
“Uhm, my ribs,” I say.
“Ah,” Cangse Sanren says, then, “Is your a-niang working?”
“Yes, ayi! The man seemed very nice, but she’ll be busy for another incense time,” I say, not sure where she’s going with this.
“Ah! That's plenty of time,” she says, and then promptly scoops me up, careful of my injuries. “We’ll have you back before your a-niang has even missed you,” she says cheerily.
“What? Where are we going?” I ask in confusion, squirming in her arms.
I guess Wei Wuxian gets his issues with consent from her, too, I joke to myself.
“We’re going to my inn room to get you healed up-- Changze is much more skilled at healing, a-Ping-- and you can play with a-Ying while there, too!” she says, and then sets off down the street.
Well, as long as Lu-guniang isn’t worried… I think, the prospect of not only seeing Wei Ying but also no longer having this ache in my ribs enough to sway me.
“W-wait!” I cry, “What about Tiger?” I ask, the English word sounding strange among the rest of the sentence.
“Hm? Tiger?” she questions, stopping, the foreign word coming out not quite right in her mouth.
“Uhm! My cloth tiger,” I say, looking for it. “Ah! It's there!” I say, looking over her shoulder and pointing.
“Ah, I see, how did I forget about Tiger?” she asks with amusement, turning around and picking him up off the ground.
The little yellow toy has a bit of dirt on it from being thrown to the ground when I had been hit, but it's otherwise undamaged.
“Thank you, ayi!” I chirp as she hands it to me, hugging it to myself so I wont drop it.
I yawn suddenly, and get myself more comfortable in her arms, my little toddler body tuckered out after all the activity.
Cangse Sanren strokes my head gently as I drift off to the rhythm of her steps on the earth.
----------
I wake when Cangse Sanren shifts me in her arms to open the door to a building, yawning and rubbing my eyes to take in my surroundings.
It is indeed an inn, the doorway opening up to a main room with several wooden tables with chairs placed neatly around them and a fireplace that would be blazing if it were winter. Despite the neatness, there’s a state of…not quite disrepair, but something close, of a place with too little money. It’s a common sight in Yiling.
Cangse Sanren strides past the desk with a smile at the man at the desk, said man giving her a questioning smile but saying nothing.
Wow, people really respect cultivators…what if she was kidnapping me?
She comes to a stop in front of a room and juggles me in her arms to get at a key in her qiankun pouch (which I’m very curious about-- is there a limit to how much it can hold? What does it feel like when you stick your hand in it?) and opens the door.
Wei Changze looks up at her with a warm smile, before his eyes alight on me, and his brow furrows at what I'm guessing is the sight of the slightly discolored lump on my cheek.
I smile at him tiredly. “Hi, daozhang! How are you? Where’s a-Ying?”
He smiles at me in amusement. “Ah, single-minded, aren’t you?” Then he turns towards his wife and asks, “What happened?”
“Some--” she pauses, likely holding back a swear word.
I blink, because didn't she just hear me cuss that lady out?
“Some young mistress hit him!” she says, sounding enraged, though I can’t see her face, her cold anger gone now that the situation is over. “And she insulted Lu-guniang! I swear, if she were a cultivator…” Cangse Sanren growls.
Wei Changze’s eyes darken, but he only says, “Bring him here--does it hurt, a-Ping? I’ll make it better,” the last part is said soothingly, and I think that he must've had more experience with kids than Lu Fang.
“Yes,” I say simply, “she kicked me, and I almost threw up.”
“Where did she kick you?” he asks, glaring like he can see the woman in front of him and is about to chew her out himself.
I point to a place low on my ribs, touched by their care, but not wanting to make them more angry.
The pain is sharp and stabbing, with an all over ache at the same time that makes breathing difficult now that the tiredness and adrenaline have worn off.
“Alright,” he says, “let's get you out of your robes and take a look, okay?”
I nod, and let him undress me, well used to it by now.
I can’t help but let out a yelping whimper of pain as he lays his large hand on the lower part of my chest.
“Shhh, shhh, it's okay a-Ping, it'll be better soon.” he comforts.
Then he presses down a bit harder, and I let out a string of curses that makes him pause.
Cangse Sanren bursts out laughing, “Oh, little one, you certainly have a mouth on you!”
She doubles over with her cackling, holding her stomach.
“Cangse, don't encourage this behavior,” Wei Changze says, but his tone is exasperated and fond instead of annoyed.
“Sorry,” I whine with a pout, “it just-- it hurts, and the jiejies at Yu Jin’s always say those things!”
He sighs, seemingly letting it go in the face of my injury.
“Just bruised, not broken,” is Wei Changze’s verdict a few moments later with palpable relief.
“Now,” he says, “I’m going to use a cultivation method I learned to heal you, alright?”
“Okay,” I say agreeably, more than ready to get rid of this pain.
I look down as I feel energy flowing from the palm of his hand into my body, his energy distinct from Cangse Sanren’s in that it’s cool and soothing instead of warm.
It’s strange, looking down and not having a chest, and I blink at the moment of disconnection I feel from this body before bringing myself back to the present.
There’s a slightly purple cast to the skin where the woman’s shoe had landed, but there hasn’t been enough time for the bruise to truly form, and I gasp in wonder as that fades along with the pain.
“Daozhang,” I say, eyes wide with wonder, “thank you! That feels good as new!”
It’s one thing to see cultivators flying on swords over your head one time (no matter that it had freaked me out so badly I dissociated when I’d seen it) but it's another to have that same magic touch your skin and heal your wounds.
“Call him jiujiu,” Cangse Sanren says with a grin, and Wei Changze looks at her in fond amusement.
“What?!” I squawk. “Really? But you barely know me! Why do you care about us?”
Cangse Sanren says with good humor, “A-Ping, your a-niang was the first person who gave these lowly rogue cultivators a smile in this town--how could we not care about you?”
“Wait, people are mean to you because you’re not sect cultivators?” I say incredulously. “Why?”
Wei Changze says with a twinkle in his eye, “That’s a bit of an exaggeration-- I think she just likes that Lu-guniang let her hold you! You were awfully cute, a-Ping.”
He says the last part like he’s imparting a secret, and I say incredulously, “No, I wasn’t!”
“You still are,” Cangse Sanren says with a grin.
“Am not!” I say, and much to my chagrin, stomp my foot angrily.
Both the adults laugh, and I flush in embarrassment.
Just then, there’s a little trilling groan from the bed on the other side of the room.
“A-die…?” asks a high pitched, sleepy voice.
“A-Ying!” Cangse Sanren says, “Sorry we woke you--but now that you’re up, we brought a friend for you to play with!”
“A-niang!” Wei Ying cries happily, before yawning and rubbing his eyes. “Friend?”
“Yes,” says Cangse Sanren, “do you remember a-Ping from when you were younger?”
Probably not, he was like one and a half, I think wryly, and it's been two years since then.
Wei Ying shakes his head no, looking over at me questioningly, before his face splits in a wide grin.
My heart melts as Wei Ying struggles to get out of bed, throwing back the covers that are heavy to his weak little arms.
“Ah, wait a-Ying, I have to finish healing a-Ping first--then you can play,” says Wei Changze.
Wei Ying freezes, sadness overtaking his face, as he says, “A-Ping hurt?” Then, he tries to get out of bed even more insistently than before.
Cangse Sanren goes over to him, saying, “He’ll be fine a-Ying, you don’t need to rush over.”
“B-but. But a-Ping hurt!” he wails, and I watch in horror as tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.
“I’m fine, a-Ying! It’s just a little bump,” I assure him, lying to his face about my previously-bruised ribs, finally remembering to pull my robes closed.
“He’ll be fine, a-Ying.” Wei Changze says to his son.
“Promise?” Wei Ying sniffles, looking from me to his father and back again.
“Promise,” I say with a smile.
After my cheek is fully healed, Wei Ying perks right back up.
Bouncing over to me, he says, “Play what?”
“Uhm,” I say, not having anticipated this--how do you play with a small child? “Well,” I start, presenting my double-headed cloth tiger to him, “This is my tiger, Tiger, and uh… he goes on adventures!” I improvise.
“Adventures?” Wei Ying asks brightly, intrigued, his eyes intent on my face, and then on the toy.
“Yeah! Like…” I trail off, trying to come up with anything, then, looking outside, “Like, he jumps over the moon!”
“Jumps high!”
“Yup!” I say, “Every night!”
Thank the gods for that children’s book in my last life!
Wei Ying laughs, clapping his hands in delight. He scooches closer to me, and I hand over Tiger for him to inspect.
The toy is yellow, with a pig's nose and what I think is a bristly white mustache, and sewn on black eyebrows that look like clouds, over round white eyes. It has two faces, one on the back and one on the front.
Like Catdog, except culturally significant.
We play, or rather, I watch Wei Ying play, for around two thirds of an incense time, making Tiger jump over various things, before Cangse Sanren remembers that I have somewhere to be so that Lu-guniang doesn’t panic looking for me.
I say goodbye to Wei Ying sadly, and he watches me go far more tearfully.
“See you soon, a-Ying!”
And so goes my first play date with Wei Ying.