Work Text:
There’s a tiny carved lotus tucked into Jiāng Chéng’s chair, carefully set into one of the petals of the lotus where he couldn’t smash it accidentally. He blamed the mountains of paperwork for not noticing it earlier. As it stood, he had no idea how long it’s been there or who would have the audacity (other than Wèi Wúxiàn, who was safely contained in Cloud Recesses). The wood rasped against his fingers as he grabbed it, intent on tossing it in the brazier and getting back to the harvest reports, but something stopped him.
For all the care they’d taken in placing the flower, it was poorly made. Jiāng Chéng saw where the creator had to keep adjusting the angles, the petals carved thin in places, uneven, and uncentered. Made with intent but not skill. Maybe one of the younger disciples? A warm feeling bloomed inside him, imagining a child insisting they could do it themselves, tongue stuck out in focus. A-Líng had been like that when he was young, so stubborn and well-meaning. It would be unjust to destroy something one of his students had worked so hard on. So he tucked it into his robes and gave a lesson on the importance of perseverance the next week.
The next one appeared three weeks later, much more skillfully made and with soft white wood. It was waiting for him on his desk and Jiāng Chéng should really be more concerned about how lax security was getting. Instead, he sat heavily and ignored it for nearly four hours as he steadily worked through his tasks for the day. Sect Leader Yao was trying to renegotiate water rights along their borders to favor his own clan. Jiāng Chéng nearly snapped his brush in half when the man suggested they should redo all of their treaties since the old ones had been signed by his father and were therefore “not binding”. He counted backwards from one hundred, then started to count the bristles in his brush when that didn’t work. It was useless, he was too frustrated with the reminder of his lost parents now to write a reasonable response, likely Yao’s intent. Sighing, he put down his brush and picked up the flower carefully.
Each cut was crisp and precise. Jiāng Chéng couldn’t even see the tell-tale oils from someone’s hands on it. A difficult achievement for anyone not familiar with the art. Made with both skill and care, then. The wood wasn’t local to Yúnmèng or even the region as a whole. So a different crafter with either money to import fancy wood on a whim or not native themselves. He checked the bottom for a crafter’s mark but found only smooth wood. Definitely not purchased, then. He frowned. Jiāng Chéng couldn’t think of a single person who’d visited who had both the means and the desire to spend so much time carving such a small thing, especially for him.
Mildly confused and a little pleased, he set it back on the corner of his desk and picked up his brush to write a polite, but firm refusal to Sect Leader Yao. Work went smoother after that, his anger held at bay by the little white lotus shining in the candlelight. Jiāng Chéng may or may not give a slightly rambling lecture about appreciating respected comrades to a group of dazed disciples a few days later. And if he sent a very, very short, excruciatingly polite message to Hánguāng-jūn asking after Wèi Wúxiàn, well. A good leader leads by example after all.
The reply was even briefer, clearly penned by Hánguāng-jūn himself. “He is well.” How thoughtful and utterly useless.
His mother would be furious if she knew how he looked for those little carvings now. It certainly wasn’t dignified for a Sect Leader to spend his time carefully checking over his office for gifts. Still, the next one was a passable attempt at one of the boats seen around Yúnmèng’s piers. The first carver had clearly increased in skill, though Jiāng Chéng frowned deeply at a very suspicious stain near the stern. They had nicked themselves while carving. Better proportions but more reckless in the creation. Overeager. The knives used for carving were sharp and they could easily cause serious harm to careless hands. He’d need to remind the juniors to take their studies seriously, but not to forget to be careful learning dangerous skills.
Jiāng Chéng never wanted another to suffer for his happiness, not again.
He took to lining up his gifts on his desk as he works and his collection slowly expanded. He didn’t receive another white wood carving, but he did get a duck, a sword, and something that was either a horse or a dog. Jiāng Chéng enjoyed rolling them in his hands, gently, while contemplating paperwork. Or when the quiet hallways pressed against him and he could hear whispers of A-jie’s laughter outside. His mother’s sharp-tongued scolding. When the blood, long scrubbed away, came back to haunt him. The first was an unending task. The rest lessened when he very pointedly stopped scolding his students for playing while in Lotus Pier, invited the village children in, and started to leave balls and other toys for them to find. When he sat down one day in his sister’s favorite pavilion and listened to joyous laughter in the distance, Jiāng Chéng felt the hole in his chest heal just a bit.
He found two in one day a month later. A pair of rabbits, one white and one black, boldly stared at him from his throne. These Jiāng Chéng nearly threw away, good manners be damned. Instead, he took them to his desk, set them down harshly and glared for a while. No stupid rabbits were going to force him to act. Next to the other carvings, all things he associated with his home, these were glaringly different. Staring at them held no clues to their carver, clearly not one of the previous gifters. Jiāng Chéng inhaled as deeply as possible before sighing, slumping onto his desk.
What am I doing? They’re just statues, stupid rabbits in their colors. Jiāng Chéng scrubbed his face in frustration. It had not been a good day already and now this. He could almost hear his mother scoffing at his weakness. Those two don’t even bother me, it’s not like Wèi Wúxiàn will ever dare set foot in Lotus Pier again. He’s got everything he needs up in Gūsū.
Jealousy and something sadder twisted in his belly and Jiāng Chéng pressed his hand there to quell it. He could feel the scar from his restored core through his robes. But it hadn’t been restored, it had been given. Teeth clenched, he snatched up the black rabbit, holding it up to his face to stare it in the eye.
“Why?” The rabbit didn’t answer, so he gave it a shake. “Why would you do that for me? You were so talented, so much better than I could ever hope to be. How could you do this to me? Give me a debt I can never repay? I didn’t deserve- Why?!”
The black rabbit kept its secrets and Jiāng Chéng set it down with a sigh. Then grumbled and moved it back so it sat next to the white rabbit. As it should, as it was meant to. He pushed them into the line of other carvings and scowled.
“Don’t expect me to forgive you for this. I can’t bend to your every whim and wish, I’m Sect Leader! I have to run Lotus Pier, by myself, and make sure we’re strong. I have to protect us, make sure it never happens again. So you stay over there and keep quiet.” He took their silence as agreement and opened another letter from Sect Leader Yao, already scowling.
Time passed and his collection grew so large he went and bought a little double shelf so he could safely display the carvings. All of them. The rabbits still annoyed him, but Jiāng Chéng kept them firmly in the center and it hurt a little less to look at them every day. He’d struck up a tentative correspondence with Wèi Wúxiàn and learned if he wanted real answers to his questions, he had to talk to Zéwú-jūn. The man was unstoppably polite and had a sharp sense of humor hiding under his smile. Talk of Wèi Wúxiàn and Hánguāng-jūn led to talk of their clans, which somehow led to trade discussions and a revisitation of their alliance treaties. Jiāng Chéng quickly got fed up with how long it took for their letters to reach each other and having to read such small, neat script every time he received one.
He liked to think his invitation to host Zéwú-jūn and his chosen traveling companions at Lotus Pier was a pleasant, maybe even welcome surprise, but Zéwú-jūn’s amused acceptance suggested maybe his letters hadn’t been nearly as patient as he thought. Still, it only made sense for them to talk face-to-face and Jiāng Chéng had yet to truly host his fellow Sect Leader since he had left seclusion. Or since the rebuilding of Lotus Pier, really. Conferences had been held in Lanling and Gūsū for so long, after all. It would be… nice to have guests. He ordered the guest rooms nearest his own cleaned thoroughly and stalked off to the kitchens to make sure they would have enough bland food to suit the Lan’s preferences.
Jiāng Chéng had expected arranging the visit to take at least a week, with how stuffy the Láns were, so he was shocked when one of the servants knocked on his office door and led in Zéwú-jūn’s entire retinue. Plus some extras. Why was Jīn Líng with them? Then he saw the two Lán disciples and the other one and rolled his eyes. Why wouldn’t Jīn Líng be with them. His nephew followed his new friends around almost as loyally as Fairy followed him. He stood from behind his desk and saluted.
“Sect Leader Lán, I apologize for not greeting you at the gate. I wasn’t expecting you just yet.”
A polite smile and a returned salute. “No need to apologize, Sect Leader Jiāng. I meant to send notice that we would be arriving soon, but-”
“But I said it was fine, since you like surprises so much.” Wèi Wúxiàn came walking through the door, followed by his… partner? He was practically skipping over to where Jiāng Chéng stood. “After all, Lotus Pier is always ready to welcome its allies.”
Jiāng Chéng clenched his jaw slightly, bending to stack his paperwork to the side. “True, but I would have preferred to greet you as honored guests here for negotiations, not visitors on a house-call.”
Wèi Wúxiàn waved him off with a grin. “Zéwú-jūn is the only one here on business. We’re just here to enjoy the fine weather of Yúnmèng, the lotus wine, and-”
“And what?” Jiāng Chéng snapped. “The lotus aren’t in season yet, there aren’t any night hunts nearby, and the river is too high to swim or boat in without skill. Though… there was a new play in town last week. They may still be here.”
“Jiāng Chéng…”
“Wèi Wúxiàn!” Jiāng Chéng shot back, then flushed when he remembered the rest of the room. “Speak. Or show Hánguāng-jūn to your rooms. I’m assuming you’ll be staying together and your room is still the same as it always was. Unless you’d prefer to sleep in the guest wing, ungrateful fool. You can tell Granny she has to clean another room, cause I won’t.”
A light touch on his shoulder made him look up, but Wèi Wúxiàn’s gaze was on his desk, not Jiāng Chéng. He glanced down. Oh . “When did you start collecting such cute statues?”
Wuxian reached down to snatch up one, the white rabbit to no one’s surprise, and Jiāng Chéng smacked his hand away. “Piss off! I can collect whatever I like, I’m Sect Leader now. Don’t just touch things that aren’t yours. Did you forget all your manners when you died?”
His… brother looked at him with big, begging eyes and he grit his teeth. And then carefully picked up the white rabbit to hand to his brother. “They’re gifts. Don’t ask me who from, I don’t know. Be careful with them. If you break one, I’ll break your legs.”
Hánguāng-jūn stepped forward, his stupid blank face caught somewhere between vaguely hostile and constipated. They stared each other down for a moment, but Wèi Wúxiàn just pulled him closer. “Look Lán Zhàn, it’s a rabbit. Just like the ones in Gūsū!”
Jiāng Chéng felt a wave of satisfaction that it was Gūsū and not home. Then he remembered that Wèi Wúxiàn would not stay. That he had made sure his brother would never be welcome here again. The family wing would be just as empty as it was this morning and would stay that way. He scowled, noticing that the juniors and even Zéwú-jūn looked interested.
“Come on then, gawk all you like.” Jiāng Chéng crossed his arms and huffed as Jīn Líng hurried over and began to look through his statues. “They’re mine, gifted to me, so don’t even ask to take one.”
He almost snapped when Jīn Líng picked up a couple but held his tongue. His nephew didn’t come to visit nearly as often as Jiāng Chéng would like. He could be a little lenient.
“Which one’s your favorite?” The louder Lán disciple (Jǐngyí? Maybe, he didn’t bother with disciples much) asked.
Jiāng Chéng frowned, tilting his head in thought. There were nearly twenty carvings now, each precious in their own way. But really, there was only one answer. Handily, Jīn Líng was holding the first lotus flower and he plucked it from his nephew’s grasp.
“This one.”
“What?” Jǐngyí leaned forward, squinting at it. “But it’s so ugly! The other lotus flower is much better.”
Jiāng Chéng pulled the flower back, holding it protectively. “If you don’t want my answer, don’t ask! Rude brat.”
Lán Sīzhuī, this one he knew because Wèi Wúxiàn often spoke of him in letters, bowed in apology. A nephew, perhaps, in a different life. Another piece of family lost to him. “Sect Leader Jiāng, why do you like this flower so much? Jǐngyí is right that it is not as skillful as the other carvings but beauty is not everything.”
He didn’t answer right away, rubbing his thumb over the uneven petals. “Because it was first. And whoever made it tried their best to make something meaningful for me. Look at how many cuts there are, how hard they tried. It would have taken hours to carve, especially for a novice. It was brave to give such a gift and that makes it the most precious.”
He nodded to himself and Jīn Líng helpfully started to blubber.
“What now, Jīn Líng?” Jiāng Chéng sighed, turning to his nephew. “What could possibly be wr-”
He was cut off by a sudden armful of sniffling nephew and he tried to shift the flower out of the death hold.
“What?”
As quickly as he had come, Jīn Líng pulled away. Jiāng Chéng tried not to feel disappointed. “I’m just so happy. You don’t smile much anymore and it makes you happy.” His chin went into the air like the spoiled princeling he was. “And you should be grateful. After all, I- I mean whoever made this for you worked very hard.”
Jiāng Chéng squinted at his nephew in suspicion, then grabbed his left hand. Ignoring the squawked protests, he pulled it towards his face. There. A scar along Jīn Líng’s thumb, right where a carving knife would go if someone was rushing. He clucked his tongue.
“I was impressed by your boat, Jīn Líng, but you should take more care. It wouldn’t do for you to weaken your grip making me gifts. You’re Sect Leader first now and your people need you strong.”
Jīn Líng flushed from his collar up. “You- I wouldn’t- This isn’t-”
Suddenly, the blatant interest in the room made much more sense. “Alright, fess up. Who made what? And don’t think you can lie to me, I know where you’ll be sleeping tonight.”
The other lotus was from Zéwú-jūn who looked pleased that it made the top shelf, the boat obviously Jīn Líng’s as well as the dog. The most of the others fanned out between the others, but some were still unclaimed by the end.
“Everyone noticed that Sect Leader Jiāng was happier with his statues, maybe some of your disciples made a few?” Lán Sīzhuī offered.
The rabbits were from Hánguāng-jūn himself, which made perfect sense and Jiāng Chéng wanted to gnash his teeth. Wèi Wúxiàn would never have dared to send something so shameless, at least not when he wasn’t there to witness the reaction. They stared at each other evenly before Jiāng Chéng turned away.
“You’ve had a long trip. I’ll have meals sent to your rooms so you can-”
“Jiāng Chéng~” Wèi Wúxiàn whined, clinging to his arm. Which he allowed, barely. He most certainly wasn’t pleased that his brother felt safe enough to tease. “We should eat together. I want to hear more about your little statues. You’re not getting rid of them now, are you?”
He rolled his eyes, then realized everyone was honestly waiting for his response. Embarrassment made him harsh. “Of course not! They’re mine and they’re staying right where they belong. You got a problem with that?”
Wèi Wúxiàn giggled, while Jīn Líng sighed noisily. “Nope! I always thought your desk could use a little ornamentation.”