Work Text:
Winter is the season for fury
Picture a man sitting on a temple, he stares at the white winter scenery. Seasons go by, the man can see them. But while everyone else seems to move along with them, the man feels frozen like the small pond at the distance.
.
He is back in the capital, where life moves even faster.
Motion is everywhere here; in the rhythm of the market; the imperial guard, doing their rounds within the palace’s walls: the workers at the docks, the musicians, although he barely pays attention to them now; the princes battling for favor, the eunuchs and the servants, the esteemed officials, all bought to one side or the other and keeping score.
Every time they move, they seem to reveal an empty space. All move under the emperor’s unseeing gaze, clouded to those spaces by pride so strong no wrongdoing is admitted as a reality, unless it is somebody else’s.
“And yet those spaces are all you can see,” thinks the man.
A mansion once belonging to one of the most important and loyal families, empty, overrun by nature, and yet lifeless.
The one prince who should have been ruler, replaced by two battling forces.
Another prince cast out in all but name.
Consort Chen’s lodgings. Collecting dust, occasional candles light up, as punishment, of all things.
The man sits looking at this city full of ghosts that no one but him acknowledges. There is winter fruit in his hands and on his mouth, and a trickle of juice threatens to trickle down his chin. The man doesn’t taste or care.
.
The man has a son. He has seen him grow from no more than a small cocooned bundle to a man, evidence that time has kept on flowing after all these years, faster than any stream, right in front of his eyes. A lifetime has gone by, and with it a baby grows into a man he barely looks at and barely knows, but who seems to be doing alright regardless.
.
So the man leaves again, back to the temple, where his grief is more bearable.
.
Picture a man, trying to clear his mind,
Picture a man, picturing a river flowing.
The only thing the man can picture flowing is rivers of blood. Flowing hair, down to a neck held by a noose.
.
The man is a frozen lake, and if you picture him, you can see him crack.
The man plans to end this timeless winter and make it go up in flames.
.
Except that, for all his planning, invisible to the eyes of most, there is another man, who sees the same spaces, who stops the first man. Marquis Yan looks at this man, who calls himself Mei Changsu, and wonders if time has stopped for him as well. If if it has something to do with whatever is hiding.
.
“The year has just started, a time for family and,” he would laugh at himself if he was the type of doing it beyond the confines of his own private thoughts, “perfect for new beginnings.” His son is easy to get to know, even after Marquis Yan has spent years having only a vague idea of him.
One of the first things he learns is that his son is friends with this Su fellow, and that he is sharp enough to know there is something about him, without knowing the specifics. He is courteous enough to give him his privacy and secrets, but whether that is his own initiative, or the influence of Xiao Jingrui, Marquis Yan has yet to discover.
“My son might need to be respectful to his elders, but,” Marquis Yan is old enough not to care about such things, “ a family reunion can take only so much time,” especially now that Yujin is old enough to have his own life. When he asks you, you tell him; “Old age needs its distractions and pastimes.”
First, start from the things you know, that is always the first step. Mei Changsu is well learned, has an impressively loyal network of information. Mei Changsu is the type of person his son can call a friend.
Mei Changsu does his best to act calm, collected, but part of him is brash; the manner of someone who is comfortable wherever he goes to do as he likes; the personality that strong and healthy boys have in their youth, or at least he does not act as somebody who has always been fragile.
He devised a way to help the princess Nihuang, who also holds him in high esteem. Mei Changsu, inevitably, drifts towards the seventh prince.
Very much like someone else Marquis Yan used to know, all those years ago. In fact, alike in so many ways, except looks and health.
More than anything, what fans the flames of his suspicion is this. As a man who had been frozen in the past, he can recognize the look in Mei Changsu’s eyes; always turned back and maybe even the eyes of someone who does not expect a future.
.
What type of tragedy does that to a person? This world has many, but at times it seems it is the same one over Marquis Yan shoulders. Or, he thinks, “I might just be an old fool, looking for sameness where there isn’t one.”
“This old fool might not confirm his suspicions,” but this he vows, “but he can help the man who unfroze time.” His inner musings are stopped by a welcome interruption.
“What are you thinking about?” asks Yujin.
“I think it's time I found something to pass time.”
“Music is a good one!” He will take you to see miss Gong Yu, she is SO GOOD and also, you might not be convinced now, but wait until you hear her, and and and and. He chatters the whole way there. He is right, the Marquis does enjoy the music, and marvels at something strange, “this winter there seem to be many people with a similar gaze to them,” he hadn’t seen them, before.
“The music is nice,” he says, meaning “I’m glad Mei Changsu stopped me, and I am here instead.” Yujin beams.
Spring is the season of romance, even an old heart like his knows
As the first blossoms of spring shyly open, he notices it more and more, or maybe it is simply that he has become a devotee to his new hobby.
Marquis Yan is walking, Yujin at his side, feeling as the world gets lighter and livelier in the soft breeze that touches their faces. Marquis Yan holds his hands behind his back. His son seems torn between imitating the pose and adopting a dignified air, and gesticulating as he speaks. They have been discussing whatever comes to mind as they walk.
“You never stop learning,” says Marquis Yan.
“And I thought you knew everything! It’s what everyone thinks, I’d dare to say, father.”
“What they think matters not; but what I meant, You never finish knowing yourself.” And apparently, I am against all odds a romantic. Or maybe just impatient to see Mei Changsu and Prince Jing stop their push and pull.
“I could have told you that!” he laughs, bright as the clear skies above. And real too, Marquis Yan knows now, having heard the sound, it is far from the solicitous one of the past, eager to please and be liked. To be seen. It suits him better.
.
I’m seeing a lot of things now, he thinks later; my son, the blossoms, and two idiots.
They have somehow managed to congregate, all of those who know of the Prince’s intentions regarding the throne, and more importantly, he would insist, justice. The only absence is Consort Jing, confined as she is to her palace. But she is present in spirit, at least, as she has sent many sweets, that the children are devouring.
Spring is the season of romance, even an old heart like his knows. If only somebody had told Mei Changsu, or Lin Shu.
.
Mei Changsu is using paying attention to Yujin as an excuse to not stare at Prince Jing. The only thing louder than the silence between the two of them is how the boy at his side is enthusiastically eating the array of sweets on the table. Yujin apparently can’t hold himself back from saying, he is already laughing at his own joke.
“Sorry Fei Lium the last sweet is for me!”, he also looks like many things, none of them approach sorry.
Faster than he can let the word “hmph” escape through his pout, the boy snatches a sweet from Yujin’s plate, his hands lighting fast. Never one to quit easily, Yujin complains in mock outrage.
Mei Changsu chuckles into his sleeve. Marquis Yan can remember how Lin Shu also was a shameless terror at that age, maybe that is why they are always together.
You know why, he says to himself.
He was an absent father not only due to carelessness and grief. Once he knew what he was going to do, rash despite the facade of careful planning, his distance meant protection; that his line and blood would not be punished for it.
(He had seen the emperor punish families for less, just on hearsay. How could he have deluded himself into thinking that his son would be different? For this, he has no answer.)
Lin Shu seems to be ambitious enough to envision the unlikeliest justice coming to fruition, and to see the path leading to this. But, he can’t see he might have a place in the more fair world he works towards, side by side with Prince Jing.
Marquis Yan thinks of a father and son building bridges, and what would have happened if he had pushed forward. He is honor bound to cover that blind-spot bigger that the emperor’s ego of Mei Changsu.
.
It is the princess Nihuang who, with all the decisiveness that has won her the Southern border, makes a move to break the atmosphere first, she invites Mei Changsu to walk with her; her brother a few steps behind.
The two of them make their way through the gardens.
It only takes a second For marquis Yan to see Prince Jing, watching Su and the princess. His eyes seem to reach towards them as surely as if they were arms.
Honestly, these children. “Does the prince enjoy the flowers?”
“I can, but I’m afraid that I’m not one to fully understand them.”
“A good king is always willing to learn from those around him," he pauses. “Perhaps you should learn from your advisor on this, then. And from the princess.”
“Is it that his divine talent, that even a man who has remained away from the courts, and has been back even less than I, would speak in his defense?”
This is why he will be good for the kingdom, Marquis Yan does not need to tell him what he wants to hear; in fact, the best course of action is not saying anything at all. He can mull it over, better to work with his nature, instead of against it.
The prince does not say anything anything else either. He is known for taking his time with things. He might not go now, or the next time, or the one after, but he will.
.
“Do you also think they need to, you know, work out their things?” Marquis Yan and Yujin are on their way back home, and he has looked like he had something to say for hours. So this is what it was.
“Their things”, Marquis Yan repeats, voice even. Curious to see how his son sees what he sees in the pair.
“Yes,” he makes a gesture with his hands, apparently trying to indicate some sort of dalliance as delicately as possible.
“Ah. Yes.”
“As expected of father and son! We really do have sharp eyes, and sharper minds, ” Yujin holds his chin with one hand, the other hand behind his back.
Indeed.
He seems to take the silence as approval, when he once would have only hoped, barely, for Marquis Yan to care. The change is nice.
Spring really can be nice. He stretches a little, before saying, “if you think so too, you better come up with a plan to help them along.” Interesting to see what Yujin can come up with to help.
At least Lin Shu always was fond of pranks, so, “hopefully it will cheer them up a little don¿t you agree?”
“What is the plan?” He is enthusiastic, as he always is when he can help his friends, and when mischief is part of the plan.
Those two will probably end this spring tired of looking at them, but. “Don’t you know? This season is perfect for observing the flowers.”
In summer, fruits should finally be ripe for the tasting.
But this summer is heavy, as tension builds in the capital, and even outside of it, it seems inescapable.
Maybe some of it is that it is even heavier when you are somewhat invested in the relationship of two best idiots.
Marquis Yan sneaks a glance towards Consort Jing.
Her face is as calm as ever. Pleasant and still, the envy of even the most experienced Buddhist monk. Can’t fool another expert at keeping his expressions at bay.
He is glad to have someone who feels as old as himself looking at these two.
.
Such concerns are put on hold when all of their lives are under threat. Then Marquis Yan sharpens like a sword: “the emperor cannot die. Not like this, not yet.
Justice first, he thinks, and making sure Yujin lives.
And, hopefully, I will live to see your face when your actions catch up with you, Marquis Yan thinks, more like himself than he has been in decades, as he holds up a sword and calls the emperor to remember the glorious past he desecrated.
.
After such a feat, the three of them stand in the middle of a battlefield, even if it is only a few seconds. It is enough for Marquis Yan to see them.
“She really is waiting for them to catch up,” Consort Jing appears at his side. She looks as cool as the shade you both stand in. But at this point, after everything that has happened during this summer journey, he can tell she is tired, but pleased, relieved.
“I am no expert on reading the fates and signs, but soon they will,” he is watching her closely. Right there a small twitch on her right eyebrow, the one angled towards him, or he wouldn’t even have seen it.
“Marquis Yan is known for his talent for strategy and seeing many steps ahead; this one would never presume to say the contrary.” This is mother speak for, I hope my son will show some hastiness, but I am intimately aware of who he is.
He answers what she means, rather than the words itself, “I also know my son well,” maybe he is also boasting a little, now that he finally can, “and he is on the warpath to make sure they end up in the, and these are his words, ‘most well deserved match in history, if only they would hurry up,’ so I have complete certainty that they will.”
“Surely a formidable force, but if he is on the warpath, who is leading the campaign?” Shrewd as always.
“I imagine it must make the time within palace walls go faster.”
The emperor is still affected by the events, and so she has to leave to soothe and placate him. But, sharing a joke after an ordeal, with a friend with a similar point of view, helps. And maybe it is the high of improbable victory, of dear things protected, but at this moment it feels like neither the old snake nor the two children stand a chance.
He also leaves, to pretend he is not fretting over his son. Yujin pretends to be smothered instead of pleased.
Fall is for family
Fall becomes the news emperor, Marquis Yan thinks besides Yujin. He might have exchanged his usual colors, for red and then black, but he still seems to fit fall colors best.
Maybe is that he is grounded to the Earth, first and foremost.
Or maybe it is the effect of finally having a weight off his shoulder, and his closest advisor resting his head upon his exalted shoulders. When Marquis Yan had raised an eyebrow at them, Lin Shu had simply said, “I have to remain warm at all times, doctor’s orders.”
“I didn't-I would NEVER order one of my patients to take part in such scandalous behavior!”, his doctor screams. He is a peculiar man. But only someone out of the ordinary could get both Lin Shu and Mei Changsu to survive into the man he has become. It has been a collective effort, because clearly he wasn’t helping himself at all.
With only his inner circle around him, Xiao Jingyan does not even pretend to be embarrassed.
Princess Nihuang wiggles her feet more comfortably on Lin Shu’s lap, above any and all reproach.
“Ah, to be young and shameless.” Marquis Yan sips his tea, not the water the new emperor is known to prefer, and looks at Yujin trying and failing to steal some food from Fei Liu’s plate.
Seasons, he has lived it himself, always seems to go back to the same beginning, but it is not a bad thing at all as long as they keep flowing.
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