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When BaoShan SanRen’s disciples left her mount, she gave them two rules to follow: The first was to be kind, courteous, loyal, and never turn away a person in need. The second was to never come back to her mountain. Many had called her cruel for this rule, but she stood by it- for if none could come back, then she would have no understanding of the outside world: she would not be grieved by it nor would she take delight from it.
Because of these rules, only three of her children ever decided to leave. Yanling Daoren was the first of them. He had been called the ‘Morning Sun’ when he resided on the mountain, he was known for his generous heart and powerful cultivation. When he left, he’d already cultivated to immortality and told her he wanted to experience the world, but he loved BaoShan SanRen as his mother and would not leave without her permission. She had granted it and with him, she did not order that he never return. He didn’t anyways.
When Cangse SanRen had asked for the same thing, BaoShan’s heart wept. It was Cangse who first received the rule to never return to the mountain if she left. Hearing her mother’s ultimatum, Cangse had bowed to her and agreed to never return and help anyone who would ask for help. BaoShan SanRen let her go and she did not return.
Then came Xiao Xingchen. BaoShan SanRen asked of him the same thing he had asked of Cangse SanRen and he had agreed. He’d given her a playful bow before disappearing down the mountain and BaoShan SanRen retired to her other disciples. They were more than disciples to her, they were her family- every one of them was a child to her, for they’d all been orphaned and abandoned near the base of her mountain. Some were powerful cultivators, others were not yet she loved them all the same. For as long as they stayed near her, she would not allow death to touch them, even if they never cultivated. But once they left her mountain, she could protect them no longer.
Of all her students, it was Xiao Xingchen that kept in contact with her. The rule was to never return to the mountain, if said nothing about sending messenger birds to her after all (so said the first letter BaoShan SanRen had received after he’d left). He talks endlessly about his travels, about what the world is like, and about his new friend: Song Zichen. Then one day, there are two letters. One is the normal letter from Xiao Xingchen and it warns her the second letter is not full of good news. If she doesn’t want to read it, she doesn’t have to. It contains the fate of her other two children.
For three days, BaoShan SanRen does not read it. On the third day, she breaks the seal, reads it, and weeps. The Morning Sun of the Mountain, Yanling Daoren, was killed by ten thousand swords. The rumor is that he became evil and was put down, but Xiao Xingchen can find no truth in the rumors, though he has tried. Cangse SanRen, she whom BaoShan SanRen had shared a courtesy name with, was married and had a son. Both she and her husband perished in a nighthunt and their son was taken in by the Jiang Sect. He’d grown into a powerful cultivator, there’d been a war, he’d become a demonic cultivator, and he’d been killed. All her children had ended in tragedy...but she was not going to let Xiao Xingchen join the ranks of her dead family.
Mind made up, she talked to all her other disciples and they agreed with her: they would leave the Mountain and uphold the same rules that BaoShan SanRen had made her children agree to.
When she descended down the mountain with one hundred disciples, the sleepy city five miles away took notice. Within three days, every major sect and most of the minor ones knew as well: BoaShan SanRen had left her sacred mountain and was heading for Yiling with all haste. Many sects hoped she would stop before the Burial Mounds, that she would suddenly deviate course and head somewhere else. But no, they flew without stopping. Every village, city, and Sect House they passed over looked up as the sky would suddenly go black as one hundred cultivators flew over, impeccably balanced on their swords. Many children chased them for miles, before eventually turned back and heading home.
Yiling was not a very big town and was very unprepared to suddenly host one hundred people. So they were quite grateful when only half of them decided to stay in the city, while the others pushed onwards towards the Burial Mounds (the local governor had tried to convince the simply dressed cultivators to not go there, but BoaShan SanRen paid him no mind). Their swords were not drawn, but they were still clearly visible to anyone who looked.
Halfway up this new mountain, a man dressed in white holding a child similarly dressed stopped them. He did not say anything, merely stared at BaoShan SanRen.
Part of her wanted to unleash her fury for the abrupt ends of her children and grandchild, but she held her temper. “I am BaoShan SanRen,” she greeted him without a bow, “who are you to stand in my way?” Grief and rage swirled just beneath her skin, if there was any indication she would need to, she could level this entire mountain.
“Sect Leader BaoShan,” the man returned with a formal bow, which was quite a feat considering he was still holding a child, “I am Lan Wangji. I will not let the discourteous trespass on Wei Wuxian’s resting place.”
And he had brought a child to do so? “Be at peace then,” BaoShan SanRen informed him, “for I am here to ensure my martial grandson’s remains are not disturbed. These are my disciples, not one of them wishes to pay Wei Wuxian any ill.”
Gold eyes looked over each of the fifty-one cultivators before bowing again. “Then may I present, Wei Yuan. Adopted son of Wei Wuxian.” This time he presented the child to BaoShan SanRen.
In this child, BaoShan SanRen saw both her adopted daughter and her son. There might be no blood between them, but choice was often stronger than blood anyways. This was her great grandson, Wei Yuan. “Thank you for bringing him to me, Lan Wangji.” BaoShan SanRen informed him seriously, taking her great grandson from him. This close, she could clearly see the turmoil in the younger man’s eyes. So much grief for one so young… “Tell me, young cultivator, what is your relationship with my martial grandson?”
Lan Wangji looked away from her, but was saved by answering by a familiar sword glare in the sky. The one beside it was unfamiliar, but she had read Xiao Xingchen’s letters and could presume that to be Fuxue, Song Lan’s sword. The two cultivators alighted their swords nearly directly beside them and Xiao Xingchen, in a storm of white, flung himself at her in a hug.
He stopped with an arm around her, obviously noting that there was an additional passenger.
“Mother,” he asked, “who is this?” Xiao Xingchen leaned down to examine the child more closely, but little Yuan chose that moment to start crying. Lan Wangji took an aborted step forward, then looked lost for a moment and BoaShan SanRen took pity on him.
The aborted movement had also caught Xiao Xingchen attention. “Hanguang-Jun? What’re…” he looked between the child and Lan Wangji.
Yuan was still crying in BoaShan SanRen’s arms and while she was not perturbed (this was hardly her first time dealing with a fussy child and it would hardly be her last as well, she was expecting several more grandchildren and great-grandchildren, plus the youngest of her immediate disciples was around five), Lan Wangji was. “Hanguang-Jun, obviously A-Yuan is not ready to give you up.” And she carefully tucked Yuan back in Lan Wangji’s arms. Yuan immediately buried his head in his shoulder, chubby fingers grasping at his hair. The crying died out slowly. Anyone else would probably look undignified, but she could see how he minutely relaxed. “Since my great-grandson cannot bear to be parted from you, will you join us?”
Lan Wangji mutely nodded and BoaShan SanRen inclined her head back before grabbing and hugging Xiao Xingchen tight. Xiao Xingchen hugged her back. “Mother...I wasn’t expecting to ever see you again.” He admitted it quietly to her neck.
BoaShan SanRen scoffed as she released him. “I said you could never come back, I said nothing about not coming to see you. Your manners are lacking, you haven’t introduced me to Song Zichen.”
Xiao Xingchen’s smile was incandescent as he made his bows, first to BaoShan SanRen and then to Lan Wangji. “Apologies, Honorable Mother BoaShan SanRen and Hanguang-Jun. This is my cultivation partner, Song Zichen who wields Fuxue.” Song Zichen politely bowed to both of them, but approached no closer. BoaShan SanRen didn’t miss how Xiao Xingchen referred to Song Zichen though and made a note to interrogate him afterwards. He’d failed to mention that he and Song Zichen were dual cultivating. If they intended to marry, Song Zichen must first prove worthy of her son.
“I’m glad to finally meet the man my son tells me so much about,” BaoShan SanRen informed Song Lan with a bow. “Are you two joining us?”
“What’re you doing, exactly?” Xiao Xingchen asked.
“The cultivation world seems intent on killing off my family as I send them down one by one,” BoaShan SanRen informed him. “This mountain has taken the life of Yanling Daoren and now Wei Wuxian. Both bodies are unrecoverable. The only way to honor them now is to honor and cleanse the mountain.” If it was in her power to help them find peace after death, then she would do it. “Wen Mao was a friend of mine when we were young, I will not let her children’s spirits be left here. I intend to make the Yiling Burial Mound the home of the SanRen Sect.”
Xiao Xingchen stilled and looked around at the black wood and oppressive feeling of doom. This was to be a home? Furthermore… “Elder brother Yanling Daoren died here? How do you know? I didn’t hear anything about that.” And he’d looked for information about Daoren when Song Zichen had first told him the myth behind the man it took ten thousand swords to take down.
A mother always recognizes her children, even when their is lost to torment with the pain of being a dumping ground. He’d never healed from the first war here… She didn’t tell Xiao Xingchen that though, it was likely he wouldn’t understand. Few people got what it meant to finally embrace a truly immortal existence as a cultivator. “It’s the trees. They look like the scorched trees from A-Dao’s first attempts with his sword. Now come, I must inspect the place to decide where we will settle.”
The vast majority of her cultivators trailed behind her, though Lan Wangji, Xiao Xingchen, and Song Zichen fell into step with her. She used her golden core to keep most of the corpses away, using talismans to dispose of the few who still wandered close. There were cries of grief in the mountain every time a corpse faded, which worried BoaShan SanRen but she would not let them attack her people either.
Ahead of them was an invisible fork in the road. BoaShan SanRen intended to turn left, but Lan Wangji went right and she followed after him. The road immediately shrank, condensing their ranks so they could walk two abreast only. Lan Wangji and her led the way, with Xingchen and Zichen right behind them.
Their final destination was a dilapidated living area. There were still some barely standing huts, their bamboo walls scorched with fire. There was no more smell of death here than anywhere else, but SanRen didn’t just see with her eyes. “This was where the Wen Remnants died.” It wasn’t a question, she could feel all their deaths crowding her senses. Lan Wangji nodded though, clutching Yuan closer. Carved into the mountain itself was a palace that called out to her. Yanling Daoren’s presence was denser here than anywhere else, though not enough to make even a proper ghost.
“Xi Su!” BaoShan SanRen called out and one of her disciples rushed forward, bowing. “This is the place I tentatively chose. I must first contact the spirits of the Wen Remnants and ask them if they’ll allow this however. If I do not emerge in 24 hours, lead everyone to a different site.”
“Yes, Most Honorable Mother BaoShan SanRen.” Xi Su replied with another deep bow. “Will Elder Brother Xiao Xingchen join us?”
Xingchen looked between SanRen and Xi Su before sighing. “Yes, I will join you. Song Zichen, please watch over my mother.” Zichen inclined his head slightly. “Hanguang-Jun, do you intend to join them?” Another inclined head. “And will Yuan come with me or you?” With great reluctance, Lan Wangji handed A-Yuan over to Xingchen.
A-Yuan immediately began to cry, but Lan Wangji gently pet his hair. “Little star,” he addressed A-Yuan quietly, “please behave for Second Uncle Xingchen while I am away.”
A-Yuan sniffled, looking up at Lan Wangji with water filled eyes but nodded. Lan Wangji made to go back to SanRen’s side, but A-Yuan grabbed his arm, stilling him instantly. “Come back.” A-Yuan said. “Promise.”
“I promise I’ll return.” Lan Wangji said with no hesitation. A-Yuan nodded solemnly and let him go.
With Lan Wangji on her right and Song Zichen on her left, BoaShan SanRen entered the Demon-Slaughtering Palace. She headed right for the blood pool, where she could feel her son the strongest. There were talismans on the floor and she saw Lan Wangji pick on up, gently tucking it into his sleeves and figured Wei Wuxian must have made them. Strangely enough, while SanRen could feel Doaren, but not Wei Wuxian, yet Wei Wuxian had died here as well. Where was his spirit? Had demonic cultivation destroyed everything of the bright boy her daughter had given birth to?
SanRen sat on the floor, uncaring about the dirt and grim. She called on her golden core and materialized her zither in front of her. In was a guqin, crafted by her own hand and sister to Lan Xifeng’s and later Lan Yi’s own. SanRen had made them together when she first learned to musically cultivate. Most of the time when SanRen had to musically cultivate, she did not use this particular instrument for it held too many memories. But it was the one bound to her core- it would always be with her and no mortal means may destroy it.
She started Inquiry and then felt Lan Wangji’s curiosity. For a man so reserved in feature, his emotions bubbled along the surface of his core- easy enough for someone of SanRen’s cultivation level to read. For all his curiosity, though, he did not outwardly ask any questions, simply sat down beside her and joined her in her song.
Unlike the typical Inquiry though, hers was pointed. She was calling to the Wens first.
Only three hours had gone by before they emerged from the Demon-Slaughtering Palace. Wangji and SanRen had talked at length to the Wens and gotten permission to reside here. It had taken them so long because the Wens had all wanted to talk to the two of them. Tears hung heavy in both her eyes and Song Zichen’s. For all the Lan Wangji appeared untouched, there was grief covering his core like a shroud.
Xi Su and Xiao Xingcheng were sparring, but stopped as soon as the three of them emerged and the entirety of the BoaShan group bowed, waiting for SanRen’s decree.
“The Wens have graciously allowed us to live here,” she informed them, voice dancing over the wind. “They will teach us best they know to keep the corpses at bay. Tell the others to join us, we will start construction immediately. No one is allowed in the Demon-Slaughtering Palace until I say so.” Daoren’s presence had not abated nor grown stronger and SanRen wanted to deal with that at her own pace. Her heart was heavy with grief, if her son did not recognize her, she didn’t know how she’d bear it. A-Yuan tottered over to them, obviously eager to see Lan Wangji. He clung to his legs and Lan Wangji gave him a fond look. There was a story there, and SanRen would extract it, later. She didn’t know why Lan Wangji had intended to give up the child he so obviously adored as his own, but she would bet it was not a happy story. Most were not.
Several of her cultivators had taken off on their swords towards Yiling. Those that were left were clearing the area, separating usable materials from non-usable and drafting plans for houses. Since they had intended to settle a new Sect, they’d departed with materials. Should they need more, though, SanRen had money to buy more and she could also talk to the spirits of the mountain about gathering some more. First, though, the lotus pond.
“Grandson,” SanRen addressed Yuan, kneeling beside him, “would you like to help me fix the lotuses? They were your father’s favorite.” Such delicate flowers to bloom in the Burial Mound of all places, but apparently doing the impossible was what Wei Wuxian had done best. Yuan looked between her and Lan Wangji before nodding and walking over to her. She took his hand and led him to the lotus pond. It was thick with mud and most of the lotuses were rotten. “First,” she informed Yuan as she removed her shoes and stepped into the muck, “you must remove the old.” She pulled on a rotten lotus stem, removing it. And then she places it over the side. “Can you do that?” Yuan nodded fiercely, grabbed another one and pulled hard. It snapped in half. SanRen smiled at him and removed the rest of the plant. Then, to SanRen’s surprise, Lan Wangji removed his own shoes and joined her in the pond. The three of them worked together, Lan Wangji was silent, but slowly SanRen teases absolutely adorable giggles out of her great-grandson and she hoped that the other children would like him.
The first shelters built were just tents, layered thick with protective charms so that even if the place was overrun with high level monsters, whatever was in the tents would be safe. The largest of these tents was the mess tent. SanRen and her disciples prided themselves on their food and mealtimes were always a time for family. By the time the lotus pond was done, reseeded with whatever she, Wangji, and Yuan could rescue from the rotten stems, the mess tent was up and an absolutely delicious smell was wafting from it.
SanRen had located a washtub and some sand and water for Wangji to clean the mud off his own feet, but Sanren had just tucked her shoes into a quarken pouch and gone barefoot, to the delight of Yuan. While Wangji was cleaning his feet, SanRen washed hers and Yuan’s hands in preparation for the meal.
Fare was simple- rice, hard crackers, dried meats, and whatever vegetables had been pulled before they’d left their other home. Hot tea was plenty, as was alcohol, though SanRen turned all offers of a drink down. Instead, she stacked her plate with the spiciest of the dried meats and found an open sitting spot. She took pity on the wide eyed look of Wangji and cleared a spot next to herself for him and A-Yuan. Xingchen and Zichen were across the tent. Xingchen was once again scuffling with his martial sister while Zichen looked on with bemusement and SanRen had to smile at it- Xi Su would never admit to having missed her elder martial brother, but they were the last of their group. Daoren and the younger SanRen had been raised with them as siblings, having all come to her at the same time.
She could’ve happily passed the meal in silence, watching her sect being lively around her, but Lan Wangji was quite the distraction, as was her newest family member. “What was my grandson to you, Lan Wangji?” She asked in between bites.
Lan Wangji did not answer and she might’ve thought it rude if not for A-Yuan, who piped up, “We do not speak during meals, Grandmother BoaShan.”
Ah, she did remember something about that in the Lan Sect rules… It’d been a while though. “Do you follow all the rules on the wall, A-Yuan?” She asked him, since he had broken the rule about speaking during mealtime.
A-Yuan nodded then shook his head. “I try, but there’s a lot.”
“Silence.” Lan Wangji rebuked A-Yuan gently. A-Yuan pouted but went back to eating.
The two of them were so endearing. “I’m sorry for making you break decorum, Master Lan and Young Master Wei. I was always so bad at following the Lan rules, that’s why Lan Yi always said she couldn’t take my anywhere. At least Lan Xifeng didn’t care as much, mostly because in those days, they didn’t have the wall of rules yet. I can just imagine Lan An’s face if he saw people taking it seriously.” For all that Lan An had been a monk, he had been completely taken by his wife, Lan Xifeng, whose view of rules was largely that their existence bore her.
Then she watched as all of Lan Wangji’s food disappeared. She was willing to bet that was the fastest the Lan had ever eaten. She remembered Lan Yi doing something similar when she had desperate questions and SanRen was teasing her over a meal. SanRen took her time eating, she didn’t have any rules about not talking while eating, as shown by the raucous disciples around them. SanRen’s disciples could be considered many things, but she would laugh at anyone who called them quiet.
Once Lan Wangji had finished, he turned to her. “You knew Lan An?”
Of the three she’d mentioned, he’d of course focused on the one she knew least. Oh, they’d certainly still be close but it was his wife that she’d been sworn sisters with. “Yes,” she told him frankly, “I was sworn sisters with his wife, Lan Xifeng. We went nighthunting at once a month except when she was pregnant.” And then she’d died on a nighthunt that wasn’t with SanRen. Her husband took his own life shortly thereafter, unable to live without her and that was the first time SanRen had seriously considered retreating to a mountain and never coming down. Instead she’d drunk the last Emperor’s Smile made by Lan An’s hand and stayed around the Lans, ensuring they knew how to properly play their guqin. She’d had stayed all the way until Lan Yi.
“Lan Yi?” He queried quietly and SanRen smiled bitterly.
Ah, the ones you love cause you the most pain. “We were close.” SanRen admitted. “Our guqins are sisters, carved from the same tree and strung with the same silk. When the Yin Iron awoke, I left.” Lan Yi had chosen power, taking the last of SanRen’s weak heart with her.
Strangely, Lan Wangji bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Master BaoShan. The last of Lan Yi’s spiritual cognition faded when the Yin Iron was removed from the Back Hills.”
SanRen’s heart stopped. Lan Yi had attempted to purify the Yin Iron, hadn’t she? SanRen’s thoughts were a mess and she calmed them swiftly. “Could you tell me more?” She was glad she wasn’t holding anything delicate when she got this news. Her strength was enough to strangle a man, porcelain tended to fail quicker then windpipes.
“Wei Ying and I encountered Lan Yi by accident in the Back Hills,” Lan Wangji informed her quietly, holding A-Yuan close. “Her Chord Assassination trick nearly killed Wei Ying until I bound our hands with my ribbon.” SanRen had been separated for the world for a couple hundred years, but the ribbon had been brought to the Lan clan by Lan An (and by extension Lan Xifeng, since it was Xifeng’s ribbon An had insisted on wearing)- to bind two wrists together was a declaration of marriage intent. It meant both partners had chosen each other over the Clan and if they were to be cast out from the Lan Clan for it, then so be it. She did not think Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji had completed their three bows, but the man she was sitting next to was, by Lan standards, her grandson-in-law. No wonder he loathed to be parted from Wei Yuan!
“We were able to approach the guqin in the Cold Pond Cave then and Lan Yi appeared to us. She told us of her original intent to purify the Yin Iron and her failure, so she then sealed herself in Cold Pond Cave to continuously suppress it. After all these years though, she was fading so she requested Wei Ying and I take charge of it. She had mentioned your name, so Wei Ying declared himself her martial second nephew.” More like martial grandson, though they’d never bound their hands like Wei Ying and Lan Wangji had. “She also said that...I had made a good choice and she hoped I would not repeat her mistakes.”
Of course any grandchild of SanRen’s would be a good choice! Though what mistakes had Lan Yi meant? She couldn’t have meant SanRen, could she? “Did you take your three bows?” Best to get that question out of the way. Going by Lan Wangji’s wide eyes, she wasn’t supposed to know what the binding of hands meant and she nearly shook her head. Children these days. He shook his head, though and SanRen nodded in reply. “Either way I would have welcomed you as Wei Wuxian’s chosen husband and, one can presume, another father to A-Yuan?” Another nod. “Then the BoaShan Sect welcomes you, Master Lan, and bids you stay as long as you like. You and A-Yuan will always be considered kin to us, whether you chose to return to Cloud Recesses or not.”
“Will stay, for now.” Lan Wangji assured her. “Wei Ying and I are not married.”
SanRen patted his arm. “Maybe the next cycle of reincarnation will be gentler with you both.” Yuan looked up from his father’s lap to her face with confusion and she smiled down at the child. Such grief she hoped he would be spared from. “As it is, I must go to Cloud Recesses and see I can visit the Back Hills. Lan Yi deserves my last respects. You can stay here or come with me.”
“A-Yuan and I will accompany you. I must tell Uncle my choice.” His core was overwhelmed with such fondness SanRen had to wonder how he’d even contemplated separating from his son in the first place. Was it that dangerous to be Wei Wuxian’s child that a father could bear to be parted with him for his protection? She would never force someone to choose between their child and protection.
“Very well, I’ll begin drafting a letter.” Surprising the Lans probably wouldn’t go over well no matter how much fun SanRen would have with it. She did need to be able to leave without fighting the whole sect after all. “A-Xing will let me borrow one of his birds, I believe. Tell me, who is the Sect Leader now?”
“Lan Xichen, my brother.” Lan Wangji’s voice did not waver, but several strings connected themselves in SanRen’s mind. Fate had been quite cruel to Lan Wangji, hadn’t it?
“Would you prefer to write the letter then?” Her question was light and Lan Wangji shook his head. She had presumed as much, but it was always better to verify. “Thank you, Master Lan, for everything.” He inclined his head silently to her and for a second she could see so much of Lan Xifeng in him. SanRen stayed beside him and ate, waiting until A-Yuan was done, at which point she rose and found them a tent to settle in. Many of the other families with young children where there, so A-Yuan would not be lonely.
Then she sat down, wrote a letter, sealed it, and found Xingchen to ask after his falcons only to find out they were Song Zichen’s birds. Thankfully, Zichen accepted the letter from Xingchen’s hands and gave it to one of his birds, telling him where to fly.
One of the perks of true immortality was that one didn’t need to sleep, so she shooed Xingchen and Zichen to a private tent (Xingchen had told her how Zichen didn’t like to be touched, it was the least she could do for her son’s cultivation partner) and went to the Demon-Slaughtering Palace, bringing her guqin with her.
In the end, it would be nearly two months before she would head for Cloud Recesses. When she went, she took with her Xi Su, Xiao Xingchen, Song Zichen, Lan Wangji, and Wei Yuan. Xi Su was her principle disciple (along with adopted daughter), so she stood to SanRen’s right with Lan Wangji, Yuan in arms, behind her. Xiao Xingchen was to her left with Song Zichen behind him. It looked, on the surface, like a perfectly normal Sect arrangement that walked up to the gates of Cloud Recesses. The guards were expecting her and let them all in, hiding their looks towards Lan Wangji poorly. SanRen took a lot of delight in that. It had taken a few discussions between Lan Wangji and the seamstresses of the BoaShan Sect to come up with something Lan Wangji would wear that wasn’t a version of the Lan Sect robes. It was still white, though, and BoaShan could understand that, he wasn’t ready to stop grieving yet. There were red star embellishments visible on the white. They matched the color of little A-Yuan’s robes and declared he was a member of the BaoShan Sect, who all wore the stars. In fact, Lan Wangji’s clothes were a near perfect match for Xiao Xingchen, though his stars were black. All the others wore nearly identical outfits: grey and black robes with golden stars, though Zichen had gone with silver stars and SanRen hadn’t rolled her eyes at how obvious the two were.
The procession made their way up the mountain, to the heart of Cloud Recesses where they were greeted by a man who looked so much like Lan Wangji that SanRen would have to be a fool not to recognize.
“Sect Leader BaoShan SanRen.” Lan Xichen greeted her formally with a bow.
“Sect Leader Lan Xichen.” She returned the bow.
“Please, come inside Master BoaShan.” Lan Xichen rose from his bow and gestured towards the rooms behind him. “All your disciples are welcomed.” He had obviously spotted his brother in the small crowd around SanRen, yet he had not called out for him. Such control was either admirable or spoke of more bad things for Lan Wangji. Desperately, she hoped it wasn’t the later even as she entered. There was a low table set for tea- enough cushions for everyone, even if A-Yuan decided not to sit in his father’s lap. SanRen sat at one end of the table and everyone sat with her, keeping the same order they’d walked in. Song Zichen left the extra pillow beside him to give some distance between himself and the Lan Sect Leader, while Lan Wangji put A-Yuan between himself and Xi Su, so he was sitting closest to Lan Xichen. Which made SanRen relax somewhat. Whatever had made Wangji nervous about joining them today was not his brother, then.
Lan Xichen took his seat and smiled serenely at them all as tea was poured. He waited until the ritual was complete before taking his cup. “The Sect Elders and I have discussed the propositions put forth in your letter. You are more than welcome to explore the Back Hills and pay respects to our ancestors in the family temple.”
“There is one more proposition I did not put in my letter,” SanRen replied sipping her tea. “And I fear it may be more difficult for you to hear then my other two requests.”
Lan Xichen bowed his head to her. “You do not need to speak it, Master BaoShan. I know my brother’s heart. If it is acceptable to you, I would like to discuss that proposition another time between you, my brother, and myself alone.”
That was agreeable. “Thank you kindly, Sect Leader Lan.” So far it was going quite well, she thought. Though she had yet to see the Uncle that Lan Wangji had mentioned needing to explain himself too.
When tea was done, she rose from her cushion. Lan Wangji turned to Lan Xichen. “Brother, she will need a headband so she can enter Cold Pond Cave.”
Lan Xichen nodded. “Yes, we have had one made for Master BoaShan for such an occasion.”
BoaShan SanRen was quite surprised but shook her head. “Thank you kindly, Sect Leader Lan, but it will not be necessary.”
Now Xichen looked worried. “Anyone not wearing them when they enter Cold Pond Cave will be attacked with the Chord Assassination Techinique. If you do not wear one, you will have to fend off the attack continuously.”
BoaShan SanRen inclined her head. “You can take the ribbon and come with me, Sect Leader Lan, so you can see for yourself. I am quite familiar with Lan Yi and I believe what stops her from attacking is not your ribbon.”
There was a surprising look passed between brothers, but Lan Xichen stood. “I will accompany you then.” He bowed to those still sitting. “Please, enjoy our hospitality. These rooms are for your use, if you want for anything, please ask any Lans around and it will be given to you.”
Xi Su rose and bowed back. “We members of the BaoShan Sect do gratefully accept Sect Leader Lan’s hospitality. May good fortune shine on your house.” With a smile, Xichen swept out of the room alongside SanRen.
“Now that the formalities are done,” SanRen said to Xichen, “you can simply call me SanRen.”
Xichen favored her with another smile, “And you may call me Xichen, SanRen.”
“Very well, Xichen, please lead the way. It’s been a couple hundred years since I’ve walked these paths.” She gestured forward. If she tried, she could perhaps navigate them, but it would recall memories she would prefer to keep buried.
“How well did you know Lan Yi?” Xichen queries as he takes the lead. While the brothers may look alike, SanRen feels like their souls are quite different.
“Very well.” SanRen replies as she steps in time with him. “And sometimes it seemed like not at all. We met the day she became Sect Leader, I had attended her father’s inauguration as well, as a request of Lan Xifeng who wanted to ensure I approved of the Lan Sect Leaders. She requested I stay by her side for many were mad that she dare become Sect Head, so I did. She had my approval, which stopped most dissents but not all. Those who dared rise up against her she cut down.” Here, SanRen gave a little laugh. “After she created the Chord Assassination Technique, I gifted her a guqin. It was a sister to mine and her grandmother’s. Xuehua served her well from what I heard.” It hurt to talk about, but Xichen had asked. She had nothing to hide.
Xichen let the silence stretch pleasantly, mulling over SanRen’s words. “By your words, Lan Xifeng is the wife of Lan An, correct?”
The question put a shard of worry into her heart. “Yes. Do your records of ancestors not tell you as much?”
Here, Lan Xichen grimaced. “Many had been destroyed over the years, despite the Lan Clans best efforts.”
“Cloud Recesses has been burned.” It wasn’t a question. Who had dared to burn the sacred home of the Lans?
Xichen inclined his head and answered her unasked questions. “The Wens burned it.”
SanRen was sure Wen Mao and Wen Xu Chu were turning in their graves to know what had happened to their descendants. To think that Lan An and Lan Xifeng’s closest friends’ children had done this… The world had really changed in the thousand years she’s been gone. “I am sorry for you loss.”
Xichen inclined his head in gratitude. “But even before that, there were no records of Lan Xifeng. It was not an appropriate question to ask over letter, but you mentioned the name specifically, so I assumed they must have been important to you.”
SanRen smiled and nodded. “Yes, we were sworn sisters. Her father had consulted all the oracles in the land to find the perfect match for his favored daughter and everyone said we were born under all the right stars to be best of friends. I, of course, was nobody and she was Lan Xifeng, second daughter to the most powerful man in the region. He prefered Nie Yun, Ehmeh’s sworn sister. Well, right up until she married her husband. He didn’t like the idea of his daughters knowing a butcher.” The look of pure shock and horror when he’d found out who his eldest daughter’s sworn sister had married had been priceless. “If Lan An found out the clan that bears Xifeng’s name had forgotten her, he’d be livid.” When An was angry, nearly all the sects trembled simply because An didn’t get angry. He always presented a serene face and was excellent at calming even the worst wrath. It’d been him who’d written the Soul Calming melody after all.
Xichen was shaken to his core with every word that SanRen said. There were so many questions he wanted to ask, but there wasn’t time. “Your memory is impeccable for a thousand years having gone by.”
“They were my friends, Xichen, I grew up beside them.” It was a glib answer and SanRen knew Xichen didn’t deserve that. “There are prices to immortality,” she said this slower, “that can become like curses over time. Were I a normal mortal, my memory would’ve long faded and my body with them.” She would’ve been buried among her friends, the last bottle of Emperor’s Smile by Lan An’s hand in her arms. She would’ve entered the wheel of reincarnation with them, possibly to reborn again unknowing of the tragedy in her former life. She never would’ve met Lan Yi though, or perhaps they would’ve met again in a better life…Lingering over such things brought more grief though, so she pushed all the memories out of her head.
Xichen gave her a soft look that had SanRen aching to see Jin Ehmeh again, to be teased by her about being the second best swordsmen of their generation. “You’re one of the few to every cultivate to immortality, so-”
SanRen held up her hand. “Xichen, every one of my contemporaries cultivated to immortality. But they were struck down before they ascended from bodily immortality. Most of us did it before we hit 30. We didn’t know anything beyond the power brimming in our cores and spilling out. Jiang Chao learned how to cultivate growth , he tended to and grew Lotus Pier with his wife, Jiang Ruhar, as the architect. They were so powerful they diverted a river and damned it so they’d have the perfect spot to start their sect. Ruhar got sick with something even Chao couldn’t cure and they died exhausting their cores trying to cure her.” They’d been the first of the Immortal Generation, as they called themselves, to die. It’d started the tradition of burying the yet unnamed Emperor’s Smile with them.
“Jin Xing was so grieved by his friends’ deaths that Ehmeh came to Cloud Recesses to plead with her sister and brother-in-law to save her husband from himself. It didn’t work and Jin Xing died from grief.” It had been, however, the reason Emperor’s Smile got its name. For Jin Xing had been called the Golden Emperor and after his death, Ehmeh had said that Lan An’s alcohol had a taste that reminded her of her husband’s smile. He’d named it after Jin Xing to honor him and Ehmeh. “Without her husband beside her, Ehmeh had gotten more and more reckless and died fighting one of the four Unholy Beasts.” Lan Xichen’s face was pale, these were obviously not the stories told of the founders of the sects.
“Wen Xu Chu was a smart woman, she learned to cultivate without a sword as well. She cultivated with her body. I’ve never known anyone else to cultivate like her.” Though SanRen herself could mimic some of Xu Chu’s moves these days. “She could punch ghosts and fierce corpses, ending them more effectively than any blade. Wen Mao was her wife-”
Lan Xichen had stopped walking at that. “Wen Mao was a man.” He didn’t sound sure of himself though and SanRen snorted.
“She’d kill someone if she heard that, assuming Chu didn’t get to you first. She might have been built like a man in all ways, but everyone knew she was Madame Wen, Favored First Daughter of the Sun.” At the time, they’d laughed at how pretentious a name that’d been given to her, but it fit. “She cultivated by fire and both achieved immortality shortly after their first son was born.” The two Wens had been so happy together… “Nightless City lies near an active volcano. For three days and three nights Wen Mao and Wen Xu Chu contained its fury and bound it to their own wills, so that it would protect the future home of their children. In doing so, they burned the cores out of themselves. They survived, but without their cores they died of old age.” Her voice was thick with grief and rage. How much had this world slighted their ancestors with false stories and incorrect ideas about who they were?
“The Nies outlived all of them, but even they died. Nie Murha qi deviated and Nie Yun stopped him from killing their great-grandchildren by throwing herself in front of his blade.” Lan Yi had taken her place as leader of the Lans only a month after that.
SanRen was shaking with rage, but she forced her core to be calm. It wasn’t Xichen or the Lan’s fault history got it wrong, destroying Cloud Recesses would be a great offense to Lan Xifeng and the last thing she wanted was to once more step on the grave of her sworn sister. Falling for her granddaughter was enough of an insult to the woman she’d loved as a sister. “Immortality is a curse, Xichen, especially when you can drive a sword through your heart and live.” Lan An’s own immortality hadn’t been as far along as SanRen’s had, so his sword had done its job and he’d joined his beloved wife in the reincarnation cycle, leaving SanRen all alone in the end.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Master BaoShan,” Xichen said with a bow and SanRen wondered how she had to look to get that response. Like a sad and broken woman, she imagined. “I did not know, so the folly of my tongue lies in myself.”
Far too much like Ehmeh, but SanRen thought it was just the memories brought to the surface now that she was back among those who could die. “My grief is over a thousand years old and still as fresh as the day I first encountered it. The fault does not lie with you, Xichen. Just let me see my old friend and I’ll be out of your way.”
Here, Xichen gave a sheepish smile and gestured to the stone wall behind him. “We have been at the entrance for a while, but I dared not stop you. I have learned that grief is not something that can be stoppered, as much as we might wish it.”
There was truth to his words, but SanRen has been immortal far longer then she’s been mortal. She’d lived with her grief long enough to be old acquaintances with it, so why was it bothering her now? Perhaps it was the recent loss of her martial grandson and finding her adopted son’s soul trapped in grief inside a mountain. “Come now, Xichen, let’s see if Lan Yi will keep her word and kill me the next time she sees me.” Xichen’s eyes widened as SanRen stepped through the mountain, but he quickly followed.
The freezing water immediately soaked through her shoes, socks, and lower garments, but SanRen paid no mind to the discomforts of the flesh. Her eyes were fixed on the pure white guqin laid out on the rock. “Xuehua…” She breathed out, stepping towards it swiftly. The strings of the guqin did not sound, as SanRen suspected they wouldn’t. Lan Yi was quite protective of her people, but she’d killed enough Lans to not tie her attack to the ribbons around their head. She hadn’t recognized Wei Wuxian though and thought him an interloper until Lan Wangji had declared him a Lan by marriage.
SanRen settled into the seat carved from ice right in front of the guqin. Xichen stood some distance away, looking awkward in his blue finery and bunnies dancing around his feet. In another circumstance, SanRen might’ve smiled knowing that the bunnies Lan An had given to his wife were flourishing, but today had been a long day. She closed her eyes and focused, trying to catch the same hints of a soul like that Dioren had left in the Burial Mound. All there was were traces of a golden core in the guqin, the remnants of a first class spiritual weapon that had lost its master. Just to be sure, SanRen adjusted herself and began to play Inquiry, requesting Lan Yi.
There was no answer.