Work Text:
Zhu Mei threads her needle through her newest embroidery project, settled at a wonderful little table in her favorite courtyard, the perfect picture of an obedient, unobtrusive wife for any young lord. Her entire life up until this point, apart from the training she’d received as a cultivator, had been in preparation for her to fill this eventual and integral role.
So if her favorite courtyard also happened to be the main courtyard, and if she just so happened to be found there at the times when her husband came and went from their manor, well, then it was really all just coincidence.
The sun is always best at those times of day, anyway.
This morning is a particularly pleasant example of spring, a light breeze brings forth peach petals from the tree Zhu Mei is seated under. It would be a perfect morning, truly, if it weren’t for--
“For the last time , Wen Zhuliu, your services won’t be needed today! I don’t care what you do--do whatever you like, it doesn’t matter to me--BUT I’m telling you that your presence isn’t necessary , do you hear me?” Wen Chao, Zhu Mei’s lord husband. His whine of a voice ruins the illusion of the quintessential spring morning scenery, as it often ruins things. It’s unfortunate that he must think he sounds commanding--it would be endearing if he weren’t so annoying--but, well, as far as husbands go he could be more troublesome.
For one, he’s rarely at home these days (or ever, if Zhu Mei is truthful with herself)--and while that might be an issue to some wives, it suits Zhu Mei just fine to have her run of their fine manor in Qishan. For another thing, he doesn’t have any illusions about loving her, or her loving him, or whatever else nonsense people in arranged marriages tend to lie to themselves with. She keeps her dalliances discreet, of course--but she can’t say the same for her husband. She supposes that it would be too much to expect from previous sect leader Wen Ruohan’s empty headed second son.
Subtle is not a word Wen Chao knows the meaning of.
But what is it that he’s prattling on about now? She could use some entertainment. He owes her that much at least for having to be married to him.
“...Young Master,” Wen Zhuliu’s voice can barely be heard from Zhu Mei’s position in the courtyard, but judging from the echoes of multiple footsteps, that won’t be a problem for much longer. “..I do not think that is wise.” The sheer amount of exhaustion in his voice could probably crush a mountain flat with its weight.
Zhu Mei spares a moment of pity for Wen Zhuliu. Poor Huadan Shou, his suffering at the hands of Wen Chao’s cretinous personality is nearly as vast as Zhu Mei’s indifference. She sets aside her embroidery for a moment, the white chrysanthemums she’d been stitching onto a red belt look like cheery little snowdrops.
Wang Lingjiao--Zhu Mei’s maid, and… closest companion-- notes her change in attention and shifts from where she’s sitting on her right. “More tea, my lady?”
Zhu Mei’s red painted lips twitch in the barest hint of a smile. “Yes please, Jiaojiao. Pour yourself a fresh cup too, I have the distinct feeling that we’re going to need refreshments in a moment.”
When her husband and his ever present entourage come into view, it’s clear that Zhu Mei was right--she is so very rarely wrong, after all. It’s not surprising.
Wen Chao comes around the corner first in all of his red-white-and-gold vainglory, and shockingly less greasy than usual, something for which he--and everyone else in Qishan--can thank his… more recent “subordinates” for.
On his right, none other than Jin Zixun keeps pace with Wen Chao. His smug aura is strong enough to reach even the private corner where Zhu Mei is seated. Or perhaps it’s the heavy handed peony-and-rose perfume that he’s applied to himself like he’s afraid someone might not be able to tell from his gaudy golden robes and vermillion mark exactly what clan he’s a direct descendant of, or to what sect he belongs. He’s conspicuously close to Wen Chao, but that is nothing new. After the most recent archery competition where they both participated--an honest shock for Zhu Mei, who wouldn’t have guessed that Sect Leader Wen Qing would allow Wen Chao to embarrass the sect with his inability to perform--they seemed to have struck up an odd… and very close relationship.
“Young Master Wen will be well taken care of,” He says, and everyone in the courtyard would either need to be completely oblivious or simply not have eyes to not notice the way he wraps an arm around Wen Chao’s waist. “He’s in good hands, after all. Isn’t that right, Minshan?”
Su Minshan to Wen Chao’s left lets out a nearly-dignified sigh, as if agreeing with Jin Zixun will rob him of the last of whatever scraps of dignity and honor he thinks he still has left. Zhu Mei thinks she hears something like “It’s Su-xiong in public!” but given the wind in the trees and the sound of songbirds above her, she couldn’t be completely sure.
“Of course Jin-xiong is right.” He pauses as if he wants to say more on the matter but has thought better of it, and schools his face into something he must think looks sophisticated.
“Of course I’m right.” Jin Zixun nods, and no one comments on the fact that he’s pulled Wen Chao nearly flush against his side. Wen Chao certainly doesn’t seem to have a problem with it, nearly preening from the attention. The little cretin waves a dismissive hand in Wen Zhuliu’s direction. It certainly was very kind of Sect Leader Wen to leave Wen Chao in Wen Zhuliu’s care--whether as an acquiescence to not completely shattering the status quo just yet, or as a specific punishment for Wen Zhuliu himself, Zhu Mei does not know--but with the way things are turning out, little Chao might not be in need of his services for much longer... having found himself a pair of new, more interesting keepers.
“So--there, see? I’ll be perfectly fine, so I’m ordering you to stay behind and, uh….” Zhu Mei watches her lord husband’s tiny brain work itself into knots as he desperately tries to come up with something, until his eyes land on her and Wang Lingjiao.
“...Guard my wife! And her maid, of course.”
The weight of all of their gazes settles over Zhu Mei, who takes a delicate sip of tea and simply stares back at them, unflinching. “Certainly, this wife is most appreciative of her lord husband’s thoughtfulness.” She takes out her fan and uses it to hide the smirk that’s starting to bloom on her lips.
Wen Chao makes a gesture at her like she’s completely proven his point and not just mocked him openly in front of their servants, a sect leader, and the first cousin to another future sect leader. “There, so! Follow my orders, or else!”
He stomps his stupid little foot in finality, and it takes all of Zhu Mei’s years worth of careful training in the art of etiquette to not flat out laugh at him for it. Or else, what? He’ll pitch a fit to his older brother, who in turn will grudgingly pass it along to Sect Leader Wen, who certainly has bigger fish to fry than her annoyance of a cousin having a tantrum?
Truly, what a threat indeed. No one says anything to contradict his authority though--it’s just simply not worth the headache.
Wen Zhuliu looks like he’s been slowly but surely dying inside throughout this entire exchange, and honestly speaking, Zhu Mei cannot blame him. “Of course, young master.” He aquiseces with a bow proper for his station, and then Wen Chao and his two “Subordinates” are leaving the manor house.
The courtyard falls silent save for the birdsong and the rustle of branches overhead.
“Well,” Zhu Mei drawls, picking herself up and smiling when Wang Lingjiao plucks half a peach blossom’s worth of petals off of the bosom of her dress. “It appears our morning show is over. Let’s take this inside now, shall we?”
Wang Lingjiao is, of course, more than happy to follow her mistress inside with the promise of some quality, uninterrupted… alone time.
Wen Zhuliu covers his face briefly with his hands the moment the two women are out of sight, and lets himself contemplate on how all of his life’s choices have culminated into this. Eventually he heaves a great sigh and straightens himself up--he can feel it in his bones:
Today is going to be a long, long day.
As the name would suggest, Qishan Wen sect’s Nightless City is a metropolis that never sleeps. Even in the more tender hours of the morning many businesses remain open--shops, restaurants, bars, you name it and the Nightless City most likely has it available no matter what time of day or night.
Wen Chao and his entourage of two enter the scene a little past mid-day, the weather pleasant and mild. Given the time, the streets are not nearly half as crowded as they will be when the sun reaches its zenith and all the little people come out to eat and shop and gossip like a well oiled clockwork town.
Wen Chao takes a deep breath in of his city’s air and smiles--although anyone watching him would consider the expression more of a pleased looking grimace. What had started as the quintessential spring morning has begun to blossom into a gorgeous day, and that works absolutely perfectly with his plans to show his… Subordinates around The Nightless City’s peerless marketplace.
He puffs himself up with pride and casts a half look over one shoulder at Su She and Jin Zixun, just to be sure they’re still just slightly behind him as they walk.
“Anything you could possibly want to buy can be found in our markets,” He says, more than a little smug. “Everything and anything of the highest quality, at any time of day.”
He waits for them to be impressed, but all he gets is a small eyebrow raise from Su She to indicate that the new sect leader had in fact heard him, and a thoughtful hum from Jin Zixun.
“What?! What kind of reactions are those?? You should both be far more impressed by the wealth and might of Qishan Wen!” You should both be more impressed by me , he doesn’t say, but is what he means. A bright red blush starts to bloom hot and embarrassing on Wen Chao’s cheeks and neck at the lack of proper recognition.
“Don’t get so fussy,” Jin Zixun waves a hand in his direction, dismissive. “It’s just that I’m sure that anything we could find here, could also be found in Lanling for a better price is all.” He shrugs his shoulders and Wen Chao is momentarily distracted by how broad they are, and how his robes shift over them. Hm. Mhm. No! He’s supposed to be-- mad, damnit--
Su She clicks his tongue softly and rolls his eyes. “But at any time of day? That’s the main point of the Nightless City ’ s attraction, Jin-xiong.”
“Well if that’s the case, wouldn’t it be more novel to come here at night?” Jin Zixun cocks his head at Wen Chao like he hasn’t just dealt a devastating blow to his ego. Like that’s just a completely fine and normal thing to say to him!
“We’re busy at night!” Wen Chao hisses through his teeth, unfortunately loud enough for any of the multitude of passers-by to hear him. “ When would we have the time ?”
Su She shoots Wen Chao a pointed look for that--his colors rapidly changing to match Wen Chao’s own. “ You can’t say such shameless things! In public, no less!” He reaches out, fast as a viper, and pinches a certain place that may or may not be bruised under the collar of Wen Choa’s robe. He barely manages to swallow his yelp of pain before looking around for Wen Zhuliu--who he now remembers he left at home, damnitall--and when that fails him, he starts to search for Jin Zixun… Who he finds a good bit ahead and to the left of them, standing out front of one shop’s display.
“Zixun! What are you doing all the way over there?!” Wen Chao means to yell, but it comes out unfortunately more as a simpering sort of whine.
Jin Zixun seems to have stopped paying attention to them though-- his eye caught on a storefront selling blown glass objects. “These are interesting.” He gestures them over, and Wen Chao can’t help himself. He’s petty-- so what? It’s not like his companions are any better.
“What, can’t you find those in Lanling for less?” He sniffs. Su She sighs wearily, and Jin Zixun just huffs.
“Well of course I can. You can buy anything in Lanling for less if you know the right people.”
Su She sighs out through his nose so hard behind Wen Chao that, briefly, a passerby wonders if his soul has just escaped his mortal body. Unbothered, Jin Zixun crosses his arms over his chest, more than ready to argue his point.
Wen Chao screams behind closed lips, just a little bit, and then drags both of his subordinates into the shop to buy them both something expensive, irreplaceable, and completely unique .
Just because he’s not in the direct line of succession to be Sect Leader doesn’t mean his allowance has dwindled by much! He’ll show them! Even under new management, Qishan Wen is nothing to scoff at!!
An entire day and half a night spent shopping in the markets of the Nightless City culminates in Wen Chao’s chambers-- not an unusual nor an unexpected end to a day for the three of them.
“And then, he said, and can you believe the nerve--” Su She pauses only long enough to drain his cup, face flushed from the alcohol that Jin Zixun had insisted they bring out for a ‘proper night in’. Although a Lan he most certainly is not and will never be, Su She still grew up under the Cloud Recesses’ monastic rules, and is still a rather unfortunate lightweight despite the now numerous occasions that both Wen Chao and Jin Zixun have coaxed him into drinking.
“They keep saying-- you know, and I do take offense, because not everything is about the Gusu Lan sect, and I left years ago now, it’s just so…” He gestures with his empty cup towards Jin Zixun, who he’s half slumped against, nearly tucked under the larger man’s arm. “...You know?”
Su She upends his cup and is muzzily trying to figure out why nothing seems to happen. “Oh, hm.” A crease makes an appearance between his brows as he brings the cup up closer to his face to study it. “I didn’t think.. I’d drunk it that fast?”
Jin Zixun chuckles. “You should slow down,” He reaches out to take Su She’s cup--it leaves his fingers without much of a fight. “That’s what, only your third? Can’t have you passing out on us just yet.”
“Yeah.” Wen Chao pipes up from where his head is pillowed on Jin Zixun’s thigh, the rest of his body in a half curl behind the man in question. He’s only loosely dressed in his inner robe as he’d decided that dressing fully after Su She and Jin Zixun forced him into a bath was firstly, too much work after a long day on his feet, and secondly, unnecessary with his current company. He pulls himself nearly into Jin Zixun’s lap (and almost unties his sash in the process) to pat Su She’s thigh. “Fuck the Gusu Lan sect though, those stuck up bastards. Anybody who can’t see that your Moling Su sect clearly has nothing to do with those haughty pricks isn’t worth your time.”
Su She mulls that over for a moment or two-- it’s easy to forget that while the Wen’s previous second young master isn’t much of a cultivator, he does seem to have a talent in… Well perhaps not with his tongue, per-say, but with… flattery? Is that something one could even consider a skill? Especially if it’s not one that many actually see Wen Chao employ.
And--anyway--it’s not really flattery if it’s entirely correct.
“Right.” Su She nods to himself. “Of course.”
Jin Zixun takes a drink from his own cup, uncharacteristically thoughtful. “If whispers behind your back bother you so much Minshan, you shouldn’t visit Koi Tower so often.” He jostles Su She a little bit with one arm.
Su She pouts--and if he were any more sober he wouldn’t be caught dead doing so. Thankfully, he is currently not even in the same province as sober. “They do not .” He gets another pat to the thigh for his efforts from Wen Chao, and a little squeeze around the waist in consolation from Jin Zixun.
“Sure they don’t. And anyway, with my cousin as sect leader, it’s not like they’re as loud as they used to be.” Jin Zixun grew up in that sort of environment after all-- of course the difference would be more striking to him than anyone else. It perplexes him, just how much and how quickly Jin Zixuan has changed from the boy he grew up with to the man he is now.
It’s not a secret that he blames that Jiang woman for it, but given that he doesn’t particularly want to end up as a social outcast in his own sect--which he’s seen happen enough times to the people who dare disrespect the young Madam Jin--he tends to keep his mouth shut about it…. Mostly. But there’s no real need to here, right?
“I still don’t understand what he sees in her.” He grumbles into his cup, heavy brows furrowed. “What’s so great about a so-so beauty who barely even has a golden core?” His cousin could have had any number of great and talented--not to mention absolutely gorgeous--young women, and had even managed to get out of that ridiculous farce of a betrothal.. And yet he still settled on Jiang Yanli for--what, exactly? Because she made good soup? It boggles the mind.
Or, perhaps, it simply just boggles Jin Zixun’s mind.
(He will not say this, but the second that Jin Zixuan had chosen to pursue and marry Jiang Yanli marked the day that he had changed for good. Slowly but surely his cousin had started to grow away from him, to walk a completely separate path from the one they had set out on together. At the very least Zixuan seems happy, but never has his cousin felt so inaccessible or far away from him.
Zixun hates it, hates the weird grating distance between them--but it’s not as if he was ever taught to communicate effectively beyond throwing his weight around where he could and blatant flattery where he couldn’t… So it’s not a particular wonder that in the event of Jin Zixuan’s personal growth, Jin Zixun is left to the wayside.)
“Well, since she gave him an heir, does it really matter? Lanling Jin sect won’t lose any face over that.” Wen Chao, still half in Jin Zixun’s lap, uses his position to lean forward and pour himself a drink from the spread of wine and snacks the servants had brought in while they were busy getting him into the bath.
(Nobody would call it a labor of love, making Wen Chao presentable that is, because that would imply that there would have to be someone who felt that much for him. At the very least-- Jin Zixun and Su She’s efforts to degrease Wen Chao are a labor of…. Self serving sacrifice. Afterall, they were the ones who had to be seen in public with him, weren’t they?)
Su She makes a noncommittal sound and absently pops a handful of peanuts into his mouth, as he’s not especially interested in a conversation that has little to nothing to do with him. Jin Zixun shrugs, brusque, his expression unreadable beyond being distantly frustrated. The trio fall into an uncommon lull in their conversation.
The ensuing near silence has a near palpable effect on Wen Chao, whose nerves seem to heighten with every second of quietude that passes. He’s sweating again--Jin Zixun, the more sober of them between himself and Su She, inwardly resigns himself to making sure someone wipes Wen Chao down before they go to sleep, and he’ll be damned if it’s him --and fidgets in his spot until he’s both completely wriggled into Jin Zixun’s lap and drained his cup dry.
“This is boring ,” Wen Chao, unlike Su She, pouts without reservation. Possibly having the thickest face in all of China helps him with this. Just as possibly it could also come from being the spoiled baby and favored son of the previously all powerful Wen Ruohan. Not that it mattered much now, with Wen Ruohan dead and Wen Xu having abdicated most of his rule to one Wen Qing.
“I’m bored .” He bites his lip, wriggling around in Jin Zixun’s lap like he can’t get comfortable. He would be the picture of a petulant toddler if it weren’t for the fact that he looks more upset than frustrated. “Minshan-- didn’t you say you’d recite some poetry earlier? Let’s hear it, huh?” Wen Chao situates himself so that he’s lying stomach down in Jin Zixun’s lap, but his arms rest, folded up, on Su She’s nearest thigh.
(He’s never been good with silence--especially tense ones. There’s something about them that make him think of his--...)
The sect leader in question positively lights up at the prodding. Afterall, what good was his fancy Gusu Lan education if he didn’t get the chance to show off his scholarly knowledge every now and then?
“Of course! Now, let’s see, what would be the best to start with…”
Jin Zixun bites back a laugh and pours himself another cup of wine, and, against his better judgement, another one for Su She too. This can only benefit his one man poetry recital-- considering the fact that once Su She gets started, he’s rather not inclined towards stopping , and if either Wen Chao or Jin Zixun want to sleep at all tonight, well, they’re going to have to be prepared to knock their companion out.
The three of them settle in for what’s now certainly going to be a long, long night.
Months later
At the next discussion conference held in the beautiful Lotus Pier, it’s the height of summer, and humid as all hell even under the deep purble-black cover of night. Any longtime resident of Yunmeng would blame it on the presence of hundreds of cultivators, but any visitor would be sure to think that summers in Yunmeng are simply this oppressive.
No matter the reason, the heat gives every attendee ample reason to drink. And where there is liquor to drink in Lotus Pier, there is inevitably Wei Wuxian.
Currently, the aforementioned Wei Wuxian is fanning himself with a hand--sitting at the edge of one more or less secluded dock, pant legs rolled up and feet dangling in the water--while his soon to be husband, one Lan Wangji, diligently offers him bites of cool watermelon. Where he had gotten it is a mystery that literally no one could begin to care about.
For once, Wei Wuxian’s attention isn’t on Lan Wangji, or his curiously procured melon.
He’s fixated on something in the distance, several docks over. He blows a stray lock of hair out of his eyes as he chews a proffered bite of water melon.
“Hey, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian gestures at the trio of figures he’s been staring at so attentively. “Isn’t that Wen Chao? And some guy from Gusu Lan..?”
Lan Wangji’s expression shifts minutely to something mildly displeased--on one hand, it’s amusing the things that Wei Wuxian can fixate himself on, on the other, this is what he’s chosen to pay attention to? Only Wei Ying…
Nonetheless, he dutifully studies the supposed Gusu Lan cultivator. Ah.
“Mn. That is… Su Minshan.” He doesn’t feel like respecting Su She’s position as a sect leader, and so doesn’t bother to remind Wei Ying of the fact.
Wei Wuxian rests his cheek on his palm, thoughtful. “Huh… then, I wonder who the Lanling Jin cultivator is? I didn’t know Wen Chao could have.. You know, friends.”
Unfortunately for Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, the moment that the word ‘friends’ passes his lips, the figure in gold takes a hold of Wen Chao, while Su Minshan comes up from behind, and then they’re--
Pressing closer, and closer-- and then, the unspeakable happens:
A moan drifts across Lotus Pier's serene waters and into Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji's ears.
“Awh-- GROSS ! Lan Zhan-- Don’t look!! That’s-- That’s just--” Wei Wuxian scrambles to his feet, tugging Lan Wangji up and away with him. Not that he has to, Lan Wangji seems about fit pick Wei Wuxian up and run as far away from the indecent scene as physically possible. Which, considering this is Lan Wangji, is very very.
“How thick are their faces?!?" Wei Wuxian can't seem to get away fast enough, flushed a brilliant red from the roots of his hair all the way down his neck. It would be fetching if not for the... Yeah. "Even I wouldn’t-- not on the pier!! Shameless-- I can't believe--!"
The plate of watermelon chunks is forgotten in their haste to leave the scene, making it the sole, unfortunate witness to… whatever it is that Wen Chao, Su She, and Jin Zixun get up to.
At least while they’re busy fooling around with each other, they won’t have the time to bother anyone else, right?
