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If Jiang Cheng were lying to himself, he would say he doesn’t know why he’s here. But he’s too proud for that. He knows exactly why he is here. He failed again , he wasn’t good enough again so he had to crawl pitifully to someone else for help. Normally he would not allow such a thing. Normally he would force his own crumpled pride back into shape, smooth out the wrinkles, and ignore the damage that was done to it. But he has Jin Ling now. It isn’t just him that suffers from his stubborn pride, it would also be his nephew.
So, he dragged himself to the only place that could help. The Cang Qiong mountain sect. He dragged himself kicking and screaming, Jin Ling curious and confused, to the sect and practically planted himself there until he got what he requested. Jiang Cheng was, admittedly, surprised that they conceded easily just after him asking twice. The concerned glances from disciples made his skin itch. He knew how he looked, flying here and wrangling a child exhausted him along the way, but at least Jin Ling still looks immaculate and well cared for. He will withstand others judging himself, but he will not stand for others judging his nephew.
Thankfully, the disciples take mercy on them and herd them to the least busy Peak, where it seems all the disciples and servants are too busy working to spare them a second glance. The busy atmosphere is homely and familiar enough for Jiang Cheng to feel his shoulders lighten, feel them draw back up into a more comfortable version of his proud stance. Gone is a layer of his ferocious armor and revealed is his shining pride. This? This he can deal with. The well decorated halls and busy offices are, were his domain.
“You may go in.” A disciple waiting by the door opens it for him, bowing low to Jiang Cheng despite his (newly) low status; “The Peak Master is waiting for you.” He returns the bow, shallower than is appropriate, like his pride would snap if his waist bent that far. Jin Ling stays close to him as they step inside, mercifully obedient as they enter the resplendent office of the Peak Master. It is beautiful despite its lack of color, all black and whites that do not overwhelm the senses. The desk he stops in front of is stacked high with paperwork and various seals, but even the mountain of paperwork does not hide the tall figure sitting there.
Yue Qingyuan looks the same as he did those years ago, how could Jiang Cheng forget that face, even if he had just seen it only momentarily? Jiang Cheng would call his face plain at best if he was a fool . He can recognize how handsome that brotherly, kindly face is, the clean cut of the Peak Master’s figure in his layers upon layers of robes. The older man’s cool black eyes blink up at him and he offers that damnable warm smile that gets right under Cheng’s skin, making it itch and ache. Jin Ling, however, relaxes at it, shoulders dropping and eyes widening up at the Peak Master.
“Jiang Wanyin, it is a pleasure to see you again. Shall we take tea? This master can imagine you are quite tired from your trip.” The sect leader stands and motions off to one of the side walkways. Jiang Cheng can recognize a plan in motion. Yue Qingyuan had already planned something when they arrived. Of course he had. He gives a single stilted nod, keeping his lips pressed into a firm line. As much as he is out of his playing field, as much as he is out of his depth, he still has some semblance of control of the situation. The Peak Master seems to concede on that with a small nod and stepping ahead to lead them out. Crisp air greets them as they follow the walkway out to a private garden, devoid of disciples and servants. A tea table has already been set up on the patio. “This master hopes your journey was pleasant.” Ugh. Smalltalk.
He does not dignify the other man with a response. Being met with a kinder smile is not what Cheng expected, but the years have infinite surprises for him, it seems. That kind smile chips at his proud armor just slightly, leaving a small nick in the gleaming surface. When they sit at the table, the Peak Master pours them some tea - really, doesn’t this man have servants for that - and slides a plate of sweets closer to their side of the table. The silence, which the former Lord had been trying to make tense, is comfortable. They are shielded from the sun by a pear tree in bloom and the gentle breeze rustles the flowers of nearby plants to suffuse the air with a honeyed scent. If fate is so intent on taking apart Jiang Cheng’s pride, then he will simply have to build it up stronger. Not even the gods could break his pride right now. Crumple it? Yes. Break it? No.
“Your proposal still stands.” he says instead of asks, steady voice carried far by the wind.
“Of course. Though… It has been some years since then. This master did not think Lord Jiang was open to it.” The elder man says, levelling him with a serious look.
“.... How I feel does not play into this, the good of my people and Jin Ling’s safety matter far more.” Cutting straight to the point is easier when he removes his petty emotions from the situation. Jin Ling reaches onto the table to pick up his tea cup with both hands. Those tiny little hands lift the cup and bring it to the child’s lips. A-Ling seems to consider the tea for a moment before lifting it up towards him.
“Hot!” the three year old huffs, looking at him with A-Jie’s eyes, but sharpened from Jiang Cheng’s parental influence. Cheng leans down and blows across the tea, using his spiritual energy to cool it to a mild warmth for the child. “Thank you!” Jin Ling chirps and drinks a few gulps of the tea before putting it on the table again, patting his hand around on the table for the plate of sweets, which Jiang Cheng moves closer so he can snatch one of the osmanthus cakes.
“Don’t get your robes dirty, we’re in someone else’s home.” Cheng warns with a voice so calm it surprises himself. He can’t embarrass himself in front of the peak master, no matter how kind that smile is. Like he’s waiting for us to slip up…
“Yes, Jiujiu…” Jin Ling nods and goes silent again so he can eat the sweets entirely too quickly. He ignores the way Yue Qingyuan’s eyes watch them like a hawk, instead taking a moment to wipe the child’s face with a tut.
“I must admit, I was not expecting you to have a child-”
“He is Yanli’s.” Jiang Cheng ignores the way his voice quavers, raising his eyes back to pin the sect master in his seat; “He is my nephew.”
“.... It is not easy to raise a child on your own. If you take my proposal, he will be provided for-”
“I would not be taking it if he would not be, Sect Master . Don’t waste your breath.” he scolds, sneering at the other man, whose demeanor softens again.
“Of course. Until the notion can be passed, we will have accommodations prepared for you here on my peak. If you need anything-”
“We will not.” Jiang Cheng snaps.
“Of course.” Yue Qingyuan bows his head before looking back up at them; “What is your name, little one?” The former lord has to restrain himself from lunging across the table and throttling the older man. Must restrain himself from baring his fangs and digging in his claws.
“Jin Ling! What’s yours?” Of course, Jin Ling answers easily.
“I am Yue Qingyuan, but you can call me Yue Qi.” The sect leader’s voice lowers conspiratorially, earning a bright grin from the child, who nods happily; “You and your uncle will be staying here at the sect with me. I do hope you enjoy your time here.” That politeness gets under Jiang Cheng’s skin more easily than his smile did. If I had heard him act this nice at the meeting then, I never would have come here now… This is for Jin Ling’s good. This is for his people’s good.
That bastard , Jiang Cheng thinks as he is piled with red fabric upon red fabric. That bastard was too busy for the past week to spend much time with him. They were barely settled in, the dust had barely settled, and suddenly the proposal was passed in a surprisingly sudden Peak Lord meeting. Again, Jiang Cheng knows a plan in motion when he sees one. This plan clearly involved demeaning him. They are not egregious, but these robes are definitely feminine! Do his sleeves truly need to sweep so low!? Does the train need to be so long!? The waist is cinched to make it look smaller!! It's covered in phoenixes!!
“That bastard .” he verbalizes, ignoring the way the servants exchange concerned and confused looks. The fabric of the robes is exquisite, well made for such a short amount of time available. He’d think they were someone else’s robes if they didn’t fit so well and if he did not see the tailor deliver them himself. At least the sect leader isn’t sparing any expense.
“Lord Jiang…. Can, can you please sit down so we can do your hair-” one of the servants asks, pausing when he sits heavily in the offered chair. They hurry to continue their work, as if afraid he will up and leave before they can finish. He’d be tempted to if he wasn’t already this far. Hell, he’s already eating Yue Qingyuan’s tofu, he may as well take another bite. The servants don’t deserve his ire, he tries to keep his anger to himself at least. They have been nothing but polite and kind as they wrapped him up in seemingly infinite layers of red silks.
They are currently gentle as they comb out his hair and braid it up. Instead of side braids, they braid his entire head of hair then pin it up… Without a hair crown? He almost tilts his head back to ask when he hears the soft clink of a wedding fengguan, sounding heavy with its numerous gems and beads. He is spared the brunt of the numerous pins used to fasten the coronet in place by his thick braids, golden strands hanging in his peripheral. He feels like a fucking treasure in this. If their situation wasn’t so reliant on this damnable wedding, he would shred the silks with his bare hands and shatter the gems with zidian. As it is, he simply lowers his head as the veil is lowered over his face and pinned into place as well, the red fabric slightly too thick to see clearly through. Golden tassels fall below where the edges of the veil flow exactly at his hips.
“You’re ready, Lord Jiang…” the older servant speaks up finally, clasping her hands in front of her; “Is there anything you think we should change?”
“No. Thank you.” he says as he stands back up; “You did excellent, you can take the afternoon off. Go enjoy time with your family.” He may not be the Peak Master’s husband yet but he will be soon and he absolutely can and will abuse that power. The servants look… well, shocked, and exchange glances. He simply levels them with a stare from behind the veil until they bow.
“Thank you, my lord!” they chime together and hurry out. He follows them and pauses at the door, staring down at the disciple waiting for him. Ugh. He can barely see the young man through the veil, but he could recognize the head disciple anywhere. They’d spent the entire week together, he’d be a fool if he couldn’t recognize that eyepatch.
“Is Lord Jiang ready?” the disciple asks.
“....Yes. Let’s get this over with.” Jiang Cheng takes a deep breath and offers his hand. The boy takes him out to the palanquin waiting for him, only stopping when the sect leader squeezes his hand. “Lord Jiang does not have to take the palanquin.”
“.... No. I’ll take it.” The more concessions he makes now, he reasons, the more he can muscle out of the sect leader tomorrow. He steps into the palanquin and sits down, smoothing out his robes. If i’m stuck in these things for the night, I may as well look decent. The tailor worked hard on these . He’s too thoughtful to be spiteful to the artistry of the pieces he is wearing, even if the impulse to destroy them screams below his skin. They… Have their advantages in some ways. It may not be as sleek and comfortable as his own robes, but the fabric is soft and tempered with talismans to keep it clean. The slippers he wears are dainty and carefully embroidered with golden lotuses, but comfortable and easy to slip off if need be. He feels… comfortable. Disconcertingly so. How much did that bastard think of!?
When he is led into the main hall, where the meetings are held he thinks, Jiang Cheng is struck with how well decorated it is. The normally black and white decorations are replaced with vivid reds, golds and purples . It would feel like a spiteful joke if Jiang Cheng didn’t love his family so much. The purple beads and gems of his coronet would feel much the same if they didn’t remind him of the people he missed so deeply. Zidian crackles softly on his finger, tracing static up his veins to match his own nervous energy. I’m getting married…
The low light makes it harder to see, especially since the lighting is centered at the front of the room, where Yue Qingyuan waits for him dressed in sumptuous reds, golds and purples that match his own. When he is close enough to see it, the flicks of red at the corners of his fiance’s eyes make them seem sharper, almost as sharp as Jiang Cheng’s own. He knows the other man can see his eyes through the gauzy fabric between them, his eye color just dark enough to be the only thing to stand out among the red since his hair had been covered by the coronet. Yue Qingyuan…. Looks good in color, he decides. The greys and whites he normally wears are pleasant to the eye, but he has seen his fiance in black once, chilling him to his core. No, black doesn’t suit him, but the warmth of red and gold makes him look softer.
At the very least, the sect leader is thoughtful enough to offer his hand when they kneel, helping keep the other man steady. The three bows are… hard. Not because the weight of his coronet, nor the brush of his veil, no, Jiang Cheng’s heart clenches at the second bow, making him falter slightly before he can rise. His ancestors, he could care less about past respect…. But his family. The people he’s failed so much that he had to lower himself to this position. Bowing to his father, his mother and sister feels like a sick joke. It feels like an insult.
Ignoring the feeling of tears pricking the corners of his eyes dangerously - they couldn’t see if a tear or two fell across his cheeks under the veil anyways - and taking the hand offered to him, he turns to the other man. Those obsidian eyes bore into him the same as before, but the flicks of red are softened by the concern there, the softer set of his lips as if he may ask at any moment if they should stop. No . Jiang Cheng lowers himself to bow first, feeling a small swell of pride when the other quickly follows suit.
When he sits back up, he allows the other to pour their wine (it’s not like he can see anyways) and accepts the cup offered to him. He offers his arm first, curling it around Yue Qingyuan’s when it is offered. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Jiang Cheng slips the cup under the fold of his veil to drink, letting his lashes fall low (but not closed) to watch his fia- husband drink with him. With the cups heavily set back on the tray, Yue Qingyuan takes his hand with the utmost care.
“Jiang Wanyin, I have prepared something extra.” he says so softly that it is unlikely most of the crowd heard. Not that it matters, the closest people to them must be the Peak Lords closest to the sect leader. He thinks he also spotted the head disciple there as well. With the slightest wave of Qingyuan's hand, a servant approaches with a small pillow, from which the sect leader takes what appears to be a jade charm. “I hope you will accept this.” Polite to no end, the sect leader gently places the charm in his hands. Jiang Cheng doesn’t need to draw it back under his veil though. He would know the feeling of Jiang spiritual bell anywhere…. He knows the engraving along the top for the rest of his life. “Will you allow me to put it on your belt?”
That soft voice makes more sense now, cuts deeper into his heart. He isn’t mocking me. The former lord - current lord? Does marrying a lord make you a lord? - hates the genuine kindness of the man in front of him. Yue Qingyuan is a genuinely heartfelt individual. He is the opposite of Jiang Cheng… Just like Yanli… They watch one another for another moment before he gives a single nod, coronet clinking slightly. For any normal person, the heart melting smile the sect leader gives would be endearing, but instead it drives ice down his spine.
He almost doesn’t feel the soft pull on his belt as the other moves closer and fastens it for him. Cheng is sure he will be angry later when he sees it. He’s sure there is something there that will stoke the fire in his heart again. This idiot seems good at that. He hates the things he has noticed today almost as much as the revelation, the way he has absorbed small details of his new husband so quickly. His hands are larger and warmer than Jiang Cheng’s own, his arms are thicker and built with more firm muscle than his own lithe musculature, the tiny braids in his hair leading back to his hair crown.
He takes the other man’s hand when it is offered, steadying himself once they are on their feet again. All this fabric is too heavy, too stifling. If the sounds coming from the room they enter are anything to go by, he’ll be able to sit for a while though. They take their place at the head banquet table, his husband sitting after he helps him into his seat because he is apparently determined to be perfectly good today. Ugh. In a minor act of rebellion that he can savor alone, Cheng kicks off his slippers and wiggles his toes in the free air under the table, ignoring everything being said around them.
Around? A glance around reveals that, no, of course this damn sect doesn’t do weddings normally. Seated with them are a handful of other Peak Lords. Are they considered his family? He idly wonders as he stares at them, duly noting the empty chair on the other side of his new husband. He… supposes that would make sense? They have been here together for a while, maybe they are his family. Or, Wanyin would think so if he didn’t remember the rumors. He heard them years ago, stemming from the peak lords attending that meeting where he momentarily saw the Peak Master. Did you know the Cang Qiong sect leader has a harem? I hear he takes every Peak Lord as his spouse. How ethical is it for a sect leader to marry his martial siblings!? I suppose marrying all the other Peak Lords means he isn’t favoring anyone. Mostly the idle murmurs of servants or house mothers, mixed with words of how handsome the Peak Lords were or the work they had done in their short time at the meeting.
Harem…. Is… is he part of a harem now? Despite how hard it is to see through the gauze, Jiang Cheng draws his eyes across the Peak Lords sitting with them, tracing an eye over their forms. These… were the lords at the front of the crowd during the ceremony. The most identifying features match up. A young man with sleek white robes and a long ponytail, another young man with messy black hair and brown robes, but one is missing. The distinct spring green of a cold figure in the exact middle of the crowd is gone. Another draw of his eye reveals new details now that he is closer. The white clad man has a mole under his eye, a red scarf tied around his belt. The brown clad man has dark circles under his eyes and an over robe over his shoulders, a red scarf in one of the pins holding it in place.
“Are you replacing me now, husband ?” a cold voice draws his eyes to the side, past Yue Qingyuan to that splash of green. It is terrifyingly familiar looking at the other man’s face, like looking in a mirror. Sharp eyes, confident stance, high cheekbones and piercing gaze, only this man is dressed comfortably in flowing scholarly robes, practically drowning in them. The elegance of how he sits on the other side of Yue Qingyuan draws shivers up Jiang Cheng’s spine. A red ribbon hangs from his zhan, prominent and beautiful against his gentle colors and cold demeanor.
“I would never Xiao Jiu.” Yue Qingyuan’s voice takes on that gentle tone before he turns his attention to take Jiang Cheng’s hand. The warmth makes the former lord break out into a cold sweat.
“Play nice for a few hours, please Shen-shixiong. This is a happy occasion.” the messy lord sighs, having acquired a cup of tea from one of the servants. His voice is gentle, but in a different vein than Yue Qingyuan’s. It smooths down Jiang Cheng’s rankled nerves. “Welcome to the family, Sandu Shengshou.” Finally, someone with genuine politeness .
“Welcome.” the man in white bites out. His husband - their husband? - sighs.
“You… Can call me by my name.” Jiang Cheng corrects. If they’re going to share a husband, they may as well use their names, right? Even if the respect makes him feel slightly less out of place. “Jiang Wanyin… or Cheng.”
“Oh. Yes, of course. Do you know...” the question hangs unfinished, but Wanyin already knows what he means.
“I pieced it together, yes. This would have been nice to know before I accepted the proposal.” he grinds his teeth indignantly at his husband, earning a bitter laugh from the other side of the man. The soft breeze of a fan shifts his veil and he finds himself staring at the spring Lord.
“You will find our first husband lacking in his ability to say anything of any importance.” the jab should make him want to defend the man between them, but instead he relishes the way ir makes Yue Qingyuan press his lips into a line; “If you have questions, ask them now, boy. We will answer them.” Ah. He has a type… Jiang Cheng turns his eyes from the spring lord to the one clad in white. His husband definitely has a type. Cold.
“Your names.” he says simply, tilting his chin up with firmness equal to his commanding tone. He is a lord again (he thinks?) and he will sure as hell act like one. Zidian sparks once in his lap.
“Shen Qingqiu. I’m your second husband and the Lord of Qing Jing Peak." The spring Lord answers easily, tone aloof and smooth, though…. Not as cold as Jiang Cheng expected.
“Liu Qingge. Bai Zhan Peak.” the man clad in white finally looks up at him; “Your third husband.” A man of few words. Good, at least someone here won’t talk his ear off.
“Mu Qingfang of Qian Cao peak, your fourth husband.” The messier man says; “I will be the first to see you tomorrow morning.” What? Why?
“Ah, A-Fang…” his husband finally snaps back to attention, turning to Cheng; “Mu-shidi is head of the medical peak. He will need to give you a physical tomorrow. When you’d like to see him, that is…” He isn’t just kind . The realization… doesn’t surprise him that much. Yue Qingyuan is whipped . A man bent around three husband’s fingers, now with a fourth husband to tend to. He dignifies him with a soft grunt in response, turning his attention back to his other husbands. He… can’t imagine any of them in these robes. Did they have different styles of robes for their weddings? Did they even have ceremonies? “A-Cheng can call me Yue Qi, if he would like…” the sect leader adds in a softer voice, tone closer to something more vulnerable than Jiang Cheng is comfortable with in a banquet . Yue Qi? As in the number?
“Does my first husband not have family?” he asks after a moment, turning back to the other.
“This is my family.” Yue Qi responds immediately and genuinely. As expected. He doesn’t have family then. Wanyin isn’t a fool, he can piece together the pieces. Yue Qi and his first husband Jiu, both numeral names, no family members for the sect leader there. He must have been a slave. Jiang Cheng draws his eyes across his other husbands, pausing on Mu Qingfang.
“I believe Liu-shixiong is the only one with family.” the medic says after a moment of thought. The Bai Zhan peak lord nods.
“My sister and mother attended.” he confirms. Sister and mother? Hm. The crowd is busy and thick with sect members, but Jiang Cheng’s eyes land on a young woman and older woman with similar faces, the younger face hidden mostly behind a veil. She has Liu Qingge’s eyes though, the same regal elegance that her princely brother has. The Liu madam looks stern and well put together in a way that drives waves of longing through Wanyin. His hand tightens on his husband’s before relaxing again. If mother saw me now, she would disown me. The image of the two Liu women make him ache to see his own mother and sister. No one can see if tears escape under his veil.
A tug at the hem of his robes draws his eyes down to the bundle of gold at his feet. He reaches down on instinct to lift Jin Ling into his lap, patting the child’s back as he gets comfortable. A servant calls something out as they hurry their way, but (presumably) Yue Qingyuan dismisses them with a wave. He doesn’t care if the robes get slightly wrinkled from his nephew sitting on his lap.
“Jiujiu is married…” Jin Ling murmurs, staring up at him with big eyes.
“Yes. You have another uncle now.” Wanyin isn’t about to explain the mechanics of whatever the hell this marriage is to the child, especially when he himself doesn’t fully understand it. He is fairly sure this counts as a harem.
“Another!” Jin Ling twists around to gaze at Yue Qingyuan with those big eyes he’s so good at; “....Shushu. He can be shushu.”
“Thank you.” Yue Qi laughs softly, reaching out a hand to ruffle the boy’s hair.
“Oh… He’s quite young.” Mu Qingfang murmurs. A complex look passes over Qingge’s face before it’s gone, schooled back to his frankly blank expression. “How old are you, little one?”
“Three!” Followed by something not even Jiang Cheng can parse out, even with his years of listening to babbling.
“Oh, you’re quite a lot younger than the disciples we take. Perhaps you can learn from them…” Mu Qingfang nods; “Do you like to read, little one?”
“No.” Jin ling is a Jiang, through and through, and he answers with the brutal honesty of a child and a Jiang family member. There is a choked laugh from Yue Qingyuan and a soft snort from Qingge. The toddler takes the lapse in conversation as the conversation being over, looking back up at his jiujiu. This time, familiar curiosity burns in his gaze. His little hands lift the veil and peek under before Jiang Cheng - even with Jiang Cheng’s years of child-catching reflexes - can stop him, earning slightly less stifled laughter from somewhere around the table. This child is going to be the death of me . “Jiujiu looks pretty!”
Jiang Cheng should burn with embarrassment at that. He’s a man made up in rouge and golden ornaments! Wrapped in delicate silks and a feminine cut robe! But… well, Jin Ling has never been anything but honest. And what does a child know about what is proper and what is not? How is Jin Ling supposed to know a man in makeup and women’s clothes is shameful? But, his cheeks don’t flush, he doesn’t suffuse with heat. He can’t even bring himself to be terribly bothered by Jin Ling looking under the veil when the boy reaches up and messily wipes a tear from his cheek, mostly just smearing it into his skin. It’s the thought that warms his heart.
“Jiujiu will be staying in my room tonight. Is that okay with A-Ling?” Yue Qingyuan’s voice is suddenly closer, speaking softly to the child who immediately wiggles out from below the veil to level the sect leader with a suspicious look that he may or may not have learned from said Jiujiu.
“Be nice to Jiujiu.” Jin Ling settles with a resolute nod, which Qingyuan returns just as seriously. Once that matter is resolved, the toddler settles into Jiang Cheng’s lap comfortably to snooze with the telltale iron grip on his veil.
“Oh that was fast.” the sect leader chuckles.
“He’s just a toddler, zhangmen-shixiong. This must be a lot of excitement for him.” the medic responds with a fond smile.
“Yes, and I’m sure we’ll already be back in… the room when he wakes up…” Jiang Cheng shakes his head, sighing; “He can nap for quite long, let’s hope for the best.” With how the day is already going, he’d rather not deal with the puppy eyes or sniffles that are bound to come with their return to Yue Qingyuan’s room (and despite his anger, he is not terrible enough to leave the others to deal with it).
“If my sister comes over here, don’t tell her anything incriminating.” The Bai Zhan peak lord warns out of absolutely nowhere. His gaze shifts from Jiang Cheng to the nearest horde of guests, eyeing them suspiciously before letting his eyes slide back to the other.
“What… Counts as incriminating?” Cheng asks in return, with no answer. The others simply continue eating. What??? Incriminating? He’s a lord ! What could he have done or will do that would be ‘incriminating’?
“Is A-Cheng going to eat?” his husband asks as his thumb swipes into the divot between his knuckles.
“I’m not hungry.” he snaps, perhaps more coldly than he intends, but really what did his husband expect!? He just got married because his people need him, to a man with basically a harem! He at least has the right to be indignant or awkward. Maybe even a bit embarrassed. Jiang Cheng is sure he’ll circle back around to that later though, when they’re finally alone. In Yue Qingyuan’s room. After the banquet. To-...
“It’s okay, A-Cheng, we understand.” that thumb gently digs into the divot it rests in before traces to the center of his hand so it can rub there as well. Yue Qi gently clasps both hands around Jiang Cheng’s - they engulf his own, really, they’re so wide - and he turns the “bride's” hand over and gently massages the dip of the palm with clever fingers. He isn’t looking but Wanyin can imagine the gentle smile on his husband’s handsome face. What do they understand!? They all had to know each other before they became Peak Lords, they almost definitely had the time to court one another! But Jiang Cheng was just thrown into this by his circumstances! He will concede that maybe Liu Qingge could have been as nervous as he is during that ceremony, the man doesn’t seem exactly good at expressing himself…
Thankfully, the table lapses into comfortable conversation among the lords, who do not seem to expect their new spouse to join in. Really… He would be more angry if he wasn’t feeling so awkward. He’ll be much more angry about all of this later if he has the energy. Jin Ling’s tiny hand jostles his veil and makes the beads clink as he wiggles around to get more comfortable, catching and dragging out the lull in conversation. Are they…? When the child settles back down and returns to snoozing, the conversation returns, quieter now. They didn’t want to wake Jin Ling up. He smooths his free hand down the child’s back, adjusting him to lay more comfortably against Jiang Cheng’s chest. At least Jin Ling seems happy here. He’ll be thrilled to spend so much time with Peak Lords...
With his focus on Jin Ling, it feels like the blink of an eye before the candles have burned halfway and the incense sticks have long since burned out, wafting rich smoke into the room. That hand on his squeezes once and gently pulls, drawing him out of his daze. When had he gotten so unfocused? The swimming red of the veil almost makes him dizzy, though it does leave him somewhat disoriented. He takes a moment to remember that, yes, this is his wedding banquet, he turns his head to Yue Qi, blinking at him.
“We need to go back to the room.” Mercifully, his husband keeps his voice low, a rumbling murmur between just the two of them. Right… A servant comes closer at the sect leader’s beckoning but pauses when Mu Qingfang shakes his head.
“I can take Jin Ling for now.” the Qian Cao peak lord offers, Wanyin thinks he smiles but he can’t tell past his veil, not with his vision so blurred. In their short conversation, the medic seemed plenty calm and reasonable, and… They’re spouses now. Just the same as leaving Jin Ling with some unfamiliar servant. He gives a single nod before looking down to focus on untangling Jin Ling’s hand from his veil. It’s a familiar task, something he could do (often did ) without even opening his eyes (in the early hours of the morning when Jin Ling climbed into his bed). “Ah, thank you.” Mu Qingfang gently scoops up the toddler from his lap after he peeks up at him.
“He doesn’t like his hair touched, he squirms when he sleeps, and don’t eat anything crunchy while he’s on you, he will wake up immediately. He will grab your hair in his sleep if it’s near him, so fix that .” the lord warns automatically, the same warning he gave the servants that took Jin Ling that morning. On instinct, he reaches up and flicks the man’s hair properly behind his shoulders and out of the toddler’s reach, pausing when he realizes how intimate the gesture is.
“Haha, thank you, Jiang Wanyin.” Mu Qingfang just chuckles at it and moves to go sit in his assigned place. Jin Ling looks so small in his arms… When Yue Qi gently takes his hand, Jiang Cheng slips his shoes back on and gets to his feet. When he hesitates for a moment, the other adjusts his hold on him, one hand holding his hand and other hand sliding down his arm to cup his elbow.
“Are you okay? Do you need to eat something?” the sect leader asks when the other does not respond to his questioning look.
“No, I’m, I’m alright. I almost nodded off is all… Just lead me back.” It’s reasonable to be tired after spending all day doing nothing, right? Reasonable to be tired after having a toddler napping on you while you’re in a comfortable atmosphere. He doesn’t see the other man nod, really, but still falls into step with him when he takes the lead. The halls are too long, the lights too low. He is really unsure if he tripped over a carpet or just stumbled, but Yue Qi’s arms around his waist snaps him back out of his mind.
“A-Cheng… Here, let me.” the other scoops him up to his chest easily, like he truly weighs nothing. He’d care more if he wasn’t so resigned to the situation, if he wasn’t so tired. His arms wind around the other’s neck, which the sect leader takes as permission to continue walking. “Apologies for making you wait so long, the banquet always goes by fast for us.” That is only dignified with a grunt, closing the conversation down before it can go any further. The moment they’re in the sect leader’s bedroom, he is set on the bed and said sect leader leans down to take his hand again. “May I?” Right… Right this is happening. Jiang Cheng swears he feels the other’s bones creak when he grips his hand too tight for a moment. He’s gracious enough to let his grip go slack again though.
Another single nod and that hand lets go of his to go to the hem of his veil. They hesitate, a moment for Jiang Cheng to back out - though isn’t it too late - before the veil is finally lifted. Without the gauze, Jiang Cheng finally gets a breath of cool air, not stifled by the warmth of the embroidered fabric. The room around him is large but sparsely decorated aside from the numerous pieces of art on the walls. When his eyes finally land on the other man’s face, he pauses. He’s…. He’s in his husband’s room. On his bed. On their wedding night.
“A-Cheng is so beautiful…” that handsome bastard breathes, leaning in closer; “May I kiss you?”
“Ugh, why are you asking ? Why don’t you just take what you want?!” May I, may I, may I!!! How polite can this man be!? They’re married , they’re already in his room! Lifting the veil, it seems, allowed more air to reach his fire, sparking it back to a roaring blaze the moment it was freed. The shock on the sect leader’s face is delicious , feeding that fire more.
“I would not want to make my husband uncomf-” the kiss is imperfect, Jiang Cheng is painfully reminded of his inexperience when he grabs his husband’s robes and yanks him forward into a kiss and their teeth clack together. Jiang Cheng’s wild spirit licks its fangs at the sight of the sect leader’s widening eyes and the flustered blush that tinges the tips of his ears. It isn’t a good kiss, but the control he has sends more of a thrill down his spine then even a good kiss could. The sect leader is under his thumb now, whether he knows it or not. He will bend the polite and gentle man to his will (he suspects Yue Qi will want that anyways).
He only lets the other take control of the kiss when it becomes increasingly clear things will be easier that way. Something about the soft whine Yue Qingyuan makes when Jiang Cheng cedes control makes him think that maybe the other man wanted to be pushed around, but thought is driven out of his head when his husband finally swipes his tongue into his mouth. As the kiss smooths out, Wanyin gathers enough courage to wrap his arms around the other’s neck. Really, what is he doing? Maybe… Maybe when he gets better at, at this , he can take control. He’ll just need practice… With his husband. A soft tug on his belt draws him from the pleasant haze of slick kisses and closeness, snapping him to full tension.
“Don’t-!” Jiang Cheng chokes as he pulls away, throwing himself back on the bed. He’d feel bad about almost kneeing his husband in the side if he wasn’t so panicked. Qingyuan sits up fully and waits, staring back at him as he heaves a breath. They stay like that for a moment before Jiang Cheng lifts himself on his elbows, frowning deeply.
“We don’t have to, A-Cheng. Don’t worry.” Yeah, no shit they don’t have to! He isn’t afraid to zap his own husband!! He tries to maintain his indignant state even as the other man’s words do genuinely calm him. It’s their wedding night. He’d expected the sect leader to… Want him? To some extent? Does he not want him? The uncertainty that curls in his heart stifles the calm, fighting against it. Is he just being considerate or is this truly just a marriage of convenience? “Would A-Cheng be okay with a bath?”
“....A bath?” he repeats back.
“Yes. Would you like to just take a bath and go to bed instead, A-Cheng?” Yue Qi asks. A bath…. In the sect leader’s private spring? With the sect leader maybe?
“No…. No weird touching.” Jiang Cheng resolves. He’s seen men naked before. His heart cannot handle such intimate touches but… But just being around him should be fine. He thinks… He hopes, really.
“May I carry Cheng-er?” Yue Qi asks after another moment. I'm going to kill my own husband on our wedding night if he doesn't stop calling me that!!
"Why do you ask!? Just pick me up damn it! You're going to do it anyways!" He snaps in return. Show some respect to your spouse his mother's voice echoes in his head, but don't baby them . Yue Qi just smiles at him and steps off the bed.
"Does Cheng-er like to be carried?" The sect leader asks innocently as he scoops the younger man up and cradles him to his chest. Like a treasure… Jiang Cheng stamps out the rising embers of embarrassment before they can make his face flush. No, he can't be embarrassed right now. He's too much fire and fury to let such a thing take him. Wanyin clenches his fists in his husband's lapels, crumpling them in a small act of rebellion as the other carries him off to (presumably) his bathing spring.
"Of course I don't. I'm a grown man! And what makes you think you can call me that!?" If he were anyone else, he'd recognize how foolish and tiring such anger can be, but he's a Jiang, his mother's spitfire child with too much fire burning below the surface.
"A-Cheng is my husband, of course I would call him so intimately." His husband tuts with some fond exasperation.
"You don't know me." He hisses back as they come to a stop in the small alcove. Steam rises from the nearby spring and makes the air hazy, too warm to be bundled in so many layers of heavy fabric and silk, stifling when one is already penned in by so much red. The sect leader pauses and sets him down, staring down at the other man for a moment before his smile returns. And he… says nothing. Jiang cheng waits for a response, for a fight - something he can win, something easily resolved through his brute fury - but nothing comes. His husband simply turns and begins to undress as Wanyin stares wide-eyed at him. He's used to this , his mind whispers, reminding him of that flash of green. For once, his fire smothers itself. He worked himself up too much, there isn't enough fuel, enough air to continue burning at all. So, it just dies. It dies and leaves a tingling in his fingers and toes as Zidian murmurs weakly to him.
Jiang Wanyin turns away before the other can look at him, pulling weakly at his belt until it comes loose, then the intricate folds of his robes until he is left as bare as he feels. He can't feel his husband's eyes on him through the suffocating humid air around him. Water splashing softly finally makes him turn. Yue Qi has already entered the spring, basking in the warmth happily while he patiently waits for his new husband. Like he's waiting for a child's tantrum to stop. He has definitely done this before.
Ignoring the clench of his throat, Jiang Cheng enters the spring with him, pausing when the lap of hot water makes his toes burn. When he finally settles in beside the other, he stares down at the water as it ripples around them. This… Isn’t fair. Jiang Cheng knows it isn’t fair, but he can’t pinpoint to who. Him? He’s uncomfortable, in a new place, but he’s…. Also being an ass. Like he always is…. Yue Qingyuan is treating him so fragilely, but…. Isn’t that what he needs right now? The man is just being nice to his new husband who is in a tough situation. Are they both at fault then?
“...Sorry.” he sighs as he sinks lower in the water.
“A-Cheng shouldn’t worry so much. Everything will be okay. I didn’t make my offer for no reason, back before…. Everything happened.” Yue Qi looks over finally, a smaller genuine smile on his face as he reads Jiang Cheng like a book; “I offered to marry you because I think you’re a handsome, good man. Even past the lightning and anger.”
“.... Thank you.” How does one respond to that!?
“May I wash your hair, husband ?” the sect leader turns to him with that smile, shoulders comfortably slumped. That isn’t… anything too intimate, right? He gives a single stiff nod and turns, though Yue Qi rises out of the water to come sit behind him. “Is this okay?” Another stiff nod as he ignores the way his husband’s thighs bracket his body easily. He’d made a point of not looking at his naked husband earlier. The man is built like a fucking mountain! How unfair!!
“Relax, A-Cheng, you’ll send yourself to the infirmary at this rate.” Is… Is Qingyuan teasing him!? He would whip around and give the man a piece of his mind, but the fingers that dig into his hair are gentle and threaten to tug if he moves too much. So, he just sinks into it. He leans back more comfortably against the wall of the spring and allows his husband to work away his tension with careful fingers and soft humming. Did his other husbands need this? Is it normal to be this awkward and nervous? Did Liu Qingge struggle against him when he was carried? Did Shen Jiu berate him? Did Mu Qingfang scold him? “I’ll take care of you and A-Ling. I promise.”
Jiang Cheng likes to think he is a reasonable man. Yes, he’s easily angered, yes he gets worked up into a tizzy, but he can be reasonable! So, when he had walked into his husband’s office and stood proud in front of his desk, he was ready for the man’s arguments.
“Give me half your paperwork.” he’d said. He’s not good with words but he can argue with the best of the best. And he always gets his way.
“Hm? What?” those obsidian eyes dragged up to him tiredly, stopping when they finally met his own eyes.
“You will give me half your paperwork to fill out. I’m your spouse, you must share your work with me.” he responded easily. Sharing your burdens does not necessarily mean sharing one’s paperwork but he was itching to do something . Without his position as a lord of his own house, he needed something to do, and his husband was so swamped with paperwork every day that he often seemed tired. It was a fairly reasonable solution, if you ask Jiang Cheng.
“Oh, Cheng-er doesn’t need to worry, this master can handle his work. Cheng-er should go relax and enjoy himself.” Yue Qi tried to wave him off, like a bastard .
“I am not some house husband made to sit around and look pretty, Yue Qi! You will give me half your paperwork or I’m leaving the peak for a month!” he said with a foot stomp, just for good measure.
“Cheng-er… I don’t want to have this argument.” his husband rose to his feet and circled the desk to come over to him. Wrapped up in his husband’s arms, he felt the fire die down slightly. But not entirely, of course, he’s a man with a strong will. Right. Demands didn’t work, so he turned to his second plan. Leaning in, Wanyin gently pressed his chest up to the other man’s, leaning up to plant a delicate kiss at the corner of his mouth.
“This Lord is not a bauble for you to keep, you know. If his husband is stressed from his duties, he would like to help him bear that burden.” He said uncharacteristically delicately. Normally his husband bent to his… tantrums. He threw tantrums, okay!? They work with Yue Qingyuan, he always seems so happy to be subjected to one. When they didn’t work, he learned Mu Qingfang’s approach worked. Don’t struggle, be soft, stress that you want the best. It always works for the medic.
“I know… But A-Cheng should not have to worry about it. He takes such good care of A-Ling and he so much to sort through….” Excuses. Those were excuses. He could recognize them from a mile away, Yue Qingyuan was and always will be flush with excuses for not putting burden on others. Jiang Wanyin leaned in to share a soft kiss with him, lingingering close when they broke apart again. “....Cheng-er should go to his room. This lord doesn’t need help. It’s just sect work.” Go to his room!? Like a child !? And what was that bullshit about not needing help!? His hands tightened on those lapels, threatening to rip them.
“You always need help.” he murmured; “Are you implying that I cannot handle such work?” Yue Qingyuan’s shoulders tensed.
“That- no. But Cheng-er shouldn’t have to worry about such things.” This again!? Jiang Cheng took a deep breath and pulled back to look at the other man.
“Let me help you with your work.” he said more sternly.
“No.” Yue Qi said plainly. No!? As the threads in his tight grip threatened to break, Zidian began to crackle softly, glowing purple dangerously close to his husband's face. Did his husband think him incompetent or simply indolent!? He’s a Jiang! He shoved the sect leader away from him with a jolt of energy and a loud huff. Fine. He’d make himself useful somewhere else . He turned and stormed out without pausing to look at the other man’s shocked expression, it was the same as every other time anyways.
That does not explain why his husband has come to him out on Bai Zhan Peak’s battlefield. It’s only been a few days of his pouting, usually it takes longer for his husband to crack from the silent treatment. The sect leader stops near his husbands, waiting until they are clearly done talking to approach. Jiang Cheng is immediately suspicious.
“Jiang Cheng.” Yue Qi says. Oh , his husband knows he fucked up. He only ever uses that tone when one of his husbands is angry at him, the same tone he grovels with to Shen Jiu.
“What?” he snaps back, razor sharp and irritable. The way his first husband’s smile widens is damning.
“A-Cheng is still upset with me.” the peak lord says like that is somehow a good thing. Like he’s glad for it. Liu Qingge spares a glance between the two of them and takes a few steps back. Like Jiang Cheng would strike his husband, he would never . He may have zapped the man during his fit of rage, but that was once! And it was harmless! “This husband has a consolation gift to make up for his mistake.” Nevermind, Jiang Cheng is going to kick his sorry ass. He can feel the creeping fury rising inside him, licking dangerously at his skin. Does his fool husband think he can make up simply by giving him some trinket!? He’s not Shen Jiu!
“You-”
“Come with me.” His husband cuts him off as he turns and starts to walk. Wanyin follows Yue Qi with long strides, stoking that fire into a steady low flame. Clearly, clearly his fool husband needs to be taught a lesson. He can hear the Bai Zhan peak lord following after them, his third husband is at least reasonable enough to resolve arguments with his fists. Not that they have argued. Qingyuan pauses to let them catch up with him and pushes the door to the spare room open. Liu Qingge’s pavillion is rarely occupied by guests, so fine, they can argue here, that’s-
“Come, A-Cheng.” Yue Qingyuan says over the soft scuffling in the room. He practically drags a mostly shocked Jiang Cheng in to stare down at the set of puppies chasing each other around the room. Oh this bastard . Jiang Cheng loves him, he thinks. That tone…. He missed the flicker of pride behind the grovelling. His husband looks oh so smug right now. Wanyin lets himself fall to his knees and be swarmed by the puppies, reaching a shaking hand out to scoop one up. “Do you like them?” Yue Qi asks like he doesn’t already know the answer.
“.... You bastard.” Jiang Cheng hisses as he cuddles the squirming dog to his chest; “You righteous bastard .” The other two dogs swarm him and bark, pawing at him. He lowers himself to lay down and let the other dogs climb on him. “I hate you.”
“Haha, I love you too, A-Cheng. A-Ling will be excited.” Yue Qi says from above him. Jiang Wanyin closes his eyes to avoid staring at his beautiful smug face.
“He only gets one. The other two are mine .” He’ll share with Jin Ling, of course, but it’s been so long since he’s had dogs… Plus, it’s not like A-Ling will be taking care of the dog himself, he’s only three!
“I will get more when he comes of age.” Yue Qi chuckles warm and sunny above him. Like he’s definitely willing to turn his own peak into a dog kennel just for his husband and nephew.