Chapter Text
“What?” Wei Wuxian said, snapping to real, genuine attention for the first time since Madam Yu had started in on her fourth (fifth?) lecture of the day on exactly what kind of behavior she expected at the upcoming discussion conference. “Lan Z- Lan Wangji is coming? Here?”
A-Cheng shifted slightly beside him, probably trying to make warning eye contact without breaking position in their formal arrangement. Wei Wuxian had no such restraint - he teetered forward, looking directly at Madam Yu to see if she was joking.
“Imminently,” she snapped. “With his brother and the Jin,” she paused, “siblings. So behave.”
A-Cheng firmly pulled him back into place, no doubt thinking violent thoughts. Wei Wuxian considered begging for shijie to step in, but then, squinting against the midday sunshine, he saw the specks in the sky - five people riding swords. So Lan Zhan really was coming.
“Stop gaping,” A-Cheng hissed. “You look like a fish.”
“A charming and lovable fish,” Wei Wuxian mumbled back, absentminded. Lan Zhan . . . he hadn’t seen him since the banquet in the Nightless City. He had held himself with the same unbending dignity that he had somehow kept up all through the Sunshot Campaign, while almost everyone else had lost their minds with relief and liquor.
Wei Wuxian had most definitely been part of the majority that night. He couldn’t even remember half of it, just flashes of drinking, more drinking, puking, and drinking more.
Well, it was almost comforting to know that there was probably nothing Wei Wuxian could do to make Lan Zhan hate him more than he already did.
The group of five landed their swords at a respectful distance. Lan Xichen was at the front, with Jin Zixuan right behind him; then came Jin Guangyao and Jin Xuanyu, only recently recognized as old man Jin’s bastards; Lan Zhan was at the back, tall enough for Wei Wuxian to see his face looming over the others, though it wasn’t like he needed to. He could draw it with his eyes closed: the flat line of his mouth, the impassive eyes, his sharp jawline. He even walked the same as always, like he was gliding. Gliding away from him, actually, since Lan Zhan seemed to be angling to put the whole traveling party between them.
He heard Uncle Jiang speak, then Madam Yu, but he wasn’t paying attention until A-Cheng elbowed him with what passed for subtlety, with him. Wei Wuxian only coughed slightly and did not actually crumple in half. Madam Yu still paused in her welcome speech, but managed to press on.
It sure got Lan Zhan’s attention, though. His gaze was as intense as ever, his eyes just as golden. Wei Wuxian winked at him. He snapped his attention back to Madam Yu.
“Thank you for welcoming us personally,” Lan Xichen said, bowing to Uncle Jiang and Madam Yu. “I believe Jin Zixuan has a few matters to discuss; they would be best discussed in private.”
“Yes,” Jin Zixuan said, a little too quickly. “I mean, thank you for the warm welcome. Perhaps we could retire, with, uh, Lan Xichen to discuss, um, matters.”
Madam Yu snorted, sounding almost amused. “Perhaps we could. Well, A-Li, I trust you’ll show the rest of our guests the proper hospitality. Come, follow me.” She swept away, and it was all that Uncle Jiang, Lan Xichen, and Jin Zixuan could do to keep up.
Once A-Cheng started relaxing, and before shijie could get a word in, Wei Wuxian yelled, “Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, why did you come to our discussion conference?”
“Too loud,” shijie said, mildly.
“No chaos here,” Wei Wuxian pressed on, grinning, “no monsters to slay. Just us shameless mortals, here to gossip and get drunk! So,” he said, breaking rank to saunter a little closer, “what are you doing here?”
The remaining Jins were watching, letting him move past them. Jin Xuanyu, who had to be, like, fourteen at the oldest, was wide-eyed and delighted. Jin Guangyao was smiling pleasantly, like this was normal. Wei Wuxian knew better than to look at A-Cheng, but he flashed an extra-wide smile to shijie, who just looked amused.
He was close enough to watch the muscle under Lan Zhan’s left eye twitch slightly. Success!
“So, Lan Zhan, what’s the story? Just couldn’t stay away from me, hm?”
Lan Zhan inhaled with slightly more force than necessary and turned his face away by a fraction. “Shameless.” Were his ears turning pink, probably with rage? Priceless!
“The Cloud Recesses were hardest hit by the Wens,” Jin Guangyao said, reasonably. “They could only spare a few people to come here; Lan Wangji is here to support his brother.”
“Yes,” A-Cheng cut in. “I apologize for my idiot brother, Hanguang-Jun.” He looked like he was going to have qi deviation from the effort it took to keep from yelling at Wei Wuxian.
“No need,” Lan Zhan said. So stiff!
“Would you like tea, or would you like to rest after your travels?” Shijie was calm, smiling like her little brothers weren’t about to start a diplomatic incident.
“Tea would be wonderful,” Jin Guangyao said, Jin Xuanyu nodding enthusiastically in the background.
Shijie led them all back to one of the rooms with the best view over the lake - not the absolute best view, of course, since Madam Yu would’ve claimed that one for the very important “matters” Jin Zixuan had been stuttering about earlier.
“I wonder what they’re talking about,” Wei Wuxian said. “You know, Uncle Jiang and them.”
“Marriage,” A-Cheng said, face absolutely thunderous as he settled in between Wei Wuxian and shijie, “which you would’ve picked up on if you weren’t so obsessed -” he broke off suddenly.
A maid, one of the shyer ones, brought in snacks and the tea. Wei Wuxian did not hold back from nabbing a few of the scallion pancakes while the tea was poured.
“Uhg,” he moaned through a mouthful, just to watch Lan Zhan’s jaw flex. “So good. Anyway, what makes you so sure it’s marriage?”
A-Cheng leveled him with a glare. “The arrogant peacock comes in a day early, embarrassed, sounding stupider than usual, and wants to talk to our parents. Alone. What else could it be about?”
Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to start complaining, looked at his shijie, and thought better of it. She was blushing a little, high on her cheeks. “Aw, shijie, you don’t have to marry him if you don’t want to.”
“Jin Zixuan would never force her into marriage,” Jin Guangyao said. Calmly, which was probably good for A-Cheng’s blood pressure, but he still groaned and slumped down, tilting towards her a little.
“I just don’t understand why you even like him,” A-Chang said, which was the beginning of a rant Wei Wuxian could recite line by line.
Not that he didn’t agree. “Or why you want to get married! Stay here and cook for us forever, shijie.”
“I want to get married someday, A-Xian, to someone I love. To someone who loves me.” She took a delicate sip of tea.
“What a lovely sentiment,” Jin Guangyao said, toasting her slightly with his own teacup and drinking too.
Wei Wuxian shifted gears - it wasn’t like he was going to bother shijie in front of guests about her only flaw. “Oh, so you’re also hoping to get married? To who?”
“I was speaking generally. Unlike Maiden Jiang, I don’t have anyone in mind.”
Wei Wuxian squinted at him briefly, but he was almost as hard to read as Lan Zhan. He wore a bland smile instead of a blank glare, but it worked just as well. Ah well, the non-answer let him move on to his real target sooner anway.
“What about you, Lan Zhan?” he sang, drawing out the vowels. “Does our esteemed second young master have a bride in mind?”
“No.”
“But,” Wei Wuxian wheedled, leaning across the table at Lan Zhan while at least making an effort to keep his elbows out of the food, “you’ve got to have your eye on a special someone, right?”
Lan Zhan’s lips thinned. He paused for a moment, then said, quietly, “ . . . Yes.”
“Aha!” Wei Wuxian threw his arms up, leaned back. He would have stood up and started dancing if he didn’t think A-Cheng would take him out at the kneecaps. “I knew it! But what maiden could resist you? She must be your future bride!”
Lan Zhan looked away, out to the lake. “I will never marry,” he said, with the same sincerity and conviction he used when he recited one of the Cloud Recesses’ infinite rules. Not that he ever used any other tone of voice.
Even Wei Wuxian was taken aback for a moment.
“I know that’s not one of your rules,” he recovered. “Even the righteous and pristine Lans marry! I know you don’t carve new disciples out of jade, even if that’s what it seems like sometimes!”
“Shameless,” Lan Zhan said, turning back to make direct eye contact. A-Cheng pounded his fist against Wei Wuxian’s thigh, trying to keep all movement below the edge of the table for plausible deniability.
“Well,” shijie said after an awkward beat. “Jin Xuanyu, have you ever shot kites before?”
“No!” the kid said, eyes huge and hungry. “What’s that?”
“Stop. Talking,” A-Cheng hissed in Wei Wuxian’s ear as Yanli explained. “Do you want him to kill you?”
“That’ll bruise,” Wei Wuxian whined.
“Serves you right.” A-Cheng started piling food in Wei Wuxian’s bowl. “Here. Stop talking and just eat.”
Atrocious! A-Cheng pretending to be a good little brother - Wei Wuxian wouldn’t even be able to complain to shijie about it! But, being the excellent older brother that he was, Wei Wuxian held in his outrage and got down to eating. He would have plenty of time to tease Lan Zhan during the discussion conference.
“Nie Mingjue and his brother got here this afternoon,” A-Huan said. “I hope you’ll join us for dinner.”
Lan Wangji looked up from his guqin. “Mm.”
“Good, because we’re about to start eating. Come on,” A-Huan said, like he wasn’t betraying Lan Wangji with a smile.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he continued, conversationally, clearly not about to let Lan Wangji get out of his commitment. “Nie Huaisang will be pleased to see you.”
Lan Wangji looked at his brother. A-Huan walked over and held out a hand to help him up. Lan Wangji didn’t take it; stood up on his own. “I will follow.”
And he did, into the room they’d be eating in, even after he saw that it was not just the Nie brothers, but also the Jins.
“Lan Wangji,” Nie Mingjue said, an acknowledgement. Lan Wangji nodded at him, just a slight incline of the head, but Nie Mingjue had to be used to that by now.
Nie Huaisang fluttered his fan over his face while A-Huan got them all situated and Jin Guangyao started doling out the food into his brothers’ bowls.
“How did it go today?” Nie Mingjue asked, looking between A-Huan and Jin Zixuan, who was slumped over, taking up one whole side of the table. Poor posture.
“Fine,” A-Huan said, “even though Jin Zixuan is being pessimistic about it.”
“Oh, did you come early for some particular reason?” Nie Huaisang asked.
“To ask whether I could - that is to say, whether Maiden Jiang, would, you know, marry me.” Jin Zixuan listlessly poked at the food in his bowl.
Lan Wangji silently applied himself to the food he had been served. As was only polite.
“Did she say yes?” Nie Huaisang said, feigning innocence for some reason beyond Lan Wangji’s comprehension.
Jin Zixuan moaned and put his chopsticks down so he could cover his face with his hands. “I haven’t even asked her yet, I just talked to her parents. To ask. If I could ask her.”
“And they said no,” Nie Mingjue said, sounding impatient.
Jin Zixuan wailed.
A-Huan sighed. “No, they, well, mostly Madam Yu, said it was up to Maiden Jiang. She gets to choose, and it doesn’t matter what they think. Though she seemed pleased, in my opinion, that Jin Zixuan is coming around on the idea of marrying her daughter.”
“There you go,” Jin Guangyao said. “It’s not that bad. It’s not like her brother would have let you marry her if she wasn’t actually willing, anyway. You haven’t lost any ground.”
The food was good, in Lan Wangji’s opinion, if too spicy; if only anyone else in the room was interested in eating it.
“But,” Jin Zixuan started. He stopped, looked appropriately embarrassed, and then continued anyway. “Part of my plan was to, um, tell her that her parents approved. So that she would know that I had, you know, passed muster with her mother. But if they won’t give their approval . . .”
“Maybe we should have talked about this before we actually arrived,” Jin Guangyao said. Lan Wangji agreed.
“You should have,” Nie Mingjue said. “This is no way to woo a girl. My brother could do better!”
“Be that as it may,” A-Huan said, serving Nie Mingjue a few pieces of pork, “we’re just going to have to adjust our plan, now that we know your . . . original idea won’t work.”
“Why -” Jin Xuanyu started. He stopped when everyone looked over at him at once, and shuffled slightly, like he wanted to hide behind Jin Guangyao.
Lan Wangji returned his attention to his food; even if the child should not have been talking, he did not deserve to feel afraid, and he was only following the poor example of his elders. A-Huan went one step further, of course, and asked, “Why what?” with a kind smile.
Jin Xuanyu shook his head, but Jin Guangyao nudged him and said, “Go on, didi, what were you going to say?”
“Why do you need a plan? Can’t you just ask?” Jin Xuanyu flushed and clamped his mouth shut with an audible click of teeth on teeth.
Jin Zixuan let out another undignified noise.
“Because,” Nie Huaisang said, looking across the table at Jin Xuanyu, “when we were children, he insulted Maiden Jiang often and in public. And,” he added lowering his voice and using his fan as a cover, as though that would stop his older brother and the man in question from hearing, “he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.”
Nie Mingjue snorted. “Don’t be rude,” he said, but without any of his usual intensity.
Anyone would think that Jin Zixuan was being heinously tortured, what with the way he was flopping about and gasping like a fish out of water. Not, Lan Wangji reflected, that the whole conversation wasn’t its own form of torture.
“Be that as it may,” A-Huan repeated, “we need to figure out how we can help woo Maiden Jiang for our poor, unfortunate friend. Maybe one of us should do it for you, since you - no offense - can’t seem to speak to her directly.”
“I could . . . write a letter,” Jin Guangyao said, slowly.
“You do write good letters,” Nie Mingjue said, while A-Huan nodded. Lan Wangji studied the lotuses painted onto the porcelain bowls. Very fine work. A much better topic of conversation, if there had to be conversation.
“And deliver it,” he continued, “during, I don’t know, some sort of distraction, at the banquet tomorrow night.”
“Are you suggesting I make some sort of distraction?” Nie Huaisang asked.
His brother cuffed him on the ear. “Absolutely not. Their first disciple here, Wei something - he’s supposed to be a handful.” Lan Wangji concentrated very hard on moving normally and on not looking up. “I bet he’ll do something, all on his own. No need for you to get involved.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Nie Huaisang said. “His name is Wei Wuxian. We’re friends - you should remember him; he handled himself pretty well in the Sunshot Campaign.”
“Unlike you,” Nie Mingjue growled. “So, if you know him so well, do you think he’ll make some kind of scene?”
“Yes,” Nie Huaisang said, “especially if it’s something that might catch the attention of our esteemed Hanguang-Jun.”
Lan Wangji couldn’t stop himself from looking up and swallowing his half-chewed food. Nie Huaisang was looking at him directly, covering the lower half of his face with a fan, but not obviously joking or lying. Surely he meant that Wei Ying simply favored him as a target for pranks. It would be foolish to hope for even one moment that Nie Huaisang meant to imply anything beyond that; to hope that the pranks were anything other than an expression of ambivalence or animosity.
Quashing his foolish hope still took a moment; the conversation moved on around him. Luckily, Lan Wangji had only a few bites left in his dish. If he ate them faster than was strictly recommended, no one seemed to notice.
“I have finished eating,” he said, standing up and cutting Jin Guangyao off mid-sentence. “I am going to retire for the evening.”
“Goodnight,” A-Huan said, looking up at him. “I’ll be back in our rooms before nine.”
Lan Wangji nodded at the rest and took his leave. He couldn’t wait to meditate. He had plenty of thoughts he wanted to clear from his mind.
A knock came before Jin Zixun had even finished getting out of the sweaty clothes he had traveled in. He sighed but opened his door, re-tying his robe.
It wasn’t his cousin - it wasn’t any of his cousins, to his surprise. It was Su She.
“What do you want?” Jin Zixun snapped.
“Let me in,” he said, crowding in as much as he could with Jin Zixun blocking the door and darting nervous glances over his shoulders.
Jin Zixun stepped aside, then pulled the door firmly shut. “What are you so antsy about, anyway?”
“You’ll never believe what I heard last night,” Su She said, smug.
“Tell me,” Jin Zixun crossed his arms. “Get to the point.”
“Maiden Jiang is being seduced,” Su She said, lowering his voice on each word, “by Jin Guangyao.”
“What?” Jin Zixun crossed the space between them and grabbed Su She by the shoulders. “What do you mean, by Jin Guangyao? Jin Zixuan is the one who wants to marry her. That’s why they came early!”
“Stop shaking me! That’s why I had to tell you - he’s going to slip a letter to her at tonight’s welcoming banquet. He was planning it all with his sworn brothers.”
Jin Zixun dropped Su She and paced, trying to think. “Why are you telling me this, not Jin Zixuan?”
“Because,” Su She started. He paused, delicately, but jumped when Jin Zixun headed straight towards him, reaching out to grab him again. “Wait! Because, well, you’ve heard the rumors.” Su She dodged out of the way. “That the Jiang girl and their ward are . . . inappropriately close. She might accept Guangyao’s advances, since she doesn’t seem to have any standards or shame. If I told Jin Zixuan, he would address it directly with his bastard brother and stop him from his underhanded seduction scheme. There would be no chance to prove that the girl is unfaithful and unworthy of your cousin.”
Jin Zixun stopped stalking towards him but kept pacing. He had a point. “So what are you doing, coming to me?’
“We both want her to show her true colors,” Su She said. “So you can give Jin Guangyao the opportunity to hand her the rope she’ll hang herself with. Just bother Lan Wangji at some point; Wei Wuxian will make a scene, and that’ll give the bastard a chance to make his move.”
Jin Zixun stopped. “Huh? What do either of them have to do with it?”
“Hanguang-Jun,” Su She smiled, “is part of it, too. I saw him come out of the room where they were talking about it!”
“Okay,” Jin Zixun said. “I still don’t get that part, but whatever. Sure. I’ll do it. He could stand to be taken down a peg, anyway!”
“Well, the reason-” Su She said. “You know, never mind. Once she gets the letter, we can see how she reacts, and we can tell your uncle about it, if she’s unfaithful. So if there’s an engagement, it won’t be permanent.”
“Good plan,” Jin Zixun said. Jin Zixuan would owe him so much if he was the one who saved him from a marriage to some little harlot who wasn’t even anything special! If she accepted the advances of the son of a servant, she would probably be even more open to a recognized son of Jin Guangshan, bastard or no. “Now get out, so I can get ready.”
Lan Xichen watched his brother sit down next to him at their assigned banquet table. They were close to the main table; they had a good line of sight to the Jiangs - and to Wei Wuxian. Lan Xichen could see that A-Zhan was taking plenty of advantage of it. He was hardly being subtle by any standards.
Jiang Fengmian started a welcome speech; Lan Xichen tuned him out to contemplate his brother’s . . . fixation. Mingjue’s little brother had implied a few things after A-Zhan had stormed out, and he was in a position to know.
But Wei Wuxian was not paying them any special attention at that moment. He was behaving well, seated next to Jiang Wanyin and looking into the middle distance.
Jiang Yanli was seated on the other side of her parents, smiling. The Jins were seated across from the Lans - a much fuller contingent. Jin Guangsang, Jin Zixun, and a handful of other disciples had arrived that morning. Jin Zixuan, typically, was making eyes at Yanli.
Who would have thought that, after defeating the majority of the Wen sect, the top ranked young masters’ greatest concerns would be about matters of the heart?
Not that the war hadn’t led to other surprises, Lan Xichen mused as Jiang Fengmian sat down and conversation swelled up around the brothers and their island of silence. The remaining Wens - all two cultivators - were here. Seated at the far end of the hall, not in an honored position, but there all the same. Wen Qing, now the leader of the new splinter Wen sect and head of the tiny clan survivors, was calm, but Wen Ning, her little brother, looked like he wanted to run away.
A first course was served. Even inhaling the steam made Lan Xichen’s eyes water. He blinked back tears and ate.
He watched the other discussion conference participants posture and politick. The reputation of the Lans and their strict adherence to their rules protected A-Zhan and him from the worst of it; being seated next to the Nie clan probably protected them from the rest of it.
The Wens, of course, had no respectable reputation and no protection, so they were fielding a lot of snide remarks. A lot of the smaller clans were circling them, trying to spot any weaknesses; the rest were crowding around the Jins, mostly Jin Guangshan and A-Yao, trying to work their way into favor.
A-Yao was very good at the whole game, he thought to himself, smiling across at the man in question. He looked back with a thankful expression, even as he continued to handle what looked to be some difficult conversation with Su She.
Lan Xichen pulled his eyes away, to keep scanning the room, but he caught the eye of Jin Zixun as he did so. Something had set the man off, obviously - his jaw was clenched, his face reddening - and it seemed to have been something either Lan Xichen or his brother had done, since he was staring directly at them.
A quick glance over at A-Zhan showed that he was being as impassive as ever; he was stealing the occasional glance up at Wei Wuxian with a longing that only Lan Xichen would ever pick up on. He couldn’t imagine how that would be the issue. Lan Xichen smiled mildly at Jin Zixun, confused.
Jin Zixun only narrowed his eyes at him briefly, then broke eye contact. Just as Lan Xichen started to relax, the man grabbed a jar of wine, stood up, and walked over to them.
“Hello,” Lan Xichen said.
“Hello, Zewu-Jun, Hanguang-Jun,” Jin Zixun said, something cruel in his voice. “Let’s have a toast. To a lasting peace.” He cast around for three cups, located them, and started pouring.
“They don’t drink,” A-Jue snapped, leaning over, his little brother next to him and watching everything with wide eyes.
“Oh?” Jin Zixun said, louder. The other conversations cut off; the room went silent. “It’s one drink - a toast to peace. They wouldn’t insult the Jin sect by refusing, would they?”
“They really - ” A-Yao tried, across the room.
“I’ll drink with you,” Lan Xichan said, picking up one of the filled cups, “but my brother - he -”
Wei Wuxian jumped down from the head table, not actually vaulting over the furniture but only by a small margin. “I’ll drink for him!” he announced, skidding to a stop in just the right place to nab one of the cups, miraculously not knocking anything over.
“Uh,” Jin Zixun said.
Wei Wuxian handed him the final cup and beamed at him. “You wouldn’t insult the Jiang sect by refusing to drink with this lowly disciple, would you?”
“Um,” Jin Zixun said, glancing around.
Lan Xichen looked around, too. Everyone was watching their little interaction. “To a lasting peace,” he said, raising his cup.
“To a lasting peace,” Wei Wuxian and Jin Zixun echoed, with very different intonations.
The three of them threw their drinks back. Lan Xichen managed to keep from choking.
“Great wine!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, slapping Jin Zixun on the back hard enough that he jolted forward into the edge of the table. “Not as great as Emperor’s Smile, right, Lan Zhan? But I’ll drink it anyway!”
He scooped up the open jar and, one hand on Jin Zixun’s shoulder, started steering him towards the head table, still chattering away. The Jiang family was watching with various degrees of amusement and horror. Well, except for Maiden Jiang, who was looking down into her lap.
Lan Xichen glanced back across at A-Yao, who winked. He couldn’t help but to smile, even if they were in a very public place, with a lot of eyes still on them. Well, they were sworn brothers; the public could keep their gossip.
He looked at his brother, to see how he was faring. A-Zhan was wide-eyed and rigid with shock, still staring down at the three rings of condensation where the cups had been.
Lan Xichen leaned over so he could quietly say, “No one will try to make you drink again, at least at this conference.”
“Mm,” A-Zhan said. He ran his finger through the closest ring, dragging the condensation out into a trail across the table.
Lan Xichen decided he wasn’t going to worry about it anymore. He could feel a headache coming on, just like the few other times someone had convinced him to drink. For once, he wanted to leave early just as badly as his brother.
“You go on ahead to our rooms,” he said. “I’ll stay back, just to say good night to a few people.”
That got A-Zhan’s attention. He nodded solemnly, stood, and drifted out silently but not unnoticed - Wei Wuxian, who had untangled himself from a seething Jin Zixun, watched him leave. He was troubled by the way the boy - the man, now, like A-Zhan, since they were of age - acted around A-Zhan. He didn’t know how to interpret it, and if he didn’t, then A-Zhan certainly didn’t either.
Lan Xichen shook himself from his musing - was he intoxicated? Likely. He stood to say his goodbyes for the evening and leave before he embarrassed himself.
“Ah,” Nie Huaisang said, appearing in front of him before he could make it even a step, “Zewu-Jun, I would have a word with you in private.”
“Oh?”
“It,” he said, taking a half-step closer and lowering his voice so that Lan Xichen had to strain to hear him, “is about your brother. And about Wei Wuxian . . .”
“You already look perfect, you don’t need any more makeup!”
Yanli smiled down at A-Xian, but stayed at her table to look through her powders and salves. If the letter was real, and the moments she had been sharing with Jin Zixuan were genuine, she wanted to look her best for that night’s closing banquet.
“He’s right,” A-Cheng called from where he was leaning against the doorframe. “You don’t have to - to dress yourself up for that peacock. You’re too good for him anyway!”
“I know you think that,” Yanli said, catching A-Cheng’s eye in her mirror and smiling, “but he might propose tonight. I don’t want anyone to say that I don’t deserve to be with him.”
“Anyone who thinks that is an idiot!” A-Xian scooted across the floor to hug one of her legs. “We’d fight anyone who says anything like that.”
Yanli patted his head. “I know you would. But we’ve been talking about this for the whole conference. Either his words are true, and he loves me, or . . . well, nothing will happen tonight. Either way, we shouldn’t talk about it anymore. What about you, Xianxian? When are you going to stop teasing nice girls and find one to propose to?”
“Xianxian is three! Too young to get married!”
A-Cheng snorted. “Definitely too young to get married. Anyway, what kind of girl would actually agree to marry you?”
Yanli didn’t need to look to know that A-Xian was sticking his tongue out at his brother. “You, too,” she said. “You’re going to need to get married so you can produce an heir.”
A-Cheng sputtered. “What? This isn’t about me! I’m fine. I don’t need a wife!”
“What about your list, huh? You told me you have a list of what you look for in women when we were drinking a few months ago.”
“I’m going to kill you!” A-Cheng roared as he leapt towards A-Xian and tackled him. Luckily A-Xian had already let go of Yanli’s leg, but she still needed to straighten out her skirts.
“Boys,” she said.
They immediately stopped, mid-wrestle, and looked up at her, guilty.
“What would our parents think, if you come to the banquet all mussed up? It’s starting very soon; here, stand up.”
They both took her hand and let her pull them up, let her fuss over their clothes and hair until it was like they had never fought. She would never tell them, but she liked it best this way, when they were ashamed, and let har baby them. It was like when they were younger, a more innocent time. A time before any of them knew war; before they had needed the splinter Wens to come save their family and their home; before they had known hopelessness.
“Are you okay, jiejie?” A-Cheng asked her, taking one of her hands gently in his. “You’re tearing up.”
“I’m fine,” she said, blinking her emotion back into check. “I just love you both very much.”
“Ah! You can’t just say things like that, shijie,” A-Xian said, his own eyes a little glossy as he mimed staggering like he had been hit with a blow. “Even if the peacock proposes, you’ll be here a while longer.”
“We love you too.” A-Cheng’s voice cracked, and he could not look directly at her. “Anyway, you said it yourself, the banquet is supposed to be starting very soon. We should go.” He turned on his heel and walked out, not waiting for either of them to follow.
Yanli nudged A-Xian as they started after him. “You’d think telling me he loves me is as painful as getting whipped with Zidian!”
A-Xian snorted and wiped at his eyes with as much discretion as he ever managed. They both straightened up when they heard their mother, well before they saw her.
“. . . almost late, and where is your sister?”
“I’m here, mother,” Yanli said, stepping forward a little quicker.
Madam Yu eyed her over. “Good. Boys, you go ahead. I need to talk to A-Li for a moment.”
Yanli saw A-Cheng look over her shoulder, no doubt exchanging a glance with A-Xian. “Sure, mom,” she said, and only then did the two of them move on towards Father. Sweet but unnecessary - she was the favorite, and always had been.
Her mother took her by the shoulders. “We both know Jin Guangsang will likely propose on behalf of his son at this banquet,” she said, eyes searching Yanli’s face. “You know I want you to accept. But more than that, I want you to choose who you marry. If you want to marry the boy, good. If you don’t, just say so. Jiang Fengmian and I will handle any fallout. Madam Jin will understand, so you don’t have to worry about disappointing her too much, either.”
“Thanks, mother. If he does propose, I plan to accept.”
She squeezed Yanli’s shoulders and let go, backed up, looked her over one last time, nodded. “Good. You look very elegant. Let’s go.”
Yanli followed in her footsteps; they caught up with the rest of the family quickly, though neither of her brothers were acting like they had overheard anything. Too preoccupied with a little quiet bickering before they had to behave in public. Her father paused in front of her and brushed a loose strand of hair back behind her ear.
“If we’re all ready?” he said. They nodded, and they trooped out to sit behind this high table, in the same arraignment they’d kept to for the whole discussion conference. Xianxian, then A-Cheng, then father, mother, and Yanli at the other end.
Partly so she could be close to the Jins, but also because they didn’t want to lend any credence to the rumors. Madam Yu, with an unusual amount of what might have been kindness but was probably just foresight, had been very, very careful to make sure neither of her brothers knew about that second reason.
“ . . . a most productive conference. I hope that in the coming years of peace and balance, we’ll have many more discussion conferences like this,” her father finished, sitting down with a smile. Yanli knew he was mostly relieved to be done with the speech-making aspect of the whole conference.
Yanli scanned the audience - mostly receptive, though the younger disciples looked like they had mostly just been waiting for the part where food got served. The head of the Moling Su sect, which was a small, new clan, looked dubious about it all, as did a few of the leaders of other small sects. When she had helped her father draft the final speech, she had tried to keep in enough emphasis on the new balance of power creating plenty for all; maybe it hadn’t been enough to satisfy the weaker sects. Something to keep in mind; something to watch out for.
“Well said,” Jin Guangsang called from his seat, practically next to her. Jin Zixuan, bless him, was looking directly across the hall, nowhere near towards her, with the leadened expression of a man sentenced to death.
Yanli fought a smile. How could he not know? She had always loved him.
“In fact,” Jin Guangsang continued, projecting, “I hope we can all gather sooner rather than later. For a wedding, that most joyous of occasions.”
Titters ran through the crowd. Yanli kept her benign smile and tried to trace all the different glances; tried to understand what they could mean. The Moling Su sect leader looked far too happy; Jin Zixun looked more angry than she would have guessed; the Nie brothers seemed smug for no reason Yanli could discern. Her fingers were trembling. She clenched them.
“A wedding between my son,” he addressed her father once the room was quiet, “and your daughter, the young Maiden Jiang.”
“That would be a joyous occasion, indeed,” her father answered before a new round of murmuring could start, “providing that my daughter accepts your proposal.”
Jin Guangsang looked a little taken aback, obviously not prepared for this, but he turned to look at her, as did almost everyone else in the hall. A-Xian was craning all the way forward in a half-crouch, even though he already knew what she was going to say. Only Jin Zixuan kept staring dead ahead - it didn’t even look like he was breathing.
“Yanli happily accepts,” she said, which was true.
Jin Zixuan looked up at her in surprise and she smiled with her whole face, genuine. What a fool! What a sweet fool, to think she would turn him down.
Whispers were traveling the length of the hall, but for once Yanli made no effort to catch them. She could hardly look away from Jin Zixuan, even as a stream of people came up to congratulate her (the older Lan, the younger Nie; the head disciples from the Baling Ouyang and the Laoling Qin; and of course a series of her Meishan Yu relatives). He was just the same, looking at her even as he talked to very important people he really should have been paying attention to. Yanli didn’t mind.
He got progressively drunker, as each well-wisher wanted to take a drink with him, and soon he was red-faced and beaming up at her. She didn’t hide her amusement very well, but that only made him smile harder. Joy was bubbling up her throat like laughter; she could hardly eat because of it.
Once her laolao had moved on from her to her mother (Yanli’s cheeks hadn’t been pinched so hard since she had hit puberty), Jin Guangyao came up. “My congratulations,” he said, with a charming smile.
“Thank you,” Yanli said, with feeling. If it hadn’t been for the letter that he had delivered, she would not have known how Jin Zixuan felt - and who knew how she would have interpreted the proposal without that?
“Of course,” he said, picking up what she actually meant. “Now, listen, as your future brother, I have a favor to ask you, though I don't think it'll be much of a burden. It involves your Wei Wuxian. And, if you’ll believe it, it also involves Lan Wangji . . .”