Work Text:
1.
Sect Leader Jiang, Sandu Shengshou, the fearsome cultivator of Lotus Pier and Jin Ling’s temperamental nagging uncle, had a secret magical pocket beneath his robes.
Jingyi found it out during one of their joint night-hunts.
It was winter, the nasty one that made even Gusu Lan disciples grumbled and complained (they didn’t, actually, grumbled and complained, but Jingyi did and he voiced what his peers simply couldn’t). He would rather copy the rules 15 times as he did handstands in the warm, closed library; but alas there was an urgent call from the nearby town and a task was a task.
Ouyang Zizhen, been enlisted a guest disciple at Gusu Lan since early spring that year, joined them, which was a welcome company. However, dear Young Master Jin, who was “taking a break” from his duty as the new Lanling Jin leader also decided to come along, and by extension, so did his sour-faced grape uncle.
So here they were now, five trembling, miserable figures; plowing through the snow against the oncoming snowstorm. The town wasn’t actually that far from Gusu Lan by flying, but of course, flying on swords in this kind of weather was about as smart as making a funny face in front of Sandu Shengshou.
Who, by the way, seemed to be in an especially bad mood today. Not that Jingyi blamed him. He felt like screaming and cursing something himself, but he refrained to do so in fear of getting minced to bits. He resolved to scowling and muttering under his breaths between sniffles instead, the same way Jin Ling did. Sizhui stayed silent and calm as if he wasn’t trying to get his ass going in this forsaken knee-deep snow, Zizhen too was quiet though Jingyi had a suspicion that the poor boy was just intimidated into silence by Sect Leader Jiang’s ominous presence.
“Will you cut that crap!”
Sect Leader Jiang suddenly snapped, glaring at the four of them. Jin Ling automatically yelped a defensive, “we’re not doing anything!” emphasized by Jingyi and Zizhen’s panicked nodding. Even Sizhui seemed taken aback by the sudden outburst and immediately stood in attention as if expecting a punishment.
“You’re sniffling like dogs,” Sect Leader Jiang sneered accusingly.
The juniors glanced at each other, at a loss of words. It’s true—it was so goddamn cold out here that their noses couldn’t help but water, and all four of them sniffled the mucus in as they breathed. It wasn’t like they did it on purpose. Jingyi too would prefer a dry, not-congested nose any time, thank you very much.
Sect Leader Jiang grumbled and glowered so heatedly as if he wanted to melt the snow with it (Jingyi lowkey convinced he could, with enough will). Then he reached into the inside of his sleeves and, unexpectedly, pulled out four sets of purple handkerchiefs.
“Blow it out. Your sniffling’s going to attract a lot more troublesome things than a snow ghoul. I will disembowel and feed you to them if that’s the case.”
Three “yes sect leader Jiang”s and one “yes Jiujiu” answered him in unison, followed by an orchestra of nose blows. Jingyi folded the used handkerchief and tucked it into the inside of his belt, idly wishing his uniform had pockets in it.
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2.
Sizhui sneezed.
It was a quiet one which he hid behind his elbow sleeves, as was appropriate.
“Here.”
Sect Leader Jiang was handing him something that looked like a tube-shaped glass container with yellowish-brown liquid in it, which he seemed to conjure out of nowhere. Sizhui must have looked at it a second too long, puzzlement clear on his face because the man scoffed impatiently.
“Rub your neck and ears with it. You too!” He barked to the other three who, until just now, merely watched the interaction. They immediately set into a hasty motion toward Sizhui to do what they were told.
“Thank you, Sect Leader Jiang,” Sizhui uttered, opening the bottle’s cap. A fresh minty smell wafted out, characteristic to oil rubs. Sizhui poured enough to his palm then relayed the bottle to Zizhen, who did the same. Soon all four of them were busy rubbing the ointment, not only to their neck and ears but also to any exposed body parts. The effect was a pleasant, soothing warmth, like the palms of healers against their skin.
When Sizhui turned the now half-empty bottle, Sect Leader Jiang threw him such an offended, nasty look that Sizhui colored and wondered if turning back something he had been offered to use after he finished using it wasn’t the proper etiquette.
Surely it was, he reassured himself, but then again, Sect Leader Jiang might have different rules than everyone else. And so, Sizhui tucked the small bottle into the inside of his belt, near his handkerchief, entertaining himself with the wishful thinking of a pocket inside his sleeves like Sect Leader Jiang’s, that would make keeping trinkets a lot easier.
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3.
“I hate snow ghouls.”
Jin Ling growled with as much dignified menace as he could muster with his current state, that was, with his outer robe torn into an unsalvageable mess and his hair disheveled; an appearance unbecoming of someone of his station, young as he was.
To be honest, the hunt had been a relatively easy one—Jin Ling would like to believe it was due to his increasing prowess in both fighting and team-working, instead of the ghoul being less than a mildly intelligent creature. His uncle didn’t even need to interfere, merely watched from afar as the four of them worked, like a grandmaster testing his pupils or something (and Jin Ling was sure his uncle DID make some evaluations on their battle moves).
However, it didn’t mean the ghoul didn’t make quite a valiant effort. It managed to throw Lan Jingyi off balance with its icicle-covered tail, and Jin Ling, being an agile, quick-witted, and alert fighter that he was, jumped in to cover his rear as Lan Jingyi struggled to get up from the pile of snow. It was a mere lucky strike on the ghoul’s part when it landed a series of knife-sharp icicles to Jin Ling’s way, ripping his outer robe and hair tie in the process.
When Jin Ling brushed off his suddenly wild-untamed tresses off his face, Lan Sizhui and Ouyang Zizhen had landed the finishing blow to the ghoul’s head. And that was that.
“Geez, no need to be such a wuss about it, Young Mistress. It’s not like anyone’s going to see your less-than-presentable appearance out here,” Lan Jingyi grinned, tugging a few of Jin Ling’s long hair teasingly. “Besides, the look kind of suits you. Gives a certain edge to it that matches your prickly temper ….”
“If that’s how you show gratitude for someone who’ve saved your ass, I swear I’m going to—” Jin Ling’s heated threat was stopped by a massive sneeze. Damn it. His outer robe was also the warming part of his attire, and with it gone he was practically naked to this exposure.
Lan Jingyi had the decency to look guilty after that. He opened his mouth, most likely to deliver an apology in his smart-assed style, while Ouyang Zizhen offered a layer of his robe to Jin Ling and Sizhui poured a generous amount of oil rub to his palm, ready to rub it on Jin Ling.
“No, Ouyang Zizhen, I’m fine. Now put that back on, you’re going to catch a cold. Lan Sizhui! Ugh, I can do it my—uh, hi, Jiujiu.”
His uncle was standing right in front of them, where he wasn’t a mere second ago, as if he sprouted out of the snow like a lily. His angry eyes narrowed to slit and Jin Ling shifted self-consciously under his perusing gaze, all too aware of his destroyed garb and untied hair. He could hear the scalding insult like a premonition:
What part of being careful didn’t register in your thick skull!? With such a clumsy mistake I’d expect the thing to cut your head open! The cold might do good to your brain—
“It’s my fault, Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Jingyi stepped up before Jiujiu commenced, his face flushed pink and his fingers trembling a little but he looked Jiujiu bravely. Jin Ling had to say he was impressed, if not a bit offended that Lan Jingyi though he needed to be protected. “I miscalculated the ghoul’s attack, and Young Master Jin covered after me. The ghoul would’ve gotten on me if it wasn’t for Young Master Jin’s intervention.”
… though it wasn’t such a bad thing too. It felt good, having your work acknowledged.
“Your focus is getting sloppier, Lan Jingyi. I have to admit it is a surprise,” Jiujiu spat. Jin Ling recalled the previous night hunt when Lan Jingyi got chewed for being too “eager”, which in turn affected his assessment on the situations.
And then, uncaring to Lan Jingyi’s defensive retort about the snow and the cold, Jiujiu turned his attention to Jin Ling again. From under his sleeves, he pulled a neatly folded spare robe with Yunmeng Jiang’s symbol on it—the one Jin Ling often wear during his stay at Lotus Pier—and a piece of hair-tie, less elaborate than the one Jin Ling had, but it will make do.
“Get dressed! If you get a fever after this, I will dunk you in the lake!”
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4.
Zizhen’s stomach growled.
Next to him, Lan Jingyi snickered, and Zizhen felt a flush crept up his cheeks.
“Excuse me.”
He knew he should have eaten a lot more before the hunt. But when Lan Sizhui informed him that Sect Leader Jiang, Sandu Shengshou, was going to join them, his already small appetite caused by Gusu Lan’s bland food diminished completely. It wouldn’t do, he conceded at the time, to be so nervous that he barfed out his dinner of steamed eggplant in front of the ferocious Yunmeng Jiang leader, whose robes just happened to be purple. The easily agitated man could see it as an insult and declared war or worse to his much smaller sect, so Zizhen skipped the meal entirely, just in case.
Now, as they trudged back painstakingly to Gusu Lan, he saw how it wasn’t much too wise of an idea.
The night was getting late. There wouldn’t be any meals left at the hall, and since they weren’t allowed to keep food at the dormitory, he wouldn’t be able to nibble some snacks too. There literally was no hope in getting his hunger assuaged. His stomach twisted and burned with starvation, the night hunting exercise wasn’t helping it, and still he had to hold it for the rest of the night, until the breakfast bell at six tomorrow morning.
“Try to ask Sandu Shengshou. I bet he has some food in his magical pocket,” Lan Jingyi whispered.
“Magical pocket …?”
“Yeah, the one he got under his robes? From where he kept pulling out strange things for us? Handkerchief, rubbing oil, Jin Ling’s robes??”
Lan Jingyi sounded thrilled, his eyes gleamed with that particular mirth Zizhen learned to relate with dangerous excitement. Lan Jingyi was making up crazy theory in his head about Sandu Shengshou and he was itching to test it.
“I’d rather starve,” Zizhen hissed, unwilling to participate in such experiment so late into the night. Indeed, he too was curious about how the older man managed to bring so much luggage without looking like it, and he too wanted to know what else he hid behind those normal-looking sleeves, but he wasn’t going to risk disembowelment in the middle of a stormy night.
Besides, both Lan Sizhui and Jin Rulan didn’t seem fazed (even when Sandu Shengshou took out a freaking WINTER ROBE like some sort of magic trick) so surely it wasn’t that much of an anomaly?
Yeah. Who was he kidding? It was weird.
Didn’t mean Zizhen had the balls to investigate it, though. Or rather, didn’t mean he was insane enough to do so.
Lan Jingyi sighed. For a foolish moment, Zizhen thought he gave up until suddenly the boy exclaimed,
“What??? You haven’t eaten anything? Not even the soup?? Zizhen, what were you thinking!?”
If he survived this night, Zizhen was going to throttle him.
No, scratch that. If Zizhen didn’t survive, he was going to haunt him till the end of his days, and no amount of rituals could banish him away.
Sandu Shengshou glanced back at them with one baleful eye. “Louder, Lan Jingyi, and you might be able to rouse the whole demonic fleet of the mountain.”
“Sorry, Sect Leader Jiang,” Lan Jingyi replied readily, though his face said anything but. And then, as if he merely scolding Zizhen, he continued, slower but still loud enough for everyone to hear, “You know, the first rule of night hunt: don’t go with an empty stomach!”
Pretty sure there wasn’t any rule like that in Gusu Lan’s neurotic four thousands-ish rules.
“Now look, you’re starving and have nothing to eat. Young Master Jin, you don’t happen to have a pocket of dried fruits with you, do you?”
“The fuck do you think I am?! A walking food stall!?”
“Jin Ling! Language!”
“Sorry, Jiujiu.”
“Sizhui, do you bring some bread with you?”
“No, sorry,” and the boy really did sound apologetic. Did he not read Lan Jingyi’s mischief, or did he genuinely feel bad for Zizhen?
Or did he, for all that was good in him, was also curious of Sandu Shengshou, and silently approved Lan Jingyi’s method by pretending not to notice?
Yeah. That would be the most likely thing.
Lan Jingyi continued to make a fuss, bewailing Zizhen’s unfortunate fate until Zizhen was this close from snapping or shoving a fistful of snow into his big mouth, which was quite something, considering how he prided himself as being a non-violent character.
Before he did either of those things, however, a bundle of considerable size flung at him from the front, making a parabolic curve in the air before landing right into his waiting hands. He could feel the texture behind the wrapping cloth. Walnuts.
“Don’t bitch about food like an uncultured oaf! And share with your friends!”
Flushing with embarrassment, Zizhen stuttered a thank you, though admittedly it was worth the answer he got. So Sandu Shengshou DID keep a ransom under his robes too! Now what else did he keep there, and how did he do it?
He glanced at Lan Jingyi, who grinned at him, and Zizhen smiled too. Well. Maybe next time they were going to find out more about it.
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BONUS
Jiang Cheng entered the Hanshi with a gruff greeting and a signature scowl.
Lan Xichen put his book aside, smiling.
“How did it go?”
“Could be worse,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, taking off his outer robe. “Ouyang Zizhen has improved a lot, and he had mastered the 7th set of the Swift Sword technique, though he needs more confidence in attack moves. Lan Sizhui, well, no question about him, perfect as always—you have to give him a bigger challenge soon or he’ll burn out. Jin Ling is as reckless as ever, but he’s getting better at working with other people. You really need to pay attention to Lan Jingyi’s focus improvement—he’s almost as good as Lan Sizhui now, but he gets too excited and chaotic in the heat of battles.”
Lan Xichen smiled, rising from his seat to help Jiang Cheng took off his sword belt. “I see. I assure you we’ll provide them the necessary means to improve their skills.”
Jiang Cheng huffed as he let Lan Xichen stripped Sandu’s belt off and put it on the sword seating next to Shuoyue. “You better. I’ve talked to Jin Ling about his tutelage at Cloud Recesses, he might be sending a request for next year’s semester.”
A hum, a teasing ghostly caress on his arms. “We would be glad to welcome him. However,” Lan Xichen put his mouth right next to Jiang Cheng’s ear, his breath warm and teasing, “Right now I am only glad to welcome you. Your hands are so cold, Wanyin. How about a bath?”
Jiang Cheng shivered though his body was getting hotter. He wanted nothing more than to follow the other man’s suggestion, but there was one more thing he needed to do and Lan Xichen knew that.
“I have to unpack first.”
Lan Xichen chuckled. “Right, right. Of course.”
They went to the robe hanger and began to fish out the things out of it. Seven different kinds of potions and medicine. A thick roll of bandage. Three spare robes. Three kinds of emergency signal tools. Two daggers. A match wrapped in cloth, needle and thread, small packets of snacks, Yunmeng Jiang’s seal, Gusu Lan apprentice letters, a brush, a slab stone, and a sealed new scroll ….
“My. How do you manage to bring all of this?” Lan Xichen laughed. “And why so many?”
Jiang Cheng gave him a pointed look, though there wasn’t an actual menace in it. “Xichen. I raised a kid once. When you go through it, you’d know.”