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Jingyi would never say that the Cloud Recesses were boring.

For one, Lan Quiren had excellent hearing for a man his age, and would assign him copying the rules again. There were no direct rules against complaining, but it might fall under being careful with your words, being respectful, or perhaps being overly sad.

Jingyi wasn’t really sad about it, he was bored about it.

Still, it had been a long while since he expressed the sentiment, mostly because of Sizhui. For one, Sizhui wasn’t boring, and for another, Sizhui loved Cloud Recesses and would get sad when Jingyi complained.

Well, not sad. Disappointed, which was much, much worse.

Jingyi met Sizhui, who wasn’t Sizhui then yet, but was A-Yuan, just as Jingyi was A-Yi, when Hanguang-jun brought him to Jingyi’s Mom. A-Yuan had a fever and Mom was the best healer in Cloud Recesses, so it made sense.

It was not perhaps unfilial to realise later that it might not have been because she was the best - Mom herself would agree that title belonged to Lan Zhuang, who was perhaps the best in all four great sects - but because she was kind, and because she was not going to ask any questions about a strange child as long as the child needed her help.

Jingyi didn’t remember it all that well, he was quite little then, but he remembered that A-Yuan was even smaller than he was, and quiet during the day, and calling out for something, for someone, during the night, and then confused and unsure when he woke up. And he remembered how surprised Sizhui was every time Jingyi would bring him his toys, and that he would hug Jingyi every time and be very careful with them, even the ones Jingyi already broke beyond repair.

Which was most of them, usually to see what was inside.

When Mom deemed A-Yuan well enough to go to the children's hall, Zewu-jun came to pick him up. Next time Jingyi saw him it was in classes, wearing the pristine robes and the ribbon with much more grace than Jingyi ever managed or wanted to. They spent most afternoons together too, because Mother decided A-Yuan was “a good influence, actually” because as much as A-Yuan was behind in most classes, he was catching up fast, and then dragging Jingyi along with him. It was usually at Jingyi’s house, because A-Yuan lived with Zewu-jun, and moms “didn’t want to impose” which was a nice way of saying they thought Jingyi would probably break something, or a couple of things, and bother the clan leader.

They were not wrong, he supposed.

Jingyi remembered all that vaguely, but what he did remember pretty well was when they were- seven, maybe? A-Yuan moved to a different house, to stay with Hanguang-jun, who came back from seclusion around that time. Jingyi’s mothers were formally informed that Jingyi was welcome to visit any time because he was A-Yuan’s best friend and not a bother at all and he wondered if he could get Hanguang-jun to put it down in writing.

He thought that if he asked, Hanguang-jun just might do it, because Hanguang-jun was somehow- possibly- the coolest.

Of course he was, it was expected of the Second Jade of Lan. He was a second-ranked young master after only Zewu-jun, he was a war hero, and one of the most accomplished cultivators of their era. Everyone knew that, Jingyi knew that. But he was also not quite what Jingyi would have expected.

The rule about not speaking during the meals was never enforced in the jingshi. Hanguang-jun wouldn’t speak, as such, maybe occasionally offer a hum of agreement or disagreement, but he would never reprimand Jingyi for speaking. He would point out the rule, and then ignore Jingyi ignoring it, which was somehow actually hilarious. Sizhui didn’t speak much, but he would beam at Jingyi when he did, and offer an occasional prompt, which was all Jingyi needed, really.

The rule about three bowls per meal was not only ignored but willfully broken. On Hanguang-jun’s direct insistence, whenever he thought Sizhui had not eaten his full. Sizhui was polite to a fault and definitely smaller than most boys their age, and so Jingyi could put his full support behind this agenda, and if he got some more of the actually flavourful food, all the better for him, everyone was winning.

On the days they didn’t have classes in the morning, Hanguang-jun took A-Yuan to feed the bunnies, and Jingyi was welcome to join them if he had already done his morning chores. Mother chalked up his newfound diligence to A-Yuan’s ‘good influence’ and she wasn’t exactly wrong so he didn’t point out that it was the bunnies more than anything else.

They always brought a lot more carrots than necessary for the bunnies, and A-Yuan and Jingyi snacked on them while the rabbits crawled all over, and Hanguang-jun sometimes took out the guqin, a gentle melody echoing in the meadow. It was perhaps the only time when Jingyi could make himself sit still without fidgeting, without feeling like he was going to crawl out of his skin if he stayed unmoving for one more moment. Later, when he needed to be still, he would draw on this, think back to the melody and the meadow and the bunnies and A-Yuan. It always helped.

Sometime then, as the spring turned to summer turned to fall, A-Yuan started to call Hanguang-jun Father. Jingyi barely noticed, it felt as natural as anything else, but the teachers certainly did, and they did not like it at all. It was perhaps the only time Sizhui ever got in trouble with them, or with anyone at all.

He was a little behind on some things when he came to the Cloud Recesses, but he was smart, probably smarter than anyone else Jingyi knew, and he caught up fast. And it wasn’t like he didn’t know anything because sometimes he would recall things they weren’t taught yet, random things that he couldn’t say where he had learned. And he worked the hardest, devouring books they were assigned and the ones they weren’t. He was curious about things in the same way Jingyi was, not satisfied with the often dismissive answers they would get.

Soon enough Sizhui would stop asking questions he knew teachers would find irrelevant and made lists of them instead, to ask Hanguang-jun about later. Jingyi started doing the same thing, and not only did he get much better answers this way, but also his teachers were marvelling at how much his disruptive behaviour improved in class. Jingyi could tell them why, but he didn’t bother.

What he did bother to do was to shamelessly tattle on the teachers to Hanguang-jun, after they scolded A-Yuan for presuming a familial relationship with the Second Jade.

Jingyi did not know what exactly went down after that, but he remembered three distinctive things. First, his mother, who was not born to the Lan sect, came home laughing so hard she cried, and then she hugged Jingyi and told him he was apparently invited to sleep over at A-Yuan’s father’s house. His mom, who was a Lan to her bones, was in a state of shock for a week. Second, A-Yuan gave him half of the dragon beard candy hoard Hanguang-jun brought him from Caiyi town, and they both ate much too much and came down with a stomach ache. And third, not a single person commented on A-Yuan’s address to Hanguang-jun again, though some of them would get a slightly haunted look when they heard it.

Sizhui - already officially Lan Sizhui then - dropped it himself when they were twelve and Hanguang-jun started to teach some of their classes. By that time nobody would have made a peep if he didn’t, probably, because by that time Sizhui had a (well-earned) reputation as a most decorous young man in Cloud Recesses, Nay, Perhaps, The World, and the fact that he insisted on using his father’s title to be respectful was just another thing he was praised for.

Jingyi had a sneaking suspicion that Sizhui’s reputation was so solid that he probably could fart in the great hall and be praised for it because everyone would be so sure it was some kind of a tradition they overlooked, but Sizhui refused to test that theory for him.

The classes were great - not because of the subjects themselves, and not because there was less work; there was more than in any other class save for Lan Qiren’s, and Hanguang-jun was almost as stern when it came to the classroom rules and not at all stingy with the silencing charm, Jingyi was very much aware personally - but mostly because when Hanguang-jun’s asked if there were any questions he really meant any questions, and he would answer them succinctly and thoughtfully, never dismissing them. Because they were a bunch of twelve year olds who just were given a prime opportunity and a permission to be troublesome, they spent about a month one-upping one another trying to come up with the most ridiculous, sacrilegious, outrageous questions. They spent hours in the library to come up with them which, in hindsight, Jingyi found absolutely hilarious and extremely well played on the part of Hanguang-jun. They brought up obscure monsters, unorthodox theories, and long-forgotten clan scandals. They brought up things that would probably cause Lan Qiren to have a spontaneous qi deviation if he ever knew.

Hanguang-jun didn’t even blink at them, just offered straightforward, flat answers, and occasionally hmmed and said it required further consideration and then came back the next day with their answers.

The closest anyone got to a reaction was when they were studying lure flags and trapping arrays, and someone found out the designs were made by the Yiling Patriarch. Fine, Jingyi found out, but he was not the one to ask the question, Lan Feng did. Hanguang-jun gave them a comprehensive overview of lure flags usefulness and application, a brief rundown of when they were introduced, and confirmed they were indeed created by Wei Ying. He then assigned them some reading on the Sunshot Campaign and an essay on the Yiling Patriarch designs adopted widely by the cultivation world and ended the lesson early so they’d have time for research.

Nobody seemed to notice anything amiss, not even when the next day’s lesson was taught by Zewu-jun, because Hanguang-jun went on a night hunt, but Jingyi was by then semi-proficient in reading Hanguang-jun’s non-expressions, and in any case, he was an expert in reading Sizhui, and there was something going on for sure.

Not to mention, he couldn’t believe no one was freaking out about the fact that Hanguang-jun called the Yiling Patriarch Wei Ying.

“They were friends,” Sizhui told him, and that wasn’t the point, people knew that, everybody knew that. But it was always… a story. It was all stories, and the Zewu-jun or Hanguang-jun they knew were only in theory the same people who fought in the Sunshot Campaign or opposed the Yiling Patriarch.

That story was simple. They were peers when Wei Wuxian studied here, and then allies during the war, and then enemies when the Yiling Patriarch chose the crooked path. Hanguang-jun fought him in the Nightless City, before Sandu Shenghou killed him.

Jingyi took that essay assignment more seriously than he had ever taken any homework in his life, except for the sword practice maybe, because they just started to learn how to fly on them. They spent a few days holed up in the library with Sizhui, who never needed to be asked twice to help anyone with homework, and who also was a little too serious and a little too intent on this particular essay.

There were thin volumes in the library, unremarkable but for the fact that they were all written by the same hand, meticulously so, on cultivation methods without direct spiritual energy. Talismans and arrays, nothing unorthodox in the slightest, and things that so many cultivators used these days, but all created no more than a decade ago or so, a lot of them during the war.

Sizhui had copies of these of his own, passed down from Hanguang-jun, but not as neat and clean. Some of them were written in a different hand, words scratched out and rewritten, stains and doodles in the margin. And then annotated in the same careful script as the ones in the library, and carefully bound for preservation.

Hanguang-jun gave him the highest marks he had ever gotten for the essay, and handed it back with a short, coveted “good work,” and Jingyi wanted to ask, so badly, what really happened to the Yiling Patriarch. Were they friends? Did they really fight at all? How did Wei Wuxian die?

He didn’t ask, but he did the next best thing, which was to go talk to his mothers. He couldn’t believe he didn’t think of that earlier, after all, if Wei Wuxian was here, in Cloud Recesses, before Jingyi was born, so were his moms. The Yiling Patriarch was a story but they knew him.

“Not that well,” mom told him apologetically, but with an air of relief. “I was already studying with Lan Zhuang when the guest lectures took place.”

“I knew his sister, a little,” mother offered. That would be- the late Madam Jin, Jingyi remembered. “But they were all younger than us, we didn’t have classes together.”

It was not quite what he asked, and he complained to Sizhui about it, loudly. Sizhui just smiled, tucking his hands into his sleeves. “I think- I think Father has his reasons not to talk about it.”

“Your father doesn’t need a reason not to talk about things,” Jingyi grumbled, and then raised his hands defensively when a gently chiding “Jingyi,” came in on cue. “Aren’t you just a bit curious? What really happened?”

He really was an expert in reading Sizhui, and he could see the way his expression flickered, and thought, he was just as curious, maybe more. He maybe even knew something that Jingyi didn’t, and it only made him more curious. “No,” he lied, and he knew Jingyi knew he was lying. He held Jingyi’s gaze, daring and pleading at the same time, and Jingyi was wasting a prime opportunity to tell Lan Sizhui that lying was forbidden in the Cloud Recesses, an occasion such as this would not come again soon.

“Yeah, okay. I think I’ve had enough of studying for today. Want to go feed the rabbits?” he asked instead, and tried not to show he noticed the profound relief on Sizhui’s face. They went to feed the rabbits, and then Jingyi smuggled two into the dorms because they were just too cute to leave in the meadow, and they got in serious trouble after they chewed through Lan Shirong’s robes, but Jingyi supposed he was due for another copying of the rules, it has been a while.

After that, their classes included a little more of what Jingyi was pretty sure were Wei Wuxian’s designs, some of them skidding the line of orthodoxy. He was also pretty sure most of the students, who did not go on a deep library dive and did not copy the books meticulously for their own purposes, didn’t realise. He was also pretty sure Hanguang-jun knew that he knew, and didn’t say anything.

It felt pretty cool, to be honest, to have something of a secret shared with Hanguang-jun.

When they were fourteen, about two years before it was customary, Hanguang-jun started to take them on some of his night hunts, in groups of three or four, chaperoned by one of the older disciples. Well, not night hunts precisely, they never actually went hunting, but they went with him to the towns and villages and were tasked with interviewing people and gathering information. It was all terribly exciting, even without the actual hunting, and to be honest, Jingyi was as excited as he was terrified about the actual hunting.

He was not the best at talking to the people, sometimes too eager to learn everything and sometimes a little thoughtless in giving his opinion on what was happening. He knew that, but his mouth tended to run off without an input from his brain. Sizhui seemed amused most of the time, and as long as Sizhui was amused he knew he didn’t go too far. If he edged too close to the too far, Sizhui would step in seamlessly, earnest and kind. Jingyi came to rely on that a little too much perhaps, but people liked Sizhui, and tended to trust him. Jingyi usually got something between amusement and annoyance, depending on the circumstances. He was working on that.

They were writing reports after each trip, outlining the information they got from people, and speculating about what manner of a spirit or creature was to be encountered, and then contrasting it with Hanguang-jun’s report. The essays went to Lan Qiren, who initially seemed extremely dubious about the whole idea, but seemed to warm up to it pretty soon, even running a discussion class following the hunts. It was a lot of additional homework.

But the trips themselves were the most fun Jingyi has ever had in his life. The groups became sort of fixed after a while, and usually Jingyi was with Sizhui, obviously, and Lan Shirong and Lan Tung, chaperoned by Lan Xiu. Which was actually the best thing, because Lan Xiu was down like clockwork every night at nine sharp, and they were mostly left to their own devices once Hanguang-jun left.

Of course, they were not allowed to leave the inn, on the threat of never going on another trip again, and on the even worse threat of disappointing Hanguang-jun. And with Sizhui and Shirong both there, the rules were going to be respected, or else. (Or else they were going to frown and pout at Jingyi, and Jingyi could not take that.)

The thing was, the curfew rules were suspended if on a night hunt, and they were officially on a night hunt. The rules about meals were not rigorous when outside of Cloud Recesses. And usually before the nightfall they already had the run of the town and could stock up on local delicacies and candy. Often they would also buy books, and ink, and talisman paper, and paints, and guqin strings, and perhaps some local game, and they would hole up in their rooms, talking deep into the night. It was just the best.

By the time their actual first night hunt came about, they were much less anxious about it than they would have been otherwise. It felt like one of the regular trips, except that after the information gathering part, which they had become pretty decent at, Hanguang-jun led them out of the town and beyond the river, and let them mostly figure it out by themselves, only stepping in after they had the spirit trapped in the array, helping them dispatch it.

They didn’t get back to the Cloud Recesses immediately, but rather back into town and into the inn, and Hanguang-jun let them stay up till well past midnight, and indulgently listened to them recount the whole thing, even though he obviously has been there with them. Jingyi didn’t really know what it felt like to drink alcohol, but from some description he assumed that it was a similar kind of gleeful lightheadedness that lasted him for well over a week.

Not every night hunt they went on afterwards was with Hanguang-jun, but those were Jingyi’s favourite, because for one, they were usually the most interesting, the most challenging, and for another, they usually kept with the tradition of staying out for one more night, discussing everything that happened, and what they learned from it, and what they did well, and what they could do better. It was nothing they couldn’t do in the classroom after coming back, but it would just not be the same.

Their first solo hunt was in the early winter, a mountain spirit causing trouble on a trade route. They had dealt with similar spirits before, it was deemed suitable for a group of juniors. The only remarkable thing was that Hanguang-jun was not there at all; he followed something to Yunmeng, they were not privy to the details. They had Lan Xiu staying nearby, in case of emergency, and they have been given flares that Lan Shirong obsessively checked every couple of minutes.

It didn’t go without a hitch exactly; Sizhui had been thrown against a tree hard enough to black out for a couple of seconds, Lan Liqiu ended up with a black eye, and Jingyi lost his sword for a bit there, and was not as successful in immediately wrestling it back as he wanted to be. But overall, they didn’t do half bad.

Hanguang-jun was still away when they got back, and though they have been in the dormitories for the past year already, Zewu-jun gave Sizhui and Jingyi the permission to stay in the jingshi. “I believe you would have kept everyone up past curfew otherwise,” he told them knowingly, and he was not wrong. Shirong was invited as well, but he politely declined, yawning already, and it would not have been proper for Liqiu to stay, so it was just the two of them.

And that was probably a good thing, in hindsight. Because they did stay up pretty late, way past curfew. They almost turned in after midnight, but somehow they got into a long argument about fierce corpses and the theoretical limits of their intelligence. Sizhui brought up a theory he couldn’t for the life of him remember the source of, and they scoured Hanguang-jun’s personal library for it, and seriously contemplated a night trip to the sect library. They were still arguing in the small hours of the morning, when Hanguang-jun came back, or, more accurately, stumbled back in, looking absolutely dreadful. Jingyi had never before really seen him with a hair out of place or with robes anything less than pristine for longer than it took to snap his fingers.

“Father?” Sizhui asked, voice slipping, and it was as if Hanguang-jun only noticed them then, as he leant against the doorframe, looking exhausted.

“I’m fine,” he offered, straightening up instantly, and clearly lying through his teeth in Cloud Recesses. He moved to sit down, back straight and face impassive, starting to heat the water up for tea. “It went well?”

Jingyi caught Sizhui’s eyes, seeing his own concern mirrored there, and something else, a sadness he couldn’t quite guess at, and shrugged helplessly before turning back to Hanguang-jun. “It did,” he confirmed, for once lost for words.

Sizhui stepped in, with a rambling account, drawing Jingyi in to fill in the gaps, and a little awkwardly they recounted the whole thing, talking over one another as Hanguang-jun poured tea and nodded in the right places. He hummed when they were done, looking between them. “Well done,” was all he said, but Jingyi felt himself beaming in response, warmth spreading in his chest. “Rest. You have classes tomorrow,” he added, not quite sternly, more concern than anything else.

Jingyi commented that he should be going home, but got a short disapproving ‘mn’ from Hanguang-jun, who looked at Sizhui for a moment, with Sizhui nodding in response, pulling on Jingyi’s sleeve to make him move. Jingyi was semi-proficient in reading Hanguang-jun, maybe, but Sizhui was an expert, and he insisted that Jingyi take his old bed while he took Hanguang-jun’s.

“He’s not going to sleep anyway,” he muttered in response to Jingyi’s protests, and he was proven right when Hanguang-jun finished his tea and left the jingshi, without saying anything more. Jingyi gave in, taking off his outer robe and sliding under the cover, pretty sure he was not going to fall asleep anyway, but at the same time too tired to argue.

He found himself actually almost drifting off when the soft sound of guqin drifted from the garden.

“Inquiry?” he asked, sitting up, looking towards Sizhui, who didn’t move, but was clearly awake. Jingyi tried to listen for the questions, but he never trained in guqin, he had neither patience nor temperament for it, and he only could recognise the simplest of questions - who are you? who hurt you? - none of which were being played now.

Sizhui was silent for a long moment, as if listening too. “He- used to play it more often,” he finally offered. “Almost every night, for a while. Rarely now. Sometimes when he comes back from night hunts, usually the ones he takes alone.”

“What is he asking? You know I’m not good at this,” he said, after the question was met with silence.

“He’s- not asking much, anymore. He used to. Now it’s- he’s just talking.”

Jingyi didn’t know if he wanted to ask. If he should. He listened instead. He still didn’t know the words, but it sounded- mournful. Inquiry usually did, he supposed. But not quite like this.

“Do you know- for whom-”

“No,” Sizhui said quickly.

“Lying is forbidden,” Jingyi pointed out and Sizhui chuckled, not with amusement but with warmth. He still didn’t sit up, Jingyi couldn’t tell if he was looking at the ceiling or if his eyes were closed.

“I don’t know. I have my suspicions, perhaps. I used to think- maybe my mother or other father, whoever they were. Sometimes I think- someone else.”

“Did you ask?” Jingyi probably wouldn’t have dared, but Jingyi wasn’t Sizhui.

“Not- really,” Sizhui admitted. Jingyi huffed incredulously, because he was pretty sure Hanguang-jun wouldn’t have dismissed Sizhui, and it was clear that Sizhui wanted to know, so why- “It makes him sad.” He said it quietly, like he wasn’t sure he should say it at all, even in the quiet of the night, even to Jingyi.

And what was Jingyi supposed to say to that. It was Hanguang-jun, who usually seemed untouchable and unflappable, who handled their outrageous questions and Jingyi’s frankly disrespectful (he’s been told on many occasions) rants with barely a frown. Would a question like this even bother him, would anything.

But he could hear the sounds of Inquiry drift through the garden, and he might not know what they meant but every tug on the strings left him with a sinking feeling of- loss.

He felt- homesick. Like the first night they moved to the dormitories and he found himself missing his moms in a way he didn’t expect at all, awake deep into the night and unsure of what exactly he was missing. They were just on the other side of Cloud Recesses, he would see them all the time, and yet. The music felt like that, but worse.

“Sizhui,” he said into the darkness, getting an inquisitive hum in return. “You won’t leave Cloud Recesses, right?”

“Where would I go?” Sizhui asked immediately and incredulously, and that was a little bit comforting. Jingyi shrugged.

“I don’t know. People leave. My second uncle left last month.”

“Your second uncle married into the Nie sect. I don’t think I’ll be doing that,” Sizhui told him, sounding bemused. He was probably right about that. If Sizhui was to ever marry, Jingyi thought, whoever he was marrying would have to come to the Cloud Recesses. It was not official yet, and Jingyi only knew because he shamelessly eavesdropped on his mom and Lan Zhuang, but apparently Zewu-jun politely declined the matchmakers and was unlikely to try for an heir. Which meant it would most likely go to Hanguang-jun, and then- well, then to Sizhui.

“I don’t know, the swords are pretty impressive,” Jingyi offered, a little too late but with feeling, and it earned him an amused and scandalised “Jingyi!” all the same. “What? You’ve seen them!”

He was pretty sure Sizhui was rolling his eyes, but he refrained from saying anything. Jingyi did too, listening to the faint music until he found himself drifting off.

Over the next few months they went on a couple more night hunts, usually with Hanguang-jun as back-up, sometimes with Lan Xiu again, and once with Zewu-jun, which was the one that went badly enough to feel like a fuck-up but not badly enough that Jingyi didn’t enjoy the incredible show of the First Jade of Lan in combat mode.

The thing was, Hanguang-jun always looked like he was perfectly willing to stab anyone who’d step out of line. Lan Xichen, in turn, looked like he was going to offer you some tea in a trying time.

Jingyi made a mistake of saying it out loud, and Zewu-jun smiled at him, wiping off blood and dark goop from Shuoyue. “I could actually go for some tea,” he offered politely and stepped over the bodies and Jingyi had to collect his jaw from the ground and ignore the fact that Sizhui was very kindly using his sleeve to cover the fact that he was laughing at him.

A few weeks after that was the discussion conference in Lotus Pier. Jingyi was not invited to go along, thank fuck, but Sizhui was to accompany Hanguang-jun. Of course, that also meant that all the classes for two weeks were taken over Lan Qiren, and Jingyi loved the man, he really did, the wonderfully cranky walking encyclopedia that he was, but he was not ready for a concentrated dose of Lan Qiren’s lectures every damn day. Lan Qiren was also not prepared for a prolonged exposure to Jingyi, especially Jingyi without Sizhui to reign in his more… interesting ideas. Jingyi was going to be copying rules for months, but on the other hand, Lan Qiren was probably to look carefully before he sat down for a long while.

Everyone was probably equally relieved when Hanguang-jun, Zewu-jun, and Sizhui got back. Zewu-jun seemed unruffled, but Hanguang-jun had a look about him as if someone pissed in his tea at the conference. Sizhui was clearly happy to be back, but also had a weary, furrowed-brow look to him.

“Hanguang-jun does not get on well with Sect Leader Jiang,” was all he said, like that was going to be enough and like he didn’t think Jingyi was going to channel all his energy to pestering him until he knew everything.

“It wasn’t anything in particular,” Sizhui said, frowning, like he was trying to find words. “They didn’t do anything. Just… Their conversations were very hostile.”

“Like they were going to start fighting?”

Sizhui hummed in thought. “Uhm. Remember when we were hunting in Moling and ran into the Su cultivators?”

“Yeah? Oh!” Jingyi nodded. That was indeed hostile. Hanguang-jun looked like he had a stubborn piece of shit stuck to his shoe every time Su She opened his mouth.

“It was a bit like that, but… this time Father didn’t try to leave the conversation as soon as possible. He was- he was definitely antagonising Sect Leader Jiang. On purpose.”

Jingyi considered it for a long moment. “What was Sect Leader Jiang doing?”

Sizhui frowned. “Nothing he was saying was impolite in itself.”

“But?”

“But the way he was saying it, it was- They definitely dislike each other very much,” he concluded. What Jingyi got from it was that they were apparently mortal enemies and it was a wonder Sect Leader Jiang was still walking the earth.

“I can’t believe I missed it,” he whined, and Sizhui gave him a look that was half pitying and half fond.

Turned out, he didn’t need to be so disappointed, because a few months later they were with Hanguang-jun, tracking what turned out to be an actual real demonic cultivator - not a very good one, but still - all the way from south of Gusu to Yiling.

A little outside of Yiling, close to where the trail of corpses ended, they ran into a group of Jiang disciples, apparently on the same hunt. Considering they were much closer to the Jiang sect’s area of influence than Gusu Lan’s, it would have been poth impolite and impolitic not to join forces. They’ve searched the forest for half the day, looking to pick up the trail again, Hanguang-jun growing colder and more monosyllabic with every passing hour, until it was decided that they would go back to Yiling for the night and pick the search up in the morning, perhaps after talking to the people in town.

In town, it turned out that the Jiang disciples sent for reinforcements, and they arrived at the inn, led by none other than Sect Leader Jiang. There was a heavy commotion when they did, because apparently the Lan disciples have already taken up all the available rooms, and the innkeeper is torn between asking Hanguang-jun to surrender some of them or telling Sandu Shengshou that there was no place for the Jiang sect.

Hanguang-jun just watched the chaos with something almost like satisfaction, and Jingyi was honestly delighted. That was, until he saw that Sizhui was uncomfortable, and stepping forward with a deep bow to his father, Sect Leader Jiang, and then the Jiang disciples. “If I may,” he offered, addressing the disciple leading the group on the hunt before. Jingyi didn’t even remember his name, but Sizhui clearly did. “If Jiang Fa would allow this disciple’s offer, Lan Shirong and the others are staying in the biggest room. There would be plenty of space for Jiang Fa and his group, and me and Lan Jingyi can join as well. We would be honoured then to offer our room to Sect Leader Jiang.”

Jiang Fa bowed. “This disciple is willing,” he offered, and the innkeeper looked ready to faint from relief.

“Mn,” Hanguang-jun said, sounding displeased, but simply nodded when Sizhui turned to him. Jingyi glanced at Sect Leader Jiang, who was watching all this impassively, steely gaze moving between Hanguang-jun and Sizhui.

“I always forget,” he said finally, and Jingyi could swear he could smell ozone in the air somehow, “that Gusu Lan are known for their courtesy.”

Jingyi couldn’t figure out if it was meant as an insult or compliment, and to be honest, he thought it was both. Hanguang-jun didn’t acknowledge it in any way. Sizhui looked pained.

“We’re here to help,” Jingyi grumbled, because Sizhui looked pained, but apparently it was not necessarily very helpful actually, and Sizhui gave him a Look.

Sandu Shengshou barely looked his way, eyes fixed on Hanguang-jun, and yeah, that was all awkward, Jingyi definitely could see what Sizhui had meant. And also kind of amazing.

“I would expect nothing less from Hanguang-jun. It is far from the first time you decide to grace us with your presence near Yunmeng. I have not thanked you for last winter, I believe. Hopefully it will turn out better this time.”

Sizhui was studiously not looking at him, but Jingyi frowned, thinking it over. Last winter, was it when Hanguang-jun left before their first hunt and- Whatever it was, Sandu Shengshou looked satisfied with himself, and Hanguang-jun… was clenching his fist around Bichen and looking like he was honestly contemplating murder.

So, like, slightly more frowning than usual, but Jingyi was still in awe.

Sizhui stepped forward again. “If this disciple can help with room arrangements,” he addressed Jiang Fa, who breathed in relief.

“We would be most grateful,” he said quickly, turning to bow at Sect Leader Jiang and Hanguang-jun, and then stepping away to talk to the innkeeper, Sizhui following suit. Jingyi reluctantly moved to follow them, looking behind his shoulder to see Sandu Shengshou watch Sizhui with a thoughtful frown, and Hanguang-jun scowl at him in turn.

A couple beats, and Sect Leader Jiang moved to sit at one of the tables, his other disciples immediately joining him in silence, waiting for the meal. Hanguang-jun moved to a different table, as far away as possible, and sat down gracefully, completely ignoring everyone else.

Jingyi followed Sizhui upstairs to move their things out of the room. “What was that,” he hissed. “Is that how they were at the conference?”

“Worse,” Sizhui muttered under his breath, and Jiang Fa snickered, then covered his mouth with his sleeve. Jingyi peered at him suspiciously.

“Do you know what’s going on?” he demanded, and Sizhui took a moment from collecting their things - mostly Jingyi’s things, because Sizhui’s were mostly packed in the qiankun bag while Jingyi’s were strewn over the room - to give him a reproachful look that Jingyi promptly ignored.

Jiang Fa looked at him. “No,” he lied.

Jingyi narrowed his eyes at him. “Is lying permitted in Lotus Pier?” he asked and Jiang Fa took a moment to consider it.

“Sometimes encouraged,” he said, and Jingyi startled into a laugh and felt slightly disloyal to Hanguang-jun about it. Jiang Fa bowed to Sizhui. “Lan-gongzi. It might be more… efficient to split into two groups tomorrow.”

Yeah, efficient was a word for it, Jingyi supposed. Sizhui nodded sharply. “I will talk to Hanguang-jun,” he agreed. “It would make sense to cover as much territory as possible.”

Jingyi had to say, he was just slightly disappointed, but also relieved. Still, he didn’t miss on too much hilarity, because the breakfast was still extremely interesting - taken in two remote corners of the inn, even though almost all the tables were free. He still could not guess the source of the animosity, however, and the day brought no new understanding.

“You are enjoying it too much,” Sizhui told him as they were leaving the town. He sounded slightly amused himself, so Jingyi just grinned at him.

“Aren’t you curious what this is really about? I’ve never seen Hanguang-jun hold a grudge like that,” he muttered under his breath. “Do you think- Do you think they used to-” he raised his eyebrows at Sizhui, who rolled his eyes, but Jiang Fa, who was walking behind them, stumbled and sputtered. Jingyi narrowed his eyes at him. “Yes? No? What’s your take?”

“No,” he said, sounding mortified, and Jingyi hummed under his breath, because that meant he did know, or at least thought he knew. Jingyi was going to get to the bottom of this sooner or later.

Unfortunately they were besieged by fierce corpses before he could explore the subject, and before they could all even follow the plan to split. It seemed that the demonic cultivator knew they were looking for him and decided to save them some time. Fortunately, his fierce corpses were particularly stupid and, frankly, kind of insultingly easy to kill.

The real battle took place after that, over who was going to question the man. Jingyi was tasked, with the others, to search the perimeter to make sure nothing dangerous was left behind, while Sizhui and Jiang Fa tried in vain to deescalate the situation. Jingyi caught strands of the conversation - well, shouting match - even from the distance. He got back to Gusu?! and useless search and well over ten years and, particularly loudly, Jiang Wanyin! Interesting, he thought, as the voices subsided and Hanguang-jun marched out of the clearing with an expression like a thunderstorm.

The Jiang Sect Leader looked just as furious, despite seemingly having won the argument. Jingyi started to make his way back slowly, watching as Sizhui said something that made the scowl slowly fade away as Sandu Shengshou nodded. He turned to tell Jiang Fa something, and then Sizhui was bowing. “Sect Leader Jiang is very generous,” Jingyi heard Sizhui say, as politely and earnestly as only Sizhui could.

With that, Sizhui walked away, nodding at Jingyi to follow and calling everyone else to do the same. Jingyi chanced looking back, quickly. “What were you talking about?”

“Sect Leader Jiang agreed to have Jiang Fa send us a copy of everything they learned. I thought this could be very beneficial for all of us who fought today, to study further.”

It probably would be. It would also ensure that Hanguang-jun knew what Sect Leader Jiang learned too, without them having to come in contact about it. Sect Leader Jiang seemed very… accommodating, all of a sudden. Could just be that Sizhui’s particular brand of earnest politeness worked on everyone, but also in light of Jingyi’s new favourite theory, it made sense. Sect Leader Jiang was furious around Hanguang-jun, passionately so, and softened around the man’s son, who many said looked just like him…

“I still think they used to-”

“Jingyi,” Sizhui sighed, looking pained. “Jingyi, no.” Like that had ever worked.

The next time Jingyi had the chance to see Hanguang-jun and Sect Leader Jiang in the same place at the same time was at the Dafan mountain, and at first he was a little preoccupied, and then his theory was crumbling fast, because Hanguang-jun’s attention was all on Mo Xanyu, and that was definitely not something Jingyi saw coming.

To be truthful, he also didn’t see anything that happened after that coming either, but neither did anyone else, because who could have predicted the Yiling Patriarch coming back to life and uncovering the murder of the Red Blade Master and the many sins of the Chief Cultivator? No one. No one could.

Jingyi was back in Cloud Recesses, and still reeling from the whole thing.

He was not the only one. Sizhui left on some journey with the Ghost General, which, frankly, was just a little bit terrifying. The Ghost General seemed like a perfectly nice man-corpse, but he was still the Ghost General. Jingyi would have probably insisted on going with, at least, but he didn’t have the chance.

He was just a little bit sour about that.

Zewu-jun… Zewu-jun went into seclusion, and the entire Cloud Recesses was proving that no rule was broken as often as the one about gossip, because officially nobody was talking about that, but everyone was absolutely talking about that. Even Jingyi’s own mother tried to subtly question him about what happened in the Guanyin temple, even though Jingyi was nowhere near it until well after the whole thing.

Jingyi did go to the discussion conference in Lanling, because he was at the Burial Mounds and the Yi City and the Mo Manor, and he gave his statements at best as he could, and honestly, what was Sizhui doing leaving him to this? Senior Wei found him afterwards, hiding his amusement very badly.

“That was a- unique way of phrasing it,” he told Jingyi.

“Phrasing what?”

“Everything,” he laughed and clasped a hand on Jingyi’s shoulder. “I think I’m skipping the rest of the day of this and heading into town,” he offered, and it took Jingyi a moment to figure out it was an invitation.

“Why?”

“Because they are now going to have to decide who the next Chief Cultivator is going to be, and if I’m not careful and don’t make myself scarce, they just might decide it’s going to be me.”

Jingyi gaped at him for much too long. This kind of thing was precisely why he thought Mo Xanyu was really crazy, honestly. “It’s not going to be you,” he told him, but he wasn’t completely sure and that was just terrifying.

“Of course not,” Senior Wei laughed, stepping back. “Can you imagine? But, I can’t stay for another round of these arguments, so I’m going into town. And you’re my second favourite Lan in attendance, so I might not be opposed to some company.”

Jingyi counted in his head. Sizhui wasn’t here, and neither was Zewu-jun. Lan Qiren was probably not high on Senior Wei’s list. Yeah, that checked out. “I’ll see if Zizhen wants to come along.”

“Good man,” Senior Wei nodded and walked a little down the steps, stopping on the middle landing, whistling to himself as he twirled his flute. The Jin guards at their posts were giving him a wary look that he seemed to pay no attention to.

Zizhen, it turned out, very much wanted to come along, eager to get away for a while. They spend a rather pleasant afternoon exploring the town. Jingyi had only been in Lanling a few times before, but always on a way to or back from a night hunt, where it was just about finding a room for the night.

Senior Wei flitted from one stand to another, intent on trying every local food imaginable and charming the shopkeepers into free samples. He did buy a lot of it anyway, and insisted Jingyi and Zizhen try it. They did, with extreme caution, the memory of the congee from hell still haunting them, but it was all pretty good. Senior Wei, of course, deemed it too bland but passable. He did also buy a lot of dragon beard candy, and a ceramic bunny figurine, shrugging shamelessly at Jingyi’s look. “It’s for Hanguang-jun.”

“You’re paying for his gifts with his own money?” he asked, because the money pouch was familiar enough.

“I don’t have my own money, I was dead for sixteen years,” Senior Wei offered, which was perhaps reasonable, but still. “Come on, I think I remember they had good pot stickers here. Granted, that was like twenty years ago. Let’s try them.” They sat down by the shop, and the pot stickers were indeed pretty good.

“I wonder how many people here actually know what’s going on,” Zizhen offered quietly. “You know, with Jin Guangyao…”

“They will probably know by tomorrow, or the next day at least. I’d say the discussion on the Jin sect will last them a day,” Senior Way said and hummed to himself. “It will be Jin Ling, of course.”

“Dad says he’s too young,” Zizhen offered and Jingyi supposed he wasn’t really wrong. But Jin Guangyao didn’t have children, and in any case, they probably would not allow for that anyway, and the Young Mistress was the only direct descendant of Jin Guangshan. Acknowledged one, at least. “The minor sects will call on the Jin Sect to appoint a regent.”

Senior Wei stretched his legs, leaning back on his elbows. “Are the minor sects prepared to fight Jiang Cheng on that?”

“That’s the other thing. I’ve heard Dad and Sect Leader Yao talk, they think Sect Leader Jiang will have too much influence on Jin Ling if he becomes a Sect Leader. Sect Leader Yao is especially worried, his clan is close to Yunmeng and the Jiang sect has been already steadily expanding.”

Senior Wei waved his hand dismissively. “Jiang Cheng doesn’t give a fuck about Yao’s territory. And, frankly, one might point out that he is less likely to shift the balance between the major sects if he’s invested in securing Jin Ling’s position.”

“I should probably point that out to Dad,” Zizhen muttered. “In Sect Leader Yao’s presence?”

“Might be a good idea. Perhaps might also mention that the Yiling Laozu is very much in favour of maintaining the balance.”

“You’re going to play that card?” Jingyi asked incredulously and Senior Wei grinned at him.

“I have so very few cards to play, why would I not?”

Jingyi sincerely doubted that first part, but chose not to say anything, just peer at him suspiciously, which made Senior Wei laugh.

“You look like you need the bathroom, Jingyi.”

Jingyi nodded solemnly. “To be honest, I do, that was a lot of food. And we should probably be getting back,” he said, albeit somewhat reluctantly, and then didn’t move to follow his words at all.

“Speaking of, you’re heading back to Cloud Recesses next?” Senior Wei asked and he nodded.

“Probably, unless there’s a night hunt. Aren’t you?” he asked suspiciously, because he kind of assumed, considering how he and Hanguang-jun were going about it. They were not subtle even before Jingyi knew Mo Xanyu was Wei Wuxian.

Honestly, he couldn’t believe he thought Hanguang-jun and Sect Leader Jiang… he apparently had way too much faith in Hanguang-jun being discrete, because that was very much not the case it turned out.

“For a bit,” Senior Wei agreed. Jingyi gave him a look, and Senior Wei stared right back. “I have so many people upon whose hospitality I can now presume. It would be a crime to waste it. And might need to start to figure out the money thing, because probably I should not presume on Lan Zhan as much.”

“I don’t think he minds your presuming,” Jingyi muttered under his breath. He could almost hear Sizhui’s exasperated voice in his head, but Sizhui was not there. It didn’t seem like Senior Wei heard him though. Zizhen did, and was hiding a laugh behind his sleeve.

“In any case,” Senior Wei continued, “if your night hunting takes you back here, I’m sure you could also presume on the Jin sect hospitality.”

Jingyi gave him a look. “Why don’t you just say what you want to say?”

Senior Wei rubbed his nose, peering at him for a moment. “You have a very suspicious mind, Jingyi.”

He considered it carefully. “Thank you,” he decided, getting a quick laugh before Senior Wei nodded at him.

“Very well. You made a decent team, all of you. In the Yi city, and afterwards. It might be useful to keep in touch. The watchtowers and the inter-sect cooperation is all well and good, but there was a point between the guest lectures the sects used to have.”

Sizhui would agree, Jingyi thought, and nodded. “Yeah, alright. The parts that weren’t absolutely fucking terrifying were actually kind of fun. We could invite the Young Mistress to the next night hunt we have in the area. Zizhen, you’re in?”

“If I’m around, for sure.”

Jingyi looked at Senior Wei expectantly. “Me?” he asked after a moment, pointing to himself. “I thought you thought I was crazy.”

“I still think that. But you got us through all that, didn’t you?” Jingyi pointed out, and couldn’t help but grin back at the wide smile he got in response.

They eventually got back to the Koi Tower, just in time to hear that Hanguang-jun has been appointed the next Chief Cultivator. It was not quite what Jingyi expected, his money was actually on Jiang Sect Leader, but Senior Wei didn’t seem surprised, even if his bright grin dimmed a little into something a little softer and a little sadder.

Two days later, after the Young Mistress became the new Jin Sect Leader and Wei Wuxian was cleared of almost all old charges (“I did kill people,” he said quietly when Hanguang-jun seemed to be a little pissed off about the ‘almost all’ part) and his work towards uncovering Jin Guangyao’s (or Meng Yao’s, as most people started to call him) was counted as repayment for the rest of his crimes. And an argument has been made that he has technically already died for his crimes in any case, and some even ventured that taking that inco account, the punishment was even excessive. It was not probably what would have happened under more calm circumstances, but everyone was eager to put the matter behind them, and with Hanguang-jun vehemently in Wei Wuxian’s corner, some people wanted to curry favor with the new Chief Cultivator. And Jingyi was honestly a little horrified that he was starting to understand the politics at play. He did not sign up for this, and he blamed Sizhui, Senior Wei, and Hanguang-jun, in that particular order.

Senior Wei accompanied them back to the Cloud Recesses, though true to his word, he didn’t stay for long, and the couple of days he did stay were almost fully spent in the jingshi, anyone but Hanguang-jun barely saw him.

He did come to see Jingyi before leaving, bringing him two bottles of the Emperor’s Smile and a stack of talismans. “There’s no drinking in the Cloud Recesses,” Jingyi informed him flatly, after he took the bottles off his hands and hid them under the loose board under the bed.

“If you go to the meadow beyond the jingshi, it’s technically outside the Cloud Recesses,” Senior Wei told him cheerfully.

“How did you even smuggle them in?”

“Why smuggle them in when I can have Lan Zhan buy them for me and just carry them in? Who is going to stop the Chief Cultivator?” he shrugged, and Jingyi was pretty sure he was bullshitting, but then he remembered that time they saw Hanguang-jun buy liquor at the inn and shut his mouth. “Anyway, this is a bribe.”

“That’s also against the rules,” Jingyi informed him.

“You seem to know the rules very well.”

“I’ve copied them a lot,” Jingyi offered, feeling his mouth twitch and trying to hold back the grin. Senior Wei didn’t even try. “What’s the bribe for?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back here. Someone needs to make sure Lan Zhan takes a break occasionally.”

Jingyi raised his eyebrows at him. “You honestly think I could make Hanguang-jun do anything?”

“I have every faith in you figuring something out. And in any case, you can also let me know, I can probably figure out a distraction.”

Jingyi didn’t doubt that. He considered it for a moment. “Yeah, okay.” He could do that. He wasn’t sure why Senior Wei wasn’t going to stay and do it himself, but he didn’t really know how to ask.

There was something still unresolved between them, with Senior Wei leaving and Hanguang-jun throwing himself into work right after. Admittedly, there was a lot of work, especially with Zewu-jun in seclusion.

Lan Qiren took over many of the Sect Leader responsibilities, but he also seemed to be a little withdrawn, like he was working something through. He has been suspiciously quiet during the discussion conference, especially on the subject of Senior Wei, in fact he has been suspiciously quiet since the Burial Mounds. He was clearly re-evaluating many things, and Jingyi wasn’t quite sure what he was going to arrive at.

With Lan Qiren busy with sect business, and Hanguang-jun busy with the Chief Cultivator stuff, and with Zewu-jun’s absence, and the fact that a good number of cultivators were away on night hunts that usually would be dealt with by Hanguang-jun alone, it meant that Cloud Recesses was a little short staffed. Sizhui was away too, and apparently that meant that Jingyi was not only put in charge of the junior disciples in place of Sizhui, but also asked to teach classes in the children’s hall.

Honestly, what has the world come to. Chief Cultivator dethroned, Hanguang-jun playing politics, Yiling Patriarch the new hero of the cultivation world, and Jingyi given responsibilities and trusted with children.

His mothers were proud though, and Hanguang-jun personally entrusted him with it all, so he couldn’t fuck it up. It was the worst.

And Sizhui was still gone, they were going to have words about it. He sent a message from Qishan, apparently he and Wen-shushu were doing well, and what the fuck was that about.

Jingyi was also put in charge of helping the new disciples, formerly of the Moling sect, settle in, and that was frankly just uncalled for. He must have really annoyed Lan Qiren one too many times.

Admittedly, not all of them were the absolute worst, but Jingyi lodged a formal protest on principle alone.

Much as Senior Wei predicted, Hanguang-jun busied himself with work. Jingyi suspected that even Senior Wei would be surprised by the single minded focus and the long work hours, but then again, perhaps not.

He tried his best, not just because he gave his word to Senior Wei, but also because Sizhui would probably worry about this too. Jingyi was starting to worry. It wasn’t evident at first, and he thought it wouldn’t become evident for a while to anyone who didn’t see Hanguang-jun’s personal notes, but it seriously seemed to him that the main reason Hanguang-jun accepted the Chief Cultivator position was to eventually make it obsolete.

It took Jingyi a while to puzzle it out, even when he did have a look at the notes as he was helping to sort through all the papers. And it was going to take Hanguang-jun a long while to even start to chip away at it. Jingyi was probably going to have to help with that too. Sizhui and Senior Wei would probably make sure of it, he could tell. It was going to be so much work.

And he was, frankly, pretty excited about it. Most people seemed to be under the impression that Jingyi didn’t like research, because he used to complain a lot about the amount of homework they got. And, fair enough, he did. Most of it was just rewriting the same things that were in their books, just rephrasing it to prove they understood them. It was- boring as fuck, sorry Lan Qiren.

Examining the cognition and intelligence level of fierce corpses based on account of cultivators who fought them? Not boring. Figuring out that the cultivation world used the Yiling Patriarch’s designs daily and more often than any other named inventor while symultaneusly claiming everything coming from the man was tainted and crooked? Not boring. Studying the Lan precepts for contradiction only to show that at least seventy-six of them directly defied Lan An’s teachings? Not boring in the slightest.

Jingyi had his special projects and when he did, he was pretty sure he could out-research even Sizhui.

Slowly and methodically dismantling one of the most crucial positions of power of the cultivation world? Not boring, not boring at all.

And then there was the other thing that Jingyi thought made Hanguang-jun accept the position. It did not have the over-reaching implications of the first, but it was not less interesting for it. And this one was none of Jingyi’s business but also, he felt kind of invested nonetheless.

And slightly vindicated, because he had it right even though he had it wrong.

Hopefully no one ever thought to tell Hanguang-jun Jingyi thought he and Sect Leader Jiang were a thing, but the only three people who know are Jingyi (taking it to his grave), Sizhui (extremely reliable, would not breathe a word), and Jiang Fa (in possession of a working brain and self-preservation instincts based on what Jingyi saw during the hunt, so unlikely to open his mouth on the subject).

But Jingyi had been right about the following things: one, there has been a tragic romance in Hanguang-jun’s past, he just had the participants slightly wrong, and two, there was more to the story of the Yiling Patriarch than the official version allowed for.

And it was pretty clear, back at the conference and in the time that followed, that the thing on top of the list for the new Chief Cultivator was to protect Wei Wuxian.

Why Senior Wei left the Cloud Recesses in that case, Jingyi could not tell, and did not dare ask. With someone else, he might speculate that Hanguang-jun’s love was unrequited, but he’s seen Mo Xanyu hang off Hanguang-jun shamelessly even before anyone knew it was Senior Wei, and then… Senior Wei was friendly with almost everyone, teased almost everyone too, and he was like that with Hanguang-jun, but- softer. More. Being around them honestly felt like intruding, most of the time.

Jingyi needed Sizhui back to confirm he wasn’t going crazy, and perhaps explain what on earth was going on.

Explain a couple of other things too, because Wen-shushu?

Still, most days Jingyi was too busy, between classes and the paperwork, to be confused about it all. He went on a couple of night hunts too, on Hanguang-jun’s insistence, one of them taking them to Lanling. It as a fun one, especially when Senior Wei tagged along, and Jin Ling as well.

They met Senior Wei on the way to Lanling, and he took one look at Jingyi, eyebrows rising high, and asked if he’s been checked for possession lately. Granted, Jingyi was at the time berating Li Xiao for forgetting his flares and assigning him copying the rules once they got back, but the thing was, it was a hard habit to break once you started teaching classes. Some of the younger juniors were just irresponsible. Forgetting flares, honestly.

Jingyi responded by sending a message to Hanguang-jun informing him Senior Wei was with them on a hunt, and was not entirely surprised when the last night of the hunt Senior Wei made incredibly flimsy excuses to leave them. He also responded by buying liquor and finally getting to try doing headstands while flying a sword. It hurt no one but him in the end, except for everyone else hung over and bruised, but he felt a little bit better about the whole copying rules thing. You needed to find the balance, he told Li Xiao, of when to do stupid shit, and when to not forget your flares.

Thankfully, Sizhui came back a couple weeks later, but apparently Jingyi has missed a lot of things happening, because he came back with the news that Wen Qing was alive and has been kept locked up somewhere by Jin Guangyao, and that she was Sizhui’s aunt. And the Ghost General was his uncle. And that he was born in the Burial Mounds? No, raised in the Burial Mounds. And that he forgot it, including Senior Wei, but then he remembered, because the congee was that bad?

Jingyi might have been tired as all fuck because he’s spent the day trying to grade essays on Lan sect history because Lan Qiren was in Moling for the week, and his brain was just- not working all that well.

“Hanguang-jun knew, right? Not about Wen Qing,” he clarified. “Obviously.” He knew little about Wen Qing really. He didn’t think anyone knew much. The Ghost General was a- well, a ghost story, but his sister- Jingyi raked his brain, but all he remembered was that she was one of the cultivators the Yiling Patriarch gathered in the Burial Mounds to build his army. Obviously not- yeah. “That-”

“That I am a Wen?” Sizhui muttered softly, turning to pour the tea. They were in the jingshi, which provided a little more privacy than the dorms, perhaps more than any other place in the Cloud Recesses. Neither Hanguang-jun nor Senior Wei returned yet. “Yes. He visited Burial Mounds when I was there. Or- he came to Yiling, I think,” he paused, deep in thought for a moment. “Senior Wei invited him to dinner and Hanguang-jun ended up paying for it.”

Jingyi laughed. “Nothing changed, then,” he muttered, shaking his head. Sizhui was smiling, but he was also studiously careful, in a way he never was when talking to Jingyi.

It took Jingyi an embarrassingly long time to realise why, In his defence, he really was tired, and also Sizhui was usually much smarter than that.

“He-” he counted in his head. His memory of the time was fuzzy, mostly because he was like, four years old, but- “Hanguang-jun brought you in when Senior Wei died?”

“A little before, I think, but yes. I don’t think he told anyone, but I think Zewu-jun might have suspected. I think I asked him once if he knew my mother.”

“Wait,” Jingyi raised his hand, feeling warm bubbles of glee rise in his throat. “Does that mean Senior Wei is your mother.”

Sizhui rolled his eyes. “I called him Xian-gege. Wen-shushu says I look like his cousin. My first father, I suppose. He says he never met my mother. Aunt Qing thinks she was a rogue cultivator.”

“Why does suddenly everyone have all those uncles and aunts,” Jingyi muttered, shaking his head. Sizhui shrugged, still avoiding his gaze rather studiously.

“A-Yuan,” he drawled, and that at least made Sizhui look up sharply. Jingyi didn’t think he called him that since they were twelve. “Wen Yuan?” he hazarded with a smile and Sizhui shrugged, relaxing minutely. Not as much as Jingyi would have liked, but enough.

“Lan Yuan, still. Father-” he said and shrugged. “Is still my father. I would not- But yes.”

“You know, I think Mom has copies of some Wen sect healers writings. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you- or I think also if your aunt needed them.”

Another fraction of a smile, and Sizhui leaned back, nodding. “I’d like that. I don’t really know yet what Aunt Qing is going to do next. Senior Wei secured a house for her and Wen-shushu in Yiling, for now.”

“With whose money?” Jingyi joked, and Sizhui startled into a laugh.

“Father’s,” he admitted. “I will be going there for a while, I think, once Father comes back here. Senior Wei seems to intend to stay there for a bit too.”

“You know, for a married couple they spend an awful lot of time as far away from each other as possible,” Jingyi muttered and caught Sizhui’s surprised look. “What?”

“Who?”

“Your parents,” Jingyi offered with a grin, and then frowned at Sizhui’s confusion. “Hanguang-jun and Senior Wei.”

“They’re not married.”

“Well, as good as. They might get around to it if they were in the same place at the same time for long enough without a crisis, I’m sure.”

Sizhui was still frowning. “They are not- I don’t think- They’re not together?”

Jingyi stared at him. “What. The actual. Fuck?” he muttered and then sighed heavily. Someone was going to have to do something about it. And honestly, he really had too much work already.