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“He’s beautiful,” Lan Xichen said reverently. “What’s his name?”
Jin Guangyao walked closer and rested one hand against Lan Xichen’s elbow, joining him in looking at the large bird sitting in an ornate gilded cage. “I call him A-Sang,” he admitted. “Perhaps it’s morbid, but I’ll always miss our Huaisang, and this little one reminds me of him so much.”
“A-Yao…” Lan Xichen turned to comfort his new husband. He knew the deaths of the Nie brothers had always affected Jin Guangyao, but he never knew he missed Nie Huaisang so deeply. It was something they had in common. Lan Xichen didn’t think he’d ever recover from the loss, not completely.
“Please, Er-ge, it’s nothing,” Jin Guangyao insisted. “It comforts me to call him that, but if it troubles you, I won’t speak of it again.”
“No, I understand completely,” Lan Xichen reassured him. “I miss him too, A-Yao. Huaisang wouldn’t have minded, I’m sure. He loved birds so much.”
“This one would be a bit too drab for Huaisang’s tastes,” Jin Guangyao chuckled. “But he used to sing so sweetly for me.”
“Used to?”
“He hasn’t sung in years,” Jin Guangyao said. “Not since my coronation. It’s a shame, he had such a lovely song.”
Lan Xichen hummed his disappointment. A-Sang wasn’t a colorful bird, but his gray-and-black feathers were glossy and well-preened, and he watched Lan Xichen with charming intelligence. It was almost as if he could open his beak and start reciting poetry, just like Nie Huaisang had loved to do.
“That is a shame,” he agreed. “I would have loved to hear him sing.”
“You hear that, A-Sang? My consort wants you to sing for him,” Jin Guangyao told the bird, tapping the golden cage with graceful fingers as if plucking the strings of an instrument. The bird tilted his head like he was trying to understand, and Lan Xichen chuckled at how confused he looked.
“Just like Huaisang,” he said, an old, deep pain rising in his chest.
A message talisman flew into the room, and Jin Guangyao caught it with a slight frown.
“Very sorry, my dear, but this is urgent,” he told Lan Xichen. “Will you be all right waiting here until I get back?”
“Of course,” Lan Xichen reassured him, and Jin Guangyao left him in the room, alone with A-Sang. Lan Xichen turned to examine the paintings on the walls. They were high quality; grand commissions from the finest artists, and he could already see several techniques that he wished to try to replicate in his own art. He’d have more time for that now that he’d be living here, and didn’t have his own sect leader duties.
As he leaned in to examine the brushwork of a pine forest, he heard a clear, piercing sound behind him. He turned back around and looked for the source of the sound, but all he could see was A-Sang’s birdcage. He walked over and examined the bird again.
“Was that you?” he asked, delighted. “I thought you didn’t sing, little bird.”
As if in response, A-Sang opened his beak and began singing a loud, rippling song, brilliant and complex, like the songs of several other birds pieced together into a lovely whole. Lan Xichen listened, entranced, and A-Sang sang faster and louder, leaning forward on his perch as if trying to get closer to him. The song took on a frantic energy as it increased in speed and pitch until it was almost like A-Sang was screaming at him with every breath.
“Is everything all right?” Lan Xichen asked the bird, concerned. He didn’t know much about bird behavior, but this seemed unnatural, and he wondered if he was distressing A-Sang somehow. Of course, there was no real reply, except for A-Sang to sing impossibly louder. Lan Xichen took a step back, frightened that the bird would hurt himself from how hard he was singing. “I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
A-Sang’s song softened immediately, but it had a discordant tone to it, as if he were singing off-key. He began fluttering and hopping, pressing his wings and body against the bars of the cage as if he wanted to reach Lan Xichen. It was odd, but Lan Xichen couldn’t help thinking of how Nie Huaisang had always looked when he was begging for someone to pay attention to him. Lan Xichen had always obliged, of course, and he had a hard time reminding himself that just because this bird reminded him of his Nie Huaisang, it didn’t mean this behavior was attention-seeking. Perhaps it was the opposite, and the bird was trying to tell Lan Xichen to leave him alone.
“A-Yao said you don’t sing, but you seem to have a lot you want to say,” Lan Xichen mused.
He didn’t say anything else or make any other moves, but without warning, A-Sang’s song stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
“Oh, you stopped… Are you angry at me for intruding? Or are you scared?” Lan Xichen asked. He reached a hand out, intending to check if the bird really was frightened of him. If A-Sang shied away or showed any sign that Lan Xichen was unwelcome, he would back off and leave the bird alone as much as he could. He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Already he felt attached to this odd bird with so much in common with Nie Huaisang, and he would love to have the companionship of a pet in his new home where pets were finally permitted. “Go on and let me know if you’re scared of me.”
“Who’s scared of my Er-ge?” said a voice behind him.
Lan Xichen jumped and spun around. Jin Guangyao had returned silently, and stood before him with a sweet, curious smile.
“You’re the one scaring me!” Lan Xichen laughed. “You moved so quietly, I didn’t even know you were there.” Had A-Sang known? Was that why he’d stopped singing, because he’d known Jin Guangyao was about to enter the room? “I was just talking to A-Sang—he sang for me while you were gone, if you can believe it.”
“Oh?” Jin Guangyao turned his eyes to the birdcage, watching A-Sang. “He must like you, Er-ge. I can’t say I blame him.”
“He stopped when you got here, though,” Lan Xichen told him. “Maybe it’s for the best. He seemed a little distressed, almost.”
“Distressed? Oh dear,” Jin Guangyao said. “If he isn’t behaving himself, I can have him moved. It’s your home now. You should feel comfortable here.” His eyes never left the birdcage.
“No, no, it was his home first,” Lan Xichen pointed out. “We’ll give it some more time. Hopefully we can all get along, as a family.”
“Of course, Er-ge,” Jin Guangyao said softly. His gaze left the birdcage and landed on Lan Xichen, and he held out his hand. “You, me, and A-Sang. Our little family.”
Lan Xichen took his hand and smiled.