Chapter Text
"Wait, wait,” he holds his hands up in surrender to show A-Lei he means to stop. “Come here, they’re kicking.”
A-Lei crawls over Xichen, stepping on his thigh in a way that makes him hiss. Jiang Cheng forces his laugh back and eases A-Lei’s hands over to the place where his sibling is continuously making their presence known.
“H-hey!” A-Lei laughs. He tickles at the place where he felt the kicks. “They’re so excited! When they’re here I’m going to tickle them so much.”
The throaty laughter and high pitched squeal of delight wafting throughout Lotus Pier assures the Sect Leader Jiang that his son has kept his promise. The Jiang disciples can feel their shoulders ease a fraction when the abundant sound lifts the corners of their sect leader’s mouth, regardless of the blunders they make during training or the daily incompetence he has to deal when bearing discussion with certain other sect leaders.
Taking a moment to pause after setting aside a formal trade agreement, Jiang Cheng glances towards the far side of his office where A-Lei hovers over his baby sibling lying on a mat, cooing at the four month old and tickling their little pudgy tummy. The infant giggles and kicks their legs, gummy smile utterly delighted and completely enthralled at having their older brother’s attention.
Flower’s hair is still damp from swimming in the lakes earlier, but unlike his older siblings who are still preoccupied with such a leisure activity, the second youngest is more often than not these days preoccupied by the youngest baby. That, and he still likes to remain by his Mama’s side.
Reaching the bottom of the stack of letters, Jiang Cheng finds a familiar envelope decorated with pale blue cloud motifs. The rare smile appears once more as he opens it, devouring the contents of his husband’s letter.
Since the debacle with the former Jin Sect leader, his husband has been called upon to deal with the fallout, not surprising given his closeness to the schemy bastard since the Sunshot campaign. A-Huan has been traveling back and forth between Lotus Pier and Cloud Recesses, and even worse, last month he was not able to get away to come visit. He can’t begrudge his husband for the absence, given Jiang Cheng knows all too well duty comes before personal wants, but he knows they both hate the distance, especially when their Little Star has not gotten much time with their Baba. Their older children cheer when Lan Xichen arrives and loathe when he has to leave.
By the end of the letter however, a swell of happiness overcomes him at the proposal enclosed.
“A-Lei,” he calls, drawing the soon to be five-year-old’s attention.
“Mama?” he sits back on his haunches, finger absentmindedly playing with little star’s feet.
“Go grab your brothers and sister and inform them to pack their bags.”
The toddler perks up, jumping to his feet. “We’re going on a trip?!”
Jiang Cheng rises from his desk, wandering over to his youngest children. He bends down and carefully picks up his Little Star and rests a hand against the top of A-Lei’s head. “We’ve received an invitation to come stay at Cloud Recesses. Now who could have sent it?” the Jiang sect leader pretends to ponder aloud.
A-Lei beams his signature wide square smile, hugging his legs tightly before he races outside to relay the message to his older siblings.
Jiang Cheng smiles, softly looking down to the baby in his arms who is quite taken by his braid. He taps Little Star’s nose, awarded with a happy, gummy squeal. “Time to go see Baba.”
💮
The journey to Cloud Recesses takes longer than usual.
They have to leave at the crack of dawn, the sun just beginning to appear on the horizon, in order to make good time. There will need to be more precaution taken by the travelers given they’ll be doubling up.
Since Lan Yanli and Jiang Bai have not yet mastered traveling on their swords, and the younger children are under the age of five, Jiang Cheng usually has to rely on his eldest son and nephews to help transport the rest of the family.
Unfortunately, Lan Sizhui is currently residing in Gusu, already with his parents.
The middle Jiang-Lan children take their respective places on the backs of A-Ming and A-Ling. Since Jiang Cheng will be wearing a sling to securely travel with the baby, he’s had to select one of his most trusted disciples to travel with A-Lei. It’s not a hardship, seeing as all the disciples volunteer, the second youngest’s sweet disposition endearing to many. Eventually he selects Jiang Yinzhu, her skills and no-bullshit attitude something the sect leader admires and trusts.
Sadly, being too young and small, A-Lei is absolutely disheartened to learn he cannot partake in piggyback riding like his older brother and sister.
Jiang Cheng snorts, gently poking one of those puffed, pouty cheeks while he sits in Jiang Yinzhu’s arms. “One day when you’re older, Flower,” he promises.
Slumped against his disciple’s shoulder, A-Lei’s response is to sigh, obviously put out, the tail-end of his beloved handkerchief flutters from the action where it’s clutched securely in his fist.
The ride takes most of the day, and the youngest ones sleep while the older ones have a blast and try to race each other spurred on by A-Li and A-Bai. Honestly Jiang Cheng has had more than his fair share of heart attacks in this one trip than in the past sixteen years.
Six rooms, his husband had dreamed during the hanshi construction many years ago. Six.
And Jiang Cheng indulged him.
But with the solid weight of the babe sleeping soundly against his chest and a quick glance to his right assuring A-Lei is in a similar state against Jiang Yinzhu's shoulder, his heart feels incredibly full.
The air turns cold and it’s not long before the cloud’s part to reveal their destination.
“Mama, we’re here!” A-Bai shouts, voice miraculously carrying over the wind. Little Storm who reigns over the sky.
A small group is awaiting them at the entrance, and they direct their swords to meet them.
💮
“Flower,” a hand rubs at his back gently, arousing him from his nap. Smacking his lips together, Jiang Lei lifts his head and sluggishly blinks, taking in his surroundings. Once he recognizes the cloudy skies and familiar, gigantic staircase, he shoots up, turning around in Jiang Yinzhu’s arms to spot familiar faces.
“Baba!” He wiggles in the disciple’s arms until he’s set down, running to crash into his father’s legs. He hugs them tightly, startling a deep laugh out of the Gusu Lan Sect Leader. Oh, how he’s missed him!
Peaking up, his Baba tilts his head, eyes crinkled in joy. “And who can this be? Surely I don’t recall a child who has grown so big.”
He giggles. “Baba it’s me, A-Lei.”
“A-Lei?” his Baba feigns surprise, golden eyes widening. “I only know one boy by that name. Do you mean Jiang Lei who is four years old?”
“I’ll be five soon!” he proclaims proudly, excited at the prospect of turning five and celebrating his birthday with all his family present.
Lan Xichen simpers, a tender look in his eye when he gazes upon his son. “Yes you will.”
His Baba leans down and A-Lei lets go of his legs, thinking he’s about to be picked up, when a pat on his head and white robes brushing past him cause him to blink, puzzled.
The four-year-old turns to see his Baba embrace his Mama, “Hello, my heart.”
His Mama smirks, and the two of them share a brief kiss before his father looks down and runs his fingers across the peach fuzz of his younger sibling’s head. “And hello Little Star,” he greets warmly, bestowing a kiss upon the tiny brow.
His Mama carefully loosens the sling and allows his Baba to hold the baby, cradling them in the crook of his arm. His Mama leans against his arm, gazing upon the baby in adoration.
A-Lei takes an aborted step forward, mouth opening and closing. But...doesn’t he get cuddles too?
Suddenly hands give his shoulders a playful shake. “Well if it isn’t my favorite little friend. Surely you haven’t forgotten to greet your uncles?” Uncle Xian teases.
“Of course not!” A-Lei grins, throwing his arms around his legs too. He also then does the same to Uncle Ji, rewarded with a lift of his stoic uncle’s lips. But, like his Baba, the two move to greet the disciple who traveled with them and escort them to their room, forgoing any offers of cuddles.
Feeling a pit forming in his tummy, A-Lei whips back around to find his Mama and Baba have moved from their original spot, his father already climbing the stairs, white robes billowing behind him. His older brothers, sister, and cousins have raced ahead, more than halfway up the staircase.
And for some reason A-Lei finds himself pouting, wringing his handkerchief anxiously in his hands.
“Flower,” his Mama looks back, beckoning him from a higher step. The four-year-old perks up and hurriedly begins the climb, following the rest of his family.
He assures himself he’ll get cuddles later.
💮
That night, the whole family gathers in the hanshi for a family dinner.
The tabletop is covered in plates and bowls of steaming dishes that make his little tummy rumble in hunger. However they remain untouched, despite Uncle Xian’s whining, as they await for one final guest.
Speaking of which, at a simple knock at the front door, A-Ming goes to allow him entry and welcome him in.
“Yeye!” A-Lei shouts in joy.
The four-year-old leaps up from his spot and races to the older man, about to throw his arms around his legs in greeting, but at the last second skids to a stop, remembering to properly bow first. Looking up, he finds Yeye bemused before opening his arms, beckoning him closer. Only then does A-Lei wrap his arms around his legs, squeezing tightly.
“It’s good to see you, A-Lei,” his Yeye’s voice warm like a summer’s day.
Hoping to be held, he pulls back and finds Yeye's hand outstretched towards him. “Come, let’s not keep everyone waiting.”
Unlike earlier, A-Lei is not sad at the alternative, understanding that Yeye is old and can’t carry him. So he joyfully accepts the hand, letting the older Lan guide him back to the others.
Dinner serves plenty of warm food and heartwarming laughter; there’s just so much joy to be found in his family being reunited. Everyone A-Lei loves is here in this home: his Mama, his Baba, his uncles, his Yeye, his siblings, and his cousins.
The only one not particularly happy is the youngest of the bunch.
Little Jiang lets out a pitiful whine, turning away from the offered spoon of soft puree. His Baba worryingly frowns, cradling his sibling in his arms. “Will you not eat, Little Star?” he asks.
“I guess they don’t like Lan food either,” Uncle Xian stage-whispers, settling off giggles that his cousins and eldest brother have to hide into the sleeve of their robes.
“Wei Wuxian, speculation and disparaging comments about food prepared by the Sect is forbidden,” his Yeye chastises.
“I believe eaves-dropping is also against the rules, isn’t it?” Uncle Xian teases.
“Mhm,” Uncle Ji nods in agreement at his spouse’s observation.
Yeye’s pinched mouth twitches, annoyed but he doesn’t comment further.
His Baba, still unable to coax the babe to eat, looks towards Mama. “My heart, do you want to try?”
“I’ll hold them, Baba!” A-Lei volunteers, hurrying to his feet and maneuvering around the table, arms already outstretched.
Uncertain at the offer, his Baba tries to gently dissuade him. “Perhaps another time-” stalled when his Mama places a hand on his arm.
“A-Huan, our Little Flower has been a great helper with Little Star. As long as he sits still, why don’t you allow him to show you how big of help he’s been?”
His Baba softens, maybe sad he missed some milestones. “Okay, come sit beside me,” he instructs, A-Lei hurrying to plop right against his Baba. The Lan Sect Leader then carefully hands over the baby, the four-year old boy diligently cradling his younger sibling, just like his Mama had taught him. He gently shushes the younger who squirms in his arms, bright golden eyes peering up at him.
A-Lei reaches over and grabs the spoon from the forgotten bowl on the table, bringing it closer to tickle it against Star’s mouth, little nose twitching before finally opening up to gnaw on a spoonful of mush. The youngest instantly calms within their brother’s arms, earning a delighted smile from the older child. All in the hanshi are touched by the sweet moment between the youngest children, the parents undoubtedly so.
While Little Star consumes their meal, his Baba tries to wrap his arms around them both, like he’s worried A-Lei will drop the baby, but the four-year old shakes his head, scooching away. “I can do it, Baba. I’m a big boy.”
Still smiling, his Baba retracts his hands and instead occupies himself with leaning against his wife, both parents appreciating the gathering of family.
💮
The first few days back in Cloud Recesses are used to settle in. Most of the children are excited for lessons and training sessions, venturing out of the hanshi like chicks spreading their wings, prepared to take to the sky, and leaping from the highest tree branch.
One little chick, however, refuses to be parted from his mother’s side.
Jiang Lei follows his Mama throughout the morning routine, trailing after him as the Sect Leader bounces a fussy Little Star in his arms, the baby not particularly pleased at having to wait for their meal to warm up. It had been a late night last night, the youngest still adjusting to the colder environment and new unfamiliar sounds.
A-Lei struggled recently with sleep as well, finding his bed too big and cold without the humidity of Lotus Pier he had grown accustomed to.
A tiny bit tuckered out, he holds his hands up, silently asking to be held. His Mama attempts to shift his baby sibling into his other arm and reach for him with the other, but the jostling makes Little Star grumpy, releasing out a pitiful whine. Retracting his hand, his mother lets out an exhausted sigh that breaks A-Lei’s tiny heart.
“I’m sorry, Flower, I cannot hold you both while the baby needs feeding. Why don’t you go help your father with his work? I’m sure he’d love to hold you.”
His baby sibling gives another cranky whine, one teetering on the edge of tears and his mother’s attention is snatched up, shushing the younger as he wanders into the kitchen to grab the awaiting warmed milk. A-Lei’s arms still linger in the air, his little pout growing more prominent as his arms drop to his side, his mother’s promise long forgotten.
“I’m very excited for this baby to arrive,” Jiang Cheng runs his hand over A-Lei’s hair. “But do you know what I’m most excited for?”
A-Lei perks. “What?”
“When this is gone,” he pokes at the bump and earns a giggle from his son. “It’ll be so much easier to cuddle my Flower.”
When was the last time he was held? When was the last time he was carried, even cuddled by his Mama or Baba or any of his family?
Has it been a day? A month? A year? Or was it before Star was born, nestled asleep in Mama’s tummy?
A-Lei can’t remember.
The only concept of time he has is when it is deemed appropriate to retire to bed and when it is time to rise, and of course when it is time to eat. Even thinking really hard about it, he cannot recall what it feels like to be in his Mama’s arms.
Antsy to rectify this, he departs from the hanshi in a hurry, needing to find his Baba. Of course he abides by the Gusu Lan rules of not running, even in his desperation. He finds his father near the lecture hall, conversing with a few disciples, young minds eager to absorb all they can from such a revered cultivator.
A-Lei waits near them, rocking back and forth on his heels, with his hands linked behind his back to mimic his father’s position. He knows it’s not proper to interrupt a conversation, especially when his Baba is working. So he politely waits his turn. The disciples take notice of him, smiling with a wink as they excuse themselves, bowing to his Baba.
“Baba,” he calls, greeted by a soft look.
“A-Lei. Have you decided to venture away from your Mama’s side today?," he asks.
A-Lei hums affirmative, wandering closer to grasp onto part of his robes, looking up at his baba. “Mama said I should help with your work. And while I help, you could hold me.”
The suggestion draws a chuckle. “Oh dear, with such an adorable helper, I’m afraid I won’t get any work done,” his father teases, not making a move to uncross his arms from behind his back. “Truly though it’s all rather boring tedious work, something better spent playing with your siblings, less you’d find yourself falling asleep on me. Your mother would have a fit if I disturbed your night time routine.” Distracted by a voice calling for the Sect Leader, his father quickly pokes his nose. “Besides, I thought big boys didn’t need to be held,” he says in a teasing fashion, walking away to be drawn into another long conversation.
But something inside A-Lei breaks.
Because all A-Lei hears is that big boys won’t be held anymore. He won’t be held anymore.
Never held again? Never to be towed in his parents’ arms? Never to be hugged and tossed in the air? Never to be carried and rocked to sleep?
The idea of growing up doesn’t seem so appealing anymore.
💮
A-Lei walks with a quiet patter to his steps, head low, a torrential rain cloud hanging over his small form.
He’s sticking to Da-ge’s side this afternoon, needing some affection after not receiving any from his Mama or Baba; jiejie and gege as well rebuffed his attempt to join in their fun, stating he’s too young to embark on their adventure for the day.
Though temporarily miffed about playing babysitter, his eldest brother allows the younger boy to tag along with him while he converses with Tangxiong and Biaoge about training, absentmindedly holding his tiny hand. The discussion revolves around fighting tactics A-Lei is too young and inexperienced to talk about.
Just as they round a corner, A-Lei runs into his cousin’s legs, stopped in place along with older boys. Peeking through the gap between them, he finds they have spotted a group of people gathered across the way near the Mingshi. He perks up at recognizing Uncle Ji and Uncle Xian are with them. “Uncle-” a hand covers his mouth, Da-ge gently shushes as all four inch back around the corner.
The three teens stick their heads out, hushed as they observe the goings on. A-Lei leans as much as he can around them, watching Uncle Ji lead the group donned in gold robes into the room, a few of them hauling a large trunk there. Uncle Xian’s gestures animatedly to the guests, his voice nearly carrying across by the wind. What really catches the young child’s attention is that in the clustered sea of gold, there is the flutter of red robes someone is wearing, behind the others, bright in a way that stands out. Uncle Xian disappears into the building after the last guest.
“What do you think it is?” Jin Ling leans around the pillar, trying to catch a good look of what is being stowed into the room.
“Some sort of bewitched object perhaps. Maybe something with resentful energy?” Da-ge wiggles his eyebrows, ooo’ing with his cousin at the prospect.
“Gossiping is forbidden,” his Tangxiong reminds the two, though there’s a smile on his lips.
“It’s not gossip if we are commenting on an observation,” Biaoge retorts.
But the youngest is still hooked on the sight of red robes, looking up towards his big brother, tugging on his hand to get his attention. “Da-ge, is someone getting married?”
His brother tilts his head to the side, perplexed by the strange question. “Why do you ask?”
This time the younger brother is the one who tilts his head. “Because someone was wearing red over there. Didn’t you see?”
His brother blinks, but otherwise humors him. “Ugh no, must have missed it.” But A-Lei catches the low mumble to his cousin. “Kids have such a vivid imagination these days.”
The comment has the little one’s shoulder’s dropping, pouting. He wasn’t playing pretend, he saw red robes! Lying is forbidden in Cloud Recesses and big boys aren’t supposed to lie.
All the while his Tangxiong chuckles, answering more kindly, “No, A-Lei. No one is getting married. Now come on, let’s go before we get in trouble. I’m sure we can agree that it would be no fun to have to endure writing all the rules repeatedly.”
The shudder the other two disciples give is enough for them to heed the third’s words. A-Lei is pulled away from the scene by his brother, the three teens get caught up in speculation about what delivery is being kept so secretive.
Going unnoticed, the youngest peeks back and is disappointed when he doesn’t catch any sight of the red robes again.
💮
At dinner that evening, he decides he’s gonna try to be a big boy. The first task is feeding himself. While some foods are manageable, especially those that require a spoon like soup or congee, others prove to be a challenge that his family has always had to help him; the ones that involve chopsticks.
A-Lei holds the chopsticks, trying to use his tiny fingers to pry them open and grab some rice. But they are so big and his dexterity is clumsy and lacking. His little tongue pokes out of his mouth, little brow furrowed as he twists his hands, trying to pinch some rice.
While everyone silently eats, their attention strays towards the second youngest as he struggles with his chopsticks. After a few minutes, he manages to dig the wooden skewers into his rice pile, but even with a practiced pinch, only a few grains of rice come away and it’s because they stuck to the chopsticks and not due to the flimsy pinch.
Helplessly, big wallops of tears threaten to flood his eyes as he sticks the chopsticks in his mouth, feeling like a failure as he chews at the four grains of rice. His little tummy aches with hunger. Being big is tougher than it looks.
“A-Lei.”
He looks up from his untouched pile of rice and finds his father’s expression looking perturbed and his mother frowning while he pats Star softly on the back, the infant hanging over his comfortable perch on their mama’s shoulder while gnawing on their fist. His uncles are trading wary glances, and Yeye’s mouth twists. His older brothers, cousins and sister tilt their heads at him.
Perhaps they’re all upset at him for not being a big boy who can feed himself, perhaps they are disappointed. He tried his best, he swears!
His father opens his mouth, and A-Lei’s chin trembles at the thought of being reprimanded.
“I’m tired, Baba, can I go lay down?” he asks.
His Baba blinks, glancing towards his Mama before they both nod. A-Lei clamors to his feet, and bows to the table before scampering away, knowing he’s already broken rules by lying and failing to eat all his dinner, so what’s another broken by running?
He doesn’t see his father holding an offering of an unused spoon in his free hand nor the worried looks of his family following his little form as it disappears into the hallway.
His little socked feet hurry across the wooden floors of the hanshi, sliding open the door to his room and rushing inside, hasty to close the door behind him. He then dives for his bed, pulling the blankets over him and he curls in a ball, burying his face in his handkerchief.
He resigns himself to going to bed hungry. Big boys fast without complaint.
💮
Big boys are supposed to be brave and explore on their own. Which is why he braves the day, departing from the hanshi and the comfort of his mother’s side.
Wandering around Cloud Recesses, he comes upon a door to the Mingshi where he had seen his uncles enter into, followed by the fluttering red robes. It’s also a place his Mama and Baba and Yeye have expressly stated is forbidden to enter. Curiosity getting the better of him, he decides to take a peek, not of course before he looks right, left, and even up to ensure no one is watching as he slides the door open and quickly closes it behind him.
Insides the room is dim, empty save for a mantle, the top of which is shrouded by hanging tapestries. It’s also smoky, incense wafting around the room lazily. Something blue is painted on the walls, symbols A-Lei can’t read yet as they glow bright and then dim.
Wandering closer to the altar, he tries to take a peek at what's on top, standing on his tip toes and even jumping but alas it’s too up high. Sighing, he goes around to the other side, and wanders past it towards the wall where an altar is set up. There’s offerings and paper slips with the same symbols written on them, only this time they are glow bright red.
Wringing his hands, tempted, he reaches forward about to touch one but stops when he hears something outside.
Voices draw closer to the Mingshi, and A-Lei panics, turning in a circle, unsure where to hide when there’s nothing to hide behind or under. The people are right outside the door, A-Lei’s heart in his throat. However, before he can panic he’s pulled backwards, bumping into something solid and covered by a sheer red robe.
It’s just at that very moment the door slides open and the visitors enter.
“-and it was just there in his possession?” That’s Baba’s voice!
“Apparently found in a locked chest along with other belongings,” his Yeye’s usual kind and gentle disposition is gone. A-Lei shuffles nervously in his hiding spot.
“Something like this here is bound to attract attention.” Mama! He sounds far grumpier than the youngster has ever heard before. “And it’s not the Lan disciples I’m worried about. The older ones understand to stay clear of this place and will abide by the rules, no matter how tempting it is to break them, but we can’t guarantee the same discretion from A-Li and A-Bai if they catch wind of this. And I certainly don’t want this evil thing anywhere near our family, especially Flower and Little Star.”
Said child cannot contain the gasp he emits, shocked by the very mention of his nickname before he clasps his hands over his mouth, eyes wide as the moon. Oh no.
The voices fall hushed, as if to check if they heard the gasp or imagined it. The four-year-old can see the shift of shadows behind the red curtain, someone tall drawing nearer, and A-Lei presses himself back against the sturdy legs nervously. Please don’t find me, please don’t find me. The shadow stops in its tracks, as if looking straight at where he stands, but they don’t say anything. Maybe they don’t notice his hiding spot.
Hands still cupped over his mouth, A-Lei tilts his head back, peering up through the opening of the robe where he gets a peek of a masked face, worn on this person hiding him. Said person must feel his gaze, because they look down at him and bring a finger up to the painted red lips, indicating for him to stay quiet. A-Lei nods, hands still clasped in place, peering back at the shadow in front of them. The figure remains there for what feels like forever until finally turning away, retreating back to his family.
“Nothing is there,” his Uncle Ji comments, none the wiser A-Lei and this person are in fact there. Either Uncle Ji is really bad at hide and go seek or he actually can’t see them.
Perhaps they are invisible, which is so cool!
“I thought it was destroyed,” Uncle Xian comments. “I mean I don’t remember too much in those last moments, but I was certain-“
“It was,” his Mama answers, the room tense. “But apparently good old Jin Guangyao had it commissioned to be remade. Which means he wasn’t the only one to know of it.”
A moment of silence lingers, the kind that sometimes has A-Lei squirming in place, before his Baba announces a decision. “It cannot stay here.”
The rest make noises of agreement before Yeye directs, “Wei Wuxian, I trust those talismans of yours are up to standards. At least until we can have it transferred somewhere, not within miles of Gusu.”
“Of course they are. Who do you take me for, someone who does this willy nilly?” Uncle Xian jokingly argues.
“Wei Ying will handle it,” Uncle Ji backs his wife up.
“As long as you do,” Yeye humphs. “Lest you desire to face adding another rule you’ve broken to your list.”
Uncle Xian sputters. “What rule?”
Yeye’s voice grows fainter as he opens the door. “Poor talismans are forbidden.”
“You just made that up!” Uncle Xian chases after him. “Lan Zhan, tell your uncle he can’t just make rules up!”
A scoff and more movement follow them out before the door slides shut.
A-Lei slowly lets his hands drop by his side, blowing out a large breath he was holding. Wow that was close. He doesn’t know what everything he overheard means but whatever is in this room, his family doesn’t want here. It must be frightening if brave warriors like them don’t like it. A-Lei lifts an edge of the robe, peaking out to ensure the coast is clear. With luck it is, so he then steps out and turns to face his savior. His head tilts back to look up and up and-
The person is tall, really tall that A-Lei has to tip his head all the way back. They are wearing the red robes A-Lei had seen a few days ago, along with a mask, painted with a face decorated in vivid colors.
A-Lei brings his arms together and bows. “Thank you for helping me.”
The visitor tilts their head down at him but otherwise doesn’t say anything.
He offers an introduction. “I’m Jiang Lei. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Again, met with silence.
“I like your robes. Are you getting married soon?” He toes the floor shyly.
No response.
Growing nervous, he stutters. “U-uh I have to leave before I get in trouble.”
A sudden movement has him jumping when one pale hand, accentuated by long red fingernails, rises from the red sleeve and points to the side, A-Lei following the direction and spotting another door. Relieved, he turns back more happily. “Thank you so much! See you later!”
Bowing one last time, he scampers over to the door and makes a hurried exit.
💮
Blessedly, dinner that night is soft congee, spoons being the only utensil set out. A-Lei manages to feed himself and give himself a mental back on the back. He’ll make his Mama and Baba proud at this rate! While the second youngest is focused on his task dutifully, the others are occupied with an interesting conversation. Family.
“I’m just saying you get a lot of perks being an only child,” Jin Ling argues, speaking around a mouthful.
Lan Sizhui’s smile grows wider. “But big families are so wonderful, being able to have so many siblings to talk to and play with and rely on is just so...wonderful. Plus Mama and Baba are considering having more.”
“That’s right. And at the rate Lan Zhan likes to...to...uh…. cuddle , we will probably eventually beat your number, A-Cheng,” Uncle Xian teases his younger brother.
Jiang Cheng scoffs. “Yah! What are speaking about in front my kids, at the dinner table no less? Stop corrupting their minds with your peevish ways!”
Lan Xichen however smiles sentimentally at his younger brother. “You want a big family too, Wangji?”
“Mmm. At least ten kids,” Uncle Ji comments innocently before indulging in his spoonful, prompting Uncle Xian to cough unexpectedly and have to sip at his tea.
Yeye sputters. “Wangji, such thoughts are forbidden!”
“Eleven,” is the Second Jade of Lan’s only reply, one that has the older kids snickering into their bowls and Lang Qiren about to choke if he doesn’t compose himself. Even his Jiang Cheng cannot smother his smile at the blunt reply.
Enjoying such a lively mood, Lan Sizhui turns to his uncles. “Forgive my intrusiveness, Uncles. I know the hanshi only has six rooms, but are you considering more children as well?”
“A-Yuan, you're supposed to be on your parents’ side,” Wei Wuxian huffs out, contradicted by the amused smile on his face while Jin Ling chokes on a clump of rice.
Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng falter at the sudden question, sharing a glance that speaks of several unnamed emotions until they both smile at one another. The Jiang Sect Leader confides, “Well, actually we-“
“ No .”
The interruption by the whiplash of a word comes from A-Li, the jut of her chin and the low pull of her brows barely hints at the anger stewing beneath.
“A-Li,” her father’s tone treading lightly, underneath it is the warning of: ‘careful. ’
Lan Yanli ignores it, instead using her energy to send a stink eye at her older cousin. “No, they won’t have any more children. They don’t need anymore. They are fine with us. End of discussion.”
Taken aback, Lan Sizhui tries to backtrack, “I’m sorry A-Li, I didn’t mean-“
“Then you shouldn’t have asked,” she snaps.
“Bunny,” Jiang Cheng reprimands, using her nickname. Even if it tends these days to make her more annoyed, it still carries endearment. They’ve had this conversation before, with tears and curses and grief so thick it took him that moment stolen at midnight to understand fully her tendency to be quick to anger concerning the topic of pregnancy and occasionally the younger children. He knows all too well that anger masks the worry, the unaddressed grief, for she is so much like him.
But that doesn’t mean she can lash out at anyone over the idea.
The young female reigns inwardly, focusing back on her meal. Clutching her spoon tightly, she strikes the mush mountain with a little too much force. Uneasy, Lan Sizhui sends an apologetic look towards his uncles, both who mutely wave him off. The young disciple couldn’t have known the topic was so sensitive to the younger child.
Jiang Bai casts an unsure look towards his sister. “But jie-jie, babies are cute, aren’t they? They’re tiny and fun carry around, and you love holding Star, don’t you want-“
She suddenly slams her spoon on the table, causing even the adults to startle. She whips towards her younger brother with a growl that covers up a faint whimper from somewhere else. “How can you ask them for more?! Pregnancy makes people weak and vulnerable! Do you want Mama to go through that again? Do you want him so sick and bed bound like he was when he was carrying A-Lei that it nearly killed him?!“
“Lan Yanli, that is enough!” the Lan Sect Leader’s voice thunders.
The twelve-year-old’s mouth opens and closes, the fight in her not quite done, breathing harshly, chest heaving while her expression wars in ire. Eventually her lips pinch decidedly shut, and she crosses her arms and hunches down in her seat, steam still pouring out of her frame. Beside her, Jiang Bai shifts guiltily, unmeaning to have set off his sister nor dredged up bad memories.
The Lan patriarch keeps his voice even. “There is no need to lash out at your cousin or brother for simple questions or sentiments. There is no need to say such things.” Taking a moment to compose himself, the sect leader more calmly addresses the Lan disciple. “And there is no need to apologize for your curiosity A-Yuan. If you should know, Little Star is to be our last. And it’s a decision we made together and not because of…. difficult past experiences.”
The Lan Sect Leader then falls quiet, settling back into his seat while taking comfort in the hand his wife lays on the crook of his arm. Even after a clear answer is given, the room lies in hushed stillness, sour words lingering in the air. Everyone keeps their eyes low, waiting for the unease to be broken by something, anything. Which is why the first sound that does is unexpected.
A shaky sniffle.
Every head snaps to the source to discover heartbreakingly A-Lei’s eyes flooded with tears and his little chin quivering, rubbing his cheek against his handkerchief.
“Oh, A-Lei, no,” his baba laments, earning a choked sob from said child that he hides behind the handkerchief.
‘Is that why Mama and Baba won’t carry him anymore? Because he almost killed Mama?’ the little Jiang wonders. ‘Do they hate him so ? Is that why jiejie is always so mad? Is that what ge-ge only stays by her side? Is that why Da-ge only wants to hang with his cousins?’
'Is that why no one holds him? Is that why? Is that why? Why? Why? Why?’
His Mama lets out a mournful noise, rearranging the infant in his arms, already reaching out towards him across the table. “Flower-“
But with a rapid shake of his head, A-Lei escapes out of his seat and runs to his room, ignoring his Baba and older brother calling his name. He slides the door shut, locking it for good measure before diving for the refuge of his bed.
He buries his tears into his pillow, stifles his whimpers, before throwing the handkerchief over his head as if to hide from the world.
Underneath his beloved blanket he feels safe and loved and coddled.
Underneath it, he can pretend he still is.
💮
The door slams shut and the family is left in mute horror.
The anger that had been clinging to the female disappears entirely, leaving behind sickly guilt sitting heavy in her stomach, akin to a stone that sinks to the bottom of lotus pier when tossed overboard
She knew one day her temper would escape her mouth in the form of words that would cause great hurt, results both uncontrollable and devastating. Her mother could withstand them, see the truth, the fear that lies hidden beneath the twisted barbs laced with hints of cruelty.
A-Lei could not.
Lan Qiren clears his voice. “I believe dinner is finished. It’s best we all retire for the evening.”
Everyone agrees and those who don’t reside in the hanshi make their silent departure. As the rest of their children wander to their bedrooms, Jiang Cheng hands the baby off to his husband, signaling he’ll go check on A-Lei.
In the hallway, Jiang Cheng tries to open the door and finds it locked. A quick talisman has it sliding open, discovering a little unmoving lump lying in the bed, the rise and fall of A-Lei’s body. Somehow his son forgoing the strict proper Lan position for sleep troubles him more than he would care to admit.
A presence presses against his back, taking his weight and bearing his silent troubles. “Little Star is already out in their crib,” A-Huan remarks softly, eyes not straying for their second youngest. A peak over his shoulder finds a discomforted pinch between the Lan Sect Leader’s brows, observing the unusual state in which Flower is sleeping. Jiang Cheng is relieved he’s not alone in his discomfort.
Firm footsteps stop beside them, drawing their attention down to the side. It’s Lan Yanli, who gazes silently into the room. Her face is firm, as it always is, but the tale sign of guilt is the way her head is silently dipped, unable to meet their eyes.
“I wanted to apologize,” her voice uncharacteristically soft.
Lan Yanli enters the room, uncaring that her brother is fast asleep. Her toes bump the edge of the mattress and she bends down to crawl to where her little brother sleeps curled up. Apologies are difficult, especially when she’s learned as a girl to do what she wants and never look back, especially when facing a cultivation world that values men more.
But family is a different story. She leans close and kisses his younger brother’s soft cheek. “You didn’t hurt Mama. You make them so happy, you make all of us so happy. Back then it was bad…we-we could’ve lost both of you.” Her mouth thins at the memory. “Don’t you know even jie-jie gets scared too?” she whispers in her slumbering baby brother’s ear, not arousing even as she lays her secrets bare.
She huffs, more at herself than anything else but places one more kiss to his cheek before she crawls back off the bed. She stops in front of her parents and keeps her eyes low. Her father reaches out to pat her head gently, her outburst already a thing in the past.
Jiang Cheng leans over and pecks her head, grinning kindly. “Get some rest, Bunny.
Lan Yanli opens her mouth, about to complain about the name, but instead sighs, allowing it for just tonight. She wanders back into the hallway, feet headed to her room.
Now just the two of them, the two sect Leaders enter into the room, carefully taking a seat on either side of the bed, huddling close to their son, mindful not to disturb his sleep. He surely needs it after that disaster of a dinner conversation.
Jiang Cheng gently picks up the handkerchief from where it lays on the pillow, carefully examining it. He makes a noise of discontent when he finds something.
“What troubles you?” his husband inquires, carefully tracing his finger over A-Lei’s ear. He rarely gets to indulge in small comforts when their son is always on the move or awakens at the slightest sound during the night, so much like himself.
“There’s a hole, right here,” Jiang Cheng points to the corner where a knick has begun to wear through, about the size of a lotus seed. “I should sew it before it worsens. Heaven knows what he would do without this beloved old thing.” Even then, Jiang Cheng carefully thumbs at the lotus, treasuring the keepsake.
His husband’s face goes soft. “My heart is intuitive. Perhaps that will cheer him up.”
The two glance down at their sleeping son, carefully leaning down to kiss his head, a press of lips against each temple before they depart together with the keepsake, shutting the door softly behind them.
Alone, A-Lei turns in his sleep, breathing steady, hands opening and closing, searching for something precious that has gone amiss.
💮
When A-Lei wakes up in the early morning hours, right at disciplined 6 am, he yawns, stretching his whole body as he brings his handkerchief up to wipe his-
His fingers poke clumsily at his face and his eyes widen.
He shoots up onto his feet, staring down at his bed. His handkerchief is missing! He digs in between the sheets and blankets, even going as far as searching on the floor or in his chest and drawers, lifting the edge of his mattress, but it’s…it’s…
It’s gone.
He falls to his knees upon the floorboards, devastation sitting on his tiny shoulders. He could have sworn he ran from dinner last night with it. Has it been taken? Is this punishment for not being a big boy? Punishment for breaking the rules? Punishment for hurting mama when he wasn’t even born yet?
He can’t even muster up any tears, too dissolute to do such a thing. Yet even then, his eyes sting and his mouth trembles in a grimace. He tried his best, he swears he did!
He can hear movement around the hanshi, others getting dressed and ready for a day that’s beginning awful. A-Lei climbs to his feet, feeling threadbare for all of his nearly five years on this earth and gets dressed himself, sullen and withdrawn.
The thought of food turns his stomach. He can hardly eat any breakfast. He allows himself to be guided to the classroom, usually something he looks forward to so dearly, yet even lessons with the Lan preschool teacher and the other children can’t lift his spirits. By the time they finish and lunch draws near, Jiang Lei feels the world has become gray and dull and his happiness has evaporated like a mist that slips between his fingers.
Arriving early back to the hanshi, it’s then a thought strikes him where he stands. Maybe his handkerchief is where he had originally found it! His parents bedroom!
Tiptoeing carefully to the door, he sneaks in and finds that the room is empty, save for little Star in their crib, who seems to have just woken up from a nap and is engaged with the discovery of their own feet. The four-year-old inspects every inch of the room with keen eyes, hoping to catch a glimpse of the treasure he seeks.
It’s then he spots it! The familiar white cloth sticking out of a wooden chest atop a bureau.
“Ah ah!” his sibling exclaims, wiggling their limbs in excitement, and A-Lei shushes them softly, finger to his mouth. This is a special mission, and it has to be the utmost secret.
A-Lei stretches on his little toes, tiny fingers reaching and just barely managing to skim the edge of his beloved handkerchief. But alas, he’s too short. Huffing, he bends his knees, hands poised in the air like claws as he prepares himself for the launch.
Then, he jumps.
By miracles abound, A-Lei manages to grab the corner and yanks the edge of the handkerchief free. Unfortunately, the momentum takes the chest along with it. He lands on wobbly feet and stumbles back, falling on his butt as the chest crashes not more than a foot away, scattering the needles and wooden spools of yarn across the wooden flooring. It’s loud and alarms his younger sibling, who wails at the sudden sound.
A-Lei lifts a finger, trying to shush the fourth month old, but Little Star proceeds to scream even louder.
Hurried footsteps approach from down the hallway and A-Lei scampers away, running frenzied to the outside door and banging it open, taking off outside and running as fast as he can through the woods.
He escapes with his prize possession, knowing that surely such a disturbance will get him in big trouble. The thought of punishment has his little heart racing in his chest. He’s heard jiejie and gege sometimes whispering about what happens to those people who misbehave, usually meeting the discipline whip or sent into seclusion.
He huffs and puff as he makes it to the bridge, the one spanning across a waterfall that dampens his cheeks, tiny pounding feet racing across the sturdy wooden planks. Almost there! Almost there!
Even making it across the bridge, he has to to hike up the mountain, having to climb on certain parts using his hands and feet.
After the last crest, he races through the trees and finally finds himself sprinting through the grassy knoll, white hopping clouds there to greet him.
He collapses right in the midst of the bunny field, curling around his handkerchief, unwilling to be parted from it. Even when the fear of punishment is so overwhelming, he refuses to let it go. He doesn’t wanna be a big boy, he doesn’t wanna to grow up. He just wants to be held and hugged and told he’s still their little flower. He tried being big and brave, he really tried, but now he’s done trying.
Soft fur brushes against his head and face as bunnies hop closer to him, sniffing at his face with their ticklish whiskers. His own nose scrunches at the touch, but he can’t muster any giggles. Not when little tear tracks fall down his cheeks, watering the grass.
Sometime later, nearing dinner time, Lan Wangji enters the bunny field, surveying the area. His stoic face gives nothing away when he sees all his bunnies remain at ease, with no sign of his young nephew. A few are clustered together here and there, but otherwise hopping around freely, undisturbed.
“Mhm”, the second Jade of Lan hums.
With that he leaves, continuing his search for A-Lei, hoping his husband, brother, or brother-in-law had more luck in their search.
💮
Hours pass as the sun withdraws behind the clouds and the sky grows dark. Bunnies perk their ears up when Lan Jingyi runs into the field, Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling half a step behind. The eldest Lan-Jiang son huffs, frot with worry, hands on his hips. “Shit, he’s not here either. Where the hell-“
“A-Ming.” Lan Sizhui points out, towards a circle of bunnies clustered around something towards the edge of the field. Lan Jingyi hurries over and as the bunnies scatter away, he breathes a sigh of relief to see his little brother curled up fast asleep, clutching his handkerchief.
In the tall grass, A-Lei looks so tiny and helpless.
He scoops up A-Lei into his arms, holding him close and savoring that he’s alright. The younger Jiang snuggles into his chest, thumb hooked into his mouth along with a corner of his beloved handkerchief. Jin Ling and Lan Sizhui flank his sides, the former carefully patting the slumbering child’s head while bunnies sniff at the hem of their robes.
Lan Sizhui spares the fluffy creatures a kind glance. “Thank you for looking after him.”
They quietly depart from the field, coming upon harried disciples who visibly relax when spotting Sect Leader Lan’s young son safe and sound in his eldest brother’s arms. A few disciples hurry off to inform the elders and Lan Qiren, their Yeye no doubt ready to faint if they didn’t locate the second youngest grandchild soon.
Making their way back to the hanshi, his parents and uncles linger outside, immediately relieved at the sight of their eldest son and cousins escorting their second youngest. The baby of the family points from their perch in Wei Wuxian’s arms, babbling, “A Mi! Le!”
Forming words are still a work in progress for the Little Star.
Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng hasten to the teens, relieved their flower is alright, still sound asleep and sucking his thumb. “Where was he?” Lan Xichen asks, gently touching A-Ming’s elbow, careful not to jostle his hold on A-Lei.
“The bunny fields, hidden beneath a few of them.” Lan Jingyi explains, adding the last part to ease the troubled frown of his uncle Wangji, the stoic Lan’s pinch between his brows giving away the guilt he feels at having missed the younger’s hiding place. Those tricky rabbits.
Wei Wuxian pokes his husband’s cheek, attempting to lift his spirits while little Star pulls on a strand of his long hair, stuffing it in their mouth.
“Not food,” Lan Wangji remarks but otherwise allows the youngest Lan to continue their feast.
Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen both reach towards A-Lei, ready to scoop the youngest son into their arms, but find themselves stalling when A-Lei lets out a whimper in his sleep at the touch, who burrows further into his eldest brother’s chest, fist curling around the lapel of his robe. His other hand clutches subconsciously to his handkerchief, tight to him, as if scared it’s gonna be snatched from his grasp.
Taken aback by the unconscious aversion to their parent’s touch, Lan Jingyi gawks uncertainly, both esteemed cultivators unable to mask the troubled looks they sport. “I..I can put him to bed,” their eldest volunteers.
The two adults recover, dipping their heads and moving aside as his mother silently motioning to the door. Jingyi maneuvers past his parents and uncles, retiring into the hanshi while A-Lei clutches at his robes, tiny puffs of breath hitting his chest.
Lying his younger brother in bed, he carefully unlaces his boots and removes his outer robes, all the while being very gentle to not awaken his brother from his sleep, which should happen given A-Lei tends to awake at the drop of a pin, but the younger continues slumbering, exhaustion probably getting the best of him.
It hasn’t gone unnoticed that A-Lei has been having a tough few days, exhibiting withdrawn and overly emotional behavior, and it’s concerned them all, their parents more than any. Poor thing also hasn’t been eating a lot either. He knows A-Li’s outburst yesterday during dinner hurt the young boy deeply, however Lan Jingyi worries the troubles don’t end there.
He tucks the blankets around his brother, leaning over to caress a few baby hairs away from his forehead. Flower has always been the sweetest of the bunch, but it breaks the older Lan’s heart to see him wilting.
He presses his lips upon that tiny nose. “Sweet dreams A-Lei,” he prays, tucking his younger brother’s hand protectively over the one still clutching the handkerchief.
💮
A-Lei wakes up groggy, rubbing his fist in his eye at the distant commotion outside. Discomforted by the noise, he sits up, confused that he somehow ended up back in his bed, legs tangled in his blankets. His bare feet squirm against the mattress as he squints, realizing it’s still dark outside, which means it’s a time he shouldn’t be awake.
What could have awoken him?
The answer comes from a distant bang that has him jumping, unconsciously rubbing his handkerchief against his cheek in a soothing manner. Another bang has him scrambling out of bed, tripping in his sheets until he manages to free himself, rushing to the door. He slides it open, finding his own siblings already in the hallway, staring towards his parent’s room.
His Mama and Baba come rushing out of their room, Star in his mother’s arms, whining. His Mama passes them into Jingyi’s arms, voice firm. “Go find your cousins and take your siblings to the hidden cave. Any younger disciples you stumble upon along the way, take them too.”
“I can fight,” his eldest brother remarks, all the while rubbing Little Star’s back who gnaws anxiously on the tail end of the eldest son’s ribbon.
His Baba lightly touches his eldest's shoulder. “We know you are more than capable, but your younger siblings need you.”
The eldest Lan spares a glance down to frowning A-Bai and grumpy A-Li before settling A-Lei, who of all three looks the most scared, clutching the edge of the doorframe, little handkerchief braced against his cheek. With a resigned sigh, he bows, accepting his parents’ order.
“We’ll be back soon. Stay close with your brother,” his Mama commands all of them, reaching out to touch each of their cheeks before an explosion beyond the tree line pauses his hand and he’s suddenly rushing out of the hanshi, his Baba close behind.
“Get dressed quickly!” His eldest brother commands with a no-nonsense tone that has A-li and A-Bai hurrying back into their rooms. A-Ming guides him back into his, lying Star on the bed before pulling a random pair of outer robes from a drawer, helping A-Lei into it, tying the sash off hastily. Star gurgles while flailing their arms, whining at the lack of attention while Jingyi stuffs his brother’s tiny feet into his boots, lacing them up.
“What’s going on, Da-ge?” A-Lei whimpers, clutching onto his older brother’s shoulders, terrified of the distant rumbles.
“I don’t know,” he finishes a knot and leans down to scoop up Little Star, before grabbing a hold of A-Lei’s hand in the other. “But don’t worry, we’ll be safe. Come on.”
A-Lei is pulled back into the hallway, A-Li and A-Bai already dressed and carrying their swords. The second youngest almost pouts, wanting his wooden sword that he left back in Yeye’s office but another bang has him trembling, forgetting the wish entirely.
“Take A-Lei’s hands and follow me. Stick close and whatever you do, don’t wander off.”
The two middle children dip their heads, Lan Yanli taking one of A-Lei’s hands and Jiang Bai taking another. Then he’s being coaxed into running as his older brother hurries down the hallway, keeping a firm grip of their younger brother.
Going outside to be met with the night sky lighting up with black smoke and orange clouds in the distance has A-Lei gripping tightly onto his brother and sister’s hands. It’s a scary sight and he instead keeps his eyes glued to the back of A-Ming’s robes, finding comfort in the fact he’s close by. His little feet do try to keep up with the fast, nearly tripping at the fast pace if not for his older siblings holding him up.
“A-Ming!” Lan Sizhui and Jin Ling run towards the five. The latter exclaims, “Did you see-"
“There’s no time,” his eldest brother cuts off, already making his way across the landing. “Come on!”
The cousins don’t argue and join them, A-Lei is fearful, anxiously casting glances back at the hanshi and frightened when it disappears from sight. He must have slowed his pace a little because a sharp tug from his sister has him nearly tripping forward if not for the quick catch of his brother.
Lan Yanli says something drowned by the commotion but Jiang Bai waves her off, taking over the reins of escorting their baby brother. Freed from such, she races ahead to stick close to the older ones, withdrawing her sword to defend against any stray attackers.
Jiang Bai pulls him along, their hands holding tightly to one another, feet bounding across the wood. They’re about a few feet trailing behind the others when a boom rocks the earth, nearly throwing them to the floor, his brother once again keeping him upright.
A voice shouts somewhere close by. “Look out!”
Suddenly Jiang Bai pushes him backwards out of harm’s way, A-Lei helplessly to stop the force from sending him skidding along the floorboards, so far that he tips over the edge of the landing and rolls into the soft grass, cascading down a small slope just as a bright light shakes the earth, his tiny hands slapping themselves over his ears at the loudness.
After a moment, he uncurls and shakily stands up, not spotting any of his family. “A-Bai? A-Li?” His lips begin to quiver. “A-Ming? A-Yuan?! A-Ling?!”
None of his family answer his calls.
He turns in circles, clutching his handkerchief tightly, scared at the sounds of fighting, the mixture of black and white robes rushing around that tower over his small frame. It’s too dark to recognize anyone, there’s just too many people running around, too many loud voices.
Frightened, he hurries back up the slope and retreats into the first shelter he finds, opening the door and shutting it quickly behind him, the noise from outside now muffled. His little hands clutch tightly to his handkerchief, his feet itching backwards, eyes glued to the door. The room is so quiet all he can hear is his terrified panting. Occasionally it’s interrupted by muddied shouts and a few screams of pain from just beyond the thin sliding door, followed by another loud bang, so much closer this time he whimpers. He doesn’t know what’s going on but it’s all too scary!
Swiping at his stinging eyes with the back of his hand, all he wants is his mama and his baba. He wants his siblings and cousins. He wants his uncles and yeye. He wants his family!
Having backed up without watching where he is going, he accidentally bumps into something hard, flailing his arms in the air like a whip before he falls flat on his butt with an “oof!”. Something heavy thuds overhead, rolling across the mantle he knocked into before a solid item drops into his lap,
Emotional outbursts momentarily paused, A-Lei picks it up, turning it over in his hands. It’s gold and shaped strangely with a black gem in the middle. It feels warm to the touch that sends tingle along his arms, down all the way to the tips of his toes that curl in his boots.
It’s pretty strange looking for a toy.
Curious, he carefully pokes the bead, retracting his hand and flinching in case something bad happens, but nothing does. He shakes it up and down, smacks it against his palm, and even brings it up to his ear, yet it makes no sound.
Frowning with a pout, he doesn’t have much time to consider what it could be when heavy foot falls near the outer door before it’s thrown open by scarily unfamiliar faces that have the little boy letting out a terrified squeak!
The intruders look towards the altar, discovering it’s empty. Eyes tracking to the high-pitched noise, they see a small scared child clutching what they came for.
“The kid has the seal!” One of the soldiers shouts, one tries to rush forward and is suddenly thrown back outside by a force that has him yelling and the others cursing.
While the others are distracted, A-Lei scrambles up and runs to the side door like last time, throwing it open and hurrying outside, unknowingly still holding onto the weighted item.
He runs, unable to distinguish where he’s headed, but doesn’t slow down. He avoids any of the fighting, hoping to run back to the hanshi where surely he’ll find his family. But abruptly the plan is halted when a shadow leaps in front of him, poised with his arms out to make itself look bigger.
A-Lei runs through the vee of the legs, attempting to get away when he’s pulled back, finding himself in a tug of war with that shadow. The moon flashes against the face and the shadow is ugly and scary looking. This bad man pulls on his handkerchief, dirty hands marrying the white fabric.
“Give it here, kid!” the man shouts, teeth decaying and ugly, reaching out towards him.
“Let go!” He pulls and pulls, not realizing that the previous tear is widening in the struggle until the shadow gets hit by something on the side. Letting go of the handkerchief with a pained shout, freeing its owner as A-Lei turns back and books it through the forest, twisting and turning down a winding path. He needs to get somewhere safe, somewhere he’ll be happy.
‘The bunny fields!’ he immediately grasps a hold of the idea and hurries towards the destination.
💮
Outside the Mingshi, Lan Sizhui searches fruitlessly for his missing cousins in the fray, Lan Jingyi doubling back to the hanshi in hopes they're there. Whipping his head back and forth, he pauses when he spots a tiny white figure disappearing into the woods, headed down the mountain. But he's downright terrified when he seeing the child is being pursued by a few of these rogue cultivators.
He rushes after them, sword withdrawn, praying he'll reach his cousin in time.
💮
Arriving at the familiar passage he had taken not more than a day ago, A-Lei pauses in his steps.
The bridge is broken, pieces missing and others jutting out, leaning sideways. It looks unsafe, but the four-year-old knows it’s the only way he can get to the bunny fields. Taking a deep breath he hurries to the edge, bending down to crawl along the precarious ledge, using one hand curled around his handkerchief on the floor to balance as his knees shuffle forward, while the other clutches the toy to his heart like they are the most precious things in the world.
Unbeknownst to the four-year-old, a shard of wood catches onto the frayed hole of the handkerchief sticking out, gradually pulling the thread loose, a trail of white yarn behind him while the child crawls to the lone standing pillar.
Someone shouts high up, nearly drowned out by the waterfall before a thud rumbles the ground, giving the bridge a precarious shake. It momentarily pauses the child before he continues.
He’s steadily crawling, his heartbeat in his ears when he sadly reaches a dead end. The rest of this side he crawled on is destroyed, a gaping hole about five feet in length that’s too big for his tiny legs to leap across. He’ll have to turn back. A distant tremble in the earth has him hastily getting to his feet and wrapping his arms around the wooden pillar, clutching with all his might to it.
Of course, that’s when the pillar gives a swift lurch, the spooked shout stolen out of his mouth. He whimpers, clutching to the pillar and dares not move. He’s too scared to even try.
“Mama! Baba!” He cries for his parents, tearful and scared as he holds tightly to the pillar of the bridge as it shakes beneath his grip, slowly starting to tip sideways. He yells, clanking the weighted toy against the pillar as he readjusts his grip, terrified of the dizzying height of the waterfall drop. One terrifying peak has his legs trembling; it’s so far down he can’t even see the bottom beyond the misty clouds.
“A-Lei!” a faint shout over the roar of the waterfall, the clanging of swords clashing somewhere up on higher ground. He looks up, letting out a sob when he spots Lan Suzhi’s white robes as he duels on the higher ledge.
“A-Yuan!” he bawls tearfully, reaching a tiny hand out to him, the disciple unable to comfort the younger as he’s distracted by the fight.
Creaking footsteps near draw his attention back down, finding another bad man is inching towards him on the precarious ledge of the bridge, his weight causing another shake as A-Lei scrambles to hold tighter to the pillar.
“Come on kid, give it here,” The scary man coaxes, his sinister expression has A-Lei trembling, fearfully shying away from that outstretched dirty hand. “I won’t hurt ya.”
“Stop fooling around and just take it!” An injured bad man lying on the ground orders, hissing at the pain as he clutches his stomach.
The man then grins at him menacingly, revealing nasty looking teeth.
But suddenly there’s a sharp cracking sound right below them, and the bad man’s sickening smile disappears, overtaken by something akin to the fear. The wooden bridge beneath their feet splinters, the combined weight coupled with the extensive damage buckling the precarious edge. It drags a petrified shout from A-Lei before he finds himself danglingly, only spared from the fall by the sizable tear of his handkerchief caught on a wooden splinter sticking out near the face of the cliff.
The bad soldier however is not so lucky, howling as he hurls towards the water below, disappearing into the fog. The waterfall is too loud to even hear the expected splash.
Whimpering fearfully, A-Lei kicks his little legs helplessly, trying to find any footing where there is none. He clings tightly to his handkerchief while holding the toy to his chest, as he wails. And that’s before he hears a noise over the roar of the waterfall that sends him into a panic: the sharp tear of cloth, his beloved handkerchief ripping slowly, bit by bit.
“Mama! Baba! Sh-shizhui!” he sobs loudly, moisture blocking his vision.
The panic-inducing noise stops, all fallen still for just a moment, before the last thread snaps and A-Lei plummets into the abyss.
💮
Withdrawing his sword from the fallen soldier with a sickening squelch, Lan Yuan rushes down the cleared embankment trail. He skids around the corner, grace abandoned, and hurries to the bridge.
Arriving there, his feet halt, the grip on his weapon slipping as it drops to the ground.
The bridge is destroyed, less than half the arch still remains, the edges of the splintered wood stick out haphazardly.
But there’s no one there. No little Jiang in sight.
They’ve taken A-Lei.
💮
Jiang Cheng kicks the body off his sword, grimacing at the state of things. He doesn’t know who these fuckers are but he swears he’s gonna find the leader of these bandits and make them pay.
“My heart,” he turns to see his husband disheveled but otherwise unharmed, reaching for him. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” he shakes his head, but lets A-Huan inspect him, while he surveys the damage to the residence of the Gusu Lan Sect.
The deafening booms were explosions, a mixture of fire and magic, black power that destroyed some of the structures and left a few fires burning, however nothing like wreckage when Cloud Recess was ambushed decades ago. Squinting at the ground, he spots a few bodies of these rogue cultivators, yet thankfully none dressed in white. The Lan disciples had also managed to drive out the intruders who were left standing, but it leaves so many questions. What was the point of this surprise attack?
“Lan Zhan!” the familiar and relief-inducing sound of his brother’s whining reaches his ears, Jiang Cheng and his husband turning to see Wei Wuxian pouting while Lan Wangji sheaths his sword, having just slain an intruder. “I could’ve gotten that one!”
“Protect Wei Ying,” is all the studious Second Jade of Lan says. God, those two are saps.
His husband pulls him close, Jiang Cheng leaning into him gratefully. “Come, lets go make sure the children are okay.”
They’re about to head to the caves when a voice calls out to them, fear gripping his lungs. “Jiu-jiu!”
They four adults spot Jin Ling at the top of the hill, hurrying down the slope. Jiang Cheng immediately rushes towards him, gripping his arms to stop him from tripping. “A-Ling, you’re supposed to be hiding out in the caves with the others.”
His nephew attempts to catch his breath. “We didn’t make it because...because there was an explosion! And we all got separated. A-Ming went back to the hanshi to try and find the younger ones and A-Yuan searched elsewhere. I haven’t seen them since.”
The news drops like lead in his stomach and Jiang Cheng feels Xichen tense up behind him while their brothers immediately hurry up the hill to try to help search. “Okay, let’s go look-”
Suddenly the night sky alights with blue sparks, all pausing with a snap of their heads to observe the flare, calling for aid.
💮
Lan Sizhui doesn’t know how long he stands there, staring off helplessly into the moonlight sky. He thinks in his dazed state he manages to send off a talisman, one to call his parents and uncles, one to warn he needs help.
It takes some time before voices reach his ears. “…hear me? A-Yuan?!” It’s his mother, his rubs at his arms, trying to arouse him from his stupor.
Lan Sizhui hums, but can’t seem to look away from the sky. Jin Ling wanders into his vision, waving a hand in front of his face. Even then the shocked Lan disciple doesn’t react to it.
Other noises drift in and out of his ears: brush of robes, hushed conversations, the crackling of burnt wood.
He catches a disciple informing someone of news. “The tiger amulet is gone, Sect Leader.”
There’s a gruff curse somewhere. “I knew we shouldn’t have kept that thing here.”
Footsteps races into the area. “Baba, Mama!” A curious gurgle of a baby, heavy panting from a pair of young cultivators.
“A-Ming,” a stern voice reprimands.
“I know, Ma. We're going to the caves, I swear. But there was an explosion-”
“We know, Tadpole,” a gentle voice intercepts. “A-Ling informed us.”
“But Baba, we can’t find A-Lei. We’ve been searching everywhere for him.”
A curse from that fierce voice, before another addresses disciples. “Forget about the amulet or any other concern for the moment. All efforts will be focused to search for our son, and leave no stone unturned.”
The words snap Lan Sizhui out of his daze. “A-Lei,” his voice is faint, barely heard over the waterfall.
A touch on his arm rouses him from his stupor. “A-Yuan”, a grip turns him towards Sect Leader Jiang, sweaty and sporting smudges on his face but otherwise unharmed. His uncle stares into his eyes, his voice cautious but stern. “What about A-Lei?”
“We got separated during the explosion. I saw him being pursued by some of the intruders so I chased after him,” he answers faintly.
“Okay,” Uncle Xichen lightly touching his other arm, mindful of his nephew’s fragile state. “Can you tell us where he is? Did you see where he went?”
The teenager’s eyes start to glisten. “They took him,” he cries, the Jiang Sect Leader immediately glaring off in the distance of the skyline, murder marring his features.
“What’s wrong with A-Yuan?” Jiang Bai asks. “Did he find A-Lei?”
The adults close enough to have heard Huanguang-Jun’s son hesitate to answer, unsure how much should be disclosed to attentive little ears. The last thing anyone wants is for the two certain Jiang-Lans to decide another night hunt escape act is the best manner to rescue their little brother.
The moment is broken by ugly, crude laughter choking up from the ground. It’s coming from a heavily injured rogue cultivator clutching his insides, blood dripping down his mouth. All of the Lan sect and company glare at the sight, dignified fury directed at any of those involved in having just attacked their sect, their home.
The First Jade of Lan approaches the man, laying the tip of his sword in the hollow of the intruder’s throat, demeanor thunderous while his voice remains even. “Perhaps if you tell me where they took our son, I can ease your passing.”
The demonic cultivator smiles at this, blood seeping through his teeth. “I don’t think where he’s gone, you’ll be able to find him, oh revered Zweu-jun.”
Little patience for bullshit, Jiang Cheng stomps over and snatches the man by the lapels of his robes, pulling him up to meet his raging sneer. “Speak plainly scum. While my husband may be merciful, I am most certainly not.”
Undeterred by the very plausible threat, the man's delighted grin refused to falter. “I’m afraid your brat took a little tumble when the ledge of the bridge collapsed,” he giggles.
The words turn the Sandu Shengshou’s veins to ice, and rattles the steady hold Xichen has on the hilt of Shuoyue. The palpable rage wiped clean off of the Jiang Sect Leader’s face, “…what?”
“You’re damn well lying,” Wei Wuxian spits, fists clenched and seething alongside his enraged husband and son. His fearsome niece beside him is about to draw her sword and run this monster through for daring to say such things.
All Lan disciples fall hushed, while the man mocks, “Maybe it will bring you comfort to know the last thing your son did was cry for his parents and his little Lan friend.” He snickers cruelly before imitating a high-pitched voice, “ Mama! Baba! Sh-Shizhui!,” before chortling cruelly.
Wrecked by a full bodied flinch, Lan Sizhui’s face crumples into a tormented expression, while Jiang Cheng doesn’t resist punching the man’s face, relishing in the sickening snap of his head.
Lan Xichen pushes the tip of his sword a little closer to his neck, threatening to draw blood. Yet even when death is so close, the man just continues, now sporting a broken nose, “Does it hurt to know such renowned cultivators, victors of the Sunshot Campaign, Sect leaders of large, powerful sects, couldn’t save their own child?”
“You shut your mouth!” Jin Ling commands, stepping closer, sword withdrawn.
But the man’s humor is cut short as he begins to choke on his own blood, a horrible gurgling sound arising from his throat. The adults shield the children's’ faces from the sight as his head tilts back as blood floods from his mouth, succumbing to his wounds, until he falls still.
Scoffing, Jiang Cheng drops his dead body carelessly, not willing to believe such outrageous lies.
“Don't listen to that vermin. By sword, they couldn’t have gone too far,” Wei Wuxian nears his shidi, cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll also check the bunny fields, perhaps A-Lei took refuge there like earlier.”
“Mhm,” Lan Wangji agrees, already about to mount bichen to check.
But as Jiang Cheng goes to turn away, he pauses at the flicker of white in the corner of his eye. Squinting, he realizes it’s a piece of fabric stuck to the broken edge of the bridge, ruffling in the misty breeze.
“Uh, Sect Leader Jiang?” one of the disciples prompts of the unmoving form.
Wei Wuxian squeezes his brother’s shoulder, worried at the lack of response he receives. “A-Cheng?” Lan Wangji wanders closer to the two, concerned at the mute demeanor of his best friend.
“Wanyin?” His husband prods, casting a glance between the decimated bridge and his beloved’s face, one beginning to pale in hue.
All watch silently as Jiang Cheng extracts himself from his brother’s hold, wandering closer to the bridge. He then crouches down and carefully plucks a familiar torn corner of a worn, well-loved handkerchief from the splintered wood. Calloused fingers unfold the crumbled edge to reveal a tiny frayed lotus still visible.
It’s a fabric every occupant that resides in Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang is familiar with, one that never leaves it’s tiny owner’s hand, not since he was just a babe.
“A-Huan,” Jiang Cheng chokes out, his gaze becoming flooded with moisture. The noise wrings jolts throughout the present company, most having never seen Sandu Shengshou sounding so uncomposed.
Immediately, his husband is there on the ground beside him, an arm around his trembling shoulders, pulling him close. Lungs gripped in a tight vice, Lan Xichen’s trembling, lithe fingers thumb at the torn fabric edge, their Sect Leader’s own eyes are wet with disbelief. The couple stares over the edge of the cliff, the dizzying fall itself stealing their breath at the very thought of – no please no no
A few paces behind the grieving couple, their children shift nervously at the open display of grief.
“W-Where’s A-Lei?” Jiang Bai asks, voice unsteady, glancing at the somber faced disciples then to the adults he trusts most. “Uncle Ji? Yeye?” The boy looks up to his granduncle, who carefully pulls the boy into his side, blankly staring at the bridge, the barest slump in his steadfast posture he might as well have collapsed.
Wei Wuxian’s hand grips Lan Yanli’s stiff shoulder, her face buried in his hip, seemingly stoic if not for the dampness spreading along his hip. A stray tear escapes his eyes at the sight of the crumbling couple near the cliff face, when he turns to meet the gaze of his husband, the wet pain evident in his golden gaze. Nearby their son slowly shakes his head, becoming tatters in Jin Ling’s arms, whose young face is ashen and moist.
In a shiny-eyed Lan Jingyi’s tight arms, the youngest Jiang whines, growing teary and distressed at the somber quiet and the cold that permeates the air.
Everyone stares at what was once a mighty bridge, the edges of the splintered wood all that remains, the roar of the waterfall drowning out any sounds of bare anguish.
