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I.
That first night, Jiang Cheng didn’t sleep.
It was almost funny. He’d assumed this round of grief would feel the same as the other, but it didn’t. This time, he felt numb from the start. The only thing that shook him from his haze was the faint cry of a baby who wanted it’s mother.
He wandered the paths of Koi Tower, the grounds feeling more complicated than he had words for. People were mourning and people were celebrating and people were sleeping and he couldn’t understand how they were managing to do it all. He could barely feel his feet. How did he get back here from Nightless City in the first place?
He stood outside the entrance to the room that was supposed to be tended to by servants. They were doing a shitty job. He would have them in the morning even though they weren’t his to fire.
Jiang Cheng pushed the door open and saw that it was all dark. He lit a few candles with the wave of his hand and the baby cried louder now that he knew someone was close by. He closed the door and took hesitant steps towards the bed.
He couldn’t tell if it was a good thing or a bad thing that the baby didn’t resemble his A-jie.
Carefully, with shaky hands, he picked up little A-Ling and held him to his chest. He probably held him a little too tight. Be gentle, A-Cheng, A-jie had said because no matter how old he was or how many battles he fought or how powerful he was, he was still young enough that he needed to be told to be gentle with a baby.
He held A-Ling a little tighter.
But A-Ling didn’t cry out or struggle or even act hurt. He seemed to clutch onto Jiang Cheng just as tight, his tiny hand wrapped around Jiang Cheng’s thumb with the same death grip he’d had the first time he’d held him. Maybe he knew, somehow. Maybe he needed it too.
Jiang Cheng let out a shaky breath and let his back hit the wall before he slowly slid down. He landed on the ground and bowed his head over A-Ling, not caring if it gave him perfect access to pull his hair. If anyone came in, he wasn’t sure they’d be able to tell he had a baby in his arms. Good. They’d need to get through him first.
When Jin Ling was born, Jiang Cheng had already decided he was going to protect him with his life. Hell, he decided that long before he was born. The protective feeling that brewed in his gut, melding with the grief and making him feel ill, was hardly anything new. But now it seemed like a much more important job. It wasn’t just him being an uncle anymore.
Surely Jin Guangshan and Madam Jin would both want to have a say in what to do now that Jin Ling, their heir, was an orphan. Jiang Cheng wasn’t going to make it easy. He had never been a fan of the Jin Sect‒he wasn’t really a fan of most people, truly‒and he had no intention of letting them be the primary influence on A-Ling. A-jie, as kind as she was, wouldn’t want that.
And he had no intention to do anything she wouldn’t want. Not anymore.
Tears, more of them, pricked Jiang Cheng’s eyes as he stared at his nephew. He was trying so hard to keep it together. He was so tired of breaking down, of feeling weak, of flailing under the weight of pressure. He was a fucking Sect Leader. He needed to be strong.
Then A-Ling whined a bit more and squirmed in his arms, squeezing his thumb with all his might. Jiang Cheng did his best to cradle him closer, hold him like A-jie did so he would feel safe. But he wasn’t his sister and A-Ling was aware of that and he cried.
Fat tears rolled over his chubby little cheeks, fresh and so relentlessly sad for reasons that he didn’t have words for. Jiang Cheng couldn’t help it when his own tears raced down his face at a much faster pace, accumulating at his neck and around the fabric of his robes and making him feel gross. A few landed on A-Ling too and it seemed he was just feeding off of Jiang Cheng’s sadness.
Part of him was glad for it, though. If someone walked by, all they would hear was a baby crying. They’d be none the wiser about Jiang Cheng himself.
“I’m sorry,” he told A-Ling. The words didn’t quite fit into his mouth, but if there was anyone that deserved those words in that moment, it was A-Ling. “I’m sorry.”
He was sorry he didn’t protect A-jie. He was sorry he didn’t follow Jin Zixuan that day. He was sorry he wasn’t able to convince Wei Wuxian to just let things lie. He was sorry that every goddamn move he’d made, everything he’d failed to do, had led to this moment, had led to Jin Ling being without his mother or father to hold him when he cried.
It was easy to blame Wei Wuxian, but wasn’t he just as guilty? He’d failed to convince him to stop. Wasn’t that his only job as a brother? Wasn’t that what A-jie had died trying to do?
No. No, it was him. Wei Wuxian wasn’t his brother, he was a monster. He’d killed so many people. He deserved to die. Jiang Cheng was sure of it. And, well, whenever he wasn’t so sure, he just told himself that it was true over and over.
For minutes or maybe hours or maybe days Jin Ling cried until his little lungs were too tired to continue supporting that kind of screaming and he sniffled himself to sleep. Jiang Cheng held him close still and closed his eyes. Jin Ling had never let go of his thumb.
And Jiang Cheng had no intention of letting him go either.
II.
Jin Guangshan was dead, the direct heir was barely a year old, and the cultivation world was having a moment.
In the months between A-jie’s death and Jin Guangshan’s death, things had been tense and unsure. Every sect had suffered unimaginable losses into the triple digits and everyone was too fragile to really stir anything up. So they blamed Wei Wuxian for it and ignored everything else. The Lan Sect was quieter than normal, their Hangunag-Jun having gone into seclusion for reasons even though they still had lost nearly two-thirds of their clan in the last five years. The Nie Sect was back to training anyone and everyone who wanted to join their forces. The Jin Sect was acting like nothing had happened at all aside from the fact that Jin Guangyao had now begun to take on a larger acting role in the sect. And the Jiang Sect was doing… alright.
Jiang Cheng was still doing his best as Sect Leader, but he’d been spending a lot of his time in Lanling to watch Jin Ling. Within a week of A-jie’s death, they’d simply pawned Jin Ling off to a group of servants and caretakers, none of which were family. It had angered Jiang Cheng perhaps more than it should’ve, but A-jie wouldn’t have wanted that. She wanted Jin Ling to be raised by his parents like they never were. And since his parents weren’t there, Jiang Cheng was more than willing to fill in.
However, now that Jin Guangshan was dead, it posed a very important question. Who would take over as Chief Cultivator and leader of the Jin Sect?
Jiang Cheng tapped his fingers on the floor as he sat and listened to Jin Guangyao’s speech at their impromptu meeting of all the sects. He couldn’t help himself but be distracted. Jin Ling was getting a little more mobile and part of him expected him to crawl into the meeting and screech something incoherent. He liked to hear himself make noises and he wasn’t shy about choosing favorites. It was petty, but Jiang Cheng held a bit of pride in the fact that he would scream and cry if anyone other than his jiujiu picked him up.
By the end of the meeting, with the full support of the Lan Sect and the reluctant backing of the Nie Sect, Jin Guangyao was now acting Sect Leader and Chief Cultivator. Jiang Cheng didn’t mind. In fact, he was quite glad. It gave him the perfect excuse to do what he’d been planning on doing for months.
“Your Excellency, may I have a word with you?” Jiang Cheng asked as most of the attendants began to enjoy the banquet now that the difficult part had been settled. Jin Guangyao smiled timidly at Jiang Cheng and it gave him all the more reason to want to take Jin Ling back to Lotus Pier. He didn’t trust him to raise him.
“Yes, Jiang-zongzhu?” he asked, bowing respectfully. Jiang Cheng stood up straight and raised his chin.
“Concerning A-Ling,” he said, eyeing the other man just a bit, “Your father and I had planned to discuss the logistics once he had his first year, but, as you can see, that conversation never happened. So I’m bringing it to you. I would like to take A-Ling back to Lotus Pier.”
Jin Guangyao blinked and looked over his shoulder where Lan Xichen stood, kind enough to act like he wasn’t listening but not stupid enough to actually do so. Jiang Cheng didn’t waver and tried not to get angry at the sight of the stupid Lan robes and ribbon.
“For how long?”
“Permanently. Until he comes of age to begin taking on Sect duties‒upon which we’ll reconvene and discuss where to go from there,” Jiang Cheng said. He didn’t leave room for argument in his voice. Jin Guangyao’s eyes widened a bit and his lips parted before he smiled to cover up any shock.
“W-With all due respect, Jiang-zongzhu, he’s the heir of LanlingJin. Shouldn’t he be raised here? Wouldn’t that be the proper thing to do?” Jin Guangyao said. Jiang Cheng eyed him again and lazily raised his eyebrow.
“You weren’t.”
Again, a little bit of shock and a big smile to cover it up. A coward. He didn’t want Jin Ling to be raised by him. As if he would be doing any of the raising in the first place.
“He will still visit here as much as he pleases, but I do think it would be best for him to be at Lotus Pier,” Jiang Cheng said.
“But‒”
“At Lotus Pier, he will be raised by family. I won’t be pawning him off the servants, he will be under my care at all times. Can you say the same?” Jiang Cheng asked, raising his voice just a little. It was perhaps too much and Lan Xichen looked over at him. But Jin Guangyao couldn’t say the same. “See it as a favor. While you adjust to your new leadership, I will take him off your hands. Are we clear?”
“I-I suppose that‒”
“Good.”
Jiang Cheng turned on his heel and made his trek out of the banquet. A memory of Wei Wuxian doing the same harassed his mind and he felt Zidian spark at his side at the idea. He didn’t want to have anything in common with him, he was already questioned enough. Too many eyes and too many people saying he was too young even if he was allegedly the one to give the fatal blow to the fearsome Yiling Laozu. He didn’t need them comparing him to Wei Wuxian in anything past that moment.
But he didn’t want to be there and maybe the only good thing Wei Wuxian ever did was take his leave when he knew staying somewhere would only get him in more trouble.
Jiang Cheng found the nursery easily considering he'd made the walk to it multiple times a day. He opened the door and the woman on duty stood up quickly to bow for him. He nodded her way and walked past her to where Jin Ling was playing. He crouched down in front of him.
“You’re dismissed,” he said to the woman without looking her way. She didn’t ask any questions, doing as she was told.
Jin Ling looked up at him, instantly starting to cry as he reached up to be held. He cried a lot, more often than not he was inconsolable. Jiang Cheng usually found it impossible to be bothered by it. At least he was making noise. At least he was here.
“Stop crying,” Jiang Cheng said anyway, “When we get to Lotus Pier, you can’t cry as much. It’ll be very distracting to the disciples when they’re practicing. Do you understand me?”
A-Ling obviously didn’t and he didn’t respond with anything other than a harsh little sniffle and more grabby hands. Jiang Cheng let A-Ling grab a hold on his fingers and he stood up, pulling A-Ling to his feet. They did this every day and A-Ling got a little more independent everyday. Today, however, they took a few shaky steps around the room before A-Ling’s little legs collapsed beneath him. Jiang Cheng had a feeling it was entirely because he wanted to be held.
“I won’t be able to hold you forever, you do understand that, don’t you?” he said, lifting him off the ground by his arm. Jin Ling molded into his chest, his thumb going into his mouth as he cuddled close without hesitation.
Jiang Cheng wanted to hate it, wanted to tell him to stop acting like he was cuddly. But he didn’t want to let go and he didn’t want the day to come when he couldn’t pick him up anymore. If they were alone, why did it matter? Besides, A-Ling was going to be different from him. He was going to be better. And if that meant holding him like A-jie would’ve held him, then he could do it.
“Get your thumb out of your mouth,” Jiang Cheng grumbled quietly, pulling his hand away. A-Ling swatted at him in response and maybe he was supposed to discourage that, but he nodded. “Good, stand your ground.”
And A-Ling put his thumb back into his mouth.
III.
Apparently, raising a child without servants was much more work that Jiang Cheng had realized.
The first year in Lotus Pier, it was going suspiciously well. His disciples were very respectful and understanding and they only spared him a few concerning glances whenever he showed up to training sessions with a sleeping baby strapped to his back. Those glances stopped once they realized it didn’t hinder his ability to best any of them.
He couldn’t say for sure if it was the direct cause, but that was around the time the title of Sandu Shengshou began to circulate more.
He kept A-Ling with him most hours of the day and night, really only sparing him when he needed to eat and Jiang Cheng would pass him off to the wet nurse. (It was a rather awkward thing to acquire in the beginning and Jiang Cheng had admittedly found himself in a brothel in search of one before he realized that was very much not the place to go for a wet nurse. In the end, he’d caved and asked his healers to find one for him. He learned far too much about the lords in Yunmeng by venturing into a place like that.)
It was simple until it wasn’t. A-Ling was getting older and he wanted to run around with cultivators with swords. Jiang Cheng found it hard to deny him the exposure and had given him a wooden sword and let him trail him during training sessions. Any of the disciples that were nervous about A-Ling eventually learned not to be. Besides, forcing them to be even more aware of their surroundings by way of making sure they didn’t accidentally hurt the Jin heir wasn’t a bad thing.
But A-Ling would only stay interested for so long before running off. Jiang Cheng lost him three times–the last of which culminated in a fisherman saving him from the lake–before he hired a servant whose sole job was to make sure A-Ling didn’t run off. It helped a little, but Jiang Cheng’s paranoia didn’t decrease.
It wasn’t even just that, either. No matter how many years he reigned as Sect Leader, no matter how much he proved himself as competent, no matter how highly held he was as the Yiling Laozu’s executor, smaller Sects still saw him as too young and less than. They questioned him and badgered him and treated him like he was a child who had no idea what to do. It was infuriating.
Suddenly, years after A-jie and his brother and his parents were all dead, Jiang Cheng found himself craving their guidance and presence even more. He would try to push it away with anger, but, when he stayed still for too long, his demons would claw their way up his mind. They filled his sleep, repeated dreams of each and every one of them slipping out of his grasp. It became easier to not sleep. It was the worst when A-Ling was in Lanling for a weeks time and Jiang Cheng would find himself staring at the wall only to be shaken back to reality by a very concerned disciple who had brought him his food. It kept happening.
He didn’t cry, though. He wouldn’t let himself. If he did, it was a few tears in the privacy of his room in the middle of the night. That’s where it ended. He refused to let it consume him.
But, as A-Ling became a toddler, Jiang Cheng found himself far in over his head. He was loud and unruly and moody. He cried and he yelled and he was decidedly mean to everyone he encountered and it left Jiang Cheng wondering if he’d been a bad influence after all. And, when other Sect Leaders stopped by, it was clear they thought the same.
Today was a particularly bad day. Jiang Cheng was running on little sleep and Jin Ling had been screeching for hours it seemed, his throat and lungs powering him with the inhuman ability to torture everyone in the vacinity. It was driving Jiang Cheng insane.
“Alright! We’ll meet after a break!” Jiang Cheng snapped to his trainees, receiving thankful bows in response. He didn’t mind them as they quickly fled to get a moment of peace, stalking over to the toddler that was wailing and grabbed him by the arm.
Jiang Cheng hauled him inside the entrance hall and all but tossed him as he slammed the door shut. For a moment, he reminded himself of his mother. It froze him for a moment, but Jin Ling’s proud screeching kept him from feeling bad.
“Stop screaming!” Jiang Cheng yelled. It wasn’t the first time he’d tried that method, but all it did was make Jin Ling take a deeper breath to scream louder or possibly earn a laugh. It was infuriating. “Shut up!”
A-Ling paused just long enough to say, “No!” before screeching even higher. Zidian sparked at his side, but Jiang Cheng wasn’t going to use it on him. He wasn’t going to be his mother. He wasn’t going to have his nephew fear him, not like that. A-jie would never want that.
So telling him to stop didn’t work, ignoring him didn’t work, and even trying to punish him didn’t work–though that might be because he was always unsuccessful at punishing him. He was too little for any proper cultivator punishments, but his golden core was clearly well on its way to being better than his father’s. Which was saying something. Maybe Jin Zixuan would be proud of his son’s lung capacity.
Jiang Cheng stared at him for a moment and considered just locking him alone in this room to tire himself out and he could come back when the screaming stopped. Though, that was probably asking for a disaster. But Jiang Cheng was tired and he’d already spent his night staring at the wall and his breakfast feeling far too disoriented to be of use and he couldn’t take this.
So, he did the only thing he could think. He screamed back. Loud, incoherent screaming.
A-Ling paused for a moment, blinking twice before a shit-eating grin found his little face and he laughed. He looked like Wei Wuxian. He stole the smile of a man he never met. Jiang Cheng felt sick.
And he screamed more. And Jin Ling screamed back. And he screamed until he fell to his knees and he screamed until he couldn’t not scream. Maybe Jin Ling was onto something. Maybe he needed this.
Except then Jiang Cheng’s voice cracked and his hands hit the floor. His eyes burned and he was shaking and the screams weren’t really screams as much as they were sobs, a gruesome mix that physically hurt him. And suddenly he was on his hands and knees and crying in front of his nephew. What a big, bad Sect Leader he was.
But at least A-Ling stopped screaming.
Tiny hands pressed onto Jiang Cheng’s cheeks, unafraid of the way he was sobbing and breaking and how he couldn’t stop.
“Don’t cry, Jiujiu,” A-Ling said, “A-Ling’s not scary.”
Laughter mixed in with his crying for just a moment before it was just crying again. A-Ling wrapped his arms around his neck and pet his hair with rough, uncoordinated hands. As pathetic as Jiang Cheng felt, he could at least find solace in the fact that this would be a memory A-Ling would more than likely forget. No one would really bear witness to his moment of stupid, stupid weakness.
But it felt good to let it out.
Eventually his tears subsided and he pulled away from A-Ling’s hug just a little. Jiang Cheng looked at his face, a concerned pout on his little face. He was so young. He didn’t understand and it was Jiang Cheng’s fault for not teaching him right. God, how did A-jie do it? How did she handle Jiang Cheng when he was a terror?
“No, A-Ling’s not scary,” Jiang Cheng sniffled, putting his hands on either side of his face, “But you will be. No one will boss you around or make you feel incompetant. They’ll all fear you. You’ll be stronger than them all.”
“Jiujiu,” A-Ling said. Jiang Cheng took a deep breath.
“No, you’ll be stronger than me too,” he said, brushing back his hair. A-Ling stared, not quite following what exactly he was saying. Jiang Cheng did that too often, spoke to him like he was grown. Maybe he should stop. “Are you bored, A-Ling? Why are you screaming so much? Are you lonely? Use your words. What do you want to do?”
“I wanna play like them,” A-Ling said, pointing outside as his other hands went to his mouth.
“You’re too young,” Jiang Cheng said before he swallowed harshly, pulling A-Ling’s hand out of his mouth. A-Ling scowled and slapped his wrist, his fingers going back into his mouth. He nodded. “Then I’ll get you a practice sword.”
A-Ling was hardly four years old when Jiang Cheng gave him a specially crafted sword, extremely lightweight with blunt edges and dull spiritual energy, but something nonetheless. Jiang Sect disciples usually didn’t start training properly until they were eight or nine, even Jiang Cheng, the heir, didn’t start until he was nearly seven. But no one questioned him when he gave Jin Ling a sword and a bow and began training him alongside the youngest of shidis, all still twice his age.
It was then that Jiang Cheng really saw the boy’s father in him. He took to the sword like an extension of his arm and seemed to immediately understand the importance of treating it with respect. He didn’t fling it around or act like it was a toy, something that had to be punished out of many of the boys much older than him. He was a natural.
There was a bittersweet feeling that came with that undeniable fact. Jiang Cheng bounced between extreme pride and absolute horror. The last time he’d seen someone be such a natural with cultivation was… Well, A-Ling simply wasn’t going to turn out that way. Jiang Cheng wouldn't let him.
It wasn’t that A-Ling was really listening or becoming better behaved as much as it was that he found a new outlet to get attention through. Instead of screaming when A-Ling attended training sessions with the older disciples, he stood alongside them. He corrected men old enough to be his father on their stance and he scowled, mimicking Jiang Cheng perhaps a little too well with each passing day. Some of them found it endearing while others weren’t quite as fond of being outdone by a child. The other children found it particularly annoying.
But it was better. As much as it hurt to see him grow up, it was thrilling to see him be so strong and skilled so quickly. A-Ling was going to be better than his predecessors. He wasn’t going to make the same stupid mistakes Jiang Cheng did.
He was never going to be weak.
IV.
Jiang Cheng stared at the lifeless black-clad body on the ground.
He wasn’t Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng knew it the moment he begged for mercy, the moment he tried to tell him everything he wanted to hear. Wei Wuxian was a lot of things‒a coward was never one of them.
Jiang Cheng took a step back, letting the blind rage fade into something that simmered beneath the surface once more. It was then that he noticed just how much blood there was. Not just on the floor, but on Jiang Cheng himself. Maybe he got a bit carried away. But, then again, that was this man’s fault for practicing demonic cultivation in Yunmeng.
He wasn’t Wei Wuxian.
So why hadn’t Jiang Cheng stopped?
Before he really had the chance to let that question sink in, frantic knocking pounded on the door. Irritation rose in his system again and he went to the door, throwing it open and demanding an explanation when he’d told them not to bother him. Wang Xiaoli, his head disciple, stood there in clear desperation, but his mouth stayed shut and his eyes widened at the scene behind Jiang Cheng.
“What?” Jiang Cheng spat, causing him to look back at his eyes.
“Apologies, Jiang-zongzhu, but there has been an… incident involving Jin-xiao-gongzi,” Wang Xiaoli said, bowing abnormally low for him. Jiang Cheng felt a few different things hearing that, but they all culminated in anger and he balled his hands into fists so tight that he heard his knuckles crack.
“What kind of incident?”
“Jin-xiao-gongzi followed Liu Jingfei and a few shidis on the night hunt they were tasked with this evening. It wasn’t her fault‒Jin-xiao-gongzi stayed hidden until they came across a fierce corpse and, well…”
“Spit it out.”
“He killed it. It bled as if it was still alive. Jin-xiao-gongzi…” Wang Xiaoli hesitated and his eyes drifted to the demonic cultivator on the floor, “He isn’t taking it well.”
“Where is he now?”
“This disciple had him sent to his room.”
“What good are any of you if you can’t keep an eye on a child?!” Jiang Cheng snapped. There was no use. He and Wei Wuxian got into much more dangerous situations when they were A-Ling’s age. They never once followed a shixiong, that would simply mean being dragged home before they could do anything fun.
How times have changed.
“Apologies, Jiang-zongzhu, this disciple takes full responsibility for not watching Jin-xiao-gongzi while Jiang-zongzhu was… busy.”
Jiang Cheng let out a steady stream of air from his nose, his eyes narrowed at the top of Wang Xiaoli’s head. His mind was muddy with too many thoughts and he wanted to yell at everyone who had been careless enough to lose track of a nine year old boy. But Jiang Cheng was the most at fault for that, wasn’t he?
“Clean up this mess and have someone bring a bath to my room,” Jiang Cheng said instead of punishing Wang Xiaoli. He would just require a longer training session tomorrow.
“Yes, Jiang-zongzhu.”
“And find that damn dog because I know he put it somewhere so no one would know he followed them.”
“Of course, Jiang-zongzhu.”
Jiang Cheng tried to ignore any hint of worry in his mind as he left the room that laid beneath a newly-built watchtower. It was a perfect place to bring demonic cultivators, the perfect place to take anyone that claimed to be the Yiling Laozu and keep them away from Jin Ling.
But apparently he couldn’t keep Jin Ling away from things he shouldn’t be seeing.
Be gentle, A-Cheng, A-jie’s voice said in the back of his mind as he stalked across the grounds to find A-Ling. Any servants or disciples that he passed very quickly jumped out of his way, recognizing the look on his face and choosing not to get involved. His people were loyal and he did his best to give them a reason to be‒but they knew when to leave him alone. And yet a-jie’s voice didn’t.
It’d been long enough now that he couldn’t properly picture her face or hear her voice. And, truly, there wasn’t really anyone alive he could compare notes with. He just had to hope whatever he had in his mind was close enough. That alone was enough to piss him off even more than he already was.
Jiang Cheng heard A-Ling before he saw him, the familiar sound of him crying a steady beacon as it always had been. He got him in his line of sight and paused for a moment, staring at the pitiful image of his nephew covered in dirt and blood and dragging himself down the walkway in his misery. Part of his mind told him that he should just let him go, let him learn to cope on his own. That’s what being an adult was. If he thought he was old enough to go on night hunts, then he was old enough to deal with the aftermath.
He was about to do it, too, until he remembered his own first several night hunts. He had Wei Wuxian beside him, someone to make him want to act tough enough to the point he rarely cried after them, but every time they so much as grazed a knee, A-jie had taken care of them both. She praised them and cuddled them and cleaned them and she would’ve done the same for A-Ling. She should be doing the same for A-Ling.
“A-Ling,” Jiang Cheng called. His little body froze and he sniffled, trying to gather his composure before he turned to his uncle.
“Jiang-zongzhu,” A-Ling said. It was so very clearly meant to be strong and adult, but all Jiang Cheng heard was his broken nephew. And then his bottom lip quivered and more tears poured over his face. “Jiujiu, it breathed. I-I-I didn’t‒It was alive and I-I-I‒”
“This is what happens when you do things you shouldn’t, bad things happen,” Jiang Cheng said simply, “When you don’t listen, people die.”
A-Ling glared at him the best he could through his tears. “You should’ve let me go when I asked!”
“You clearly aren’t ready for it and none of the other disciples will take you seriously if you act this way. No one will want to be on your side if you do things like endanger everyone on a night hunt because you want to show off,” Jiang Cheng said, shaking his head, “I should make you do handstands or kneel for the rest of the night. Perhaps I’ll even break your legs so you won’t be able to cause anymore trouble.”
A-Ling glared harder and he opened his mouth to yell back, but Jiang Cheng was rudely reminded that he was just a child and had gone through something he wasn’t ready for when he just started sobbing all over again. Jiang Cheng knew a thing or two about being in over one’s head.
Once again, he considered leaving him there and sending him to his room. He even took a step back. Yes, a-jie had comforted them, but wasn’t that what had led to Wei Wuxian turning out the way he did? Wasn’t that what enabled him to become a monster? Wasn’t it the reason that he could count the number of men in his sect that were from before on one hand?
But, then again, he’d rejected so much of both her and Wei Wuxian’s affections and he still found himself in the disgraceful position of beating people to death because they were…
“A-Ling,” Jiang Cheng said again. Jin Ling looked up at him, waiting for whatever punishment he was going to give. He couldn’t bring himself to give him one.
Instead, he grabbed A-Ling by the bicep and hauled him off his feet and onto his hip. He was too big to be carried and he was sure people would have things to say if they dared, but A-Ling wrapped his arms around his neck and clung to him as his only source of comfort. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes for a moment to steady himself before he began the walk to his own quarters.
They made it about halfway there before Jin Ling noticed the blood on him.
“It’s not mine,” he said before Jin Ling could properly ask what happened.
There was a pause before he asked, “Then whose is it?”
“Mind your own business.”
A-Ling gave a little hmph, but he put his head back on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder and took in a shaky breath. By the time they walked into his quarters, the bath he’d requested was already there. He used a heating talisman to warm it up and carefully put Jin Ling down on the floor.
“Clean up,” he said simply, using his thumb to wipe dirt and tears from A-Ling’s cheek. He nodded obediently. Jiang Cheng grabbed a cloth and dipped it in the bath before taking it behind a separate privacy screen.
He stripped slowly, his body aching for something that had nothing to do with that demonic cultivator. He was tense and angry and overwhelmed. More than anything, he was just tired. So ungodly tired. Then again, he couldn’t actually remember the last time he wasn’t tired. When he studied in the Cloud Recesses, maybe.
Jiang Cheng took out his hair piece to the sound of Jin Ling still crying as quietly as he could and the water sloshing around him. It’d been awhile since they’d shared a room like this. Sure, there were still a few nights A-Ling would crawl into his bed after a nightmare, but it’d been years since he allowed Jin Ling to sleep in his bed from the beginning of the night. Jiang Cheng had no intention of sending him back to his room.
He wiped himself clean of the demonic cultivator’s blood and soon enough found himself scowling down at the red-tinted cloth. He couldn’t pinpoint what about it was so infuriating, but it was. The longer he stared, the angrier he got. Eventually, he threw it to the ground and put on a night robe.
When he walked out of the shield of the privacy screen, he found A-Ling still in the tub and staring down at the water. His hair was still a mess, but he seemed in a completely different world and unable to do anything about it. Jiang Cheng too often saw Jin Zixuan in him, rarely did he see his A-jie. It was moments like these, however, when he saw himself.
And, god, he hated it.
Jiang Cheng walked closer and knelt by the tub. His hands went to A-Ling’s hair and freed it from it’s tie. It barely moved, hardened with blood and dirt and perpetual knots. He sighed and leaned over to grab a comb, carefully working out the knots.
“A-Ling,” he said, glancing at him to see if he actually captured his attention or not. He blinked a few times and flinched when he accidentally pulled his hair when the comb got stuck. Good enough. “This was the first person you’ve killed, but it won’t be the last. You’ll have to get used to it.”
His father never told him that. He was always so lenient. Jiang Cheng had been nearly 16 by the time he found himself killing something that resembled a human being, war taking over and forcing his hand. Jiang Cheng had never been warned and there was too much going on for him to ever understand what he’d done. Now he’d lost count of the lives that had been lost under his sword, under his Sect. It didn’t matter anymore.
“I thought it was a corpse,” A-Ling said softly, “But it breathed. ”
“Have I ever told you about my first night hunt?” he asked. A-Ling looked at him a bit oddly.
“No,” he said, “You never tell me anything about anything because you want me to stay stupid.”
Jiang cheng narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t‒Shut up. My first night hunt was a water ghost right outside Lotus Pier gates and they had planned to see a few cultivators to handle it the next morning, but my shixiong wanted to handle it that night. He dragged me out of bed and we went to go take care of it, but I was a little younger than you and we were untrained and unwatched. He got pulled under, nearly drowned.”
He didn’t say his name. The boy he grew up with wasn’t the man that died nine years ago and A-Ling didn’t need that much information. It would be too confusing for him to separate the two when Jiang Cheng could barely do it himself.
A-Ling sniffled, “That would’ve been embarrassing if he did. This is Lotus Pier.”
Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, pressing his hand to A-Ling’s forehead to dunk him under the water so his hair would be wet. When he came back up, he was turning red again and already had a scowl on his little face.
“You could’ve just said!”
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng said, dunking him into the water once more. Jin Ling came back up, ready to yell and gripe and act older than he was. Jiang Cheng found himself smiling. “Do you feel better already?”
“I hate you,” A-Ling said, crossing his arms over his chest. Jiang Cheng ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. Fair enough. He got his hair as clean as he could before beginning to braid it. “ Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Are you going to finish the story or not?” A-Ling asked. Jiang Cheng’s smile faded and his jaw clenched as he thought about what happened after that.
He’d cried, perhaps worse than A-Ling had tonight, in worry and fear. Wei Wuxian had comforted him despite being the one who was hoarse from coughing up water. When they snuck back into Lotus Pier, A-jie was already waiting for them in Jiang Cheng’s bedroom to check them over. She was the only one that caught them every single time without fail. It was her super power. Would she catch him now? Would she clean him free of the blood of every demonic cultivator he beat, or would she hate him for it?
He had to take a few breaths before he could speak again.
“We killed the damn thing and snuck back into Lotus Pier. We didn’t get caught,” Jiang Cheng said, “So don’t even try because I know every way there is to not get caught and I will catch you.”
“Was that the point of the story? Because I thought it was going to have a cool ending.”
“It wasn’t, you brat,” Jiang Cheng said, tying off the braid, “My… Your mother dried us off and stayed until we fell asleep. She coddled us too much, made us think it was okay to be vulnerable with people if you trusted them. That way of thinking got her killed.”
A-Ling stared at him, eyes clouding with a new layer of tears. Jiang Cheng stood up and grabbed a towel, handing it to the boy who was back to glaring down at the water with tears sliding over his cheeks. He half expected another ‘I hate you’ , but A-Ling said nothing as he snatched the towel and climbed out of the tub. Jiang Cheng went over to his trunk of clothing and pulled out an extra night robe. It would swallow A-Ling whole, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d been wrapped up in Jiang Cheng’s clothing.
“And your shixiong?” A-Ling asked, a bite to his voice that mimicked Jiang Cheng’s in a way that nearly made him flinch, “What got him killed?”
Me, Jiang Cheng thought immediately. He tossed the robe A-Ling’s way and sat on his bed, his body feeling too heavy to stand all of the sudden.
“His arrogance,” Jiang Cheng chose instead, “He was convinced he was right at all times, even if that meant abandoning everyone who cared for him. He was reckless and got people killed for no reason other than to be right.”
A-Ling climbed into bed. Jiang Cheng looked over at him and he’d already balled up with his knees to his chest. He looked so small and young despite how hard he tried to sound grown and angry. Or maybe he didn’t try to sound angry‒maybe he just was. What did it say about Jiang Cheng if he raised such an angry child?
But, if anyone had any reason to be angry, it was A-Ling. So he wouldn’t take that away from him.
“I don’t want to be that way,” A-Ling said softly, shaking his head, “I don’t want anyone to die.”
“They will, though,” Jiang Cheng said, looking at him seriously, “People die every day for no reason. They die at the hands of others, at the hands of themselves, and they die when you are not ready. It will never stop.”
A-Ling took a shaky breath and bowed his face into his knees, his shoulders shaking. Jiang Cheng reached over and put his hand on his cheek, making him meet his eyes again.
“Don’t let anyone see you cry this way ever again, do you understand me? All it does is make the people around you think you’re weak‒and, trust me, they go into every conversation with that thought in the back of their mind. Don’t prove them right. I don’t care how much you trust someone or think it’s safe to be vulnerable, don’t do it. It will always end badly.”
“Except you.”
“No,” Jiang Cheng said firmly, “Even me. I won’t be here forever and I’ll do my best to keep in control while I’m here, but will never be able to predict when someone loses control and becomes someone they aren’t. You’ve heard the stories of Chifeng-zun and the Yiling Laozu‒two great men who lost control.”
“Shushu wouldn’t like that comparison,” A-Ling whispered, voice uncharacteristically soft. Or, maybe that’s how he was supposed to sound. Soft and sweet and Jiang Cheng had taught him something different.
“I don’t give a damn, it’s the truth,” Jiang Cheng said simply, “It’s unpredictable, so you should allow no one your weaknesses, not even me. I am Sect Leader, I am your uncle, but, at the end, I am no different than any other man. Do not give me or anyone else anything to use against you, do you understand?”
A-Ling stayed silent and still for a long while. Jiang Cheng sighed, feeling too heavy to stay awake any longer. It’d been a long day, a long week, a long year, a long life. He was tired. Always tired.
Jiang Cheng extinguished the candles that lit the room and laid down with his back to A-Ling. He could hear soft sniffling as he tried to cry as quietly as possible. He would get better at it, Jiang Cheng thought, eventually. All it took was practice.
Before Jiang Cheng could fall asleep, though, his nephew curled up against his back, small hands clinging to his robes as if he was a toddler again. A-Ling pressed his face into his spine, seeking comfort from the person Jiang Cheng had just told him not to be vulnerable around. It would get him killed. Not that Jiang Cheng had any intention to be that person, but there was no telling who would use that information against him one day. That was the last thing he wanted.
But he couldn’t bring himself to push him away. He didn’t want to.
A few weeks later, Jiang Cheng would meet with His Excellency Jin Guangyao and agree that it was time for Jin Ling to start living in Lanling so he could take on sect duties and learn the proper Lanling fighting styles. Jiang Cheng had broken the news to him privately and Jin Ling had not taken it well. He kept his tears at bay for a while as he tried to argue, but eventually he’d sobbed and clung to Jiang Cheng and begged not to be left. It was one of the hardest things Jiang Cheng had to do in the last decade.
Out of spite, Jin Ling didn’t write to him for six months. When Jiang Cheng went to visit finally, he would glare and avoid him. Jiang Cheng would ask Jin Guangyao and his wife separately how Jin Ling was adjusting, getting tense answers from both of them that suggested he was doing decidedly awful but refusing to give Jiang Cheng any details about what was making it so awful.
Jiang Cheng had found himself lurking around corners, watching Jin Ling with the other disciples like he wasn’t a Sect Leader. They were all cruel to him, making fun of him for every single reason they could come up with. His dead mother, his dead father, his close relation to the Yiling Laozu, his dog, his uncles. Every time Jin Ling got angry, they would laugh at him. Jiang Cheng was left wondering why the hell he didn’t kick their asses when it should’ve been well known that Jin Ling was extremely skilled, but he found that probably wasn’t very becoming of someone of his status. Jiang Cheng didn’t step in even though he wanted to. It was best he learned to deal with people like that on his own.
When the fourth night of his stay rolled around and Jin Ling snuck into his bed and cried into his back, Jiang Cheng said nothing. He didn’t know if it was nightmares or if it was anger or if it was loneliness and he didn’t ask. Selfishly, Jiang Cheng had no desire to send him back to his room. He wanted to keep him there where he could see him and take care of him.
Leaving him that time had been harder than the first.
V.
Life at Lotus Pier without the little boy he’d raised at his heel was unfairly lonely.
It took Jiang Cheng a year to admit it was loneliness and not just him being ridiculous. His days seemed empty and quiet and his chest ached when he stayed still for too long. It was as if his body had decided he’d gone through another loss, as if A-Ling wasn’t still alive and, truthfully, not that far away. Still, amongst his dreams of A-jie being killed and Wei Wuxian telling him they weren’t brothers and his parents dying to save him, a dream of A-Ling on his knees and crying ‘don’t leave me, Jiujiu, I’ll be good, take me home,’ began to crop up. It was miserable.
He did his best to keep himself busy. It wasn’t a difficult feat, he was running a Sect, and yet it felt like it wasn’t enough. He began to train the younger disciples as well as the older ones, he went on night hunts with juniors, he kept everything nice. His disciples seemed to like him and the rest of the cultivation world seemed to approve of him, finally, and yet it wasn’t enough. He found himself feeling sick with nerves whenever meetings approached, checking himself in mirrors to make sure he looked the part. Would they be able to tell he hadn’t slept?
They typically didn’t‒the word typically being very specifically reserved for Lan Xichen who always gave him a too-polite smile and a soft ‘Jiang-zongzhu, it would bring me great joy to play for you, would you allow it?’ . He’d play something that would knock Jiang Cheng out for a dreamless, full night of sleep. Part of him always looked forward to it even if it pissed him off.
It went on like that, every day bleeding into the next. He always listened for demonic cultivators and they were never Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng found himself both annoyed and relieved every time. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do if‒ when ‒Wei Wuxian appeared again. Would he kill him for real this time? He liked to think he would.
When he did finally find Wei Wuxian again, real and in the flesh, he didn’t kill him. In fact, he felt numb all over again.
A day or two or a thousand seemed to lapse with Jiang Cheng doing nothing but staring at the floor, trying to process the fact that Wei Wuxian was indeed back, this time with Lan Wangji as a guard dog. He was angry, he was hurt, he was confused, he was overwhelmed, he was…
“Jiujiu,” A-Ling said as he entered the room without knocking, “I’m going on a‒What happened to you ?”
Jiang Cheng looked up at him, blinking a few times and then looking around. He was in his guest room at Koi Tower, but he didn’t remember how he got there. It was light outside, but he was in night robes‒again, something he had no memory of. He’d lost time before, his mind checking out in favor of whatever happened when he wasn’t paying attention, but as he adjusted, he found himself far more disoriented than he would’ve liked. He clutched the bed sheets. Wasn’t he just in Lotus Pier?
“ Nothing ,” Jiang Cheng snapped, looking up at Jin Ling. It was even more disorienting to see him standing there, decked out in Jin robes and gold pieces in his hair and looking so close to being a man. Wasn’t he just a little boy clinging to Jiang Cheng’s robes? Didn’t the one he was wearing have stains on it from when he was little? “Nothing, I’m fine, piss off.”
Jin Ling scowled. “I was just asking because you look like you got ran over.”
“Brat,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, still clutching the sheets. He took a few slow breaths and the door closed. Part of him was shocked when he realized Jin Ling was still there.
“What, did it happen again?” Jin Ling asked, the faintest trace of worry in his voice. So faint anyone that hadn’t raised him probably would’ve missed it.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You know, it, ” he said, still harsh. Jiang Cheng shook his head, taking a deep breath.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t be mean to me because I’m right,” Jin Ling snapped, “It’s not my fault that I know more than you.”
“Shut up.”
“You shut up! You’re the one that, that turns his head off when he doesn’t want it anymore!” Jin Ling snapped. Jiang Cheng furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at his nephew. He wanted to ask what he meant, wanted to ask if he could tell when Jiang Cheng was losing time and how he could tell. Was he the only one or did others notice? Was that why Lan Xichen played for him?
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, get out of my sight,” Jiang Cheng spat.
Jin Ling was nearly shaking with anger, his breathing uneven and heavy. He stalked right up to Jiang Cheng, glaring in all of his teenage anger. Jiang Cheng almost wanted to pester him more, wanted him to yell and bitch and wake up his senses a little bit more so he could adjust to the fact that the Yiling Laozu was alive. Whatever that meant.
“What, you little brat? Spit it out,” Jiang Cheng pressed. But Jin Ling already had that sheen of tears brewing in his eyes. Jiang Cheng was close to mocking him for it, close to saying ‘what did I tell you about crying? I’ll give you something to cry about’.
He didn’t.
“What, A-Ling?” Jiang Cheng asked, voice a little bit kinder if only because he was too tired to keep on if he wasn’t going to be getting anything back.
“I don’t want you to die,” A-Ling said simply, sniffling. Jiang Cheng shook his head.
“I have no intention of dying any time soon.”
“But-but you keep… If you die, I’m going to kill you for it,” he threatened. Jiang Cheng huffed a dry laugh, shaking his head.
“Please do, that’d be a show.”
“Stop it! Why are you joking?! You don’t tell jokes! You-you only tell jokes when you’re like this!” A-Ling accused, “I don’t know what Qi Deviation looks like, but… But if you’re getting close to that, then stop it. I forbid it.”
“You forbid me?” Jiang Cheng repeated. Jin Ling nodded.
“You’re not allowed to die.”
Jiang Cheng closed his eyes, bombarded with how he’d felt the same way towards Wei Wuxian. He’d brother couldn’t die, he wouldn’t allow it. He’d protect him until he couldn’t and then… But that monster wasn’t his brother, right? Because his brother wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t leave him, wouldn’t be the reason their sister died, wouldn’t be so destructive, wouldn’t leave him.
“Jiujiu!”
Jiang Cheng snapped his head up at the desperate call that seemed to be his only reason for getting out of bed most days and saw that distressed face that matched it.
“Stop it,” A-Ling begged. He dropped down beside Jiang Cheng, hugging him like he only did when they were alone and he wasn’t scared of being made fun of or looking like a baby. “Please don’t die.”
Jiang Cheng sat there for a moment and tried to figure out the best way to ask Jin Ling what exactly it was about him that made him think he was dying. He was losing time, yes, but how did he act that made it obvious? What about it made it seem like he was shutting his mind off? What about it made Jin Ling think it was something other than meditation?
“It’s like you go away,” Jin Ling said without him asking and, not for the first time, Jiang Cheng thought maybe he’d done a good job at making his nephew better than himself, “And it’s hard to get you back. It-It’s not like you wake up, it’s like you only come back in little pieces. Wang Xiaoli always said you just had many things to think about and sometimes you focused too hard, but I think he’s stupid.”
Jiang Cheng sighed softly, trying to find the right words. Which would be easier if he was anyone else. He even considered scolding him for calling Wang Xiaoli stupid, but that seemed like the wrong approach. Everything seemed like the wrong approach. Where was A-jie when he needed her?
“I’m not dying,” Jiang Cheng said simply, “So stop worrying.”
“Then what are you doing? It’s annoying,” Jin Ling grumbled into his shoulder.
“You’ll understand when you’re older.”
“I hate you,” Jin Ling spat, but his grip on him didn’t loosen.
Jiang Cheng took a deep breath and sighed. Then he spoke before he really understood what he planned to say.
“That man that Hanguang-Jun took to the Cloud Recesses‒do you know who he is?”
“Mo Xuanyu?” Jin Ling asked, confusion in his voice.
Mo Xuanyu. Seemingly no one. A weak no one, extraordinarily weak if the way Zidian reacted to him said anything. And, yet, he wasn’t possessed. Or, at least, not in any way known to man. Leave it to Wei Wuxian to possess someone in a brand new way. Ah, wouldn’t A-die be proud.
“Stay away from him,” Jiang Cheng said. Jin Ling scoffed.
“Obviously. He’s insane, Jiujiu, really. I don’t want to go anywhere near him,” he said, though there was something in his voice that, again, one would only hear if they’d raised him. Jiang Cheng sighed.
“You already have, haven’t you?”
“I‒” Jing Ling said, letting go of Jiang Cheng and gearing up to defend himself. It was almost a welcome change of pace. “I didn’t do anything! He-he just appeared and was talking nonsense‒ complete nonsense, Jiujiu. That’s all he does! He‒”
“I’m not mad at you,” Jiang Cheng said, “I’m simply saying to stay away from him. He’s bad news.”
Jin Ling was quiet for a moment. Jiang Cheng couldn’t tell what exactly he was waiting for. Perhaps to be yelled at.
“Why is Hanguang-Jun protecting him?” Jin Ling eventually settled on asking. Jiang Cheng sighed and stood up, making a good and successful effort at not seeming as uneasy on his feet as he felt.
“Because Hanguang-Jun is just as insane.”
Jin Ling left without much more of an argument and it took far too much of Jiang Cheng to let him leave.
He knew Wei Wuxian. There was no way Jin Ling would be able to stay away.
+I
Meditation was very important, Jiang Cheng discovered. It was the best way to keep him from doing something he’d eventually regret, whatever that something might be.
However, it was becoming increasingly difficult to meditate with Wei Wuxian back at Lotus Pier. Every time he tried to focus, he’d hear laughter echoing through the space that seemed to absorb it like the walls themselves missed him. Because of course they would.
“Jiang Cheng! Let me bother you for one moment, look, Shidi, look,” Wei Wuxian said. Jiang Cheng reluctantly opened his eyes to see a wide smile on his far-too-close face. He had to lean back before he scowled.
“You bother me at all moments,” Jiang Cheng said, shoving his shoulder. Wei Wuxian laughed harder and sprawled beside him, pointing out to whatever he was meaning to show him.
The young disciples Wei Wuxian had taken to like a mother hen seemed to notice their Sect Leader was watching and looked between each other. Wei Wuxian waved his hand to urge them on and they very reluctantly listened. In pairs of two, they’d jump onto the roof or glide across the courtyard or just show somehow that they’d gotten very good when it came to studying qinggong with their precious Wei-qianbei .
“Look at them go!” Wei Wuxian praised, laughing as he leaned back.
“If they fall, you’re the one handling it,” Jiang Cheng replied.
“Obviously.”
It hadn’t really been something they discussed. Wei Wuxian showed up a few months back, claiming to be traveling, and simply… hadn’t left. The first few weeks he seemed to be waiting for Jiang Cheng to throw him out as he slowly got more and more comfortable in the space, but Jiang Cheng had no intention to. For the first time since Jin Ling went to live in Lanling, Lotus Pier didn’t feel so empty.
Not that he’d ever say that.
He knew this wasn’t permanent, however, because one day Wei Wuxian would realize he wanted to go back to the Cloud Recesses and Jiang Cheng wouldn’t see him for months on end if not years. But, for now, he would let Wei Wuxian stay and he would act like he didn’t want him there and Wei Wuxian would get that it was an act and he would still never stop. It was easier that way. When he left, it wouldn’t hurt as much if he never let himself like having Wei Wuxian around.
“Their little determined faces are so cute, Jiang Cheng, I can’t handle it,” Wei Wuxian said dramatically, putting his hand on his chest as he leaned back. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “I want one.”
“What, a child? Didn’t you have one?” Jiang Cheng said, bitterness in his tone despite having no reason for it. Or, maybe there was a reason. Didn’t matter.
“Mm, sort of, but Sizhui is all grown and only so many years younger than my face, I feel silly acting like he isn’t. Ah, well, this will have to do,” Wei Wuxian said, brightening up as he pushed himself to his feet and made a show of his own qinggong as he all but flew down to meet them. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes again, trying to meditate.
Once the great Hanguang-Jun discovered Wei Wuxian had been staying in Lotus Pier, Jiang Cheng had received a thinly veiled threat disguised as a respectful letter. If something happened to his precious Wei Ying or if he was disrespected in any way while in Yunmeng, Hanguang-Jun wouldn’t hesitate to deliver the consequences. He’d rolled his eyes and burned it. If Jiang Cheng hadn’t killed him yet then he obviously wasn’t going to.
Besides, Wei Wuxian actually enjoyed teaching the little ones whereas Jiang Cheng had simply taken on the task to fill the empty spaces that Jin Ling had once taken up. They were learning well and actually enjoyed Wei Wuxian, so it simply felt cruel to take him away from them.
Evening meals were spent in the company of Wei Wuxian, something that Jiang Cheng had been reluctant to get accustomed to, but now find himself looking forward to it‒which, truly, pissed him off even more. They’d started out with small talk and gossip that wore at Jiang Cheng’s restraint, but, somehow, it turned into speaking of more useful topics like Sect decisions. Wei Wuxian gave honest input and was a helpful ear and it was too easy to think this was how it should’ve always been. The two of them, running things together, side-by-side, the Twin Heroes of Yunmeng. That pissed him off too.
Though, sometimes, if he had enough alcohol, he’d forget to be as angry.
“Aiya, Jiang Cheng, don’t you worry. I’ll hold things down while you go to that stupid discussion conference,” Wei Wuxian insisted, tilting his head back to drop a noodle into his mouth. Jiang Cheng cocked an eyebrow, pausing with his fifth or sixth cup of wine pressed to his bottom lip.
“You don’t want to come? Hanguang-Jun will be there, probably Lan Sizhui, as well, since you say he’s returned to the Cloud Recesses,” Jiang Cheng pointed out. Wei Wuxian hesitated before he shrugged.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to show my face just yet,” he said. Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes and finished off his drink before putting the cup down to pour another.
“If anyone says anything, Hanguang-Jun will have their head. They’ll have to get used to you anyway as a high-ranking member and teacher within the Jiang Sect,” Jiang Cheng said firmly. He couldn’t imagine someone actively disrespecting him when he had that all going for him. Still, a small smile pulled at Wei Wuxian’s lips and his eyes looked a little far away as he nodded slowly.
“Okay,” he agreed, “I guess I’ll come.”
It took Jiang Cheng until the next day when he was sober to realize the error of his ways. He’d nearly broken the table in his room when he realized that there was no way Wei Wuxian would remain a high-ranking member and teacher within the Jiang Sect. He would see Hanguang-Jun, they’d speak in person after months of nothing but letters, and then he would be whisked back to the Cloud Recesses. This is what he gets for getting too comfortable.
The trip to Lanling for the discussion conference was far too long since they couldn’t fly with Mo Xuanyu’s core being equivalent to the little juniors Wei Wuxian was teaching. It was hours upon hours of Jiang Cheng glaring and ignoring Wei Wuxian as he bubbled with excitement. Lan Zhan, this, Sizhui, that. He was wearing YunmengJiang colors for possibly the second or third time in his life and it almost made it hurt worse that he wouldn’t be returning to Lotus Pier. And how dare he leave the responsibility to Jiang Cheng to tell all the youngest juniors that Wei Wuxian wasn’t coming back? The bastard.
“I’m going to pinch his cheeks so hard,” Wei Wuxian stated far too proudly, “His face will be red for the entire day.”
“Whose,” the man who was controlling the horses that pulled their cart asked, the only one who had been entertaining Wei Wuxian through the trip, “Hanguang-Jun’s or Lan-xiao-gongzi?”
“Hm,” Wei Wuxian hummed thoughtfully, tapping his finger against his nose. Jiang Cheng wasn’t entirely sure his teeth didn’t crack when he clenched his jaw in irritation. “Both, I think. Just so they won’t forget me.”
“As if anyone could,” Jiang Cheng spat. It was meant to be an insult and yet Wei Wuxian grinned somehow even wilder, shoving his shoulder. “Fuck off.”
Wei Wuxian shook his head and shoved his shoulder again. “Why are you so angry? Do you think Jin Ling is going to let this be that bad? He’s only doing this to prove himself, you know. He must’ve had a good teacher.”
Jiang Cheng had to repress the urge to throw himself off the cart.
His anger worsened even more when Wei Wuxian damn near launched himself at Jin Ling upon arrival. He was so happy and excited to see his precious Hanguang-Jun that he had to force hugs on Jin Ling. The brat himself scowled and lightly fought his embrace, but Jiang Cheng knew him well enough to know he very clearly didn’t hate it that much.
“Jiang-zongzhu,” Jin Ling said when he walked up closer, bowing. Jiang Cheng bowed back.
“Jin-zongzhu.”
“ Aiyo, this is boring,” Wei Wuxian whined, earning glares from both of them. He smiled. “Give me a tour!”
“You’ve already had a tour, Wei-da-jiu,” Jin Ling said a bit harshly. Jiang Cheng felt his blood start to run cold. Wei-da-jiu.
“Then give me another one. I need something to waste my time on, don’t I?” Wei Wuxian said, already strolling forward as if he owned the place. Jin Ling glared and all but ran to catch up with him. Jiang Cheng needed wine.
Jiang Cheng trailed them on a fairly lackluster tour. Servants and Jin disciples were all bustling around Koi Tower in an attempt to get everything ready. The Jiang Sect had arrived early, but that was to be expected. The rest of the clans would be showing up this evening and they’d have a banquet and the real discussion would begin the next morning.
It was about superficial things, really. Little talks of which junior disciples might be shaping up to be powerful cultivators or discussions on any marriages between the sects. All of it civil and not at all tense. Hopefully. Jiang Cheng was ready to get it over with and go home.
He followed them with his thoughts elsewhere until he came across the Lotus garden he was certain hadn’t been taken care of with Jin Zixuan dead and no one in Lanling really being an expert on them. And yet it seemed to be flourishing with a small placard claiming it as a memorial garden for Jiang Yanli. When did that get there?
“Head Disciple Jin Yunru suggested we restore it,” Jin Ling said once he noticed Jiang Cheng staring. His voice was small and young, reminding him of that little boy who stuck by his side and he carried until he didn’t want to be carried any longer. “And since the anniversary is soon…”
Wei Wuxian made a small sound of realization and he looked over at them, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in surprise. Jiang Cheng had half a mind to throw him out of Koi Tower for that reaction alone.
“Wait, what day is it?” Wei Wuxian asked. Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling both scoffed in irritation.
“You don’t know what day it is?” Jiang Cheng pressed. Wei Wuxian all but pouted and then he turned to Jin Ling.
“It’s your birthday, isn’t it? Or, at least, it’s around this day,” Wei Wuxian stated. Jin Ling’s whole face seemed to turn bright red with irritation and he looked away. Jiang Cheng turned his eyes to the garden and tried to find solace in that. “Ah, why aren’t we having a party? A proper one, I mean, not a boring conference.”
“I don’t celebrate my birthday,” Jin Ling stated firmly, head held high. Jiang Cheng wasn’t sure if that was true because he chose not to celebrate his birthday or if it was because Jiang Cheng never gave him the option to.
“But your age is such an important one in every young man’s life, it should be celebrated!”
Jin Ling glared at him and sneered a simple, “Do you even know how old I am?”
Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to argue, but he paused and then simply shrugged as if that was enough.
“It doesn’t matter, we’ll celebrate. Ah, you should’ve said something, I could’ve gotten them to bring Lan Jingyi along. Oh well, Lan Sizhui and Ouyang Zizhen will both be here and Lan Zhan and do you think I have enough time to go into town? I’ll be back, I will, we’ll have a party after the banquet, just the people you care about, I promise,” Wei Wuxian rambled, all of that excitement from the ride here still bubbling out of him. Jiang Cheng was beginning to think it was nervousness.
“I don’t‒” Jin Ling started, his voice raised and looking completely overwhelmed with Wei Wuxian’s forced celebration, “I don’t care about any of them!”
“They care about you, though, so close enough,” Wei Wuxian smiled, reaching out to pat his cheek. Jin Ling slapped his hand away and Wei Wuxian laughed.
“I’ll be back!”
“Bring someone with you so you don’t get killed!” Jin Ling yelled after him. Wei Wuxian turned around, walking backwards as he made some exaggerated facial expression that was apparently meant to be translated to ‘I’ll survive, just watch’. Jiang Cheng felt a little sick that it was that easy to translate.
He needed to go home.
“How are you dealing with him?” Jin Ling grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance. He couldn’t hide the fact that he was clearly very much excited for whatever sort of makeshift party Wei Wuxian was going to throw together. It was disappointing to say the least.
But, then again, once Wei Wuxian went back to the Cloud Recesses, he was much more likely to come visit Jin Ling than he was to visit Lotus Pier. Maybe Wei Wuxian wouldn’t disappoint his nephew. And, well, if he did, Jiang Cheng would just have to take care of it.
It had taken Jiang Cheng a while to get used to Wei Wuxian being alive again. Jiang Cheng spent a lot of time after Guangyin Temple being angry at the world, angry at himself and Wei Wuxian. His nights were full of sadness, nostalgia of youthful memories threatening to choke him every time he tried to close his eyes. He had worried Wang Xiaoli and Jin Ling. He hadn’t faltered in his duties as Sect Leader, but the weight of his anger and grief were a physical thing he couldn’t seem to shake. How exactly was he expected to cope with the fact that his entire perception of nearly the last twenty years had been a series of ever bigger lies? How was he supposed to handle having the Yiling Laozu alive after he’d spent so many years killing anyone who resembled him?
But these days, meditation helped him. He ended up excusing himself to go do so in the room he always stayed in until other guests began to arrive. Jin Ling, surprisingly, didn’t argue. Instead, he made a snide comment about how it was better than him exploding and stalked off to go take care of things and stuff.
Meditation was helpful most days, yes, but today it only forced sadness into him in place of anger. Sadness over another birthday his A-jie was missing, over how many bad habits he’d instilled into A-Ling, over how Wei Wuxian would be gone again and he couldn’t say anything about it because why would he.
Years and years of watching A-Ling grow up lonely and it’d taken him until A-Ling’s 18th year to realize he’d learned it from Jiang Cheng himself.
“I’m trying my best, A-jie,” he whispered into the empty room. He was trying his best to stay put together, to be a better role model, to be a better Sect Leader, to be a better brother . And his best, most likely, was either not enough or would go completely unnoticed.
He tried to shake the sadness from him and sought the anger he knew was there somewhere. It was easy whenever he had to bow to brand new Chief Cultivator Hanguang-Jun and then had to watch Wei Wuxian act like a teenager around him all over again, hanging off him and teasing him as if there weren’t bystanders. Wei Wuxian pinched his cheek and whispered in his ear and gave him mischievous smiles. Jiang Cheng didn’t understand how he could be so shameless and oblivious at the same time.
“Jiang-zongzhu,” a voice said, tearing Jiang Cheng’s focus away from where his ridiculous brother was eating his dinner like it was a game on what he could do to make the Chief Cultivator cause a scene. When he looked up, he saw Lan Sizhui bowing before him.
The few times he’d met the kid, Jiang Cheng had been admittedly annoyed. Finding out he was the product of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian’s combined teachings really only pissed him off more. He was outwardly kind and warm, but he was also clever and strong. He couldn’t help but feel like A-jie would be far more proud of the work they did than the shoddy job he did raising A-Ling to be nothing but angry and alone.
“Lan-xiao-gongzi,” Jiang Cheng greeted. Lan Sizhui smiled in a way that probably would’ve caused him to pop a blood vessel had he not meditated earlier in the evening.
“This disciple wanted to thank Jiang-zongzhu for inviting him to Lotus Pier in two weeks' time,” he said. Jiang Cheng wasn’t able to hide his confusion. “Wei-qianbei wanted to formally show this disciple the beauty of Lotus Pier. Jiang-zongzhu’s kindness in opening his home is greatly appreciated.”
It took a few moments to realize the weight of what exactly that meant. So Wei Wuxian didn’t plan to leave. Or maybe he simply planned to come back. Jiang Cheng didn’t know which one was more likely to hope for. It was agonizing to try and figure it out.
“Wei Wuxian is a respected member of the Jiang Sect,” Jiang Cheng said slowly, clenching his fists so he didn’t do something stupid like yell across the banquet what the hell Wei Wuxian was planning to do with himself, “His family is welcome within Lotus Pier at all times.”
Lan Sizhui seemed to brighten up a bit even though it carried a bit of hesitant weight to it. He opened his mouth to say something, but he quickly closed it again and smiled. Jiang Cheng watched as he bowed again, waiting for him to ask whatever he clearly wanted to. It didn’t come that easily.
“Out with it,” Jiang Cheng said. Lan Sizhui looked a little startled. “Speak your mind, I’m sure you’ve been taught that by at least one of the people who raised you.”
Lan Sizhui blinked and smiled, standing up straight only to bow again.
“This disciple had considered asking Jiang-zongzhu’s permission to let Wen-qianbei visit Lotus Pier when he does,” he said softly, carefully. Calculated. All Lan Wangji. “But he understands that was an inappropriate question.”
“Why is it inappropriate?” Jiang Cheng asked, cocking an eyebrow, “Did I not just say Wei Wuxian’s family is welcome? Is he not family? Did I misinterpret something else along the way?”
Lan Sizhui stared at him for a long stretch of time before blinking out of it and nodding his head.
“Thank you, Jiang-zongzhu.”
Jin Ling walked up at that point, making a face at Jiang Cheng before he told Lan Sizhui he was needed elsewhere. As they walked away, he heard Jin Ling promising that Jiang Cheng being a bitch was simply because he liked him.
The banquet continued to be uneventful, yet dread still pooled in Jiang Cheng’s stomach with each passing moment. That only got worse as he was dragged into Wei Wuxian’s quarters after most of the attendees had gone to bed to see a poorly decorated room with a table full of wine and people who he was certain didn’t like him very much.
He stayed by the wall as Wei Wuxian doted on Jin Ling like he never really had a chance to, pestering him and laughing loudly at him. He watched as Wei Wuxian encouraged Jin Ling and the two juniors to drink with him, Hanguang-Jun turning his head when Lan Sizhui took his first sip to pretend he didn’t witness it which made Wei Wuxian laugh like it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. He watched them enjoy each other while he stood to the side again.
That’s how it was supposed to be, truly. Not them together, but Wei Wuxian with all the warmth in the world while Jiang Cheng stood to the side. That’s how it had always been. Wei Wuxian and A-jie or Diedie or everyone with little A-Cheng watching by himself. And when Jin Ling smiled bright like boys his age should, when he never had before, except maybe at his damn dog, his cheeks flushed red with alcohol and drunken giggles spilling from him, Jiang Cheng was even more aware that he’d never been as welcome. He was a poor placeholder.
Jiang Cheng slipped outside, knowing his absence wouldn’t be noticed, and let himself take a breath as he looked towards the lotus garden. Tears pricked his eyes stupidly. So many years had passed, so much time had been wasted with him trying and failing, and he still found himself letting everyone down. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw Jin Ling smile that way. What would A-jie say?
Nothing. She’d be disappointed and she would say nothing. And he still wanted her here. He still wanted her guidance, wanted her to promise him that she wasn’t angry for the way A-Ling had turned out. Maybe, if he was lucky, she’d pet his hair and hug him tight and make him feel less like he’d failed her. But, then again, when had he ever been a lucky man?
“There you are Shidi! You’re missing out on all the fun,” Wei Wuxian said as he joined him. Jiang Cheng looked down, wiping his face as quickly as he could. The tears didn’t really stop, though, and Wei Wuxian had never been that stupid.
He didn’t say anything, though, so at least he decided not to be cruel.
Wei Wuxian stepped up beside him, bumping his shoulder against Jiang Cheng’s softly. He wanted to snap at him, but he couldn’t find the energy. Because, stupidly, at his core, he just wanted him to keep standing beside him.
“You missed Jin Ling laughing so hard wine came out of his nose just because Sizhui called Lan Zhan ‘Baba’ before passing out on the table , ” Wei Wuxian said. Jiang Cheng didn’t know how he was supposed to react to that. Should he laugh? Should he be jealous? Should he make a stupid comment about Lan Sizhui having a Baba? “He noticed you left, you know. The kid’s a Jiang Cheng whisperer‒he knows exactly what you’re feeling at all times. Said a funny little thing, too, about you being scared that I’m not going to return to Lotus Pier. I wonder where he got that from.”
Jiang Cheng huffed a laugh, “I assume Hanguang-Jun plans to steal you away into the Cloud Recesses now that he’s seen you again.”
“Do you think I haven’t seen him since I started staying in Lotus Pier? I’ve seen him,” Wei Wuxian said, a smug and teasing tone in his voice, “He wouldn’t drag me back unless I wanted to.”
“Don’t you want to?”
“When you’re older, you’ll understand better,” Wei Wuxian sighed. Jiang Cheng glared at him through wet eyes and elbowed him in the side, earning soft laughter as Wei Wuxian came closer. “I haven’t decided what I want to do yet. If you don’t plan on kicking me out of Lotus Pier, then I don’t want to leave yet.”
Yet.
“Ah, that kid,” Wei Wuxian said, quickly changing the subject and Jiang Cheng didn’t know whether to be thankful or annoyed. Part of him just wanted to kick Wei Wuxian out so he didn’t get used to the way things were just for him to leave. The whole thing had been a pipedream since they were little and yet… “Eighteen and such a good Sect Leader already. He’s got the best uncle in the world as his role model, so we shouldn’t be surprised. And, well, you’re there too.”
Wei Wuxian laughed like it was funny, but Jiang Cheng couldn’t find it in him to do anything but let his chin hit his chest. His fists clenched at his side. Eighteen years old and an angry boy who hadn’t smiled in years for anything other than his dog until a myth himself rose from the dead. He should hate Wei Wuxian for that alone. He wanted to hate him, it was easier. But he couldn’t. And A-jie wouldn’t want him to.
“She should be here,” Jiang Cheng said softly. Wei Wuxian breathed softly and moved a bit closer until he wrapped his arms around Jiang Cheng from behind in a hug. Instinct told him to push him off, but his arms wouldn’t move.
“She should,” Wei Wuxian agreed, “And I… I’m so sorry she’s not. I think if everyone had just listened to her, half of everything bad that happened to us wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Do you think we could’ve achieved world peace with her soup? I think we could’ve.”
“You’re such an idiot,” Jiang Cheng accused, but it came without any weight. Maybe he was right. She solved nearly every fight they had as long as they listened to her.
“I know,” Wei Wuxian said, “I know and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I did.”
“It wasn’t…”
They both fell silent, thinking too hard about regrets and lost time and lost everything. Wei Wuxian took a deep breath and sighed, giving Jiang Cheng a little squeeze. He had half a mind to hit him or elbow him in the stomach, but he wasn’t quite ready for him to let go.
“She would be proud of you,” Wei Wuxian said, “Jin Ling… He’s a little angry, but he’s good. He’s got a good heart, a good understanding of right and wrong. You taught him well.”
“I taught him to hate you.”
“Yeah, but he thought for himself and decided I wasn’t so bad, didn’t he? That’s how you know you did good, they’ll go against you if they feel it’s the right thing,” Wei Wuxian decided. Jiang Cheng closed his eyes.
“I made him lonely.”
“Mm, but that’s changing too. He’s got Zizhen and Sizhui and Jingyi‒they’re all good kids. They’re a little older and tease him, but they take care of each other. That’s all you can ask for, isn’t it? Someone to take care of you and tease you even when you’re a big, bad Sect Leader?” Wei Wuxian asked. Jiang Cheng huffed a laugh.
“I hate you.”
“No you don’t.”
No, he really didn’t.