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Chapter Text

For all that Uncle Jiang Cheng half-heartedly threatened to break Jin Ling’s leg or forbade him to come back from night hunting unless he killed the most monsters, there was no place in the whole wide world where Jin Ling felt safer than in his Uncle’s arms. For all his angry posturing, Uncle had thrown himself—disarmed and wounded—between Jin Ling and an angry pixiu. Even with Sandu in a ravine and bleeding all over the place, he didn’t hesitate to shield Jin Ling with his own body. Jin Ling knew with absolute certainty that if he actually didn’t come back from a night hunt, half the Jiang sect would come looking for him. As for leg breaking, well, if anyone even looked like they might want to break Jin Ling’s leg, Uncle would rip them to shreds.

When Jin Ling’s world collapsed in the wake of Uncle Guangyao’s schemes coming to light, the only reason why Jin Ling and his entire sect didn’t get crushed under the rubble were Uncle Jiang Cheng’s broad shoulders holding the falling sky up.

Jin Ling was woefully unprepared to become a sect leader. Uncle Guangyao had always encouraged him to go have fun with his friends and leave the boring stuff to him. Naturally, Jin Ling had been happy to listen. What little he knew about leading a sect, he learned from Uncle Jiang Cheng, who let—and sometimes outright ordered—Jin Ling to sit-in on his meetings. Occasionally he would ask Jin Ling to read the correspondence addressed to ‘Sect Leader Jiang’ and ask what Jin Ling would do, offering grudging praise or better alternatives depending on his answer. Still, it didn’t change the fact that Jin Ling was out of his depth.

Jin clan’s trustworthiness had already been undermined by his grandfather’s cowardly actions during the Sunshot campaign. Jin Guangyao had done his best to fix their reputation but... But then Guanyin temple happened, and things got much, much worse.

Minor sects were well aware that the Jin sect had no sly advisor to replace Jin Guangyao and that the new leader was an inexperienced child.

(Most minor sects seemed to have forgotten that the inexperienced child also had a temperamental, very protective, downright terrifying maternal uncle.)

Jin Ling rubbed his temples to stave off the headache threatening to overtake his concentration. Yet another minor sect leader had conveniently forgotten to inform Jin Ling about an important matter. Yet another sect had failed to ask for Jin Ling’s permission. Yet another meeting had been held without him. Jin Ling tried to imagine what Uncle Jiang Cheng would do in his place, but it was no use. No one in their right mind would dare disrespect Sandu Shengshou. A hint of Zidian sparking, echoing its wielder’s displeasure, and sect leaders would scramble to appease him. But no matter how hard he tried to emulate him, Jin Ling lacked Uncle Jiang Cheng’s intimidating self-assuredness and the natural confidence he exuded.

Trying to ignore the persistent throbbing above his eyes, he let the missive fall on the table with a defeated sigh. Enough of this. Ordering Jin Lei to make sure he wouldn’t be disturbed, he took Fairy for a stroll through the gardens. He needed to forget about his responsibilities for a moment, stop being Sect Leader Jin, and simply be. (At times like this he missed Lotus Pier and swimming in the river and playing with Jiang Tao and he desperately missed his Uncle. Both of them.)

Jin Lei found him after what felt like minutes.

“What now?” he growled, headache returning with vengeance. He knew Jin Lei wouldn’t disturb him if it wasn’t important.

“Sect Leader Jiang is here,” she said with a bow. “He’s waiting for you in the Azure Hall.”

What is Uncle doing here?

Jin Ling sprinted across the Koi Tower, Fairy at his heels.

“Uncle!” he burst into the Azure Hall and barely remembered to bow respectfully. “What brings you here?”

Uncle Jiang Cheng scoffed at his manners but returned the greeting without commenting. “Just stopping by on my way to Cloud Recesses.”

Jin Ling suspected that vast majority of things that brought Uncle to Gusu could have been handled by a simple letter but Uncle chose to settle them in person just so he could check on Jin Ling. (His supervision should probably feel oppressive but given the circumstances, Jin Ling was grateful.)

An attentive servant brought them tea. They seated themselves at the low table and Fairy settled down by Uncle’s cushion, unashamedly asking for belly rubs, which he was happy to give her. He took a perfunctory sip before setting the cup down.

“Care to tell me why the servants looked relieved to see me?”

Jin Ling considered telling him that everything was fine. After all, he couldn’t and shouldn’t always hide behind Uncle’s robes. He was almost adult; he should be able to handle his own problems. Even if he had no idea how.

“A-Ling?”

It was the gentleness and concern in Uncle’s voice that broke him. He opened his mouth—to say what, he didn’t really know—but instead, a sob escaped from his chest, unguarded. Jin Ling suddenly felt crushed under all the stress of the recent weeks, exhausted from lack of sleep and his never-ending headache.

Uncle Jiang Cheng was on his feet in an instant, and in a blink of an eye Jin Ling was drawn against his firm chest. Uncle’s robes smelled like home and safety and Jin Ling allowed himself to have this moment of weakness. He cried.

Uncle held him until he ran out of tears. Jin Ling reluctantly pulled back, feeling drained, fragile and utterly miserable. He noticed a wet patch on his Uncle’s robes.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled, motioning to the dark stain on the otherwise pristine purple cloth.

Uncle handed him a handkerchief to wipe his face. “I didn’t complain when you soiled my robes with drool, vomit, food, ink, blood or dirt. Or on that one memorable occasion when you peed on me as a baby.” Jin Ling let out a mortified squeak. “A few tears and snot are nothing I can’t handle.” He refilled Jin Ling’s cup. “Drink and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Some minor sect leaders are being disrespectful,” he admitted, too ashamed of himself to look Uncle in the eye.

“Details, Rulan.” It wasn’t Uncle Jiang Cheng who asked, it was Sect Leader Jiang Wanyin.

Jin Ling told him everything. The more he spoke, the more Uncle’s face clouded with anger. Not anger directed at Jin Ling but wrath at anyone who dared make his nephew’s life miserable.

When Jin Ling finished, Uncle took a deep breath and unclenched his fists.

“I’ll take care of it,” he promised darkly. “Go wash your face, eat something, and take a nap. You look like shit. I’ll kick you into the lake if you don’t start taking better care of yourself.”

Uncle rose, giving Fairy one last affectionate ear scritch, and left, his cloak trailing after him like an angry dragon’s tail.

Jin Ling did as Uncle suggested. He washed, forced himself to eat, and fell asleep the moment he closed his eyes, only waking up the following mid-morning.

He had no idea what Uncle Jiang Cheng did but over the next few days Jin Ling received several very expensive apology gifts, accompanied by letters dripping with respect. No one dared disregard Jin Ling after that.

The next time he saw his Uncle, Jin Ling ran through Cloud Recesses to hug him, proper manners and disapproving stares of Lan Elders be damned. And for all that Uncle scolded him and threatened to take Suihua away and send him on a night hunt without it, the fact that he had hugged Jin Ling back belied his words.

Chapter Text

Jiang Cheng had always hated discussion conferences. The only thing worse than attending a discussion conference, in his opinion, was hosting it, and unfortunately, this year the dubious honour belonged to the Yunmeng Jiang sect.

For once in his life, Wei Wuxian arrived early and actually made himself useful, leaving Jiang Cheng free to greet the guests.

The Jin were the last ones to arrive. Jiang Cheng looked at Jin Lei, Jin Mu, Wan Shuren and five other Jin disciples whose names he couldn’t remember.

“Sect Leader-”

“Where’s my nephew?” he interrupted Jin Lei’s greeting, uncaring that it was rude.

“Master will be alright, Sect Leader Jiang,” she tried to reassure him.

Jiang Cheng didn’t like the future tense one bit. “What happened?”

“He was injured on a night hunt. Healer Hao says he will make a full recovery in a few days but she forbade him from travelling.”

Jiang Cheng took a breath and forced himself to relax his shoulders and loosen his grip on Sandu. “Thank you for telling me. Welcome to Lotus Pier. Please enjoy the banquet tonight,” he said with a bow instead of unsheathing Sandu and flying straight to Koi Tower like he wanted to. He waved at the servants to show the Jin delegation to their rooms, and took a moment to compose himself before returning to his duties.

As expected, the torturously long opening banquet was filled with meaningless pleasantries. Sect Leader Yao once again made a nuisance of himself, Nie Huaisang once again hid his barbed remarks behind an empty-headed smile, and Wei Wuxian once again got himself drunk—but this time, Jiang Cheng gladly joined him, which resulted in a rather unpleasant hangover the following morning.

In short, Jiang Cheng was already in a foul mood when he heard someone yelling on his way to get breakfast.

“You can’t be serious! In case it escaped your notice, Sect Leader Jiang is hosting a discussion conference! He can’t just leave in the middle of it! Not with the entire cultivation world watching!”

Jiang Cheng followed the commotion to the reception area. “Stop shouting, Tan Wuying. What’s this talk about me leaving?” he demanded morosely.

The group of servants and disciples bowed in greeting. Jiang Cheng noticed a gold-clad figure in their midst. The sight of a dishevelled Jin sect disciple with wind-swept hair and desperate eyes immediately sobered him up, a feeling of dread gripping his heart.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” he panted, out of breath, making Jiang Cheng wonder if he flew all the way from the Koi Tower without stopping. “Sect Leader Jin is delirious with fever and he’s refusing to take his medicine. He’s been asking for you.”

“Surely your healers can handle him,” Tan Wuying scoffed arrogantly. He quickly realised it might have been a mistake when everyone wearing the Jiang purple paled and backed away from him.

Zidian sparked on Jiang Cheng’s hand. The only reason he didn’t unleash it was that Tan Wuying was barely older than Jin Ling. He’d only become a Jiang disciple recently and still felt a childish urge to prove himself — even if it meant averting a disruption to the discussion conference, unaware of the unwritten rule that the Jiang sect would never turn down a request from Sect Leader Jin.

Jiang Cheng could almost hear Yanli’s voice pleading with him to calm down. In a remarkable show of self-restraint, he only grabbed a fistful of Tan Wuying’s robes and lifted him off the ground.

“What makes you think a pointless inter-sect meeting which is held every year is more important to me than my own nephew?” he asked coldly. Instead of listening to Tan Wuying’s sputtering reply he channelled some spiritual power into his arm and threw the foolish disciple off the pier. He landed in the water with a satisfying splash.

Jiang Cheng turned to the small crowd that had gathered to watch the entertainment and narrowed his eyes in displeasure. Several junior disciples suddenly remembered that they had things to do.

“You,” he nodded at Jiang Tao, “go wake Wei Wuxian. Tell him he’ll be taking my place today. Xu Chun, go to my rooms and pick something appropriate for him to wear. I don’t trust his fashion sense. And don’t forget a guan, I don’t care if doesn’t want to wear one. You, take our new guest to the Jin sect’s quarters. I’m going to Koi Tower.”

He didn’t give anyone a chance to protest before unsheathing Sandu and rushing to Lanling.

Rather than take the stairs, Jiang Cheng disregarded etiquette and landed directly on top of Koi Tower.

“He’s in his quarters, Sect Leader Jiang,” a Jin disciple bowed.

Jiang Cheng thanked him with a nod and hurried to A-Ling’s rooms. He heard a thud of something falling on the ground and A-Ling’s petulant voice crying “No!”.

He slid the door open and entered without knocking. A-Ling was on his feet, glowering at the healer holding a cup. He was sweating, unnaturally pale despite his flushed cheeks, his eyes feverishly bright. An overturned table at his feet explained the noise.

“Why are you making ruckus, Jin Ling?”

“Uncle! They’re trying to poison me!”

The healer sighed, clearly tired of trying to reason with her stubborn sect leader.

“Well, I’m here now. No one will dare poison you. Not only would they die a slow and painful death, but I would give their soul to Wei Wuxian for experiments.” It was unfair to Wei Wuxian, implying that he would experiment on souls, but if someone hurt Jin Ling… Who knew what Wei Wuxian would do?

His words had the desired effect and A-Ling calmed down. The poor healer, on the other hand, gulped in fright. Good. He took the medicine from her trembling hand and pretended to drink. He did take a small sip, just in case, but detected no strange flavour in the familiar disgustingly bitter mixture.

“See? No poison. It’s just medicine,” he held the cup out for A-Ling to take.

A-Ling shook his head. “I don’t want it! I’m not sick!”

“Is that why you’re swaying on your feet?” he asked sceptically. “Because you’re not sick?”

“Not swaying,” A-Ling denied, holding onto the bedhead for support.

Jiang Cheng asked his beloved sister’s ghost for patience. “I heard about some interesting monsters in the ZhenKang lake. If you drink it, you can come on a night hunt with me.”

“Really?” A-Ling perked up and took the cup. Then he frowned at it. “But what about my sword? Uncle, they took it away! I can’t go on a night hunt without Suihua!”

It was reassuring to know that Jin sect healers weren’t complete idiots. Delirious cultivators were dangerous enough without their swords.

“I have it,” he lied shamelessly. “If you want it back, you have to drink that. And be quick about it, it tastes horrible.”

Thankfully, A-Ling listened to him. His face immediately twisted in a theatrical moue of disgust. “This is vile!”

“Here, have some water,” Jiang Cheng said, taking another cup from the healer. “If you hadn’t knocked the table over, you could have had tea to wash the taste away.”

A-Ling accepted the water gratefully but if Jiang Cheng thought his recalcitrant nephew would be pliant now, he was solely mistaken.

“Come lie down.”

“No! I don’t wanna sleep! I’m not tired!” A-Ling declared defiantly. He got that stubbornness from Peacock, Jiang Cheng knew with absolute certainty.

“Who said anything about sleeping? I only want you to lie down for a moment. Then you can get up and we can go night hunting.”

“Fine,” A-Ling grumbled but complied.

“Have I ever told you how Wei Wuxian dressed up as a girl to get free steamed buns?” Jiang Cheng asked, sitting down on the bed beside A-Ling. As expected, A-Ling shook his head. The only stories Jiang Cheng had ever told him about Wei Wuxian were from the Sunshot campaign. (Not that he would ever admit it, but Jiang Cheng regretted it now.) “He was about fourteen, I think. We were visiting our grandparents in Meishan, and there was this marketplace…”

A-Ling fell asleep halfway through the story.

“Thank you for coming, Sect Leader Jiang,” the healer said quietly. As if Jiang Cheng had a choice. He didn’t – not when it came to A-Ling. “Have you eaten? I’ll have the servants bring you food and prepare your room.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll stay here.”

“Are you certain, sir? Sect Leader Jin won’t wake up until tomorrow.”

“I’m certain.”

Jiang Cheng stayed by A-Ling’s side as various Jin cultivators took turns transferring spiritual power to their sect leader. Jiang Cheng would like to join them but he was too drained from his mad dash to Koi Tower.

He held A-Ling in his arms to let healers replace the sweat-soaked bedding and helped them wash and change him to dry clothes. Every few hours he coaxed medicine down A-Ling’s throat. Even barely conscious, A-Ling listened to him. It made Jiang Cheng’s heart thud loudly in his chest. (He remembered his sister’s radiant smile as she placed a squirming bundle in his arms with a soft: ‘Say hello to your nephew, Uncle A-Cheng.’ He had known he would move mountains for Yanli’s child even before A-Ling was born but the moment he got to hold him, the moment he looked into those sleepy eyes, A-Ling stole his heart, never to return it.)

It was late into the night when A-Ling’s fever finally broke. Jiang Cheng sighed in relief and settled into a light meditation until A-Ling stirred as the sun rose.

“Uncle?” A-Ling asked, hoarse and confused.

Jiang Cheng helped him sit up and handed him a cup of strengthening tea, kept warm by a talisman. “How do you feel?”

“Ugh… weak,” he mumbled.

That was to be expected when one woke up after fighting off a fever, and Jiang Cheng told him so.

“Is the discussion conference over? How long did I sleep?”

“The second day of the conference is about to start.”

A-Ling blinked at him. “But you’re here. You can’t be here! You’re hosting it! What will the sects say? Ow, what was that for?” he rubbed his head where Jiang Cheng smacked him.

“Have I taught you nothing, Jin Rulan? The only ones whose opinion matters…”

“…are the four main sects and the Chief Cultivator, I know.”

Good to hear that he’d been listening.

“The Jiang will stand by me. Are you planning to make a formal complaint on behalf of the Jin?” he raised an eyebrow. A-Ling shook his head. “Nie Huaisang will do anything to stay out of conflicts, and I sincerely doubt the Lan or Hanguang-jun will make a fuss.”

“What makes you so sure?” A-Ling frowned sceptically. “I understand Sect Leader Nie but the Lan...”

“I left Wei Wuxian in charge of the conference.”

It took a beat for the words to sink in. “You what? Uncle, are you out of your mind?”

“He’s been reinstated as a Jiang disciple and my heir. It’s only natural that he should take my place. And I’ll have you know he’s always been better at diplomacy than me. He does have a gift for words.”

“Yeah, and he uses it to annoy people!”

Jiang Cheng couldn’t dispute that one.

“No one will dare do anything with Hanguang-jun there.”

“Uncle.” A-Ling’s unimpressed look would make his grandmother proud. “You are relying on Hanguang-jun to keep his cool if someone insults Wei Wuxian.” The ‘are you insane?’ went unsaid but Jiang Cheng could hear it all the same.

“Shit,” he cursed because A-Ling did have a point. “That… might not have been my brightest idea,” he admitted reluctantly. (Not that there was anything else he could have done.) “Well, you’re awake now. I’d better head back and make sure they didn’t start another war.”

“Will you take me with you?”

Absolutely not. A-Ling wasn’t going anywhere, let alone as far as Lotus Pier, until he regained his strength. Jiang Cheng put his palm on A-Ling’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever anymore, why are you spouting nonsense? You have a perfect excuse not to attend! I would change places with you in a heartbeat if I could.”

“I was hoping to see Zizhen and Sizhui,” A-Ling pouted.

“I know you were used to sneaking away with your friends while the sect leaders are preening and posturing but as a sect leader yourself, you don’t get to do that anymore, A-Ling.”

A-Ling sagged into his cushions, realizing Jiang Cheng was right. “In that case, I think I’ll stay in bed for a while longer,” he mumbled.

“Wise words,” Jiang Cheng nodded and picked up Sandu, turning to leave. “And Rulan? If I ever hear that a yaoguai sneaked up on you during a night hunt again, I’ll make you practice sword forms until you faint!”

A meek ‘yes, Uncle’ followed him out as he alerted a healer that A-Ling was awake and lucid. Nephew taken care of, he rose to the sky and headed to Lotus Pier, hoping to prevent his brother from starting (or possibly escalating) an inter-sect incident.