Work Text:
“I know you’re looking forward to seeing your sister,” said Wen Qing, “but it’s getting late and we really ought to stop for the night.” Jiang Cheng had wanted to reach Lanling that afternoon, but they’d gotten a late start that morning between a luggage mix-up with some other guests and the inn’s kitchen running out of Wen Qing’s favorite tea, causing them to go on a frantic search through the town, and now night had fallen on them while they still had a ways to go, even traveling as quickly as their swords could take them.
“Hmph,” said Jiang Cheng, holding his arm out politely as they alighted their swords. Wen Qing was right, of course, as she often was. The only exceptions, to his mind, were when she sided with Wei Wuxian instead of her husband, but since Wei Wuxian brought out the most ridiculous side in everyone, himself included, he didn’t think those moments really counted.
“As excited as she must be to see us, Jin-xiao-furen will understand,” Wen Qing continued. “She wouldn’t want us to tire ourselves out or put ourselves at risk just to see her.” The way she said it left no doubt that if such a thing were necessary, Wen Qing would not hesitate to risk any amount of danger or exhaustion to reach Yanli as quickly as possible.
“Sometimes I think you’re looking forward to seeing my own sister more than I am,” Jiang Cheng grumbled fondly, and Wen Qing closed her eyes briefly, the way she did when she was just barely suppressing an eyeroll.
“Just as you’re looking forward to seeing her husband,” she said, and Jiang Cheng did not dignify that with a response, though of course she was correct and they both knew it. Since Yanli’s marriage to Jin Zixuan, and Jiang Cheng’s own marriage to Wen Qing in order to protect her family from the cultivation world in general and Yanli’s new father-in-law in particular, they’d made sure to see each other frequently, but Jiang Cheng missed them both dearly in between visits, and it was more difficult for him, as a Sect Leader himself, to get away as often as Zixuan, merely the Sect Leader’s son, could.
He suppressed a fond smile at the thought of seeing Jin Zixuan again, at the memory of the time they’d spent together when he’d visited Lotus Pier the previous month. Jiang Cheng had shown him the shallow edge of the lake where he’d first learned to swim, and Jin Zixuan had hiked up his robes above his knees and waded in after him, scaring the fish that darted away, scales flashing silver in the sunlight, and they’d ending up splashing each other with quite a bit of water, cold and refreshing under the hot summer sun. Jin Zixuan’s lips had been warm against Jiang Cheng’s mouth too, but his hands had been cool, damp with lakewater as he tangled his fingers in Jiang Cheng’s hair.
Shaking himself out of the memory, he followed his wife toward the inn, the inviting lights inside promising comfort and safety, or at least real beds and food that someone else had prepared.
Once they got inside, though, the innkeeper saw them and shook his head. “We don’t have any rooms left.”
“That’s impossible,” said Jiang Cheng. He realized he was starting to clench his jaw and grind his back teeth together, and had to force himself to relax before he gave himself a headache. There were a few guests eating and drinking on the first floor, but he didn’t think it was quite enough people to fill up a place this large. “What do you mean, you don’t have any rooms?”
“Are there other inns in this town where we could stay?” interjected Wen Qing.
“I’m afraid not,” said the innkeeper. “I’m terribly sorry, but another young master and his wife arrived just before you did, and they took our last two rooms.”
“Two rooms for one couple,” muttered Jiang Cheng as he and Wen Qing turned away from the apologetic innkeeper. “How spoiled must they be, with enough luggage to need a second room?”
Wen Qing coughed diplomatically, the way she did when she was trying to avoid laughing at an impolite moment, her eyes darting over Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, as a familiar voice behind him said, “How spoiled must who be?”
Jiang Cheng whirled around to see his sister and her husband descending the stairs, matching mischievous grins on their faces, and he loved them both so much that his heart felt like it would burst at the sight.
“No one, a-jie, don’t worry about it,” he said, and Yanli hid a laugh behind her hand.
“He was just grumbling about how there are no rooms left at this inn,” said Wen Qing, selling him out immediately.
“Oh, dear,” Yanli said, exchanging a look with Jin Zixuan that was entirely too conspiratorial for Jiang Cheng’s liking. “How terrible.”
“How fortunate that we’ve booked an extra room for ourselves, then,” said Jin Zixuan. “I suppose you’ll just have to stay with us.”
“What a shame,” said Wen Qing, deadpan, and this time Yanli failed to stifle her giggles behind her hand.
“Well?” said Jin Zixuan. “Will you join us for dinner, or are you going to sulk on the stairs all evening?”
“You planned this, didn’t you?” Jiang Cheng said, and his wife, his sister, and his lover all carefully avoided looking at each other or at him.
“We knew you’d be impatient to see us,” said Yanli, “and we didn’t want to wait to see you either.”
“We also knew that as soon as you reached Koi Tower, you would want to start discussing business right away,” said Wen Qing, and she was right, again, but it still irked Jiang Cheng a little bit to be known. Not too much, though, since she used that knowledge to make him take care of himself, but still a little bit on principle.
“Or rather, that my father,” everyone present made a rude face at the mention of Jin Guangshan, “would strongly encourage you to start discussing business right away.” And Jiang Cheng would dive right into the negotiations anyway, in spite of his exhaustion, because he couldn’t afford to look hesitant in front of such an important sect leader. Especially not one to whom he still owed so much money for the reconstruction of Lotus Pier. They were all correct, though, in thinking that his pride, both for himself and for the Jiang Sect, would not allow him to voluntarily shirk his duty. Unavoidable travel delays, though, and ‘coincidences’ that led to him spending an extra night on the road, relaxing with people he loved before having to deal with politics again, were more than acceptable.
Once they’d settled into the larger of Jin Zixuan and Yanli’s rented rooms and trays of food had been brought up for them, Jin Zixuan began to regale them with stories of pranks Jin Guangyao had played on Jin Zixun, with Yanli chiming in occasionally to tell them how Mian Mian had gotten in on the fun, and Jiang Cheng went from sitting upright beside Jin Zixuan to leaning against him, his head on his shoulder, Jin Zixuan’s fingers combing gently through his hair.
It wasn’t long before his eyelids started feeling heavier and heavier, and a painfully wide yawn interrupted him in the middle of agreeing that it would be nice for Zixuan and Yanli staying at Lotus Pier indefinitely. Officially, they would be emissaries from Koi Tower, making sure that Jin Guangshan’s money for repairs wasn’t being wasted. Unofficially, it was part of Jin Guangyao and Jin Zixuan’s mutually beneficial plot to make Jin Guangyao the next sect leader so that Jin Zixuan didn’t have to deal with all that nonsense that Jin Guangyao, for some unfathomable reason, wanted to bring onto himself.
“Tired?” said Jin Zixuan, rubbing his shoulders comfortingly.
“‘m not sleepy,” said Jiang Cheng, though he didn’t convince anyone, since he yawned again halfway through the sentence, and nestled his face into the crook of Jin Zixuan’s neck rather than watch his sister laugh at him.
“A-Cheng, please,” she said. “You’ve had a long journey, go take a nap at least.”
“We’ll still be here when you wake up,” said Wen Qing, cutting Jiang Cheng off before he could point out indignantly that he was an adult man and a sect leader besides, and did not need to take naps.
“Oh, no,” said Yanli, and Jiang Cheng looked up in time to see the look of utter betrayal Wen Qing fixed upon her girlfriend. “You’ve also had a long journey and need to get some rest.”
There was no arguing in the face of Yanli’s concern for their health and wellbeing, so Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing allowed themselves to be ushered to bed while Jin Zixuan and Yanli took the leftover food and wine back to the other room they’d reserved. Maybe Yanli was right and he did need to sleep, at least for a little while, because he was asleep almost as soon as he laid down.
Later that night, though, when the inn was dark and the rest of the patrons had retired to their beds, Jiang Cheng woke up, gave Wen Qing a kiss on the forehead, and crept out into the hallway. There was no light coming from Yanli and Jin Zixuan’s room, but he could hear the sounds of their low conversation as he knocked softly on the door. Yanli was the one who opened it, and all she said was, “Is Wen Qing awake too, then?”
“Unless she’s fallen back asleep in the time it took me to walk over here,” Jiang Cheng said.
“Well, then,” said Yanli, already halfway out the door in a swirl of sleeves, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Jin Zixuan rose from his seat and crossed the room to pull Jiang Cheng inside by his collar and slid the door closed before Jiang Cheng wrapped his arms around him and kissed him slowly and deeply, like they had all the time in the world.